#black paraphernalia

[black-paraphernalia]

         FOR JAMES MARION A RACIST BUTCHER

The ‘Father of Modern Gynecology’ Performed Shocking Experiments on Enslaved Women. His use of Black bodies as medical test subjects falls into a history that includes the Tuskegee syphilis experiment and Henrietta Lacks. by Brynn Holland

This post is a summary excerpts from History.com - click above title for the article in its entirety 

Few medical doctors have been as lauded—and loathed—as James Marion Sims. Credited as the “father of modern gynecology,” Sims developed pioneering tools and surgical techniques related to women’s reproductive health. But because Sims’ research was conducted on enslaved Black women without anesthesia, medical ethicists, historians and others say his use of enslaved Black bodies as medical test subjects falls into a long, ethically bereft history that includes the Tuskegee syphilis experiment and Henrietta Lacks.

Critics say Sims cared more about the experiments than in providing therapeutic treatment, and that he caused untold suffering by operating under the racist notion that Black people did not feel pain.Sims, who practiced medicine at a time when treating women was considered distasteful and rarely done, invented the vaginal speculum, a tool used for dilation and examination. He also pioneered a surgical technique to repair vesicovaginal fistula, a common 19th-century complication of childbirth in which a tear between the uterus and bladder caused constant pain and urine leakage.

Today, we know three of the names of the female fistula patients from Sims’s owns records—Lucy, Anarcha, and Betsey. The first one he operated on was 18-year-old Lucy, who had given birth a few months prior and hadn’t been able to control her bladder since. During the procedure, patients were completely naked and asked to perch on their knees and bend forward onto their elbows so their heads rested on their hands. 

Lucy endured an hour-long surgery, screaming and crying out in pain, as nearly a dozen other doctors watched. As Sims later wrote, “Lucy’s agony was extreme.” She became extremely ill due to his controversial use of a sponge to drain the urine away from the bladder, which led her to contract blood poisoning. “I thought she was going to die… It took Lucy two or three months to recover entirely from the effects of the operation,” he wrote.

For a long time, Sims’ fistula surgeries were not successful. After 30 operations on one woman, a 17-year-old enslaved woman named Anarcha who had had a very traumatic labor and delivery, he finally “perfected” his method—after four years of experimentation. Afterward, he began to practice on white women, using anesthesia, which was new to the medical field at the time.

While some doctors didn’t trust anesthesia, Sims’ decision to not use it—or any other numbing technique—was based on his misguided belief that Black people didn’t experience pain like white people did. It’s a notion that persists today, according to a study conducted at the University of Virginia, and published in the April 4, 2016 Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences.

Experimenting on Enslaved Children

Writer and medical ethicist Harriet Washington says Sims’s racist beliefs affected more than his gynecological experiments. Before and after his gynecological experiments, he also tested surgical treatments on enslaved Black children in an effort to treat “trismus nascentium” (neonatal tetanus)—with little to no success.

Sims also believed that African Americans were less intelligent than white people, and thought it was because their skulls grew too quickly around their brain. He would operate on African American children using a shoemaker’s tool to pry their bones apart and loosen their skulls.

In the 1850s, Sims moved to New York and opened the first-ever Woman’s Hospital, where he continued testing controversial medical treatments on his patients. When any of Sims’s patients died, the blame, according to him, lay squarely with “the sloth and ignorance of their mothers and the Black midwives who attended them.” He did not believe anything was wrong with his methods.

Sims’ practices ignited controversy during his lifetime, says Washington. The medical community debated his methods, and some of his white colleagues even openly objected to his experiments, saying he took things too far.

After several years of activism, the Philadelphia statue was moved into storage and the statue in Central Park was removed on April 17, 2018. Its plaque was to be replaced by one that educates the public on the origins of the monument and the controversial, non-consensual medical experiments Sims used on women of color. The names (and histories) of the three known women “whose bodies were used in the name of medical and scientific advancement” by Sims, Lucy, Anarcha and Betsey, were to be recognized on the new plaque.

It's a recognition some see as overdue. In a 1941 paper titled “The Negro’s Contribution to Surgery,” published in the Journal of the National Medical Association, Dr. John A. Kenney of the Tuskegee Institute, considered the dean of Black dermatology, wrote, “I suggest that a monument be raised and dedicated to the nameless Negroes who have contributed so much to surgery by the ‘guinea pig’ route.”

Lucy

Anarcha

Betsey

BLACK PARAPHERNALIA DISCLAIMER -PLEASE READ

[internatlvelvet]

Susan Bottomly and Andy Warhol, fall 1966. Paraphernalia.

[corroded-hellfire]

I am humbly requesting Eddie wearing a shirt that says “nerds make the best lovers” and then proving it to bookworm!Reader.

Your request is my command. I hope I have done your idea justice!

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral f!receiving, slight choking, soft dom!eddie, public sex (kinda?)

Words: 2.2k

Eddie struts into your first period English class with Ms. O’Donell, late as usual, and she doesn’t even glance away from the chalkboard she’s scribbling vocabulary words on to acknowledge his tardiness. On instinct, you smile at your boyfriend as he makes his way to his seat near you, but as your eyes scan over his shirt, heat blooms in your cheeks.

“Nerds Make the Best Lovers” his t-shirt claims in bold, gothic-style red lettering on the black tee. Eddie gives you a brazen wink and by the sound of all the snickering coming from students around you, you know other people have read the clothing’s pronouncement as well. Mortified, you bury your face in your hands, only peeking out to see if O’Donnell caught a glimpse of her least favorite student’s shirt. Luckily, O’Donnell gave up reading whatever shit his t-shirts said after her twentieth time or so sending Eddie to the front office for dress code violations. 

Eddie plops down in the seat next to yours and he shoots you another wink as if you hadn’t seen the first one he gave you when he walked in. Refusing to encourage any of this behavior, you don’t look your boyfriend’s way once the entirety of the class.

Once the period ends, however, Eddie won’t let you get away from him that easily. He jogs down the hallway to catch up with you and drapes a heavy arm over your shoulders.

“Where’s the fire, baby?” he asks. “Where ya headed in such a hurry?”

You shake your head in non-response and keep walking down the hallway, not sparing him a glance. Eventually, you come to a section of hallway that’s mostly emptied of people and you turn to face him, your shoes squeaking against the white linoleum floor beneath you at the tenacity of your spin.

“What is with that shirt, Eddie? Are you trying to embarrass me?”

“Embarrass you?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows. “Baby, I’m just stating a fact. Nerds do make the best lovers. And I’m more than happy to give you a reminder…”

He trails a finger up your arm, and it sends a thrilling shiver down your spine. Any irritation or annoyance instantly melts away at his touch. Your resistance was already futile but Eddie putting his hands on you always seems to shut off any coherent part of your brain.

“A reminder, huh?” you coo, ensnared by his flirtations. 

“That’s right. I’ll show just how good this nerd can make you feel.” 

You decide to hell with it; there’s nothing particularly important going on today. Nothing that you couldn’t afford to miss, anyway. And even if there was? Eddie’s body pressed up against yours is worth a detention or a missed test.

“Should we head out to your van for this demonstration?” you ask. The number of times his old, beat down van has been out in the school parking lot, rocking back and forth from the two of you, is too high to count. Most of the times being while school is still in session.

“No, I’ve got somewhere better in mind.” Eddie tugs you by the wrist, leading you down the hall in the opposite direction. He comes to a halt in front of a familiar door and pulls you into the drama room. It’s abandoned and quiet as Eddie locks the door behind you. There’s some D&D paraphernalia scattered around the room, a few D20s that were left out on the table.

“Hmm, so the ultimate symbolism of your nerdiness, huh?” You tease as you sit yourself down on his throne at the head of the table. The seat is cold beneath you, but you refuse to let it show. 

Eddie stalks over to stand before you and rests a hand on either arm rest of the throne. He lowers his head to meet your gaze with his own challenging one.

“I suppose you think I’m going to kick you out,” he says, referring to the seat. “Not today, my lady. Today…” he lowers himself down to his knees. “Today you just sit back and enjoy my throne while I make you feel good.”

He makes quick work of yanking your jeans and panties off and tosses them somewhere behind him. A strong hand grips each of your calves and spreads your legs wide open, Eddie wasting no time before he’s licking a stripe up your folds.

“Oh, fuck,” you whine, fingers digging into the sturdy arm rests at your sides. 

Eddie smirks against your pussy as he begins to flick his tongue against your clit. He knows every one of your little tells and knows just the right speeds and pressures to apply to your bundle of nerves to get you just where he wants you to go.

Your fingers scramble to find purchase on the chair as pleasure floods your body, so Eddie laces one of his hands with yours to ground you. His mouth keeps working against your pussy and you do your best not to grind your hips up to meet his tongue. It’s so tempting but you know it will only draw out Eddie’s teasing in the long run. 

With his free hand, Eddie delicately trails one ringed finger around your entrance, going round and round, never breaching it though. The delicious whines spilling from your lips only encourage him on.

“Shit, you taste so good, baby. God, I love your pussy,” he murmurs from between your legs.

“Eddie,” you whimper desperately, eager for him to use his fingers already. Being a nerd might not necessarily make him the best lover, but being a guitar player does make for a magical experience when he fingers you.

“Mm?” he hums against your core.

“N-Need your f-fing—holy shit, yes.”

Eddie knew what you needed before you even said it. The two of you work so well together, both mind and body, that you’re like separate pieces of the same machine, headed towards the same goal.

Two thick fingers stretch you out, at your request, as Eddie raises his head slightly to suck on your clit. He curls his fingers up and gently brushes over the spot that he knows makes you see stars. Your own fingers tighten on the arms of the throne and your legs tense around Eddie’s head.

“Shit! Fuck, fuck, I’m coming!”

Eddie smirks against your clit as he helps you ride it out, with both his fingers and mouth. He loves watching you as you come down from your high; all out of breath and dewy from a thin layer of sweat. 

The loss of his fingers as he slips them out of you is quickly made okay as you watch him pop them in his mouth as you try and catch your breath. His cocky facial expressions would annoy you if you weren’t feeling so amazing from his damn mouth.

Once he’s licked you from his fingers, he reaches down and fumbles with the handcuff buckle on his belt.

“Made you feel so good and didn’t even take my cock out yet.”

“Wipe that…smirk off your face.” You try to sound assertive, but it falls flat in your blissed out state.

Eddie chuckles and leans in, wrapping one hand around your throat; not tight enough to restrict air, just enough for you to feel the pressure.

“I don’t think you’re in a position to be making demands here, sweetheart,” he whispers in your ear. “Pretty sure you’d let me do whatever the hell I want to you right now, won’t you?” Both of you know the answer to that, but when you don’t give a verbal response, Eddie tightens his grip on your throat just slightly. “I said, won’t you?” he growls.

“Y-Yes,” you squeak out.

The sound pleases Eddie, and he smiles deviously as he releases your throat. He presses a sweet kiss to your cheek that’s a stark contrast to how he was just handling you.

“That’s what I thought,” he says, smugness clear in his tone.

He grabs your hands and yanks you up out of the throne. An involuntary yelp passes through your lips as he spins the two of you around and backs you up until your bare thighs bump into the table.

“Shirt off. Bra too,” Eddie orders.

You do as he says, Eddie’s eyes taking you in like the prey that you are to him with every move that you make.

Once you’re completely naked, Eddie presses his index finger right in the middle of your chest and gives just enough force for you to get the hint that he wants you to lie back.

The moment you get your ass on the table, large strong hands grab behind your knees and pull you towards the edge, so your back falls flat against the surface and your legs are able to wrap around your boyfriend’s lithe body. He pushes down his black jeans and boxers enough to line himself up with your entrance. But he doesn’t push in just yet.

“Say my fucking name, sweetheart,” he says as he leans over you.

“E-Eddie.”

“Louder. I want anyone walking by to know who’s in here making you feel so good.”

“Eddie!”

The man’s grip tightens on your legs and his cock just barely slips into you.

“I said louder. Are you going to be a good girl and listen to me or what?”

“Fuck, Eddie!”

He smirks in triumph at the way you scream his name.

“That’s my girl.”

He finally pushes inside of you, agonizingly slowly, his body towering over yours as he thrusts. Each time, he goes a little deeper, his eyes boring right into yours as he moves his hips. 

Your jaw drops open and small gasps escape your lips. You’re not sure what’s hotter: how Eddie’s pounding into you or how he’s staring into your eyes, not once breaking contact. 

Eddie groans as he finally bottoms out.

“Jesus Christ,” he swears. “Your pussy’s so fucking tight.”

No words whatsoever fill your mind as you lose yourself in the feeling of Eddie inside your walls. Your boyfriend notices this as well and another arrogant smirk grows on his lips while he stares down at you.

“Aw, already cock drunk, princess? Not a thought in that pretty little head of yours?”

You want so badly to refute it, but you don’t have the words to do so–only further proving his point.

The cool table feels nice against your back as your skin becomes sticky with sweat. Your hands slide from Eddie’s arms and your fingers grip the edge of the table.

Eddie notices the movement and doesn’t want you holding on to anything that isn’t him, though. His hands slide up your body and he grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head.

“Eddie,” you whine.

“Oh, she can speak,” Eddie coos.

“Eddie.”

“What is it, my love?”

“C-Close.”

Eddie holds both of your wrists in one hand while the other one snakes down and presses his thumb against your clit.

“Come on, baby,” Eddie goads. “Be my good girl and cum for me.”

“W-Want you to…with me,” you pant out between labored breaths. 

“Don’t worry,” Eddie says with a wry chuckle. “I’m right there with you.”

Eddie might be a complete menace sometimes, knowing exactly how to drive you crazy, but you know him just as well and know how to bring him to the brink. 

“I-Inside,” you pant. “Need you to cum inside me.”

“Jesus,” Eddie groans, squeezing his eyes closed and clenching his teeth as he tries to hold back.

“Please,” you beg.

“Well,” Eddie huffs with a laugh, “since you asked so nicely. Come on, princess. Let go.”

The twitch of Eddie inside of you and the feeling of him filling you up has you arching your back as sparks fly behind your eyelids and ecstasy radiates up your body.

“Eddie, yes.”

“Louder,” Eddie manages as he fucks his load into you.

“Eddie!”

The blissed out feeling from his orgasm and your shouting of his name puts a big, dopey grin on Eddie’s face.

“Shit, princess,” he says with a chuckle as he buries his head in your neck. You giggle as he presses kisses and nips at the skin there.

Eddie doesn’t make a move to get off of you, which you don’t mind one bit. You tangle your fingers in his frizzy locks and press kisses to the side of his head.

“So?” he eventually mumbles against your skin.

“So what?”

Eddie picks his head up and looks at you.

“Do nerds make the best lovers or what?” he asks, eyebrows waggling.

You can’t help but laugh as you nod your head in affirmation.

“Yes, Eddie. You have proven it to me.”

“Mmm, good,” he hums before he goes back to kissing your neck.

“What’re you doing?” you ask as the kisses become more and more intense.

He pulls back to look at you again.

“You really think the best lover is only going for one round?” He scoffs and goes back to kissing your neck.

“Thank God for nerds,” you mumble as your eyes slip closed.

[yumeka-sxf]

One thing I love about the SxF manga volumes is how the inside covers have extra illustrations that reveal a "hidden" side of the characters. My favorite so far is from volume 10, which shows young Twilight surrounded by war paraphernalia. But on the inside cover, he's instead surrounded by fun & family ❤

In addition, the inside covers are also full of humor and 4th-wall breaking jokes. In this case for volume 10, the back inner cover shows Franky complaining that he wasn't featured with everyone else, despite being Twilight's friend and being "cute" as a child 😆 Sylvia and Henderson concur with their own childhood photos, lol.

Volume 5 and 6 feature Yuri and Nightfall, again, with the inner covers showing their "real" thoughts. For Yuri, torturing Loid into signing a divorce certificate, and for Nightfall, getting a marriage certificate from him!

The back inner covers of these volumes even feature their unhinged dialogue! On the left is Yuri's endless thoughts about Yor, and on the right is a big "す"/"su," which is basically the "lo" in "love" that Nightfall always has for Twilight!

Volume 7 features Damian, with the inner cover showing Anya doing a hilarious impression of him!

Lots of 4th-wall breaking with volume 9! Becky is featured, and on the inner cover, Martha is chiding her for not wearing her school uniform, since Anya and Damian both wore theirs on their featured covers. Becky replies that she doesn't want to wear black after finally getting to be in color! 😂

The back inner cover is even funnier! It shows the staff list that's usually featured at the end of each volume, but it's not typically on the back cover. So Becky is mad about it being there, saying that the space should be used to feature more things about her, and who the heck are these Kimura and Rin people!? 🤣 (two of the staff members). Franky replies that unfortunately the pages were condensed this time, but she should be grateful to those people, since she wouldn't be in the book if it wasn't for them!

Even the inner cover of the manga fanbook has the same 4th-wall breaking humor! Yor asks why they're doing "air chairs" instead of having real chairs, and Loid replies that there was no budget for the usual designer chairs (he also asks if Anya got a new power since she's floating! 😅)

To conclude, Endo's wonderful sense of humor is showcased even outside the story itself! I look forward to seeing what characters and jokes are featured in upcoming manga volumes 😁

[spookykoolkat]

kinktober | the man in apartment 6a - j.m.

kinktober day three - dumbification

pairing: older!joel miller x younger!plus size!reader

wc: 9.0k

summary: your older, grumpier yet handy neighbor can hear everything that goes on in the comfort of your pink four walled bedroom, simply because shitty apartment buildings made the walls so thin.

warnings: 18+ ONLY! minors are NEVER welcomed. pervy!joel, creepy!joel, older!joel, JOEL IS WARNING IN HIMSELF LOL, mentions of self loathing, uncomfortable sex (not with joel), marijuana use, alcohol use, fingering, oral (f receiving), manhandling, degradation (slight), creampie/breeding, pet names (sweet girl, sweetheart, pretty girl, baby, dumb, stupid, daddy), a little bit of ass eating (whoops), raw penetration (p in v) *wrap it up pls*, aftercare

reblogs, likes and comments are very very appreciated!

⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧ °｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧

IT WAS A FRIDAY NIGHT, work was tired, and you needed to take the edge off with a fat blunt and a full glass of wine. it was so quiet in the apartment complex you lived in that you might be the loudest one there, since three of your neighbors are older than 50. 

so after you poured your bottle of wine into a glass, you turned your led lights under your coffee table on and the bulbs that are in your two lamps beside your couch. it was such a colorful scenery, you loved smoking and drinking like this with music or a movie on in the background. making sure to not turn the volume up too loud, or else joel would come knocking on your door asking you to turn it down. 

joel was your neighbor in 6a and to you he always seemed like he had a thorn stuck in his ass cheek. he was a bitter old man who seemed like he hated fun, or maybe he just hated you. 

but you didn’t care much. nothing was going to stop you from being you, being bubbly and optimistic. it makes no sense to you to sit solemnly and think about every wrong turn you’ve ever made, and yet it seems that’s all joel does. 

he was always on edge, noticing the way he would flinch meeting you as the two of you locked your doors and headed off to work. you watched him from your window when he walked into the complex up the stairs, and noticed how he always had his jaw and fists clenched, head whipping in every direction before seemingly slipping inside his apartment and locking up. 

it made you curious as to what made him so tense, so frustrated and even paranoid. you wished you were someone he could go to, to release all of his ugly emotions and thoughts onto you. maybe you were being young and naive, having irrational sex daydreams as you gathered your paraphernalia to roll a blunt. It was delusional, yes you knew that, but you couldn’t help but fantasize about your neighbor.

but you wanted him in every way. you didn’t care he was twice your age, and you didn’t care that he was about as introverted and mean as they come. he’s a real asshole. to you, you felt you were allowed these fantasies given he’d never be the type of man that would want you. i mean, you were young enough to be his daughter, and you weren’t so sure that he even liked bigger women.

shaking your thoughts of him, you hummed along to whatever song that was on your halloween playlist playing loudly. soon after it’s rolled, you spark it up and take hits of it as you throw your body back on the couch.

you feel at ease as you listen to your playlist and smoke your blunt, enjoying peace for a day. your hair was still wet from the shower you took, and your blunt was barely starting to form a good cherry when three bangs hit your door over the music that startled you. 

you take a few more hits trying to get the most out of your blunt and ash it out quickly, yelling a choked out, i’m coming!!, over the music. you get up with your wine glass, walking barefoot to the door and opening it as your eyes meet a broad chest in a button up black and gray flannel, buttoned over a plain white t-shirt. 

joel.

“uh, hey. what’s up?” you say, setting your glass down on your door side table. 

“you told me your toilet wasn’t workin’? didya need me to take a look?” he asked as he unsubtly soaked in your attire. shit. you completely forgot your piece of shit toilet stopped flushing. 

you noticeably had no bra on, and your tank top was resting at the curve of your waist with one strap off of your shoulder, showing off your plush body and midriff. he could almost see the hardening of your nipples when you opened the door. 

“oh, right. i thought you meant you could do it like, monday.” you said, wishing to just relax tonight. he shook his head and looked back over your body, before meeting your eyes. 

“i’m busy monday. it’s now or never,” he bargained with a hard tone and you rolled your eyes.

“of course, right, sorry. come in.” you said and moved out of the way to step inside your girly apartment. you went to your coffee table to grab the remote and turn the volume down a little on your tv. 

“the restroom is-,” you start to say and go towards it until he cuts you off. 

“i know where it is. i’ll be done in a bit,” he said coldly and you pressed your lips into a thin line. he renovated these apartments dumbass. 

“alright.” you said and let him go to the back hall to find the restroom, and you released a breath. 

you felt like you looked messy, you just got out of the shower and had no bra on, and didn’t have panties on either. you were embarrassed. 

it was a free night for you and he had to barge in. of course. you decided to grab your wine and sit down on the couch, eyeing the blunt wishing you could be smoking it right now. instead you sip on your wine and scroll on your phone for maybe thirty minutes until he calls out for you. 

“coming!” you replied a little too cheery, and walked to the back rooms to see him on his hands and knees trying to reach under the toilet with his tools sprawled out on your pink bath rug. 

joel tried to hide the smile that grew when he heard your eager voice.

“yeah?” you asked and blushed at his image. he looked so sexy with his eyebrows furrowed, even sexier looking so manly in such a pink room. His dark colored clothes made an exciting difference in your bathroom. 

joel quickly scaled you over, from your bare feet with black toenails up to your week old shaven legs, up your wide thighs, to the fat of your tummy and the curves of your breasts. 

“you think i can have me a water bottle?” he asked, and you smiled, completely unaware he was thinking of bending you over the sink and making you watch yourself take all of him.

joel had a teensy crush on you the second he saw you at his doorstep. 

you mustered up the strength to knock on two doors to be greeted by two elderly ladies, and introduce yourself as their neighbors while giving them cookies you baked for them. 

you figured it was the best way to gain their trust and familiarity as you were going to be living here for a while. and while it worked on them, you weren’t so sure about your last neighbor. you were nervous. you hated socializing and to introduce yourself as the new person in the area, but the last door you knocked on was one that truly ruined your day. 

the door swung open ferociously to present a tall broad figure with tan skin, eyes tired and hair all ruffled. you could tell he just woke up, and you instantly regretted it. the force of the door opening made you feel a gust of wind, and chills. 

you were taught it was common courtesy to introduce yourself when you’re new somewhere, though it didn’t seem he was happy to see you at his doorstep all cheery and energized.

“uh, hi, i’m your neighbor in 6C, i just moved in and i just wanted to introduce myself,” you said and told him your name, with a small smile. he kind of just looked at you blankly, adjusting his eyes to your figure and face. 

“i, uh i made cookies for everyone so, i thought i’d bring them by cus i just like to bake and i thought maybe it’d be a peace offering... it’s okay if not i just wanted to be nice,” you rambled looking into his brown eyes as you held the plate covered in foil out with your hands. he looked between the plate, you and next to him to look at the clock on his doorway table.  

you were nervous, tapping your fingers on the plate and biting the inside of your cheek. he was so handsome. so manly. 

“you’re knockin at my door at eight thirty in the morning ona saturday to give me some cookies?” he asked, making sure what was happening was real. it was a little comical to him, only seeing shit like this in the movies. but to him, you were cute. he knew he didn’t carry southern hospitality and kindness like most, like you.

“you don’t have to take them. just tryna be nice,” you mumbled and pulled your arms back, your texan accent almost as thick as his. 

“Mmhmm, well i don’t need no cookies this mornin’,” he said surely. it kind of pissed you off honestly. 

“forget about it,” you said and turned your head down, moving to the door next to his and opening it right before mumbling, “asshole,” and slamming your door shut.

you were just so cute, so lively that he was drawn to you. it was odd because joel’s taste in women usually ranged, but he’d never been so drawn to a woman who seemed so eager to take on the world everyday. joel wasn’t used to seeing people so happy to leave the comfort of their homes to go into the city and interact with people, he wasn’t used to people making small talk as you fetch the mail at the same time. but that was you. 

he would just shake you off, mumble words to get you to stop being so cheerful and kind. he didn’t want you to waste your time on him, he didn’t deserve your kindness. you heard the small comments. 

“so damn pink,” 

“ya have to hum all the way down four flights of stairs?”

“you ever not dressed in glitter and ponies?” 

which he over exaggerated, you just liked pink. you would ignore the mean comments, and you would force yourself to remember that he is a man of cutting down trees and building houses with his bare hands. whatever you think is manly, he is. he wore nothing but dark colors, denim, work boots, and still had the iphone eight which seemed like it was forced on him. 

but this is the first time he spoke to you remotely nice, and asked you for anything. 

“yeah, uh do you want like, ice or just room temp?” you asked a bit embarrassed, wondering if that was a dumb question to ask. and a small, very small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth but it was so slight you almost gaslit yourself into seeing it. 

“don’t matter sweetheart, whatever ya wanna get me,” he said and went back to doing whatever it was he was doing. 

your tummy just fluttered at the small pet name as you pushed yourself off the door frame and moved to the kitchen.

never did you ever think you would hear a word like that come out of his mouth when referring to you.

you grabbed a water bottle and grabbed some ice chips with a scoop to pour it into a tall thermos. you took it straight to joel, and he faced you as you leaned down a bit to hand him the cup. from your stance, he could practically see down your shirt but only stole a small glance. 

you couldn’t notice, you were just excited to do something nice for him. 

“you need anything else?” you asked with your hands behind your back, your chest poking out a bit more and the light made it easy to see your nipples against the cloth. 

“nah, i got all i need, you can go relax.” he said and went back to work as you walked off. 

you wondered if there was a softness to his voice as you sat back down on the couch, turning your music up a little bit but not loud enough to get bitched at by joel. you figured he’d might be here for a bit given his outbursts of cursing because something wasn’t working with him, so you grabbed your blunt and lit it again. this was your apartment. 

joel was frustrated enough from the stupid toilet. a bolt kept untightening every time he tried to flush, and it pissed him off enough but kept him busy as he smelled the scent of strong weed filling his nose. he knew he smelled it when he walked in, but now he can smell the smoke and hear your muffled coughs every once and a while.

he was actually a bit surprised, for some reason you didn’t seem like the type to partake. he knows in his days he did, so he wasn’t judging you at all, it just didn’t seem like something a girl like you would do. you seemed so… behaved.

he ended up managing to find the bolt he was looking for because it fell somewhere and skidded across the restroom floor. 

joel didn’t mind working on things for the neighbors in his complex, he was really the only one that was able to fix almost everything in sight. he was never bothered by it either, in the back of his mind he wanted to feel like he was needed. like he could do some type of good for people even if he was closed off and cold. his hands were godsend, and in many ways. 

but he’d always see things maybe the resident wouldn’t want him to see, like a box of condoms or a sex toy. it didn’t bother him, he’d just ignore it.

but here he was, still and frozen as he finally found the bolt laying on a pair of red panties that were laid on your floor like you just had these on. and you did. 

you managed to get all of your clothes in the hamper except the pair of panties you had on, you actually thought maybe it was in the tangles of your clothes. but no. there they were, and he was on his way to losing his mind. he couldn’t move, he just stared at the red high cut panties that even had a black bow on the trim. 

he couldn’t stop himself. before he knew it, he grabbed your underwear and almost inspected them quickly before taking them, pushing the fabric into his nose and breathing in your musk, and folding them to put in his back pocket. he felt drunk on you already. he knew it was wrong, he knew he was probably a sick man. but he needed something from you, anything. 

the opportunity showed itself, he just took it. 

now, he still smelled you lingering on his nose, and imagined what your pussy looked like puffy and red for him. he wanted to fill you up completely and fuck you until you were sore and throbbing, he wanted to see those cute little glossy lips of yours kissing the tip of his cock and taking it in your throat like a fleshlight. 

you were just perfect. so much for him to grab, kiss, and mark. he wanted your eyes to watch him devour you whole, and he craved to watch you break for him.

he knew he was a creep. he didn’t care. joel never acted on his desires and his pervy ways, until now, when really he wanted to do it all. whenever you came out to the mailboxes the same time as he did, he wanted to get his phone and sneak pictures of you, under your skirts more specifically. 

he was thinking of if you’ve ever fucked yourself here in this very restroom he’s crouched in, thinking of the way your leg would lift to rest on some vantage point, fingering your hole until you fought to stand upright again. he imagined you walking in a little white towel back to your room, drying off and getting dressed in front of him. his cock was throbbing at the image, pairing it with the image of the red panties he stole. 

he couldn’t work like this, not thinking of all of the ways he wanted to make you whine, make you squirm, make you cum. 

he finally managed to fix the problem after 30 minutes and flushing once to test, smiling at his success. it was always satisfying seeing something broken be fixed, he was a problem solver, he loved the challenge. he cleaned up his area and picked up his tools, putting them in the bag and fixing himself before he washed his hands and wiped them down with a towel, leaving the restroom to see you puffing a small roach of your blunt. 

“y’know you shouldn’t be smokin in here,” he said and you jumped a bit, exhaling the last bit of smoke and ashing it out in your ashtray. you just looked at him with a small smile, but realizing this is your apartment. he can’t tell you what to do. 

“oh, well i mean, i thought… i mean it’s my apartment, so,” you said as you blushed, feeling like you’re in trouble now. 

“don’t worry yourself, darlin’. i ain’t gonna tell on you,” he suggested and you blushed, somehow even more. 

“would you want like, a drink? the least i can do,” you said as you grabbed a dos equis from your fridge and walked up to him, handing it to him. he was hesitant at first, really in deep thought about whether he should accept this or not. was it opening a door? he hoped so. 

“thanks,” he said and took it from you, not looking at the green bottle at all. he put his tools down on the small table you had in your kitchen and followed you to sit on the loveseat on the right side of the living room. 

“it’s joel by the way, no one calls me mr. miller,” he said as he took a swig. you nodded and responded ohh, moving to drink more of your wine. you ended up changing your music to a horror movie and kept your eyes trained on that instead of his eyes. you felt him watching you, every breath you took, every blink, every lip bite. 

“so who lived here before me?” you asked to break the silence, looking to him from the movie. his eyes were already on you, you just met them. you figured you’d make some sort of conversation if he was going to sit there and drink a beer. who drinks together silently? 

“nother’ older lady, she was a good neighbor,” he trailed and drank from his beer. you quirked your eyebrows, drinking from the wine glass and keeping it by your side. 

“am i not a good neighbor?” you asked sweetly, genuinely curious. he refrained himself from getting up from his seat and showing how good of a neighbor you really were to him. 

“you are, just a little loud from time to time.” he admitted, more so talking about your unsatisfying experiences with the men you bring him. 

“am i? i’m sorry, i’ll try to keep it down,” you said softly, almost embarrassed and you looked at your fingers tapping on the rim of the wine glass. 

“s’alright, it ain’t too distracting.” he lied. of course it was distracting. he was begging to know what you sounded like when you were really enjoying yourself, how you looked under him and on top of him. how he imagined you in his room instead. 

“still, i don’t wanna be that neighbor that’s annoying,” you said and looked back up at him to where he’s sitting. “i feel like you hate me.” you finished. 

he doesn't blame you. he doesn't make it easy for people to know him, or make a nice impression firsthand. he kind of feels bad for making you feel like that. but he was just not that friendly honestly, not that nice and not that comforting. at least he felt he was. he didn’t know how to be. 

“it’s nothin’ personal,” he said and drank from his bottle again, letting his eyes trail over your body. you felt it, hell you saw it, and you still squirmed. 

“i prefer to be by myself.” he said and you nodded, but he was still watching you. 

“i see. i understand now, sorry for imposing most of the time.” you say with an apologetic smile, and he kind of smiled. it shocked you really to see any emotion other than anger and discomfort displayed on his face.

“you don’t bother me, not one bit.” he said to reassure you, but he wanted you to know you did far more than “bothering” him. you just smiled, blushing a bit at his confession.

“so is it just you living here?” you asked and saw his face look a little pained, and again you regret opening your mouth. 

“uh, no actually. i have a sixteen year old i sort of adopted. just me and my daughter.” he said and you were a little shocked. how did you never manage to see her? or hear her?

“she goes on her own a lot, friends places, parties. i know she can handle herself so, she has my number if anything happens.” he answered your internal questions. 

“that’s really sweet. i wished my parents did that. i kind of had to move away from them’ after i graduated. m’ not really on speaking’ terms with any of my family.” you admitted a little sadly, even though he didn’t ask.  you seemed as though you could talk for hours if no one shut you up. 

“i’m sorry to hear that,darlin’,” he said and continued to drink his beer until he finished it. 

“it’s fine, i’m a lot happier now than i was before.” you said with a small smile, and drank from your wine glass. joel was glad you took the attention off of him and his daughter, not asking any questions about his situation. he appreciated it. 

he just nodded, finishing his beer as you finished your wine and suddenly you were nervous. again. it was just you and him, in this colorfully lit room. you looked at him as he got up, and walked to the kitchen to grab his tools. no no wait wait you can’t leave, not yet. 

“thank ya for the hospitality, i should go,” he said coldly and you almost scrambled to your feet to step in front of him. 

“um, wait uh,” you tried to think of an excuse. anything. something to keep him here a little longer. he looked down at you, how flustered you were, how you looked like you were trying to come up with an excuse. you really even didn’t think it through, you were just acting on the pulsing in your shorts.

but suddenly, you got a bit insecure. you didn’t know joel’s type, and you wondered what the outcome would be of throwing yourself at him. 

“yeah?” he asked and tilted his head, curious as to what you had to say. truth is, he didn’t wanna leave either. how could he wanna leave when you looked so desirable right now? he couldn’t even feel bad that he was practically 20 years older than you, he wanted to ruin you. 

“um, nothing, m’ sorry.” you said. you admitted defeat. there was nothing you could’ve said or done to make him stay, at least that's what you thought. 

“have a good night,” you said and he repeated it to you. you walked him out, shutting the door behind him. 

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joel was still awake after his shower. not by choice. he was laying in his bed, checking the time on his clock that flashes at 2:30am, and back at the wall that connects the two of you. were you seriously this unaware at how loud you were? 

he was thanking god that ellie wasn’t home, so she wouldn’t be hearing any of this either. but he was also wondering if you were even enjoying yourself in the first place. 

after joel left, you felt this aching feeling that you couldn’t satisfy yourself so you just called a friend over. one that you really don’t know, and you don’t care about, but one that wanted to have sex with you just as bad as you wanted to have sex with joel. 

one thing led to another and there you are once again, laying in bed as this guy poorly ate you out and uncomfortably fingered you. it just didn’t feel right, and at this point you were hoping he was done. your fake moans rang through the apartment again, wondering if you were over or under selling it. to the lanky guy between your legs, you were selling it just fine. 

you even tried thinking of joel being the one sliding into you as this guy did, but you doubted he'd be this painfully terrible at sex. it didn’t feel enjoyable, it just felt like blindly jabbing at your cervix. not even 10 minutes later, that man is out your door and you're back in bed, feeling miserable with yourself. 

you wanted for once to have a good sexual encounter, constantly feeling ugly and used. these men didn’t even care about you and didn’t care if you were satisfied, and you hated yourself for it. the physical intimacy you wanted seemed like it was something you wouldn’t be able to find. 

you craved a man’s touch even if you hated it or not, maybe blaming it on your daddy issues or just blaming the fact that you looked for the wrong things in the wrong thing. you wanted comfort and protection and looked for it in sex. 

you wanted joel. you wanted him since you moved in despite him being a dick. you wanted to know how it felt to be protected by him, to be held by him, to be wanted by him. and you wanted it so bad, you started crying. loudly, at that. 

in the moment, joel felt like he was imposing on your privacy. he felt bad listening to your muffled cries like this, and he wanted to do everything he could to help you. he knew so little about your family situation, but to him you had no family. he never saw you with friends, he only saw you with a new man every week. he wanted to comfort you, to show you that he and you were more alike than you thought.

he heard it stop for about twenty minutes all of the sudden, and then something bump into the wall he was staring at. then, it started again.  

you just laid there after your shower, now softly crying and sniffling as you heard a soft knocking on your front door. you got a little scared, so you wiped your tears fast and slipped on the shorts you had on to go open your door. it was dark in the main room, only a small orange lighting shining in front of your windows. you even noticed finally that it was actually pouring rain outside.

“who is it?” you said a little loudly, too nervous to peek through the hole. you fiddled with your polished black nails before the person answered. 

“it’s joel,” he said and you paused. 

“joel?” you asked. 

 you quickly unlocked your door to open it enough to peek your head out. 

“what are you doing here?” you asked, looking up at him. you scanned over his attire, now barefoot and in a simple black shirt and pajama pants. his head was whipping right and left, seeing if anyone else was in the hall to see him. 

now, he was the one that was nervous. what was he doing here? what did he think was going to happen? if he played it right, everything he ever wanted. 

“can i come in?” he asks, rubbing the back of his neck and you gulp, opening the door wider to allow his broad figure in your home. your eyes were trained down, refusing to let him look at you. 

“can i get you something? water?” you asked, still not facing him and turning a lamp on next to your couch and moving past him until he grabs your wrist firmly. you still, and you have no choice but to look at him with your bloodshot eyes. 

“i can hear, y’know,” he said, paying attention to your tear stained face as you slowly looked up to him. 

“hear? hear what?” you said unknowingly. 

“everything. i can hear the guys you bring home, i can hear you moanin’, i can hear you cryin’,” he said, pulling you closer to him. by now you were almost to his chest as he grabbed your other wrist and held you tight. 

“i-,” you began but you felt humiliated. you didn’t realize he could really hear everything, that he heard everything that transpired in your room tonight. 

“did he make you cry?” he asked grimly, his eyes dark and his stare serious.

he wasn’t squeezing hard enough to hurt you, your breath just caught in your throat because you were nervous. nervous to admit to anything. 

“no, he didn’t, he didn’t do anything to me,” you said and looked down at his hands gripping your flesh. 

“it doesn’t matter. i’m just really sorry, i didn’t know that’s what you meant earlier. i’m sorry it won’t happen again.” you apologized with tears in your eyes. the guy who you fucked wasn’t even worth all of this embarrassment that flooded you. 

“then why’re you cryin, sweet girl?” he asked, moving his hand to your chin so you can look up at him. 

“i, it’s nothing, i’m sorry for waking you up,” you said and blinked your tears away, your hands falling to your side when he released you. you just stood there though, his hand on your cheek while his thumb rubbed circles into your face. 

“it ain’t nothin. he wasn’t makin’ you feel good? made you feel bad?” his southern accent was thick in this tone, but for some reason you felt at ease. better now that he was here. 

“he made me feel bad,” you were too nervous to lie, he already heard you through the wall. 

“i know, baby, i know,” he said. you really couldn’t move, the words coming from his mouth were insane to you. you couldn’t fathom the fact that he was talking like this, to you. his hands slid to grip your hips, to feel the way they curve into your waist, resting at the small of your back so that now you’re pressed against his body. 

“i never hated ya,” he said, his face getting closer to yours to where you could feel his breath on your lips. while your breathing was faltered and shaky, his was calm and collected. he wasn’t nervous anymore, he was determined. 

“actually, i think i like you more than i’d like t’ admit,” he whispered, moving his lips to your ear and your neck. 

“what are you talkin’ about?” you breathed. your arms just went slack, you didn’t know what to do with them, if you should finally touch him and feel his hard chest, feel his body the way he feels yours, or if you just want to accept that this is a dream. 

you finally move your hands to his waist and grip tightly onto his shirt, almost like if you let go you’ll fall. 

“i know you feel the same, darlin’. i can hear you, remember? i can hear you callin’ for me, moanin’ for me when you touch yourself.” your breath shook slightly and he smiled against your neck, moving his hands up your back. 

and the only thing you can say, that your brain can think of, is to apologize. 

“none of that, don’t do that. tell me sweetheart, do ya want me to make you feel good?” he asked, and you pulled his body closer to yours. 

“do, um, do you want to do that?” you were so unsure of all this. did he truly like you? did he truly find you attractive? you never failed to question men’s sincerity, was this just for pleasure or was this emotional? 

“my sweet baby, if i ever say no to you like that, i’ve gone fuckin’ senile,” he groaned against your neck. 

“y’know how many times i've thought about being between these legs of yours?” there was nothing else that could’ve made you as wet as you were right now, you heard the roughness of his texas accent, the lust mixing with desire. he wanted nothing but you. 

“been wantin’ t’ ruin those little skirts you wear. jus’ wanna watch you fall apart on my cock,” your eyes widened and you felt a pool of arousal coat your cunt. you’d never been talked to like this, the crudeness of his words sliced whatever tension there was, and you gave in.

his lips moved down your neck and to your chest as you pant against him, your body pressed into a wall near the hallway that leads to your bedroom and restroom. he pressed against you enough so you could feel the hardening bulge on your thigh and he could feel the softness of your breasts pushed into him. while kissing your neck and shoulder, he moved your hand to feel his hardness while grunting a bit into your skin. 

“you feel what ya do to me? you see how i get for ya?” he asked, and you whimpered a bit feeling how large he really was through his pajama pants. he pulled away from you a bit and looked down at his hand on top of yours, your own hand voluntarily softly massaging his cock. 

“fuck, sweetheart, you know,” he cooed, smoothing your hair down and grabbing the nape of your neck to crane it back, “you know exactly what that pretty face does to me,” 

he tilted your head to look at him, to be close enough to his face to feel his breath on your face. 

“tell me you want me, honey,” he said sweetly, looking between your eyes and your lips. you just kept your eyes on his while he examined you. 

“i, i want you,” you said in a whisper and blushed. joel smiled to himself, another smile you’d never seen, and slid down against your body and grabbed the back of your thighs, urging you to jump and instinctively you did. 

only he made you forget you were three times the size of a skinny woman. 

“joel, wait i’m too heavy for this wait,” you said but he stayed put, didn’t move, didn’t talk. he just stared at you. 

“ain’t no such thing as too heavy, princess, i’ll still pick you up and fuck you stupid,” he assured, playfully tapping your ass as he carried you all the way to your room, laying you on your back. you swore he could feel the pulsing of your cunt against his abdomen. 

he brought you to your room, dark and quiet with the help of your small lamp illuminating your face as he laid you down on your back, falling with you. 

“gonna let me see you, baby? let me see all of this,” he said lowly, crawling to straddle you and put his hands on your tummy, groping and massaging. 

“i-,” you said, out of breath already and joel smirked. he was loving you like this. so dumb and innocent for him. 

“you’re jus’ the sweetest little thing, baby,” he said as his eyes roamed your body. “gotta use your words, baby, let me hear that pretty voice, tell me what you want,” he said again. 

“touch me, anywhere, p-please,” you whimpered out enough and he hummed in satisfaction. 

his fingers creeped up your stomach, leaving a burn with their trail and acted like he was going to help you out of it, but instead he bends down and grips the center of your tank top with two hands and careful to not hurt you, but fast and swift, he rips the weak cloth in half. 

“what, joel oh-” you said and joel’s fingers wrapped around your throat with no pressure, and held you in place as his eyes trailed over your body again, his other hand roughly moved the two halves of your tank to either side. 

“what did he do that you didn’t like, baby?” he asked you as he stayed on top, playing with your breasts by squeezing and pushing them together, only thinking impurely about you. 

you couldn’t think of anything as he felt you up as he pleased, his calloused hands rubbing your smooth skin, tugging and pinching your nipples to watch them harden and extend just for him. 

“just,” 

“he, ugh,” 

he laughs. “can’t even talk while i play with these pretty titties? goin’ dumb already baby?” 

“mmmph,” you couldn’t muster any words. it was a new feeling, feeling lightheaded and only drunk off of joel. 

“please, fuck me,” you whimpered, moving your hands to play with his waistband and try to tug at it. but he stopped you quickly, never letting you even grab a hold of the fabric when he grabs your wrists. 

“need you to tell me exactly what you want, can you do that?” he asked you and you whined, squirming with his hands still locking you in place. 

you looked up at him, his eyes only on yours and his cock straining against his pajama pants. “fingers,” 

it’s all you mustered and he accepted it, moving down a little to move his fingers down into your panties and spreading your legs with his. his fingers immediately felt heat when he spread your cunt and moved down to your hole, teasing and prodding in your arousal. 

“baby’s so wet for me, yeah? you ever thought about me, honey?” he asked you as he looked between you and where his fingers hid in your shorts, waiting for an answer. you were a whimpering mess, soft breaths and pants falling from your lips with every touch. 

“mhm,” you mustered, clenching your eyes shut when his middle finger circled your hole and pushed his palm against your clit, “always wanted you,” 

if you weren’t so dizzy, you probably would’ve scorned yourself for saying that. but he was amused, moving his scruffy cheek to glide against yours and leave kissing on your neck. 

“thought about you too, pretty girl. just so damn cute all the fuckin’ time, couldn’t stop thinkin’ about how you’d look taking my cock,” you whined at his words, trying to shut your legs to stop the pressure but he just shook his head and pried them apart. your hands were tight on his wrist, begging him to let up as he fucks you with two fingers and uses your slick to rub circles over your clit. 

“r-really?” you asked through choked moans, your body lifting up to watch him finger you. he chuckled softly, “yeah, sweetheart. can’t stop thinkin’ about ya,” 

he pauses before taking your shorts and panties off quickly, spreading your legs further and throwing them over his own spread thighs you went back to gripping at your sheets, your body responding to every touch as he spread your cunt even more and spit on it. 

“you want me to fuck this pretty hole, baby?” he asked, watching your slick cover his hand as he curled his fingers inside of you. you were a mess, incoherent, making sounds and guttural noises as he brought you closer to your edge. all you could do was nod erratically and try to close your legs. 

“i’m gonna need you to cum for me then, sweetheart. needa’ see this little cunt cum for me,” he growled, his other hand pulling his pajama pants down, easily taking them off. 

“i, i-,” you choked, your chest tight as you watched him abuse your pussy and watched as his eyes flashed quickly. he managed to lift your lower half up in the air by your ass cheeks, bringing your core to his mouth and pulling you closer to him so he could taste you. 

“daddy,” you moaned as he pulled away with a harsh breath. 

“‘s that right? that’s what you like, baby? want daddy to make you feel real good? go fuckin’ stupid on my cock?” he taunted, his words making your stomach flutter and your clit throb. 

you whimpered a small yes, but you couldn’t think. you’d say yes to anything he offered. you’d take anything he gave you. he didn’t even have to ask, you wanted him to give you anything he wanted. he went back to lapping at your cunt, slurping up any of your juices that ran down your crack, licking at your unused hole that puckered for him. 

it was a new feeling, something no one had done but the way he lapped at both holes made your orgasm build ten times faster, and soon you felt it creeping down your shoulders and sending a cold chill down to your toes. it was blinding, the noises you made were yelps and gasps as if the air had been knocked out of you. 

your entire body shook within his grasp and his mouth never let go of your overstimulated bud, sending more of your juices to leak out of you nonstop. joel wasted no time to lick you all up and manage to strip naked, watching your body go through aftershocks of your orgasm and smiling. 

“pretty girl, such a fuckin’ pretty girl,” he cooed, crawling between your legs again and grabbing you by your waist, flipping you onto tour tummy and chest as he helps you move to steady yourself on your knees. 

“you’d let me do whatever i want to ya, ain’t that right princess?” his voice was like velvet, making you feel warm all over as you pushed your ass into his groin. you whimpered as you felt his hardness against your cunt and you wiggled your hips, making joel laugh a little and slap your ass. 

“so eager too, huh?” all you could do was nod into the pillow, using your forearms to fold under it and hold your head up. the arch in your back was exaggerated, but you wanted him to be able to get the best leverage on you. 

he gripped your hips tight like you were going to leave him, and spread your asscheeks to see both holes shining for him. 

“tell me you want me, can you do that for me?” he asked condescendingly and you hummed, drunk off him grabbing your ass to pull your cheeks apart and watch as they jiggle. 

“i want you,” you muffled, your voice not sounding recognizable. it was hoarse, from moaning and crying and was about to get even more raspy. 

“good girl, you tell me if you want me to stop yeah?” 

“no! please,” you clung onto whatever he was giving you, “i want it, all of it, please,” you cried for him. 

he spits down on your asshole and watches it slip down to your cunt, and he positioned himself at your hole as he keeps your ass spread apart for him. 

“so fuckin’ messy, such a sweet cunt for me,” he moaned as he pushed the head of his cock inside, making you whimper at the small stretch. you didn’t think he could stretch you anymore, until he sunk deeper into your hole and made you start gasping for air. 

“what baby? is it too much? can’t take daddy’s cock?” he taunted behind you as your weak arms went from under the pillow to trying to push his thighs back. unfortunately with your strength, it was no use and only gave him incentive to pin both your arms behind your back, right where your back arched. 

you could feel your drool leaking onto the pillow as he slid slowly into you, not stopping until you felt his balls hit against your cunt. your legs were already trembling from his sheer size, making joel put one hand on the fat of your hip to steady you and one hand on your wrists. 

he started to pull out again, just to slide back in and repeat the movement as he slowly started to speed up the pace. you could hear faint groaning and the sound of your slick gathering on his cock, the wetness being the only noise that was distinct. 

it was pain and pleasure balled into one as he kept gliding in and out of you, feeling your walls tighten and release around him the faster he went. you felt each thrust make your body lurch forward, pushing your face into the pillow as he kept his relentlessness up. 

“oh, baby you feel so fuckin’ good, so good for me,” he groaned. he grabbed both your wrists with his hands and yanked your body up off the mattress so that your breasts are exposed for him. he takes advantage of the space between you and bed, and pulls you even further up to press you against his chest. 

“keep makin’ those pretty sounds for me, makes me wanna ruin this little pussy even more,” he grinned against your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your waist, and you threw your arms back to grab onto his hair and head. you needed something to balance yourself now that you were standing on your knees, and being fucked into like you weighed absolutely nothing. 

“d-, fuck, i can’t,” you choked through a loud moan, one that made joel grunt as he fucked into you harder. he wasn’t doing small strokes, he was pulling out almost all the way and slamming back into you in a way that sent pain to your cervix, but pressure on your clit begging to be released. 

“can’t what princess? can’t think? i know baby, gettin’ fucked so good you can’t even talk,” he chuckled, moving his hand to grab at your breast and knead your flesh. his hands molded onto your body like they were made to fit you, but all your mind could focus on was the sound of his skin slapping against yours. 

joel knew you were going dumb already, not expecting answers from you as that would just be cruel. he wanted to make you feel good, and the way your spit covered your chin and your mouth fell open but hardly any noise was making its way out, he knew he was doing a damn good job. 

“hear that, baby? such a fuckin’ pretty mess, you like soakin’ my cock like that? so damn wet, so fuckin’ tight,” you couldn’t get enough of his words when he plucked at your nipple, teasing and pinching to get you closer and closer. 

“s-so big, m’ so full,” you cried and he smiled again, holding you closer than ever as he wallowed in your voice. 

“my baby’s full of me, full of my cock,” he repeated, never slowing down as he pulled out just to push all of him back into you at once. he was in love with how you felt, he even felt like he was losing his train of thought at you let out deep moans that made his cock jerk inside of you. 

“‘s okay baby, you look so cute all fucked out like this, can’t even fuckin’ breathe can ya?” he asked and you shook your head no, reminding yourself to unclench your chest so you could let in a good breath. he heard it, and rubbed up your chest to grip your throat, which elicited a harsh whimper. 

his other hand traveled down your body, past your larger stomach and reached down to your cunt. he used the slick between your lips after stuffing them in your mouth and started to rub circles over your nub, making you squirm and wiggle against his body. 

“uhn-uh, thought you liked takin’ my cock like a slut? take it, baby.” you couldn’t even move if you wanted to, wanting to fuck back on his cock and meet his thrusts. you were almost empty headed, words sounding like words but not being able to form them yourself. 

“there you go, take it all baby it’s yours,” he repeated as he watched you grab onto his arm that held you by the neck and let him ravage you like no other. he was the animal, and you were his prey. 

the feeling of his thick cock ramming you, splitting you open while he fingers worked your clit makes you throw your head back on his shoulder and shut your eyes strongly. it was blinding, the pleasure you felt that he inflicted, and you felt yourself clenching your entire body as your orgasm reached its peak. it’s all you focused on. his hands grabbing you everywhere, soaking you in as he pushed your thick body into his chest and managed to lay on his back. he let our body fall onto his and held you up like that, his hands spreading your legs as you tried to sit up on your hands. 

you couldn’t, of course, couldn’t even think about how he changed positions so quickly, or if you were too heavy for him. your body was limp as he held you open, his thrusts becoming harsher and faster as he fucked into you. 

“m gonna, j-joel, gonna cum, gonna cum, m’ gonna cum,” you chanted in a strained whine, one that sounded needy for him. one of his hands lets go of your leg and rests his palm on your forehead, pulling you back to his shoulder so he can kiss along your jaw and neck. 

“cum for me baby, such a dumb fuckin' slut, taking my cock like you were made f’ it,” he was so insulting, so degrading, but the feeling of losing your autonomy so he can fuck you like you deserved made it even sexier for you. you didn’t know your neighbor felt this way for you, that he’d been wanting to feel you and have you like this. it was exhilarating and when you finally let go, when the ringing in your ears started and every muscle in your body tightened just to go slack again, you realized how much you’d been missing. 

you’d never been fucked to the point of silence, nothing but quiet moans and strained breathing falling out of your lips because you couldn’t think, and as joel holds you by wrapping an arm around the thickness of your tummy and letting you close your legs to alleviate the intensity, he whispers nothing but dirty things in your ear. the shaking never stopped, even as joel started to reach his peak. 

“such a pretty girl,”

“love watchin’ you go dumb on my cock,” 

“gonna fill this cunt with my cum, ya want that sweetheart?”

“can’t even talk, such a dirty fuckin’ whore,”

you were mumbling, blabbering, making noises that couldn’t even be registered as noises as his hips slammed against your ass lazily. you feel it the minute he empties inside of you because he holds you even closer than before, stilling your moving hips and you feel the heat of the white ropes that cover your walls. it was so dirty, so messy, so filthy that you wouldn’t be surprised if you were embarrassed after this. you were still mindlessly groaning, humming as your orgasm buzzed through your body and the feeling of his cum trying to push its way out. 

you both lay there, breathless, sticky and with joel still buried inside of you.

“i have… i have to get off,” you breathed out, coming back to the sense of reality. the air in your room felt cold, pricking at your skin like needles. the sweat didn’t help either. 

“no ya don’t,” he said, only to hold you tighter. 

“joel, i’m like crushing you,” you tried to wiggle out of his grasp and he just gave a quick slap to your cunt, making you jolt and still. 

“don’t be ridiculous, ya need me to show you exactly how strong i am or are ya gonna take my word for it?” he warned and you swallowed, blinking at the ceiling before you turn your head to look at the side of his face before he turns his head to look at you. still, the back of your head rested on his shoulder and your legs were between his.

“i can’t even move, joel,” you said in a smile and he laughed, leaning in to kiss your forehead and over your face. 

“i’ll help ya with that.” 

joel proved once again that he was strong enough to pick you up, because he carried you bridal style to the restroom and got a bath ready for you, joining in to help clean you up and massage your muscles. you were dazed, so entirely fucked out that you let him do whatever he needed to do with you to get you into bed. and he didn’t seem to mind, because after taking care of you he got to snuggle in the same bed he made you drool in. 

he let you cuddle into him all you wanted, wrapping your arms and legs around him to bury your face in the shirt he put on. even though it was your bedsheets and your body wash he used, he still smelled like joel. and it was all you needed, ironically the man you longed for to make you feel good was the man who stayed in 6a.

[hyunnie04]

summary: changbin loves to spoil you, but you won’t let him.

pairing: changbin x gn! reader

word count: 1117 words

warning: small mention of financial insecurities

genre: fluff

a/n: hi! this is my first drabble/short fic on this blog, i know its a little rough around the edges but i hope you guys like it anyways! any feed back is welcomed ^^

a more recent a/n; i edited this a bit at the end just to make it more coherent!

im having binnie brainrot atm excuse me

------

changbin has always been an observant person. when you and changbin first started dating, he began to notice something you did often. 

when you two would go out to run some errands together, or just simply go out on a date- it would be almost a routine that you two would just walk around, looking at clothes and or just looking at necessities for your shared apartment. changbin trails behind you, glancing and observing some of the random paraphernalia on the shelf.    

you smile at the white knit sweater that you have been eyeing since earlier this year, feeling it’s nice and soft material between your fingers. oh how you wish you could bring it home, but you knew better. your wallet and your conscience was practically yelling at you to not spend a single dime on stuff you probably don't need. you suddenly feel changbin’s gaze on your figure. 

“you like that sweater?” he tilts his head towards the article of clothing, adjusting his thick black frame resting on his nose bridge.

you knew that look, his eyebrows raising in question. he wants to buy it for you. putting the piece of fabric back in it's place, you turn to him and smile. “i-no, it’s alright.” he stares at you again, making you tilt your head at him. “but you’ve been eyeing that sweater every time we pass this place.” 

“you should get it.” he continues and smiles at you. “i’ll get it some other time. I don't… have the money right now.” you lie, voice much smaller. shaking your head and waving him off, you continue to browse the isles. he strides after you, confused. “i can get it for you, you know.”

“bin, it's okay, really.” you smile and insist. you hope that he wouldn’t press on the topic anymore. his keen eyes notice once again when you hold up a ceramic cup with a silly design that he knows you love, but after staring at it for a good minute, you quickly put it back down. changbin sighs and makes a mental note of the things you were eyeing. he’d just have to make an impromptu trip back to this shop once he has some free time.

-

now back at home, you sigh and plop down on the plush couch. your feet are just aching from the miles and miles you two have walked the entire day. changbin presses a kiss onto your forehead and beelines it to the bathroom. grumbling about how he has to pee. you laugh.

after a while, the rumbling in your stomach signals you to finally get up and make dinner for the both of you. shuffling to the kitchen, you start with opening the stove and chopping up some veggies. a strong pair of arms suddenly engulf you from behind, startling you.

“bin! i am holding a knife, don’t startle me like that.” you laugh as he starts to trail kisses on the column of your neck. he chuckles and rests his head on your shoulder for a moment. it takes a while before he starts swaying you side to side without saying anything. you've known him for so long to know when he has something on his mind.

"what's on your mind, honey?" you hum, putting the greens into the pan. "i should be asking you that." confused, you tilt your head at his answer.

"why won't you let me buy you stuff?" you glance at him, he leans on the counter and continues, "i mean- it's just that you've been holding off buying stuff for yourself for so long. you deserve a little splurging y'know."

mouth gaping like a fish out of water, you shut your mouth and continue to stir the pan.

“now, tell me why my baby doesn’t want me to spoil them?” you deflate at his words, knowing this conversation was about to happen sooner or later. 

aside from wanting to save some money on things you probably don't need part, you grew up with this feeling- having to be ashamed of people spending their money on you, you were determined not to make changbin an exception. accepting help from others growing up meant that there we're feelings of being a bother- feelings of being a waste of time.

years and years of conditioning yourself has lead you into believing whatever mental gymnastics you did inside your head was the absolute truth, no matter how absurd it sounded. maybe your strict upbringing also had a hand in it. that's the way it's always been.

so you explain to him. in all your vulnerability, all the while stirring your hot pan of stir fry.

“but i like doing this for you.” he stresses. changbin moves to rub your shoulder affectionately in an attempt to further reassure you.

biting your lip, “i just feel guilty.” you probably say for the umpteenth time. looking at him, you open your mouth to speak but is immediately cut off, “baby, please." he sighs, and turns off the stove from behind.

"why don't we come up with a compromise?" your buff boyfriend smiles at you. "like what?"

"tell you what, if you let me buy you something you want," he leans incredibly close to you, his breath fanning your face. "you'll get a kiss from me." you blush at his proximity and furrow your eyebrows at him, his grin widening by the minute.

"how is that a compromise?" you say after mulling it over.

"well," he starts, hands trailing and drawing simple shapes on your forearms. "you would get kisses and... and...." you look at him with your eyebrows raised, now very interested in his defense.

"and?"

"ah whatever!" he groans and burrows his reddening face into your neck. you chuckle and run your hands through his black hair, comforting your poor whining binnie.

"please just please let me spoil you!" he throws his hands up in defeat. changbin gives up his argument and grabs both of your hands, making his best pleading face. you can't help but laugh at your boyfriend's ridiculous sudden 180 turn. binnie continues to do his over the top aegyo at you, hoping you would crack.

"o-okay. alright! you win." you reluctantly agree with his constant pleading, his puppy eyes certainly winning you over. you turn to plate the poor neglected stir fry on the pan as he lets go of your hands and hug you from behind.

"but seriously- i'm really, really not bothered. and again, i like doing this for you- correction, i love doing this for you. so please let me?"

"...alright." you grin, already feeling lighter about the whole thing.

"thank you for putting up with me."

"anytime, honey."

[honeybleed]

— ★ MALLRATS // TRAFALGAR LAW

content & warnings: fem!reader, smut (car sex, breast play, vaginal fingering, riding, spit, creampie) non-canon (set in the 90s) law works at a comic book store, reader works at a clothing store, porn no plot mdni

author’s note: peep this fan art hehe

word count: 1.4k

“Yo.”

Law looked up from his comic as he sat behind the counter.

It was a sweltering summer day, and even the air con albeit dusty and aged was no use.

He’d taken off his button-up and wore a wife beater, showcasing his rich tan and inky black tats.

“I need some change. I’m running low on small bills.” You said plainly.

“S-sure.” Law stuttered as he shot up from the chair, rising to his full towering height.

He winced, hating how shaky his voice was. Rubbing the nape of his neck.

Clearing his throat, he stared right at you. Which only made it worse because you being up close with your face was making his heart race even more.

You arched an eyebrow as Law struggled with opening and fumbled with the cash register in front of him.

Coins and notes dropping haphazardly on the floor.

Law wanted the ground to swallow him up whole as you placed a hand on the counter, the other on a hip as you gave him a bemused look.

Law’s co-worker Shachi let out a snort at the scene unfolding in front of him.

He knew he’d be no better if he was faced with a bold and pretty girl like yourself but Law was rarely flustered.

“How much do you need?” He blurted out, words clashing together.

“Just a mix of twenties, tens, and fives.” You replied as you looked at your nails, this ordeal taking far longer than it should’ve been.

He handed the bills, and you purposely grazed your slender thumb over the inked letters of “DEATH” on his knuckles.

“Thanks, Traffy.” You winked.

“What was your deal back there?” You giggled as you sat in the cracked leather backseat of Law’s beat-up Camaro.

“Just not used to you popping up like that.” He murmured.

His hand snaked up your throat, gripping your jaw to tilt it back as he traced open-mouthed kisses along your neck.

“Mhm? Maybe I’ll come around more often.” You remarked, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip to stifle back a moan at Law’s tongue gliding along your sensitive skin.

You both pretended to not know each other to avoid the other busybodies in the mall making you two the topic of conversation. But it didn’t stop Law’s brain from short-circuiting every time you dropped by in your skimpy clothes.

“And do what? Tease me in that little tight skirt? Last thing I need is to get a hard-on in a place that smells like Funions.” He said wryly as he pulled away from your neck.

It was no secret Law hated working at the store.

He loved comics and the other paraphernalia but the customers were usually jackasses that prioritised mint condition comics and figurines over deodorant.

“Dunno. It’s fun seeing all the guys get excited over the glance of an actual girl.” You grinned as you faced Law, nipping his chin. It was difficult to crack a smile out of him but you always managed to.

You ruffled his jet-black spikes as you smiled at him.

“Makes me wanna break their jaw when they look at you.” He said a little darkly as he shifted to place you on his lap, your knees on either side of his hips as you straddled him.

He rolled your shirt up above your boobs as an impish grin tugged at his lips.

“No bra?”

“Shut up.” You snickered as you rolled your eyes.

Your laughter turned into moans as you felt Law’s mouth latch onto your breast, his tongue swirling around the pert bud as his smoky grey eyes were fixated on yours.

The sounds of him suckling on the flesh as well as your soft moan sent a shiver down Law’s spine.

Your breathing became labored as the intensity of his gaze caused heat to pool in your gut.

Your fingers threaded in his coal-black tresses.

“…Law.” You murmured, feeling lightheaded at the way your nipples strained at the exposure to the cool air as well as the way his mouth consumed you.

Your back arched as he flicked his tongue across its peak, you gasped and let out a soft sigh.

Shutting your eyes, your hands still memorised him well. Your hands trailed along his toned biceps, then dropped to slip underneath his black mesh vest.

He shuddered as he felt your acrylics rake against his flanks, and trace along the lean muscle.

He could feel his heart beating rapidly beneath your touch, and you revelled in the warmth of his skin against your fingers.

A content sigh escaped from your lips as you ground against Law, rubbing yourself against his clothed crotch.

His large hands cupped your hips to lift you slightly as he undid his pants.

He smirked as he noticed your reaction.

“Seems like you're enjoying yourself quite a bit, huh?” He muttered as he kissed the crook of your neck, using his other hand to rub small circles on your inner thigh.

Law’s length sprung free and slapped against his abs, you grinning as you fisted his cock.

“Easy.” He hissed, panting a little.

You murmured an apology as he met your lips once again.

“You ready for this?” He asked.

Law slipped his long digits into your wet heat, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit as he sucked your tongue gently, sounds of lips smacking taking up the backseat.

“Mmm, you're so wet. You want me inside you?” He said, voice almost a growl between kisses as your hands cupped his jaw. You nodded and whined as you felt his finger curl against you.

“Please…” You whined.

Law groaned as he heard your breathy moans and sighs, the heat in his groin intensifying.

“Oh, fuck. You know how to drive me crazy, don't you?” He smirked against your lips as your tongue tangled together, saliva dribbling down your chins.

He slipped another finger into you, thrusting harder and faster.

“That's it, baby. Cum for me.”

He rubbed your swollen nub faster, pumping his fingers into her harder and deeper, making her gasp and writhe with pleasure in his lap.

“Let go for me, babe.”

“I’m s’close Law, please..!” You gasped out as your velvet walls began to pulsate around his digits and your stomach caved in with your heavy breaths.

As your essence coated his fingers he withdrew almost immediately, causing you to whine from the loss of warmth.

“You look so beautiful when you cum.” He panted as he brought his fingers to your lips. “Have a taste, princess.”

You nodded eagerly and enveloped his fingers with your plump lips as you held his wrist, swirling and lapping up your juices as your eyes fixated on him.

Law couldn’t hold back the grunt at how aroused he was at the sight, feeling his cock stirring all over again.

He crushed his lips against yours again, tasting you on your tongue, his hands on your hips and helping to guide you down, groaning as he felt himself being sheathed inside your warmth.

“Ahh...shit, you feel so good. Just take it slow, okay? Don't want to hurt yourself.” You said gently, strained as the veins in his neck bulged.

“Promise…” You mumbled as you set your hands on his broad shoulders as you slowly began to roll my hips, sliding up and down his veiny cock.

Law grunted as he felt you move on top of him, his hands grasping onto your hips to guide your rhythm.

“Take your time.” He leaned forward to capture your lips in another kiss, another hand moving up to cup your breasts, squeezing them gently as you bounced on top of him.

He felt his excitement hitting a boiling point.

“I’m gonna cum, shit.” He thrusted up into you a few more times before he feels himself spilling inside you, filling you up with his cum as he repeated your name.

You felt your body go limp as you slumped against him, burying your face into his neck as you breathed heavily.

Law held you close, a feeling of contentment and pleasure washing over him as your heated skin was on his.

“You okay, baby?” He asked softly as he stroked your back softly, catching his breath.

“Fuck, it’s so stuffy in here..” You whined at the car windows fogging up.

Law chuckled as he looked around, noticing the mist on the windows.

“Yeah, we might have to crack a window or something.” He leans over you to roll down the passenger window, feeling the cool night air rushing in. “Better?”

“Mhm.” You smiled as you lay on his chest, his arm tight around you.

author’s note: again w the porn no plot drabbles again i guess lmao 👨🏽‍🦯 if u enjoyed this reblogs and interactions r always appreciated

[black-paraphernalia]

BLACK PARAPHERNALIA DISCLAIMER - PLEASE READ

[internatlvelvet]

Susan Bottomly, Rene Ricard, Eric Emerson, Mary Woronov, Andy Warhol, Ronnie Cutrone, Paul Morrissey, Pepper Davis.

[yan-wo]

Small chest of drawers decorated with flowers, birds, and insects

Korea, early 20th century

This chest is an excellent example of an early twentieth-century lacquer box with allover mother-of-pearl decoration. The incised floral motifs filled with black ink or charcoal make the piece particularly striking. The shape, size, and compartments suggest that this chest held writing or cosmetic paraphernalia.

[skvrpion]

Windows🔞

a co-opted fanfiction I previously wrote, now starring Trevante Rhodes

TW: drug paraphernalia, vouyerism, unprotected sex & general filthiness

Frozen rain and snow beat down on Shawna's roof as she struggled work Photoshop. Every picture she was tweaking ended up turning into a confusing mess, one exposure line would go too high, and she couldn't turn back. Winter storms kept her boredom high and thoughts on hold as she wouldn't dare leave the house for anything else.

With a defeated sigh, Shawna slid her MacBook under her bed and went for her phone that'd been charging for when seemed to be hours. Not one notification was to be found from any of her apps, not even the games she had shoved off into a folder. The only thing left was to go through her contacts and FaceTime every single person until someone picked up. Usually, it was her sister or old housemate that would end up persuading her back into editing or asking her to show them her pieces. She could always be thankful for the two when she needed them.

As Shawna began her mind-numbing quest, a faint light caught her eye from her bedroom window. It was rare she saw life coming from the outside her home, almost everyone in her neighborhood was old, dying, or extremely weird to the point that she didn't even bother staying outside after dark.

To her surprise, it wasn't a peeping tom or aliens trying to harvest her body for experimentation, but her neighbor that lived right beside her.

Trevante's blinds were always closed, no matter what time of week it was they didn't move a peep and tonight, they were wide open. From what she knew, he was a night owl with with a hulking stature. In the mornings she'd be leaving for work, his Jeep would roll in and he'd quickly depart into his home bundled in a ski jacket (it sadly never reached above 40 in their town). Shawna always wanted to stick around to see what he truly looked like, to even hear his voice and compare it to the image she'd formed in the back of her head over the months he'd been there.

For a moment, Shawna couldn't tell what she was looking at due to the bright wash of red that painted his room. As her eyes settled, the black SD card she had in her hand quickly left her grip and scattered across the floor.

She was captivated.

Trevante looked nothing like what she thought he did. He was way more mesmerizing than that.

Smooth brown skin flexed with the sharp, defined muscles that ran up his tall frame; almost like the marble statues she studied from the Renaissance. To her delight profile was chiseled flawlessly, cheek bones high and lips full. She watched quietly as he discarded everything but his pajama bottoms and stretched, taking note of each carefully built muscle could see.

‘Had he always been that jacked?’

Trevante threw himself back onto what looked like a bean bag and fiddled with something on the nightstand beside him. Shawna felt creepy for watching him, but just couldn't rip her eyes away. As he sat back once again, he drew blunt his mouth and lit the end, quickly tossing his head back into his inhale. A billow of white clouds escaped into the air above him as he let the hit go without even an ounce of hesitation. He lit it again as Shawna watched smoke pour from his mouth, then into his nose.

She had no idea her neighbor was a smoker; let alone how he kept the smell undetectable from her sensitive nose. Curiosity got the best of her as she inched closer to her window, giving her a better picture of what was unfolding right beside her. Smoke coiled around Trevante's room and slipped through his hands as he quickly finished off what was left of the blunt and laid deeper back into the chair. Weed wasn't something Shawna was interested in or used to. With Cogic parents, anything illegal she thought about doing would quickly be crushed and out the window. Even at the age of 27 they'd still come tearing her doors down if they suspected she was smoking pot.

‘Only if they knew what door it was in.’

A lightbulb went off in Shawna's head. She had the perfect idea to: A. get out of her boring house for a while, B. cross something off her bucket list and C. stare at Trevante in a more reasonable setting. Pulling her blinds shut, she ended the show and went back to her phone that'd been abandoned on her dresser.

It was time to make a game plan.

Flipping through countless unopened snapchats she landed on one story in particular that she quickly swiped left on.

Me | Can u show me how to roll up?

DeeStroyer | are pigs flying?? Wyd 👀👀👀

Me | I'm not being funny 💀 it's my neighbor

Me | I kinda spied on him

Me | he fine as hell & he was smoking with his blinds open

DeeStroyer | so you asking me to get you high so you can go over there and get some neighbor dick? sounds like a plan 😼

Me | yes and no! it's brick as fuck outside I know you not about to come to my place, I just need a way over there. If that doesn't sound too creepy.

DeeStroyer | there's only like 6 people that chief on this side of town, he probably comes into the smoke shop a lot. I'll catch him for ya freaky girl 😉

Me | jfc, thanks DD

Me | his name is Trevante!!

DeeStroyer | marked & 📝

Shawna slung herself into her bed and screamed into her pillow like a big ass kid. She may have found the cure for her boredom-fueled artist block.

Now to play the waiting game.

...

Three dreary days had passed and not once had Shawna's neighbor cracked his blinds. It wasn't going to kill her, but it was still bothering her that she hadn't seen or heard a peep of Trevante since that one night. Tonight was the same as every other night, her music was playing, a candle was burning, and she couldn't bring herself to render the perfect picture.

As she got lost in her head, her phone began to jingle and the name "De'aria😈" flashed across the screen. DD was calling her which meant the plan worked for failed miserably.

"Wassup' homieeee."

Her raspy voice struggled to keep up with her sluggish words as she laid on her futon with her hoodie covering her face. She was baked out of her mind and ready to spill the tea.

"You want news on your dream boy?"

"Yes please." Shawna said while turning her Pandora station completely off.

"Okay so one, he's fine as fuck. But like not even that he's like...super handsome. If you put him next to the sexiest man alive, boom, blown out the water.”

She paused to take a puff off the blunt she'd rolled and blew the smoke into the camera in typical high DD fashion.

"So, I was chillin' behind the counter, and he rolls in all smooth and and asks to get some wraps - oh his teeth are gorgeous. Anyway, I bullshit and act like the the case is broke so Mark could come fix it while I chatted him up for you. I asked him where he was from, and he said some shit about Louisiana - I was a little high so I really wasn't tryna pay attention. He’s thirty something and works logistics at the Med.”

Shawna clutched her imaginary pearls. That position was the most sought after in their town, with only one hospital they’d triple the average salary for the lucky fuck who landed the gig; the only catch was that they were located in the middle of nowhere.

"You gotta be some type of straight shot to move here and not go insane. So anyway, I asked where he lived since there's only three feet of town here and I told him he was right by you."

"You what?"

"Chill out peeping tom, I ain't blow your cover. I just said my really good friend had been wanting to smoke but I couldn't go see her so he could always show you if he wanted to, blah blah blah. He has your number by the way."

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

DD cackled over the phone as Shawna flushed with anxiety, it was always fun to make her friend uncomfortable.

"Calm downnn, he's gonna text you in like 5 minutes. I promise he's super chill, I just got off the phone with him and I think you'll be over there in like a day. I gotta finish this damn backwood before I burn my apartment down though. Later girl."

The FaceTime ended and Shawna was a complete mess internally. How was she going to talk to him? Spying on him was one thing but actually making contact with this man she'd fell even deeper in lust in was going to kill her. Before she could comprehend the situation, a random number popped onto her screen with a text.

hey, is this Shawna?

She held her breath, swiped right, and began to click her her keyboard, making sure she'd saved his contact as "Tre".

It was so happening. …

Shawna couldn't feel her feet.

She was walking only a few steps out to his house, but the combination of her nerves and the freezing weather had her body iced up. Her heart was racing out of her chest the closer she inched to his door, the light from inside his home pulling her in. After they ended their texts, Shawna immediately called De'aria and screamed a thank you. She raided her closet in search of something decent to wear, settling on a track suit that'd been re-gifted to her for Christmas. She bundled up and headed to her front door, getting more and more anxious the further she paced. Now she was standing at his front door with her camera bag in her left hand and her right hovering over the doorbell.

‘Just ring it you wimp.’

Her nerves got the best of her, and she pressed the glowing button twice, hoping he'd hurry up before her fingers fell off in the cold. Footsteps paced; locks jingled then the door quickly flew back to reveal a very damp Trevante.

"I was in the shower, sorry."

His voice was so deep Shawna could feel it vibrating in the back of her head, she would've screamed if De'aria was there. Without looking she shuffled into his place and was greeted by the strong smell of flowers; the smart man knew how to keep the smell of weed away from any surprise visitors.

Shawna studied his place, full of plants and odd nicknacks that'd been donated by various family members upon his sudden move. Trailing him, she realized how similar their houses were and began her picture taking. She loved scenery, it was just other people she couldn't photograph to save her life. They stopped at his room that Shawna had already seen in her creeping to collect what all they needed for the night. As her eyes darted in curiosity, a long, black cabinet with what looked like rocks and branches in it caught her eye. It was right beside his bed, and she couldn't figure out exactly what it was for. Maybe he liked nature?

"I wouldn't get too close to that." His voiced boomed from behind her. Shawna hid her startled reaction and turned her head back to catch a glance of Trevante. He was holding mason jar and an assortment of wraps, both brand new from De'aria's salesmanship earlier that day.

"Huh?

"Most people that come over don't like animals...well specifically them."

Shawna whipped her head back to the cabinet and realized it was in fact a terrarium she was staring at. Immediately she noticed a large, bright yellow snake that'd been hiding in the corner of the enclosure and another, fat, brown one that was coiled up tightly in the bottom.

"Carpet pythons. I forget they're in there sometimes."

She snapped three pictures of the serpents and left them alone, not wanting to bother whatever world they had going on in there.

"C'mon, we can match in the back,” Trevante said while eyeing his pets, "I'm really not supposed to smoke around them."

Shawna quietly made her way out of his warm abode and cut a left into what felt like the complete opposite. It was damn near pitch black besides the blue, fluorescent lights that casted a cold shadow across the room. It reminded Shawna of all those clubs she was drug to by her friends, just a little more inviting and way less crowded. Fiddling with the exposure on her camera, she snapped what at first was a box of nothing until her surroundings became fully recognizable.

A leather couch sat aside to one wall that was plastered with graphic style posters, some donning scantily clad women and drug paraphernalia. A fish tank glowed softly to the side of a record player that was across from them, and a coffee table stood neatly between it all. It was almost as if the place had been copied and pasted from an 80s movie set.

She tried for one more of the fish tank but caught Trevante in the midst of taking his hoodie off, he still hadn't dried off from his shower and the light was reflecting off his wet stomach. Shawna quickly put her camera down and hid her face in embarrassment while Trevante laughed. It's not like she hadn't seen him shirtless before.

"Sorry for flashing you. Can I see it?"

She handed him her camera and he softly smiled at the monitor; his shirt was still over his head leaving only the silhouette of his body visible.

"Send that to me later, it's nice"

Shawna got her camera back whilst a brilliant idea formed in her head.

"Hey before we start, can I take a picture of you smoking? That's really weird but it'd be cool with the lights...this room is really cool."

Trevante shrugged and plopped down into the loveseat, opening the glass jar he'd been holding on to. Now she knew why they called it loud, the smell almost making her eyes tear. Taking in the pungent aroma she took pictures of him breaking it down, subjugating her attention to the cone he gently stuffed. It was in that moment she noticed he in fact, was in grey sweats that she struggled to not further examine.

‘Bitch don't be creepy.’

The sound of the lighter flicking brought her attention back. Trevante was staring at her with a slight grin which made her face flush hot. Thank God it was cold out or she’d died of a stroke heat stroke then and there.

"You good?"

Shawna quickly nodded and held her camera close to her face, trying hard to conceal a smile that was working its way through her cheeks. Doing the same as he did the previous nights ago, Trevante lit the end of the joint and inhaled smoothly. To make the pictures more interesting he blew a large cloud of smoke that almost obscured the lens view. Shawna had no idea how it was possible to keep that much in his lungs, but she was soon going to find out.

"I feel like a model," he mumbled while flashing his teeth through the haze, "come here. Before I get too high."

Shawna's stomach dropped as she put her camera aside. She was about to be extremely close to a breathtaking man that she barely even knew outside of passing. All she could hear was De'aria bagging on her if she bitched out, tonight was not the night she'd fail. She slid next to him and sunk into the seating, unzipping her hoodie just a little bit to let some air hit her skin. Along with her nervousness, she was starting to break a sweat and had completely forgot about the thick jumpsuit she'd put on.

Relaxing, Shawna took the still lit joint from him and let it hang off her lip. He noticed and cocked his eyebrow before moving over to spark the flame again.

"De'aria?”

"Yeah, I punked out a lot."

"Well, you ain’t got to now, I got you,” he ensured, “Just go slow, inhale when I say...go."

A rush of warm smoke flooded Shawna's throat as she slowly pulled inwards, taking note to double tap before handing it off. Her lungs, however, almost gave out before she could exhale forcing her to cough into the collar of her shirt. Head rushing with endorphins, she'd was astonished by somehow surviving her first real toke of weed. Trevante replaced the spliff with a water bottle and laughed, making Shawna flush hot again. It was something about his smile that flipped her insides around and she really wanted him to keep doing it. She let him smoke a little more while she caught her breath and stared in awe as he French inhaled. She usually thought it looked stupid when people played with smoke, but he made it look sexy. He passed it back for her to finish the rest, but she willfully denied.

Being high was different for everyone, for Trevante it made everything feel good. From cramming numbers to partying he found solstice in the euphoric feeling. Shawna on the other hand was skeptic but quickly found her discernment to be highly false; whatever she was feeling had begun to creep down her body and into her chest. Warmth was the best way she could put it, and her thoughts? They were everywhere but where she currently was, only being able to focus on Tre’s inexplicably huge arms flexing as he ashed the joint.

"You high already?" he snickered softly beside her.

Instead of forming words that would've made absolutely no sense she opted to nod. Being high didn't seem so bad, not as bad as her dad stressed it was. Thinking of him, she started laughing again and ran her fingers through her braids, forgetting what it even was that had started her giggle fest. Trevante had gotten up to put a record on, as he always did when he smoked in here. Through the dim lights Shawna could make out an old school album and closed her eyes as the record scratched on. How he was even capable of standing was blowing her mind, she could barely type a text out on her phone which now felt microscopic in her hand.

As if Cupids angels had alerted who she was thinking about, De'aria's contact number popped onto her screen as her FaceTime rang.

"Uh oh." Trevante said while taking his seat back next to her, this time way closer. His arm was draped behind her neck when De'aria connected, making the matchmakers eyes go wide. Shawna popped a headphone in and only caught part of what her friend was saying.

"-ich are you high?! And is that his arm behind you?!"

She could only laugh, causing DD to explode in screams. The plan sounded like an L waiting to happen, but it actually worked.

"I can hear music playing, please tell me you tapping that tonight?"

"Shh shut up!" Shawna whispered while bringing her finger to her mouth. It's not like either of them could hear what the hell she was saying.

"This is great, bitch I gotta smoke another one for this. Don't call me unless you got some dick!"

De'aria ended the phone call abruptly, taking Shawna back to her home screen which was currently moving around. Instead of fiddling with it she placed it next to her and turned to meet Trevante's glossed over eyes. It was then she got a full view of his face and took in every detail she could; he really did have a perfect smile, and his beard was well taken care of. She even noted his eyes scanning her chest before he averted his attention elsewhere.

"You smacked," he said while fishing his lighter back out his pocket, "I rolled a dutch if you don’t mind the tobacco smell. You in or you done?"

"I'm aight." Shawna half mumbled; half laughed. To be truthful, the more she watched him smoke the more she found herself imaging what his lips felt like elsewhere. She questioned taking more pictures but gave up on the idea entirely as he made a sudden reach for her camera. He wanted to be nosy too - not knowing the preloaded SD card was also home to self-made nude studies from her time in art school.

Shawna couldn’t have moved fast enough as they both made a break for camera, praying to high heavens it would die before he could take a gander at her most precious assets. What started as gentle tug of war quickly turned into grappling contest as she fought him for her camera.

“What you hiding in here a dead body?”

“Maybe, just give it here. Your mama teach you any manners?”

He took full advantage of their heigh difference and held the device high in the air away from her reach with that goofy ass smile of his. If she weren’t pressed for her reputation she’d laugh. Instead, Shawna jumped, and failed, then jumped again before deciding to launch herself off the couch.

“Give it back!” Was the last thing Trevante heard before she slammed dead center into his chest – toppling them both to the cold floor. He threw the camera to safety, then focused his attention on halting Shawna’s desperate attempt at getting one up on him. She squealed, struggling to release from his solid grip until she ultimately gave up. At this point both of her arms were pinned behind her head and her legs had gotten tangled between his. She tried her hardest to look away from him, the thought of what it looked like they were doing was turning her on and she didn't want to 'pop a lady boner' as De'aria always said.

"Okay I give up," she panted, “you strong as hell.”

"Apologize for jumping on me then."

"Boy please. Manners remember?

"Sure. But how you think you getting out of this?"

"Bet if I kissed you, you'd let me go."

Shawna wasn't exactly sure if it was her or the weed talking, but she was feeling frisky and didn't want to waste such an opportune moment. She watched the solid man hovering over her pause to cock his eyebrows, then lean down closer in her face.

"Bet."

He tasted like mint and grabba, and her panties were instantly drenched at the softness of his lips. It'd been a very long time since she'd been kissed like this, hell she wasn’t sure if she’d even been kissed like this at all. Though she tried to restrain herself, Shawna stifled a moaned into Trevante’ mouth, prompting him to draw back – stifling a promiscuous grin as he gently placed her camera back in her hand and stood her upright. An out of breath Shawna eyed him bewilderedly and quietly considered how the next few seconds could go. In good ole Shawna fashion, she could chicken out and hide in the bathroom for the rest of the night…or she could get some dick for the first time in months.

Where her own words failed her, Trevante’ curious mind came to the rescue.

“I guess you won that one…Can I make bet?

“Yes” she blurted a little too quickly, prompting a laugh from them both. As Trevante caught his breath, he gently snaked an arm around her waist to steady her and caught her eyes – her heart thumping near out of her chest as they pressed against one another.

“I bet I got you wet just now.”

A gasp was the only thing Shawna could muster, in part to his filthy decree and also due to his hand gripping deep past her ass – fingertips dancing near the damp spot in her sweats.

For a second time she moaned, now with more conviction as the situation fully dawned on her. She was about to get laid with possibly the best dick east of state line – Trevante on the other hand was all teeth, marveling at how soft she was in his hands. To be truthful, he’d been in heaven tangled between her legs and wanted to feel more. See more. But, only knowing her for a few hours he was fully aware that she could hightail it back home if it was all too much.

But it wasn’t.

In fact, it wasn’t enough.

The soft grip Trevante had on her as tightened up as Shawna stole another kiss, ensuring her tongue held up a good fight against his as they stumbled back into the couch. By the time they separated she was seated eye-level with the drawstring of his sweats, finally getting a guilt free image of what he was working with. Even through the thick fabric she could make out his impressive girth, to her dismay it was about all she could ogle at before he tilted her head back towards his.

“You or me first?”

Before answering, Shawna shed herself of her zip up, “Me.”

Trevante responded by dropping to his knees, eyes never breaking contact as he helped her out of her fleece bottoms. For just a moment he reveled at her soaked panties, and to make her squirm he ran a gentle thumb in the center seam of the fabric before pulling it entirely to the side. His lips met hers with a ferocious force before she could chide him for teasing, turning her complaint into a meager whisper as her legs inched closed. She could only watch as he took her in with every part of his mouth, tongue toying with her clit as he kept her spread eagle by the inner thighs with both hands.

“Oh shit.” Was the only legible thing she could voice through the euphoria flooding her mind and body. With one hand nestled atop his fade, she gripped the couch with her entire might as he ate her from front to back; his head beginning to swivel as he lapped up the warmth dripping down her folds. Shawna had never been this horny before; of course, she’d heard about high sex but this. This was way more than she could comprehend; not even shit faced drunk did she get this wet from a kiss - let alone head. It didn’t help that her captor was the eater of the century. Just the sight of him nose deep in her pussy was enough to send her right over the edge. As if it weren’t enough, Trevante started the drawn-out process of spelling his name on her soaked clit; tongue dancing on the rock-solid button like it was his last meal.

He got to V before Shawna felting an abrupt orgasm coming on, nearly barking at the man for some sort of relief, “Tre stop…I’m finna, oh fuck.”

Startled he came up for air, his beard near drenched with her essence. She couldn’t push him back down fast enough as she began to climax against her own wishes. In seconds, Shawnas head snapped back, and she hyperventilated into a moan so loud it overcast the music – clawing her nails deep across ever taut back. Trevante met her cries with even harder tongue lashings, finally opting to let up once her legs stoped shaking.

As she came back to Earth, the man beneath her trailed small kisses up her thighs, meeting her blushed gaze for the first time in minutes. Shawna truthfully wanted to ball up and hide – to cum this quickly on her neighbors’ leather seats when there was a much bigger (and thicker) issue at hand was a bit embarrassing in her mind.

“My bad ma. You good? We can stop if you want.” He insisted from her lap.

“I’m okay. I just…wasn’t tryna do that so quick. Sorry.”

“Sorry for what,” he chided, “you taste good. Like I said, we can stop if you want to.”

“But what about you?”

“Me? I can handle that. Unless you wanna watch like you have been.”

A pang of guilt zapped Shawnas head – had he known she’d been peeping on him this whole time? She sat up, ruined panties getting warm for the ump-teeth time that night and gave him a puzzled look. He chuckled deeply and rose up. With the erectionin his is briefs now threatening to tent outward, he pulled his sweats completely off and gripped his hard on down. Underneath the fluorescent lights he looked godly, and his dick was every bit of enticing through the thin cotton briefs keeping him contained.

“I saw you that night. To be real I bout’ to jack off but I didn’t want to be the perv of the neighborhood,” he paused, hand slowly moving up and down his shaft, “but you. You wanted to see it too. You wanted to see me… like this?”

To Shawnas surprise he was beginning to moan through his words, right hand picking up speed in his shorts. With his free hand, the towering man retrieved her long-discarded phone from the floor and tossed it her way – already recording a new kind of masterpiece for her her collection. Though still incredibly high, she was still very horny and game to his antics; ensuring the flash was on, Shawna aimed the camera at her subject and took it upon herself to get him completely naked.

She took his low eyes into hers and cooed, “Let me take it out and you show me then.”

He let off another moan at her sudden touch, her fingertips tracing the poking veins trailing his skin as she peeled him out of underwear. Just as she though, his dick was as gorgeous as he was – thick and two toned at the tip, he was slick with precum and twitching out of control. With the roles now reversed Shawna was emboldened to see him get weak in the knees like she was.

“It’s so pretty Tre. Show me how you stroke it when you alone.”

“Yes ma’am,” he exhaled, voice shaking as he whimpered her name over the music. He worked his wrist from tip to the base of his shaft, fingers squelching as he pumped swears from his soul; the more he worked the wider his mouth gaped open – moaning with each breath he took.

“Shawna…,” his voice trailed off, eyes beginning to roll back.

“Huh? Say it loud papa.”

“Please baby. You got my tip so. Fucking. Sensitive.”

She was all smiles behind the camera, partly giddy from the weed, and incredibly humbled at her ability to take Trevante’ soul without touching him. He was moaning like a bitch, now choking himself out with that free hand that had held her captive minutes before.

Nasty ass nigga

“Where you gone cum Tre? On the floor or in me?” Shawna taunted. He paused for only a second and bit back a smile, “in you.”

Keeping him at bay, Shawna wagged her finger and propped her phone up on the arm of the couch, only letting him get close when she was ready. Letting her panties slip down her figure, she raised her legs and pulled him over by the back of the thighs. Eyes glued to the screen, they both watched as his head finally made contact with her folds, each parties faces screwing up with undeniable pleasure. Taking after his solo performance, Shawna snaked her hand around his throat and squeezed hard as Trevante slowly entered her pussy.

“Oh my God.” He exclaimed. Just as he expected she felt just as heavenly as she tasted.

A drawn out ‘Tre’ was just about all the stout woman could muster, occasionally peering down to watch him slide in and out of her with the growing conviction he had brewing that entire night. Rocking his hips to the slow tempo of the music, he made sure to keep that dangerous thumb of his on her clit and circle– he wanted to break her down for all the teasing she’d been doing, one step at a time. This time she was the bitch, cursing him with all her might as he fucked her deep into the couch. With every stroke her grip loosened on his neck, hands eventually flailing aside to anchor herself in place. To make things worse, Trevante’ face was crammed deep in her neck talking big shit while he drilled her,

Between each stroke he growled, “you taking this dick so good mama. Look at how creamy it’s getting.”

“W-why?”

“Why what? Why I’m fucking you like this? Cause you deserve it.”

Again, she began to pant just as she had when she came in his mouth, only this time she was dangerously close to ruining his furniture with sweat and incoming release. Shawna clung to his shoulders, squeezing him into her bare breasts to keep them both secure, and cried into the night as he roughly blew her out in missionary. Her walls began clenching involuntarily, eyes now glued to the roof of her skull as a second orgasm crept its way out of her. Besides their exclamations a sound akin to water splashing overtook their space. She was getting close and as much as Tre wanted to go all night, he knew she couldn’t survive another round.

“Let that shit out Shawna.” Was all she had to hear. With a screech of ecstasy her hips jerked into his and she wept; bouncing from his name to a string of curses she came harder than she had in almost a year.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Tre fuck!”

He, on the other hand, was still stroking– rhythm becoming unhinged as his own nut started to unwind. Even blacked out she could feel his dick hitting every spot she couldn’t with a pitiful rose toy; in typical Trevante fashion he snatched her by the jaw forced her to look him in the eyes as the tension holding him together snapped.

An airy “Im cumming,” was all he could muster – twitching inside the vice grip she had on his length one last time he finally let it all out: warm cum shooting in her soft walls and voice groaning through the blue lit room. He was surprisingly more of mess than she was, collapsing into her, hips jerking violently as his climax came to a slow end.

By the time they both came to the long-forgotten record had stopped and scratched in rhythm with their cyclic breathing. Shawna took the moment to lazily turn her phone off and untangle her body from his as he tended to the mess they’d created. She was three blinks away from sleep when he finally returned to escort her to a well needed bed, wet towel in hand for her to clean off as they shuffled to his room. Before quite literally collapsing into his bed she quipped an earnest statement his way,

“You think De’aria gone flip out when I call her?”

“Think? You better hope she don’t see that video. She might wanna watch next time like you.”

With a final grumble Shawna retorted “You the one that can’t shut your blinds.”

And with, that their banter was even for the night. With only the pale terrarium silhouetting their faces the pair drifted into sleep, chests rising in tandem to the sounds of life carrying on outside that cozy bedroom window.

[muwapsturniolo]

✯Somebody Else✯

Black!reader

Inspired by this reel i saw.

Summary: Chris lays in bed with another while thinking of his ex-lover

warnings: hella angst, brief mentions of sex, swearing, Chris being upset. weed.

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

Chris groans as he spills his seed into the condom, pulling out of the girl beneath him and collapsing next to her. Both of them breathing harshly from the intense sexual encounter.

After a few minutes, the girl sits up and tries to leave the bed, but Chris stops her, "Stay for a bit, we can roll up and chill."

She stares in confusion, not use to guys asking her to stay after sex. They are usually the first to throw her clothes in her lap and tell her to hurry up and leave.

It's a nice change of pace.

She nods and grabs her shirt, slipping it on along with her underwear. She settles back into the bed, sitting crisscross on the black sheets. Chris sits up, reaching into his nightstand to grab the items needed to roll a blunt.

As he starts grinding the weed, the girl speaks.

"Who's Dessi?"

Chris stops what he's doing, his heart clenching at the name.

"What?"

"Who's Des-No I heard you. Why are you bringing her up? How do you know her?" His tone holds a bit of malice, clearly frustrated with the name.

"You literally called me her name."

He pushes the paraphernalia to the side and rubs his hands over his face in exhaustion. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that. that was probably awkward to hear." He apologizes.

He didn't even know he did it and it has him thinking, has he done this to other women who have laid in his bed? The thought alone makes him want to throw up.

"Wanna talk about her?" The girl offers. Chris slowly turns to her, "Huh?" She rolls her eyes and grabs the grinder from his lap.

"Talk about it. it's clear you still have love for her. Maybe if you talk about her you won't call another girl by her name." She jokes softly.

He goes back and forth with idea. He could talk about her and risk crying like a little bitch in front of his one-night stand, or he could keep his emotions bottled up like he always does.

"Roll up first, I'll play some music."

The girl nods and proceeds to roll two blunts, figuring they will be here for a while. As she lights the first blunt, the sound of Lil Uzi's The Way Live Goes fills the blue-illuminated room. Chris settles back down, a pair of grey sweatpants adorning his hips.

They sit in silence until Chris finally speaks.

"She was someone I loved...I loved her and she screwed me up big time." The girl hands him the blunt, figuring he needs the drug to continue. He takes a hit, ghosting it before blowing it right back out.

"We met a couple months ago and I fell hard. She was beautiful, a little shorter than me, with beautiful brown skin. She always wore wigs but I loved when she wore her natural hair, even though she said it was too much to keep up with."

The girl mumbles something along the lines of, "She ain't lying."

Chris continues, staring straight ahead, "I met her at a party and we left to get food. She laughed at all my jokes, was super sarcastic and just had an amazing vibe. After that night I felt like I met...My person."

He hands her back the blunt, now fiddling with his phone. "I started taking her out on dates, which was new for me because I'm not good in relationships, but I wanted to be for her. I did everything I thought she would like. I got her the flowers she loved, I would buy the little trinkets that reminded me of her, for fuck sake I even wrote love letters."

"Love letters? That's really cute." She mumbles, a small smile on her face as she relights the blunt. "I thought so but she didn't. This went on for two months... She would tell me all the time that she loved what we had but she didn't want to put a label on it yet." He chuckles as her voice fills his ears.

"let's not label things yet, you're having fun, right? That's all that matters."

He shakes his head, plucking the blunt from the girl's fingers. "My brothers and a few friends would ask me what we were and I couldn't give them an answer. When I explained to my older brother Justin, he gave me this look of sadness, like he knew what she was doing all along. He told me, but I didn't listen. I loved her." The girl nods, choosing to listen instead of speaking.

"Two months ago I started getting fed up with it. I wanted to make her mine. I'm bad at talking about my feelings verbally so I wrote her another love letter. I poured my heart out, telling her how I felt from the first moment I laid eyes on her, to the point where I realized I was in love with her."

She watches as his eyes get glossy. Of course he's high at this point, but this is a different type of glossy, a glossy only made by the salty tears your body produces.

"And you know what she did?" He laughs softly, the vocal expression filled with sadness.

"She called me and told me to stop. She told me she wasn't in love with me, that she wasn't in the right mental state to be in a relationship." He wipes the tears streaming down his face, cursing internally for getting so worked up.

"I was hurt, but who was I to be mad because she wasn't in the right mental state? So I told her I got it, and that she can hit me up whenever she felt better, or comfortable being around me again."

The humming of the 1975 begins to fill the room, the girl identifying the song as "somebody else."

She watches as his breathing gets harsher, a clear indication that he's going to break down any moment now.

"She hit me up a week later...I didn't even get a 'Hey how are you' text. instead, I got a fucking video of her getting her back blown out by some douche bag and her moaning how she loves him."

I don't want your body But I hate to think about you with somebody else

He breaks down, his sobs bouncing off the wall as he puts his head in his hands. The girl quickly ashes out the blunt and wraps her arms around him, holding him close. His whole body shakes in dejection, the tears streaming endlessly.

"A-an hour later she t-texted me and t-told me to f-forget about h-her because sh-es in a relationship."

Our love has gone cold You're intertwining your soul with somebody else

The girl rubs his back in a caring manner. She's only known Chris for about three hours now, and she already hated seeing him like this. She can tell this Dessi girl has truly fucked with his mental, screwing up any interpretation he has of love.

"Shh, it's ok. Everything is ok."

"I-I just don't understand! I did everything right and sh-she just threw me to the side like g-garbage! H-how can you tell me y-you aren't ready for a r-relationship then g-get in one?!"

Her heart aches for the boy. She may not know him that well, but if she ever met Dessi on the street she would dogwalk her for him.

She continues to comfort Chris, rubbing his back and mumbling praises in attempt to calm him down.

After 30 minutes, he stops sobbing and switches to sniffling. "Sorry for that... Must have been a huge turn-off to see a guy crying like that." He sits up and wipes his eyes, reaching for the other blunt. She stops him, slowly pushing his hand down,

"Wasn't a turn-off, if anything I found it attractive...I like guys who can be vulnerable."

And c'mon baby (I know) This ain't the last time that I'll see your face

The two stare at each other, the once blue LEDS now a soft pink, illuminating their faces and bodies in the warm lighting.

Maybe it's the weed, but the longer he stares at her, the more she begins to look like Dessi.

I'm reminded that I should be gettin' over it

He shakes his head. She doesn't look like Dessi, she looks like her own person.

I don't want your body, I don't want your body

Her own beautiful person.

He crashes his lips against hers, pushing her back against the soft pillows.

"I'm done talking about her, I want to focus on you Y/N"

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

I LOVE THIS SM!!! SM ANGST! DO YALL LIKE HOW Y/N WASNT SAID UNTIL THE END?! IDK WHY BUT THAT WAS MY FAVORITE PART!!! ALSO IT'S FUCK THAT BITCH DESSI!!!

TAGLIST🍑

@bernardsgf @bernardsleftbootycheek @blahbel668 @mattfrfr @gdsvhtwa @sturniolo-aali @lily-loves-struniolos @kynda-avery @causeidontlikeagoldrush

@st7rnioioss @carolinalikesthings @mattslolita @suyqa @xxloveralways14 @pepsiimaxx @judespoision

@ivonchetooo1239 @imaslut4kehlani @that-general-simp @m4stermindd @itzdarling @gigisworldsstuff @adoreindie @braindead4l @pettydollie @chrissgirlsstuff @alexis007 @ratatioulle @yamamasjumpercables @luv4kozume @sturnioloslurps @kqyslyho3 @mattslolita

[mrsjellymunson]

Knock At The Cabin | Prologue

Written for @bettyfrommars, @allthingsjoeq and @somnambulic-thing’s Stranger Prompts, Prompt 1. He shows up at your house covered in mud in the rain, but the problem is, he died two months ago.

Series Summary: After the events of the previous months, everyone is shocked by the unexpected return of an old friend. But is it really him?

Chapter Summary: On a stormy night, an unexpected visitor arrives.

WC: 1.14k

Series C/W: 🔞 18+, MDNI, NSFW. I mean it, if you’re under 18, git! Post-S4, Upside Down exists, dark/supernatural themes. Eventual Eddie Munson x fem!reader smut. Swearing. Not much to caution about in this part, unless you don’t like rain, or bad decor.

A/N: This series contains a lot of things I haven’t written for before, so I’d love to know what you think! Please comment and reblog, it means the world to writers, and reblogs mean work gets seen. This series has a taglist so if you’d like to be on either it, or my general list, lemme know in a comment, ask or message 🙏💗

You’re holed up in an old farmhouse on the outskirts of Hawkins. It’s not exactly remote, but the nearest building is little more than a speck on the horizon so you feel pretty isolated. Owens organised it, explaining it would be a good idea for the older members of the party to lay low for a little while. Nancy had put forward an excellent argument for remaining with her family, but you, Robin and Steve had reluctantly packed up some of your belongings and relocated here. For how long, you don’t know.

It’s no palace. The wood-built building is certainly past its best, the yellowing 50s kitchen barely functional and the faded decor not to anyone's taste. But it’s (mostly) warm, (usually) dry, and most importantly, it feels safe. Which is something you all need after the events of the past few months.

You’re all acutely aware of the obvious gap in your merry band. Owens had insisted that the three of you didn’t attend the funeral, but he’d involved you as much as he could, ferrying messages between you and the kids and Wayne, discussing what he would’ve wanted to wear (you all agreed on his spare Hellfire shirt and leather jacket, knowing he’d never want to be separated from either, plus a brand new, government-funded pair of black 501s), and sneaking mementoes to you with Wayne’s approval.

Mike and Will have taken charge of his D&D paraphernalia, Dustin got his wallet chain (and wears it with literally everything, even his Weird Al shirts and colourful shorts), and Lucas opted for a small pocket knife. You, Steve and Robin each have one of his rings. Steve and Robin keep theirs in their rooms, but you wear the silver skull every day. It’s too big for your fingers, and is even a little loose on your thumb, but that’s where you keep it, spinning it to ease your anxiety, and smoothing the pads of your fingers over its bumpy surface to remind you of the friend you’ve lost. Rueing the fact that you always wanted him to be more than that, but never had the chance to find out whether he felt the same.

The kids visit periodically, even staying over sometimes, nobody expecting anyone to be watching the comings and goings of a bunch of nerdy teens. Nancy drops them off, sometimes staying, sometimes not. On this occasion she’d dropped and run, explaining that she was going to visit Max in the hospital tomorrow, spending some quality girly time with her. Lucas, who usually spent every spare moment by her bedside, was going to spend the weekend here, after Max, still seriously ill but now well enough to communicate, insisted that he needed to spend at least a bit of time with his old friends.

Tonight, you’d had a movie marathon, Keith developing an uncharacteristically generous side since everything kicked off and periodically dropping off and collecting piles of VHS tapes. Not quite generous enough to bring you any brand new releases, but even things you’ve seen before are better than the ‘sweet FA’ you’d have available given the nonexistent TV reception around here.

Popcorn litters the floor and the saggy furniture, as do gangly boys and a long-haired girl. Jane has commandeered the sole armchair, sitting in it cross-legged, and you, Steve and Robin are squashed onto the sofa with an equally squashed Dustin, the latter insisting that there was definitely room for one more.

Mike and Will are on the floor between the sofa and the old, battered coffee table. Mike’s hunched over a bowl of chips that he’s shovelling in, and Will is leaning against your legs, you stroking his hair in a way you know he finds comforting. Lucas is lounging on the floor at the side of the table, his long body stretched out and his head supported on threadbare throw pillows.

The gentle patter of drizzly rain against the windows and roof, and the crackle of the open fire, one of your only sources of heating, gives the evening a cosy feel, though you hope the rain doesn’t get any heavier as you don’t entirely trust the roof over the rear extension to cope with much more meteorological abuse.

You’ve just finished Raiders Of the Lost Ark and Steve has got up to swap it out for The Stuff, when there’s a strong gust of wind and the rainfall picks up significantly. Great, you think, the weather gods definitely weren’t listening to your silent pleas.

None of you notice Jane stiffening in her seat and shifting uncomfortably.

Under the lashing of the wind and rain there’s a sudden noise at the front door. Not urgent, not loud, just two soft thuds. If the kids had been roughhousing or the film had been on you may even have missed them.

You all look at each other, instantly and equally on edge, and all hoping that somebody, anybody, will provide a simple explanation for this.

Steve’s the first to speak. Jaw slack and brow furrowed, he asks the room, “Uhh, did anyone order takeout?”

There’s a cacophony of ‘no’s’ and shaken heads, before another soft thud is heard, just one this time.

Steve steels himself, not for the first time realising that it’s his responsibility to investigate the possibly terrifying, and potentially life-threatening, situation. He stands from his position by the video player and moves towards the door, fingertips skimming the top of the bat that’s always to the side of it, before closing his hand softly around the handle.

He pulls back the sliding bolts before twisting the lock and pulling the door open just a crack, leaving the chain on. The noise of the weather increases in volume, but other than that there’s no indication of what’s on the other side.

Steve has his back to you so you don’t see his eyes go wide, but you do hear a soft, “Wh- What the fuck?”

Robin being Robin, and perpetually thinking about her stomach, she says,

“What is it, doofus? Pleeease tell me it’s Jonathon and Argyle dropping by from Cali with some delicious Surfer Boy pizza??”

“Uh, no, it’s, uh- You know what? Maybe you should just come and see for yourself. Wait, scratch that, just the adults.”

Knowing this will unwittingly pique the interest of the kids more than if he’d just allowed everyone to come look, you and Robin glance at each other before quickly rising and moving to the door.

Steve closes it and takes off the chain, opening it wide as the three of you arrive, the kids following close behind and trying to look between you.

There, hunched, shivering, soaking wet and covered in mud, is your friend. The one who’d died saving the town. The one they’d buried only a few days ago, after he’d been lying on a slab in a lab somewhere for weeks.

Eddie.

Thanks so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed this. Lemme know if you’d like to be tagged in future parts.

Extra tags: @jamdoughnutmagician @joejoequinnquinn

[manicpixiedreamcurl]

The More You Give ❧ (Part VIII)

Pairing | Eddie x shy!reader Warnings | 18+ only. Do not interact if you are underage. Roleplay (PrincessxWannabe Usurper lmao), sexual fantasies (including rockstarxgroupie), Eddie says some weird possessive stuff but reader likes it, oral (M receiving), P in V sex, dom!Eddie, sexual guilt as per, there’s aftercare. Word Count | 10,400 A/N | Nobody ask me about the timeline of this story, either in the fic or how long it takes me to write it. Taglist Previous Chapter

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The air is stuffy, despite the growing chill outside. The last days of Summer are at least a week gone now, and with Autumn comes heated stores. An ABBA song is playing on the main floor, filtering through enough for you to make out the tune. It’s the sort of thing your Mom plays in the car all the time, your mind following the words even though you can’t quite hear them over the buzzing ceiling lights. 

I try to capture every minute, the feeling in it. Slipping through my fingers- 

The curtains pull back, the sound of metal over metal dragging you to full attention. May’s eyes are bright with excitement as she twirls, showing off how the strapless black dress fits around her waist and flares out at her hips. 

“It’s perfect, right?” She says, smoothing it down only to twirl and puff the skirt up again. “Ooh, let me see with the jacket.” 

You search through the bag at your feet for the cropped jacket she’d found earlier, then watch as she pulls it over her shoulders. She fluffs her hair and poses in the mirror at the end of the changing room hallway. “I mean it actually is perfect, right?”

“For sure, you can totally see who you are already.” 

“Right? And then I can just backcomb my hair a little. My Mom’s gonna lend me her scarf. God knows what earrings I’ll wear, but I can work it out. Definitely can’t get anything new after this,” she finishes, turning her head and pulling at the tag on her back to double check the price. She pulls a face before tucking it away gingerly.

“That bad?” 

“That bad. Even with 30% off.” May smooths her hands over the skirt again, turning once more to the mirror. Her smile lights up her pretty face. “But totally worth it.” 

Once the dress is folded and wrapped in tissue paper by the woman at the counter, paid for with what seems like every spare penny in May’s purse, attention moves to your costume. “Okay, Fairy God Mother,” May says, linking her arm with yours. “Game plan. Where do we need to go?”

“I think just the costume store. I have a blue dress I can use. But I’d like some wings and a wand. Maybe a tiara, if I can afford it.”

“Ugh, you’re gonna look so cute. Are you sure you don’t want to come to Tommy’s party?”

“The whole reason I’m dressing up is for Grace,” you reason, spotting the orange banner reading City of Fright, which appears in the same spot every year mid-September and vanishes November first. 

Gone are ABBA’s lilting tones, replaced with stock Halloween music, the occasional creepy laugh and thunder clap. The entire front of the store is complete costumes, wrapped up in plastic and hanging on metal rods, but once you reach the shelves at the back, you are surrounded by an array of vampire teeth, witches hats and face paints. 

“Eddie’s renting Theatre of Blood,” you tell her, not waiting for a reaction before launching into a prepared defence. “It sounds really good. It’s about an actor who takes revenge on his critics by murdering them like Shakespearian deaths - drowning in Malmsey wine, that kind of thing. He picked it cause, you know, he thought I’d like it.” 

“Okay, but she’ll be in bed by what? Eight?” May asks, wandering around the table of paraphernalia as you start thumbing through fairy wings piled next to fake blood bags, searching for the right blue. “You could come after.”

There’s a moment of silence, then she sighs softly. “Okay, I will say it’s kind of cute that he picked that. In a weird, not really that cute cause it’s a horror movie about gruesome murders, sort of way.” 

You stifle a grin, chancing a look at her over the table. “That sounded…almost like a compliment?”

“Almost,” she agrees, walking back round to your side. Then, before you can answer, she has seized a shiny silver plastic tiara and is reaching out to place it gently on your hair. “There. Fit for a Princess.”

You shake your head, laughing. “What about a Fairy Godmother?”

May hums, grabbing a set of the net and wire wings and pulling them over her arms. “I’m the fairy now!” She declares, raising her chin and going up on tiptoes to whirl around the racks, wings shaking behind her. “Here to make all your Halloween costume dreams come true!” 

Your heart warms, a giggle escaping as she peers curiously at the rubber masks and cat ears in character, mumbling about the strange habits of humans. 

“Oh please, fairy godmother! I need a wand if I’m going to look anything like the real thing!” 

“A wand, of course!” She cries dramatically. “No true fairy would be seen dead without their wand.” You watch her scurry on tip toe around until she comes to a display of wands of various colours, topped by stars and hearts, sequined tassels and glittery handles. She wiggles her fingers above them, picks out one with a simple silver star and travels back to you gracefully. You take it from her with a flourish. “There, and now your wings.” She helps you into your own pair, then turns and throws a graceful hand into the air. “Now, we fly!” 

You flit about after her, laughing at her with every pause she takes to frown disapprovingly at fake scars and rubber spiders. She stops in front of a Tinkerbell costume, pointing with a surprised smile at the model on the package. “Hey, I know her!”

You snort a laugh and it sets her off, all attempts to stifle your laughter only making it worse. Your giggles are only beginning to settle when you feel the sudden awareness of being watched tickle the back of your neck. 

“Uh, hi girls.” 

Your heart drops. Caroline stands, a hand over her mouth, barely covering the smirk. “You look like you’re having…fun.”

Suddenly, the clear elastic of the wings is too tight around your shoulders. You can feel the crooked angle of the tiara atop your head, close to slipping off entirely. The wand in your hand isn’t silver now, just chipped paint on plastic. 

Next to you, May is wrenching off her wings, laughing airily. “Just messing around,” she assures, folding them up and holding them with a tight fist at her hip. “You costume shopping?”

Caroline looks around at where you are. “I mean, obviously. Not for me, though, for Ethan,” she sighs. “You know boys, no interest in shopping.” She sets her stare on you, eyes scanning from the crooked tiara downwards. “Are you girls dressing up together?”

Your throat feels blocked, leaving you just to shake your head. May answers for you both. “No, no. Like I said, we’re just messing around. So we should probably put this stuff back.” She slides her wings into the space between some hanging masks before elbowing you into action. You’ve abandoned the tiara and wand and are in the process of sliding off the wings when she adds, coolly, “I’m actually going as Madonna.”

Caroline’s smirk falls, replaced at terrifying speed with a deep frown. “What? You can’t, I’m doing Madonna. I’ve got a veil and everything. Ethan’s going to be Sean Penn.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m going as her in Desperately Seeking Susan, so it’ll be, like, totally different.”

“But I don’t think there should be two Madonna’s,” Caroline continues, almost sounding sympathetic. She crosses her arms, shrugging. “You’ll just have to go as somebody else.”

“Oh,” May says, shoulders falling. “Um, right. I get what you mean.”

You’re not in the habit of arguing with Caroline. It’s been easier, historically, not to contradict her or answer back. But you can feel May deflating beside you, and it tumbles out. “But you won’t look similar or anything, they’re completely different costumes.”

“They’re not though.” She answers with finality. “They’re both Madonna, and the last thing we want is comparisons, right? People talking about who wears it better all night?”

May nods. “You’re right. Totally. I’ll think of something else. No worries.”

“But May, your dress! You can’t return it now, it was on sale!” 

“It’s fine,” May snaps before smiling close mouthed at Caroline. “I can find something else to wear, no issue.”

“You could be fairies together!” Caroline says. “I bet the guys at Tommy’s party would love that.”

“No, no, like I said, we were just messing around,” May says. “Not really my thing. And anyway, she’s not coming on Friday.”

“Oh no!” Caroline pushes her bottom lip out into a pout. “But I haven’t seen you outside of school in ages!”

“I’m babysitting,” you explain, clutching your removed wings in your fists. 

“Oh sure you are, not spending the night with your boyfriend. We hardly see you anymore, I feel like there must be so much detail we’ve all been missing out on. You’ll have to come on the next girls trip, right May? So we can hear all about you and…Eddie.”

Your heart pounds as May nods. “Yeah,” she answers. “Eddie can’t have all your time.”

“Perfect. Well, let me know what you end up doing, May! See you later, girls!”

She flounces away, and May hides her face in her hands. “I can’t believe she saw me doing that.” 

“It’s okay-”

“It’s not!” She says, throwing her hands up. Her eyes shine with frustrated tears. “It’s not okay! Not for me, anyway. It’s different for you, people already think you’re weird.” 

You blink at your friend. Then you look down at the speckled linoleum floor, watch the spots fuzz and blend into each other as the lump in your throat builds. Before five seconds have passed, her arms appear at your sides, pulling you into a tight hug. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I didn’t mean that.”

But you know that she did. You know that’s exactly what she thinks. 

For the moment you have to think about what you say now, you imagine calling her out on this. Pushing her away and telling her that she doesn’t have to spend any more time with you, given you embarrass her so much. You’d buy your fairy wings and your crown, walk out with your head held high. 

Maybe she’d call after you, apologise again, say that losing you isn’t worth impressing Caroline or sitting at the cheerleader table.

But maybe any pain she’d feel at the prospect of your friendship ending would only bring out her anger. Maybe she’d swear to never speak to you again. 

If you were somebody else, someone who didn’t love May, maybe you’d take that risk. But you are you, and you’ve loved May since you were five. To you, the only thing worse than feeling hurt yourself is the thought of hurting her back.

So you shake your head at her shoulder, blink away tears and squeeze her tight in your arms. “It’s okay,” you whisper. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” you nod, pulling away from her collar that smells the way being seven smelled. You release her, and in turn her arms fall from you. “I get it, you’re just stressed.”

“I know! I don’t know what I’m going to do about my costume!” 

Your heart pangs. You swallow the lump in your throat that’s trying to rise back up. “Well, at least the dress is black,” you say, sniffing quick and quiet. You drag your hands over your eyes, clearing away the wetness clinging to your bottom lashes. Stop it, you think. Stop crying. “Let’s return the jacket, yeah? Then you’ll have money for a witch hat or something.” 

May nods slowly as she thinks it through. “Okay, yeah. Yeah, that works.” She gives you a relieved smile. “God, what would I do without you? Let’s go.”

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“Well, I didn’t think I wanted glasses because Katie has glasses,” Grace explains, holding her plastic pumpkin, now close to overflowing with candy, in both hands at her stomach. She looks at you with a look too knowing for a seven year old, then continues. “Katie is a tattle tale.”

“I see,” you nod. 

“But I want ones like Jessica’s!” She cries, arms extending with the weight of her treasure trove before she pulls it back up. “They go dark in the sun!”

“It’s not the same,” she whines. “And then when we went to the optom- uhm.”

“But you already have sunglasses,” you reason, picturing the little red plastic pair you’ve had to run back for when out on walks many times. Grace hefts the pumpkin again and you give in, lifting the bag from her grasp and burying your wand in with the candy. You soften when she grabs your hand with a deep sigh.

“The optometrist?”

“Yeah, when we went to see him, he said my eyes were perfect!”

“Well, that’s good.”

“No!” She yells, dramatically, pulling on your arm with her whole weight until you have to  heave yourself back up. You stifle a giggle at her distraught expression. “Because now I’ll never get glasses, and everybody has them.”

“Well, first of all, I’m sure not everybody has them,” you say, smiling down at her grumpy face. “And secondly, you shouldn’t just want something like glasses because other people have them, even if it was everybody else. You can’t just live your life just trying to be like everyone around you.”

“I know,” she mumbles. Then, catching your raised eyebrow, “I know!”

You round the corner to her street, and by the time you’re approaching her house, she’s moved comfortably on to the next topic of her candy eating schedule for the next three days. “Because Jessica saves all her Skittles for last,” Grace explains, her position now firmly against being anything like Jessica. “Which is stupid, because you should have the best candy first.”

“Mm? Why’s that?”

Grace looks at you with a frown. “Because the best comes first,” she tells you, with the tone of somebody kindly trying to hold in their frustration with an imbecile. 

“Of course, silly of me to ask. Hi, Mrs. Miller!”

Grace’s Mom was clearly waiting for you near the front door, already out and standing on the front steps as you walk up the front path. Grace holds her hands out to take her bucket back, launching forward when she’s got ahold of it. “Mom! Look at all my candy!”

“Whoa! There’s no way you’ll be able to eat all that!” Her Mom says, eyes comically wide. “Think you need someone to help you out, hm?”

Grace shrieks indignantly, running under her Mom’s arm inside and clambering up the stairs out of sight without a bye nor leave for you. 

“Everything went okay?” Her Mom asks, smiling when you give her your usual answer, all fine. “Will you be okay getting home? I can get her back down if you need a ride.”

“Oh, um,” you check either side of the street, feeling suddenly warmed inside at the sight of Eddie’s van parked at the end of the road. Now that you’re concentrating on it, you’re sure you can hear the music blasting behind glass. “No, it’s okay. That’s my boyfriend.”

“Ah, Eddie.” She smiles, then smacks her teeth as she, too, registers his music. “Maybe tell him to keep it down next time? I don’t mind but I already get monthly phone calls from Mrs O’Hara about the sound of the lawnmower.” 

“Oh, sorry. I’ll do that,” 

“Okay,” she says, calling after you as you start up a fast pace towards Eddie. “You have a good night!”

You pull your cardigan sleeves down over your hands to fight the chill as you move, smiling when you can properly make out Eddie sitting in the front seat. He had a special D&D night planned when he dropped you off at Grace’s earlier. While your costume sat folded in your bag all day, he’d gone to school dressed all in black, even his white Reeboks swapped out for a pair of knockoff doc martens he’d launched himself towards when he caught sight of them at the thrift store. They’d fit him just fine with three pairs of socks.

This morning, sitting in his van, he’d barely managed to control his excited twitches while you lined his eyes with a cheap black pencil from the drugstore. Your work is a little smudged now, but on him, it looks even better than before. Which makes sense, you think. Eddie doesn’t suit neat lines. 

“Hi Princess!” He calls, turning the music down enough that his excitement is just audible through the glass as you approach. 

“Not a Princess,” you remind him as you climb in, turning your back to shake your shoulders and display the blue net wings. “A Fairy God Mother.” You settle back into the seat, shivering away the chill that had gooseflesh rising over your body. Eddie rubs your arm over your cardigan, and you take the opportunity to grab his hand. As much as you want to warm your cold fingers, it’s mainly just to touch him. “How was the game?”

His grin turns sharp as he leans back in his chair, chin tilted up. “So fucking good. I have them right where I want them. I thought for a second Lucas had me worked out. He hesitated when they were getting to the caves, but then he just went along with it. I can’t wait till next week.” He lets go of your hand long enough to start up the van before returning his open palm to the space between you for you to take hold of him again. “How is Princess Grace?”

“Increasingly despotic. She executed like five of her toys before we went out trick or treating.” 

“Jesus,” Eddie laughs. “What for?” 

“Well, her not-so-wise Fairy God Mother,” you start, gesturing to yourself. “Made the mistake of telling her about royal food tasters? Now there’s a poisoning attempt every few days.” 

“Very active imagination, this girl. Violent, but active.”

“Mm, I think most girls play that way. When I was little- Well, me and May, we’d act like witches sometimes? And make potions out of mud and sticks and stuff. And talk about who we would curse.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks. “And which poor soul had earned this spite, pray tell?” 

“Did you ever have Mr Gilmour?”

“Oh, Gilmour, yeah, I fuckin' hated that guy!” Eddie yells. His eyebrows furrow. “I threw up during gym in seventh grade and the sadistic prick made me finish running a mile.” 

“Yeah, I forgot about that till now.” His brows stay taught for a second longer, then he shakes his head a little, tapping his fingers along your knuckles. “Too bad I didn’t have you around then, coulda cursed him for me a little earlier.”

“Oh, Eddie, that’s horrible.”

“I would have,” you promise. “But you were telling me about the game. Did you get Dustin with the, um, venom troll?”

“Not yet. We didn’t get as far as I’d have wanted before they had to go. I mean, what fourteen year old has a curfew? I didn’t, and I turned out alright. But I’ll get him next week. I can’t wait to see his face - that little punk thinks he’s so smart, but he is pre-dictable.”

Eddie continues describing the campaign, the traps he’s set for them that he’s sure they’ll run into, the whole drive to his place, excited and animated as he usually is on the rare occasion you get to see him after Hellfire, wound up from the events of the day. He only slows down when you’re settled on his couch. Sneakers left at the door, wings, tiara, and wand abandoned on the kitchen table, wrapped up in his arms as the opening titles of Theatre of Blood play. 

Eddie’s so warm, and unusually still when you sit with him like this. Being cuddled up to him puts you in mind of your aunt’s black cat. She spends the first couple hours of every visit pretending that she isn’t interested in being anywhere near you. Then, after letting her sniff your hand, rubbing gently between her ears, she darts up on your lap, her soft heat spreading through you. 

Eddie might not admit it, at least not verbally, but he likes being petted the same way. You’ve seen his eyes flutter when you play with his hair, heard the gentle sighs he lets out when you touch his cheek. Now, leaning into his chest, rubbing lazily at his torso, you can feel the way his body relaxes into the couch under your touch. It makes you smile at the TV even as Vincent Price swears revenge on all his critics.

You turn your head just a little, trying to be subtle as much as possible so you can look at him properly. Eddie’s eyes, which in sunlight can be bright as copper, are dark and focused in the electric light of the TV. The light freckles that dotted the tops of his cheeks and nose during Summer have faded from the cloudy days and early sunsets, leaving only his soft pale skin. His lips, as always, are soft looking and pink, still shiny from the last time his tongue peeked out, set in a near constant subtle pout. 

You sigh gently, and in turn breathe in the remnants of smoke and laundry detergent from his shirt, the fading spice of his drugstore aftershave.

“You know I picked this movie out special,” he says, only his eyes moving to fix you with a mockingly suspicious expression. “Vincent’s a master.”

You’re surprised to find you’re not ashamed at having been caught. “M’just looking at you.”

“Therein lies the problem, sweet thing. One minute you’re just looking. Next thing I know my head’s trapped between your thighs.” This time he leans in properly. “Wicked temptress.” He whispers it, his breath warming your face. 

You think he’ll kiss you then, but instead he relaxes back into the couch with a sigh. “M’just lucky you weren’t dressed up all day.” His hand tugs at the hem of your skirt, then spreads out just above your knee. “I wouldn’t have been able to think about anything else. It’s a miracle I even got the movie playing instead of trying to touch you.”

“I wouldn’t have minded,” you answer, trying not to sound too eager. 

“I bet,” he says, eyes shining. Then his face turns serious, palm coming to his heart. “But Eddie the Chivalrous would never touch a Princess without properly wooing her first.” His eyes scan over your face quickly. “I guess that means we need to finish the movie.”

He’s teasing you. He wants to push, see how much he can get you to say, if you’ll ask him outright to just touch you the way you want. Warring feelings compete to decide what you do next. Maybe months ago, when you first started dating Eddie, you would have pressed your thighs together and settled in to finish the film. A part of you still calls for that, screams that whatever you say won’t be right. 

You stare at Eddie now. His eyes still lined dark, the smirk he’s trying to hide. Your toes curl just looking at him, and the thought escapes naturally. “You don’t look like Eddie the Chivalrous, right now.” 

Eddie blinks slowly. His head tilts. “No? Who do I look like, then?” 

Now, something like shame creeps back in, and you wish you’d just settled down to watch the movie.

You haven’t ever put a name to it before. In your fantasies, the ones that appear unprompted when you’re alone in your bed and you haven’t been able to touch him in a couple days, Eddie’s always Eddie, but sometimes just a little different. 

Maybe Eddie the Chivalrous is the right name for how you first thought about him like that, calling you Princess as usual but meaning it. You thought about him as your knight and guard, sworn to protect you, breaking all the rules by laying you down and treating you gently, better than any lord or Prince you could be promised to.

Then you’d think about his laugh, the one that comes out when you moan a little loud, or lose your patience and try to direct his hands or his tongue to where you need him. The mocking gasp and teasing tone that often comes along with it, you want it bad, huh, Princess? You think about an Eddie who’s like that all the time, teasingly mean with you, dark and dangerous to everyone else, finding you alone in your soft bed, holding your hands above your head and- and-

People already think you’re weird.

You give in to the sudden hot shame, pressing your face to Eddie’s chest lest he read your expression so perfectly that he works it all out. You whisper into his shirt, more to yourself than him. “I’m so weird.” 

“Well, s’a good thing you’re with me then, mm?” He says, big hand moving to stroke the back of your neck. “Cause if you got a fantasy, like, something you think about when I’m not around. You know I won’t judge you for it, right?” 

“I know.” It comes out muffled against his shirt but it’s certain. It’s instinctual, now. You’re as sure that you don’t need to worry about Eddie judging you as you are that the sun will rise tomorrow morning. More and more, you find yourself talking to him the way you talk to yourself in your head. Easy and free, not waiting for the other shoe to drop. But this is different. “It’s just- It’s like-” You sigh, searching for the words that won’t come. 

He hums, still rubbing your neck. “Maybe I could- I mean, do you…wanna hear one ��a mine?” You emerge from your hiding place, leaning back into his hand to gauge how serious he is. Eddie’s eyes crinkle at the sides at having coaxed you into looking at him again. “Yeah?”  

“Okay.” 

“Okay,” he echoes. Eddie searches his side for the remote first, pausing Vincent in the middle of another monologue. “Okay. Well, yeah, sometimes I think about- Wait no, gotta set the scene. I’ve just played maybe the best show of my life. Nothing too big,” he continues, giving you a serious look. “I’m not a sell out. We’re talking the smaller arenas, you know? Anyway, after, when I get backstage, feeling like hot shit, there’s this girl. Prettiest I’ve ever seen. And she’s wearing the band’s shirt.”

“And she’s a little shy. Can barely look me in the eye-” He catches you just as your gaze moves to his collar, pulling you back to staring, helpless, into his dark eyes. Eddie takes your hand from where it was playing with the hem of his shirt, weaving your fingers together. “She’s kinda fidgety, too.”

You swallow. “Me?”

“You, sweet thing. S’always you.” You bite the gum behind your bottom lip, holding back from grinning too much. You squirm a little under his gaze, waiting for him to speak again. “And you tell me you’ve been waiting for me,” Eddie says, voice smooth and quiet. “You tell me you’re my biggest fan. And you can’t quite say everything you wanna say, but it doesn’t matter, cause I’ve got you worked out. So I get real close,” he says, his face disappearing as his mouth moves towards your ear, “and I ask if you want me to touch you?”

“And I do,” you continue for him, shivering again at the little groan Eddie lets escape from his throat. 

“Mm hm, real bad.” His eyes reappear, scanning over each part of your face. “So bad you wanna earn it. Wanna show me I was right to pick you and not some other girl. You get on your knees for me.” Eddie licks his lips quick. “And I know you’re kinda inexperienced, but it’s good, the best I’ve ever had. You know why?” You shake your head, gaze darting between his eyes and his mouth. You watch his lips move around his words. “Cause you’re so fucking grateful for it.” 

“Mm. And when I decide you’ve earned it, I lay you back on a couch somewhere. A green room or a tour bus or something. And I show you you were right to wait for me.” You shiver. It’s a delicious thrill to picture Eddie that way, completely new to you, a total stranger, yet so sure of what he can take. “And after that?” He says, giving the back of your neck a squeeze. “I keep you.”

“Eddie.” You feel your heartbeat between your legs, wishing he would touch you there now, or even put you on your knees the way he wants so you could show him you’re as grateful for him here and now as you are in his fantasy. 

The fantasy fades when Eddie kisses you. With the press of his lips, the taste of Dr Pepper on his tongue, he’s your Eddie again, familiar and perfect. You’re still floating back to Earth when he pulls away. “Your turn.”

You flinch, crashing to the ground instead. “What?”

“You like Latin, right? It’s quid pro quo, sweetheart. I show you mine, you show me yours. Tit for tat. That was the deal.”

“It was implied.” Eddie answers breezily. Then, with his thumb rubbing gently at the back of your hand. “C’mon. Try? You liked mine, right?” You give a barely noticeable nod, but Eddie catches it. “Yeah. And I bet I’ll like yours.”

“There was no deal!”

“I can’t- I don’t have it all, like, thought out the way you do.”

“Well, I’m a storyteller by trade,” he says, pressing his free hand to his chest. “All my sex fantasies have lore. And we can build on yours, if it needs it.Alright. I’m not Eddie the Chivalrous right now. Who am I?” He tilts his chin to where you have started playing with his rings, twisting each round his fingers in turn. “Apart from Eddie the Stress Toy.”

“It’s not- You’re just-” You swallow, rubbing your thumb over the metal skull sitting where a wedding ring would go. “You’re just somebody…somebody I shouldn’t want.”

“Intriguing. And you are?” Your face flames. You mumble it, barely opening your lips, and Eddie squints. “Mm?”

You sigh. “Princess.”

“Always,” Eddie replies, ducking his head to make sure you see his face, reassuringly still smiling. “Okay. I can work with this. Maybe I'm…Eddie the Banished. I tried to take power for myself by force but I failed.” He brings your hand to his mouth, kisses the thin skin at your wrist. “And I’ve returned, because I realised I don’t need to win a battle. I just have to…take the Princess?”

You clench around nothing. “Yeah.”

“Fuck, yeah. C’mon, sweet thing.” 

Your gaze follows him as he stands. “You want- Right now?”

“Why not? We’re all dressed up. The time is now.” Eddie pauses his excitement when he registers the fact you’re still sitting. “If…if you want.”

“I do,” you breathe. “But I can’t, y’know, talk like you.” You just know Eddie already has some dialogue thought up, things he can say as the character he’s just come up with that will make you dizzy. “I’ll get stuck.”

“Maybe you will, maybe you won’t,” Eddie says, squatting down in front of you, hands spread out on your knees. “I don’t mind taking the lead. Besides, the Princess would be kinda nervous anyway, right? If you’re not supposed to want me. The outlaw, the traitor. You’ve been told about all the terrible things I’ve done, what I tried to do for power. Now you feel guilty about what you really want from me. And I’ve been thinking about you while I’ve been on the run, living rough- You know, this is good stuff,” he says, interrupting himself and looking round. “You got a pen? I should maybe write some of this down- No. After, sorry.” He gives you a sheepish grin, then leans in close. “Don’t think there’s much chance I’ll forget this, anyway.” 

He stands then, hand extended to you with wiggling fingers for you to take and let him guide you through to his room. Eddie hums when his door is closed, shutting out the world beyond the frame. “Shoulda done this at yours,” he says, sitting you down on the mattress. “In your pretty Princess bed.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you say breathlessly, meaning it entirely. All that matters is it’s him. He’s the only person you could do something like this with. 

“Okay, I need a little more. You shouldn’t want me, I’m…morally grey, let’s say. Chaotic neutral. Am I mean?”

“Kinda,” you answer. “You’re…selfish?”

“Selfish,” he repeats. 

“Just like, y’know. It’s like-” Eddie’s hands spread at the sides of your thighs, teasing the skin at the hem of your skirt. You want them everywhere. “You know I want you. That I’ll…do things for you. And you take advantage. ”

There’s a pause. “I think I’m following. Things somebody like you shouldn’t do?” You nod quickly, cheeks burning as you watch him work it out. “You wanna get your mouth on me, Princess?”

You fight the instinct to hide, the urge to look away, the voice telling you to deny everything, take it back. Instead, you start playing with the hem of his shirt again, soft cotton between your fingers.  

“Mm hm.”

“Shit. Okay. Anything-” His voice cracks a touch, and he clears his throat before he speaks again. “Anything else?”

“It’s not like- Even though you’re mean, you still- With me, you feel-” Now you do have to look away, staring at where your fingers are fiddling with the black fabric. He can read you too well, and you don’t want him to see exactly what you want from him. “You-”

You love me. 

“I feel…how I feel about you?” He suggests.

You bite the gum behind your lip to stop yourself asking exactly what that means. “Yeah.”

“Okay, good. Hard to pretend anything else.” Eddie leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips, long enough that your whole body relaxes into it, your mind settling on Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. When he pulls away, it’s easy to answer his question. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

Eddie stands to full height, his shoulders back. He tilts his head, expression shifting. From your Eddie, with chestnut eyes and his perfect, dimpled smile, to a smirking man with a dark gaze excited to ruin you. 

“I’ve been looking for you, Princess,” he says, voice smooth and confident. A thrilled shiver runs up your spine. “Knew I’d find you eventually, but I could only hope I’d find you like this. All alone.” He takes a step towards you. “Unprotected-”

“Eddie,” you whisper. 

Softness peaks through with raised eyebrows. “Good?” You nod quickly, and it disappears again as he slinks closer towards you. “I missed you, while I was away,” he tells you, soft and teasing. “Did you miss me?”

“I-” You swallow. You’re used to repeating back what Eddie says to you, in times like this, letting him guide you through everything he wants to hear from you. But you don’t want to just watch him do this for you. “No.”

Eddie blinks, surprised, then he puts on a mockingly hurt face, hand over his heart. “No? You wound me, Princess.” That same hand reaches for your face, cupping your cheek. His thumb strokes gently under your eye and you can’t help but lean into him. “Or you would, if I believed you.” He tilts your head up to see him properly, standing over you. “You think I didn’t see the way you’d look at me, before I left?”

Your fingers twitch to reach out and brush at the ends of his hair as it falls towards you, but you keep them at your sides on the bed, curling into the sheets. “You didn’t leave, you-”

“Left, banished, driven out; it all comes to the same end, mm?” His eyes scan your face, down your dress and back up. “That’s you and me, Princess. Here, alone together. You gonna pretend you never wanted that?”

His thumb, callused and warm, keeps rubbing over your cheek. “I can’t want it”

“No, you can,” he presses. Eddie, your Eddie, would sit with you now, squat in front of you to talk to you at the same level. Now, his grip on your jaw tightens just enough to remind you that he could stop you looking away if you tried. “Cause I’ve had time to think about it.”

“While you were hiding in the woods?”

“While I was regrouping,” he corrects. “I realised something. I went about it all wrong.” he tells you. “It was foolish of me to try and use force to get what I want. Not when you were right here. Waiting for me.”

His thumb pulls at your bottom lip, then presses inside to the tip of your tongue. 

“If I make you mine, everything else follows. That’s right, isn’t it?” He nods slowly until you copy him. “The throne, power, vengeance on everyone who tried to hold me back. And you, in my bed every night. All day if I wanted.” He pulls at your lip again as he steals his thumb back, leaning in until his breath is warm against your cheeks. “That sounds nice. Doesn't it, Princess?” You glance at his lips, wanting him to kiss you now, to take it from you. Eddie shakes his head, drawing your gaze back to his. “I wanna hear you say it. You wanted me to touch you, just like this, and more, didn’t you? Wanted me to show you how to make me happy?”

You can feel your heartbeat heavy in your chest, your breath coming quicker. Only Eddie could do this, have you convinced of a story which before tonight only existed half formed in the fantasies of your bedroom. You can feel the internal conflict as if it really is your duty to say no, and your heart’s only desire to give your next answer.

“Yes, Eddie.”

He gives you a kiss that’s half teeth, dragging at your bottom lip. Even this is different. You’re used to the gentle start, feeling him smile on your mouth. He breathes deep through his nose, pulls from you so suddenly that you make to follow him until he presses a hand to your shoulder. 

“And I will. Get on the floor.” Eddie steps back, and it doesn’t even occur to argue with him now. You slide off the mattress easily, knees falling to the carpet without looking away from him. There’s a pause. He speaks quietly, as if he doesn’t want an invisible audience to hear. “You comfy? You want the pillow?” 

“No,” you answer, heart aching. “I’m okay.” 

“Okay.”

You watch the way he steels his face again, looking at you on your knees in front of him like that’s where you’re meant to be. His hands work at his belt, a soft hiss escaping when he presses his palm down the front of his pants. His head tilts back, displaying his thick neck, the rising pinkness across his pale throat, and he breathes a laugh. “Now, Princess- Wait!” You jump at the suddenness of Eddie pulling his hand from his pants only to clasp them at his waist as he half-jogs towards the door. “Just a second. Don’t move!” 

Eddie disappears through the door, mumbling to himself. His words are faint but it’s clear enough that he is looking for something. You close your eyes, focusing on his voice, however fuzzy. You never thought you could have something like this. Someone like Eddie. Someone safe. So safe that you can abandon yourself to fulfilling a silly fantasy thought up under the covers of your bed. 

Something catches your hair and you open your eyes to find him standing over you again. The tip of his tongue curls over his top lip as he places the plastic silver tiara just so on your head. When it’s as he wants it, his teeth show with his smile. “Perfect,” he says, pressing two fingers to your chin and turning your head each way. “My Princess, mm? I’m going to show you what it is to be mine.”

Eddie reaches into his pants to pull himself free. His hand drags over the shaft, quick and dirty, just for a moment’s relief if the clench of his jaw the second he stops is any indicator. 

You think you know what to do now, tipping your chin, opening your mouth, ready to take him. Only he angles his head away from your tongue. You peer up at him in confusion, watch the way his excitement plays out on his face. “C’mere, Princess.” 

Cupping your cheek with his spare hand, he guides you to the base of his cock, where he is softest. Your lips graze the fuzzy skin of his balls and Eddie makes a noise that has you squirming for the lightest touch between your legs. You kiss delicately, blinking up at him, watching his thumb rub over the head of his cock, catching wetness to ease the slow movement of his hand. He taps his fingers on your cheek gently. “Open up. Want your tongue.”

Your toes curl. You want to taste him here, aching at the smell of him; like his neck at the end of the day in Summer, his sweat and musk, fading body wash. You want to make Eddie feel good so badly, you think you might do whatever he asks as long as he looks at you the way he is now. 

You reach for him, palm settling on his knee where denim meets exposed skin. Opening your mouth, you lick quickly at the seam of his balls, taste salt on soft skin. He groans, fingers flexing around your jaw. “That’s it,” he encourages. “Fuck yes,” Eddie bites out when you lick broad and wet up to the base of his cock, thinking of his wide tongue drawing upwards from your pussy to your clit. “Fuck, yes.” 

He draws you back, smiling down at you. It makes your face burn, but you struggle between looking him in the eyes and staring at his cock. His balls are pink and wet from your attention, his hand moves steadily over his length, drawing folds of skin over his thick head and back.

“Want you to suck on them a little,” he tells you. The pause he leaves gives a moment for you to squeeze at his knee, as if presenting your open mouth wouldn’t be enough to show your agreement. He drags the weight of his balls over your chin to your wet tongue, listing off curses when your lips close just enough to suck gently. Eddie’s hand moves faster over his length, the curve of his fingers brushing your forehead with each tug.

Eddie’s groans are all that matter now. His sack is heavy, falling past your lips the wider you open your mouth. “So fuckin’ full cause of you,” Eddie bites. You hum, closing your eyes, his hips stutter. First towards the warmth of your mouth and then away entirely, replacing his sack with the head of his cock tapping against your tongue.

Eddie gasps when you lap at his leaking tip. “Can I-” He pauses, rephrases, puts on the right tone. “I’m gonna fuck your mouth now, Princess.” 

He watches you carefully, gives you time to tell him no. You squeeze his knee once more, gaze moving from his dark eyes to his cock. You press a quick kiss to the swollen head, a darker pink than the rest of him where it peeks through folds of skin, then let him press your head back against the mattress. 

Eddie’s cock glides smoothly over your tongue to the top of your throat. “Fuck,” he breathes, rolling his hips. “M’starting to think this is what you wanted the whole time.” He eases further, just past the entrance of your throat. It’s easier, like this. You are more open to him with your head tilted back this way. He holds himself in the warmth of your mouth, watching you blinking back tears to try and keep him clear in your gaze. Finally your throat protests, and Eddie draws back till you can suck at his head, the exposed length of his cock shining with your spit. You gaze at him, wanting him to be proud of you for taking him deeper than you have before. He makes a soft encouraging noise, but Eddie like this won’t give you the validation you want so easily. “Teased me for so long. I think I deserve to take what I want, now.”

Eddie thrusts slowly at first, easing you in despite his words. The hand that was on your cheek now stroking at your heated forehead. 

You like it like this. 

You liked having him in your mouth the first time, and every time after that. Like watching him shake, hearing him groan and whine, and knowing that you’re the one making him like that. You like focusing on him; lick here, nip there, let him feel you moan around him. Now, you don’t even have to think about how best to please him. You can focus on your breathing, taking air in through your nose when he pulls back enough. And on Eddie and how he looks as he takes his pleasure from you. 

Eddie’s so beautiful. His dark hair frizzes around his face, eyes crinkling at the sides when he closes them and groans into the air. His neck is pink, a pretty blush crawling up to his cheeks as his thrusts speed up. “We’re gonna do this all the time, Princess, you hear me?” He grits, fingers curling into the sheets at the side of your head. You moan in answer, pleased when it makes his cock twitch in your mouth, his tip dipping deep enough past the entrance of your throat that you can’t blink away the wetness that springs to your eyes. “You’re gonna be in my bed all the time, maybe I’ll tie you up, mm?” He presses deep again, then holds steady. When the tears collected at the corners of your eyes start to fall, he wipes them away before they can reach the apples of your cheeks. “Keep you here, just for me. Don’t need to see or talk to anyone else ever again.”

If your head weren’t fuzzy, you’d start questioning why that makes you ache. Eddie withdraws his cock from the top of your throat and you only take a second to gasp in the air you need before following him, reaching up to touch the inches of his cock your mouth still can’t quite cover. Eddie laughs through a moan at the feeling of you jerking his cock into your mouth, licking wet at the end of him. “You want that, huh? Hey-” He drags you away from his cock, leaving you with wet, pleading eyes looking up at him. “You want that?” Your mouth opens, then closes. Your hips roll, seeking friction you can’t get while kneeling like this. Eddie’s eyes flick down, lips turning up at the sight. “Get on the bed for me, mm?”

Eddie reaches a hand out to help you sit up on his mattress. Then he pulls his shirt off over the back of his head, exposing all the soft pale skin and dark ink of his torso. You pull your dress up too, knocking your tiara in the process. When the dress is off entirely, Eddie’s there in an instant to fix it for you, his fingers caressing your cheek when he’s done. “Hey, uh. Am I doing alright? Is this the sort of thing you imagined?”

“This is better,” you tell him earnestly, loving how pleased he looks. You’re learning that this, the pleasure gained from praise, is something you and Eddie share. You love it when Eddie calls you good, or smart, or sweet. When he tells you that you’re good at something he’s teaching you. In turn, Eddie likes it when you tell him how good he makes you feel, that he’s doing everything right, that he’s looking after you exactly how you want it. 

He kisses you, and it’s softer this time until he bites gently at your bottom lip as he’s pulling away. “C’mon and lie down, Princess,” he says, guiding you to lay down. You press your legs together, knees bent and feet flat to the mattress as Eddie climbs up after you. His hands stroke up and down your thighs, making you giggle softly as he passes ticklish spots. It relaxes you enough to let him guide your legs open and back, allowing him closer. Eddie tilts his head, thumbing the little blue bow at the waistband of your panties. “You really want me to tie you up?” 

Without thinking, you glance quickly at the handcuffs hanging from his door. You feel the beat of your heart against your chest, wondering if you’re ready for that, knowing really that you’re not. Eddie’s hand cups your cheek, directing your gaze back to him. He kisses your knee. “Not tonight, Princess.” He leans in, whispers. “And only ever if you really want, okay?”

“I know, Eddie,” you answer. And you do. You know that as much as Eddie is teaching you, seemingly leading you along to each new experience, in truth he’s making sure you set the pace. 

“Take this off for me,” he says, pulling at the strap of your bra. You reach underneath your back to unhook it, shimmying it off your arms and letting it drop to his floor. Once you’re settled, he takes both your hands in his, pulling them up over your head. You can’t help but giggle, feeling both nervous and giddy. “Hold onto the headboard?” You follow the instruction, wrapping your fingers around one of the wooden slats. Stretched like this, chest presented to him, you feel open and exposed, your nipples tightening from the cold air and from Eddie’s attention. “Don’t let go, mm?”

He leans down, kissing from the base of your neck down the skin between your breasts, his hair dragging behind him, tickling the sensitive skin. He leaves a wet mark on the curve of your left breast, the sting of his teeth quickly soothed by his tongue. When he takes the tight bud of your nipple between his lips, your whole body tenses. It’s a test of your submission, if you can last with only your memory of what it feels like to tangle your fingers in his hair. If you can bear not to tug at it when he flicks his tongue like that. 

Your hands tighten around the wood, hips tilting to find his cock where he tucked it back in his boxers, still hard and throbbing between your legs. The friction, however light, against where you have been waiting for him all evening, is too good to give up, and you keep searching for his hardness to rub against. 

Eddie releases your breasts with a grin. “You want it bad, huh, Princess?”

You whine, melting when he presses his hips forward to give you more delicious friction along your pussy. He huffs a laugh, sitting up and quickly reaching out for the pack of Trojans on his bedside. You watch him kneel between your legs, the way he fists his cock while he tears at the foil square with his teeth, his desperation to roll the condom over his length. Eddie shuffles forward on his knees and presses his wide hands to the back of your thighs. He gently guides your legs back, hitching your hips up for better access to your pussy, wet and swollen under his gaze.

“Wanted this for so long, Princess,” he says. “You’ve been waiting too, hmm?”

“Yes, Eddie. Been waiting so long.” You nearly cry from relief when his cock latches at your entrance, then from despair when he stills instead of filling you. The headboard creaks from your squirming. “Please,” you whisper, sounding pathetic in a way that would embarrass you if you weren’t aching from the emptiness.

Eddie stretches you perfectly as he presses inside your slick cunt. The tease of pain feels good now that your body recognises what it means, where Eddie filling you up leads. “Good?” He asks, once he’s deep enough inside that the curls of hair above his cock are teasing your clit. 

You mean to answer properly, but the intention is overtaken by the need for him to move. Waiting for him, your fingers tighten around the wood so much you swear there will be marks from your nails. “Eddie.” It comes out whinier than you intended, but he certainly doesn’t mind. 

“Eddie,” he mimics breathily, his teeth showing as the heat of pleasant humiliation crawls up your spine. He doesn’t keep you waiting any longer, snapping his hips to draw back and press deep again through your clenching cunt.

You’ve been under him every time, but like this you feel helpless. Hands voluntarily useless, body tilted up and legs opened by his hands, your body presented to him and positioned perfectly for him to set the pace. It feels right for this - you know now what the romance novels you hide under your bed mean when the heroine is taken. 

Your toes curl when Eddie’s hips roll just right, the heavy head of his cock hitting the end of you. When he reaches between you to press a thumb to your clit and rub in tight circles, your body tilts, hips trying to chase the pleasure, only for Eddie to press you back down to where he wants you.

“I like it,” you answer. “I like it, Eddie.”

“You like it, like this, hm?” Eddie asks. You blink at him slowly, wondering if it’s your boyfriend or Eddie the Banished asking. “Tell me.”

He shakes his head like he can’t believe it, hair shaking. “Knew you would. Pretty Princess just needed to be fucked right, mm?” You shudder, tightening around his cock enough that he gasps, “fuckfuckfuck. S’good. It’s so good, honey.”

You breathe a laugh. “Princess, to you.”

“My apologies,” he says, snapping his hips to land heavy against the spot at the back of your pussy. You gasp, legs kicking out against his grip involuntarily only for him to tighten his grip and push them back to where he wants them. You can hear how wet you are, the sound of him moving inside you as loud as the bed springs, as loud as your moans. “Mine now, aren’t you, Princess?” 

You nod easily. “Yes.”

“Gonna give me everything I want from now on, aren’t you?” 

“Yes. Yes-”

“Made it so easy for me. Should have just done this in the beginning, just taken you for myself.”

“Yes. Yes, Eddie.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, head tilting back as his hips speed up. “Fuck, I can’t- Can’t get enough of that.” When he looks back to you, the detached, mocking look is gone. He’s all intensity and warmth, your Eddie again. Your whole body tightens. “Tells me everything I need to know when you say my name like that.” He gives you a mean thrust, tongue peeking out as he watches where you’re connected, the slick coating his cock, before his gaze returns to your pleasured, sweaty face. “You’re so fucking good, you know that? So fucking good, the way you talk to me. Telling me what you want. Not gonna hide anything like that from me again, are you?”

“Nuh,” you manage, legs twitching. “Eddie.” 

”Again,” he gasps. “Please. My sweet girl-”

“Eddie. Eddie-”

Maybe you keep chanting his name, maybe you cry it out, maybe you stop altogether to scream out instead. You don’t know. You just know he’s all you’re thinking of as the pleasure crests, spreading out from the back of your cunt through your body until it’s intense enough you think you might cry. Then it fades to the gentle delight of Eddie still moving inside you, the warmth and weight of his cock when he buries himself deep. You hear him groan, feel the potential for bruises blooming where his fingers dig into your thighs. Then it’s his weight easing down on top of you, the ache in your shoulders and your legs as you let them relax before wrapping yourself around him.

You finally get your hands in his hair. The roots are damp from sweat, his curls tangled in knots. Eddie’s face is pressed so fully to the space between your breasts that you’re not convinced he can be breathing. He mumbles something that’s lost to your ears, then tilts his head up till you can see his face, and his goofy smile. Your heart aches even as you giggle. Then he’s crawling up your body to kiss you, his mouth warm and tasting like the sweat from his upper lip. 

“I’m gonna pull out now but I want it known that it’ll take amazing strength of will on my part.” 

He does so, disappearing from the bed for less than five seconds to throw out the condom before flopping next to you again and opening his arms to let you clamber into his hold again, you try to fight the rising worries by pressing your face into his neck. He hisses at the scrape of the plastic tiara under his chin, taking it off himself before returning to stroke at your temple with his fingers.  “How do you feel, sweet girl?”

It takes you a minute to answer, sorting through all the complicated feelings that emerged the second Eddie wasn’t inside you anymore. “Good,” you murmur. Then, “weird.” 

You hate how fast it all happens so soon after something so special. You feel overwhelmed and tired, like you want to scrub yourself raw under hot water, like you want to curl up in Eddie’s arms and smell like him forever. You feel like you don’t want to ever be touched again, but the thought that Eddie won’t makes your heart sore. You wish you were normal. You wish you didn’t have weird fantasies. You wish you didn’t feel guilty about what you want. 

Eddie holds you tight against him, and you let yourself feel the comfort of that. Eddie doesn’t think you’re weird, or gross, or immoral. Eddie won’t ever leave you alone to cry and scratch at your crawling skin. 

He presses his lips to your forehead, mumbles against your skin. “Gonna let me look after you?”

He keeps you with him while he runs a bath. You’re wrapped in a towel while he runs around naked, giving you mock coquettish looks over his shoulder every now and then until he gets a giggle from you. As steam starts to rise from the tub, he searches through the cabinet under the sink before emerging with a bottle filled with suspiciously bright orange liquid. “We don’t have bubble bath but, uh, this is six-in-one.” 

You try sitting in the water together, wrapped up in him, but the pins and needles come too fast, eight limbs not quite fitting as they should. You end up facing him, legs tucked up to your chest, watching the water drip from dark ends of his hair. 

“Not as romantic as I’d hoped,” he says.

“It’s okay. I like looking at you.”

His dimples show. Sweetest boy on Earth. He splashes at you a little, waiting for you to smile before talking. “Feeling better?” 

“Much,” you answer honestly. Somewhere between giggling at Eddie rushing to his bedroom to fetch towels for you both, a hair tie for you, with his hands covering the crack of his ass while leaving his dick uncovered and him quietly insisting on taking the side of the tub with the tap at his back, the grey cloud hanging over you faded. “Cause of you,” you say, splashing him back. 

Eddie smiles, resting his face against his knee. “Is there anything I can do, you know, to make it better, like, before it happens?” He reaches for your hand in the water. “Cause it hasn’t, in a while. I know that this was, like, different, but if I did something-”

“No,” you interrupt. “It wasn’t you.” Eddie lets that sit for a while, waiting for you to continue. “When it’s just me and you, it’s like-” You swallow. “Sometimes I feel like I’m being really, actually myself for the first time in my whole life.” Eddie’s eyes are so soft, looking at you now. “And I know that you won’t ever judge me for…my fantasies, or whatever. But then it’s like, it’s almost like- Like without even wanting to, I imagine what other people would say, if they knew the stuff I told you. If they saw how I am, when it’s just us. And then I just feel like, even though they’re not there, it’s ruined it.”

Eddie squeezes your hand, sighs with his whole body. “That sounds exhausting.”

Tears prick in your eyes even as you laugh without real mirth. “It is.”

“Well, you know this stuff really is always going to be just me and you. Right?” 

“I know, Eddie.”

“I wish I could fix it for you, sweet thing.”

You close your eyes tight, trying to force back the tears. You swallow the lump in your throat, thinking, me too. Instead, you sigh, remind yourself that however hard it is now, you’re sure it used to be worse. Before you had Eddie and his humour, his touch, his kindness. “You make it better, Eddie. I promise.”

He’s perfectly gentle with you the rest of the evening, curling back up with you on the couch when you’re dry to restart Theatre of Blood. You let yourself sink into his chest, playing with his rings. You are just about engrossed in the story again, watching with sick fascination as the first critic is stabbed like Julius Caesar. Then, a thought suddenly occurs.

“Did…did you say the soap was six-in-one?”

“Sure did,” Eddie answers. “Face, body, hair, laundry, pets and dishes.”

“That’s why it smells like the terrier next door.”

Eddie hums, lifts your hand to his face and sniffs. “You mean that’s why we smell like the terrier next door.”

[thornsnvultures]

clumsy boy

eddie munson x plus size!fem!reader

summary: Eddie's in love with the cute alt-girl that works at the local hobby shop.

cw: fluff, pathetic eddie is my favorite, r calls eddie a "good boy", sub!eddie

a/n: no one asked for this and I should be working on like three other things but 🤷‍♀️ oh well lol

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Eddie needs to find a new hobby shop to get his mini figs from if he intends on living past thirty. Every time he walks through those doors he makes a goddamn fool of himself because of you and one of these days he's going to die from sheer embarrassment.

He wished today would be the day he perishes, but no, you're standing there staring at him and the entire display of discounted figurines that somehow got knocked all over the floor. Eddie knows he's beet red, stammering like an idiot while you look at him with a face that can't choose between laughing, incredulity and possibly, hopefully sympathy.

"Need help finding anything?" The teasing tone in your voice makes Eddie blush harder. Jesus he's an idiot.

"N-no. Sorry I didn't- I mean I did but it was an accident," Eddie drops to his knees, picking up the mess of boxes strewn under the table of marked down paraphernalia.

"It's okay, dude. Happens all the time," you smile at him when he hands you each box. It's not butterflies in his stomach but dragons. They're either breathing fire or he has indigestion, either way his stomach rolls nervously every time you look at him.

"I doubt this happens every time," Eddie tries joking, picking up the last box as he stands up and hands it to you.

"Only when you're here. I was trying to be nice." The way you lick your black lipstick covered lips and let your hand linger on his does feel pretty nice. So nice, the nicest girl he's ever met.

"Thanks for your help..."

"Eddie. I'm Eddie," he tries a smile that he hopes doesn't look as erratic as he feels, his heart hammering wildly in his chest. This is the most you've spoken to him outside of saying your customary "Hello" when he enters the store and telling him his total at the register. Your slight, smirking smile back tells him he might've not been successful but he doesn't care. He'll keep looking like a dumbass if you keep smiling at him.

"Thanks, Eddie." You start to walk back to your post at the register before you stop and turn around. "Try not to knock anything else over, okay? I don't want to have to start charging you for damages every time you come in."

Eddie gulps as you walk back towards him. No, stalk back. Like a lioness and he's your prey. He wants you to eat him alive.

Jesus, Munson. Easy boy.

"And if you're trying to get my attention, you don't need to knock things over to get it."

You poke his chest with one painted black nail and smile at him again. Eddie practically melts into a puddle on the floor, not even bothering to hide the slack-jawed way he watches your hips sway as you walk away.

Eddie manages to find the things he needs between trying to will his boner away and replaying that interaction over and over. At the register, you scan his things, all your attention on doing your job while Eddie tries to remember how normal people breathe.

You hand over his things with a smile and tell him to have a nice day. Eddie trips over his feet looking over his shoulder at you as he leaves because he just can't help himself.

Once he's home, Eddie dumps out his things on his bed and grabs his paints. He's about to throw out the recepit when something catches his eye. It's a number. And a name. Your name. Eddie's heart falls out of his ass. You gave him your number. He should play it cool. Wait a few hours. Maybe a few days. He doesn't want to seem desperate.

Eddie's plugging in your number before he knows what he's doing.

"Hello?"

Fuck, it really is you.

"Hey, uh, it's Eddie. From the hobby shop. I broke all your stuff?" Eddie cringes, banging his head on the wall next to the phone.

"Oh I remember you, Eddie."

Your voice carries through the line and curls around him, warm and soft and he needs to say something before he's breathing into the phone like a creep. But you're way ahead of him.

"I'm glad you called, clumsy boy. I rented a movie but I don't have anyone to watch it with."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, it's a real scary one too. Wanna come over and watch it with me?"

Eddie screams into his fist, thanking whatever otherworldly being has blessed him today.

"Sure, sounds fun," he says, cringing again at the way his voice cracks when he says "fun".

He can practically hear your smile over the phone as you give him your address, Eddie frantically writing it down in his nearly illegible handwriting on the edge of a takeout menu.

"See you soon, Eddie," you say before hanging up. Eddie clutches the menu to his chest and grabs his keys before floating out to his van.

Years later when you and Eddie own your own hobby shop, running games of D&D for local kids and selling comics and mini fics to your fellow freaks, Eddie asks you why you took a chance on a goof like him all those years ago.

"You really want to know, Munson," you tease as you run your fingers through his curls, sitting on the couch with him for your weekly scary movie night.

"I do," he smiles up at you from your lap. "I was pathetically in love with you, y'know?"

"Oh I knew," you laugh. "I saw you watching me every time you came in. You never hid it well."

"Pfft. I was a master of stealth."

"You failed every stealth roll, baby, don't lie."

"Then what?" Eddie huffs, crossing his arms.

"You, silly. The way you looked on your knees that day I gave you my number. All cute and flushed. I knew you'd be a good boy for me."

Eddie groans and rolls onto his side to bury his face in your soft tummy. "You're the worst."

"I'm right, though aren't I," you cackle at the way his face flushes, still in love with teasing him after all these years.

"You are, you terrible minx," Eddie looks up at you again and smiles, takes your face in his hand. "But I'm still desperately in love with you."

"Me too, clumsy boy. Me too."

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🖤

[sageispunk]

Might Be (18+)

author's note: okay this is my first time doing headcannons ngl just freestyling, don't judge me pls <3 (pic from pinterest)

🍃 Dealer Richie Jerimovich x reader HC (?)

warnings: 18+ minors dni!!! talk of drugs (🍃), paraphernalia, age gap (reader is around 22-24, richie is in 40s), richie is kind of a shitty texter but its ok, reader is said to be about a foot shorter than richie (i see him as like 6'5 tbh), nervous richie, sort of shy reader, allusion to smoking, dirty dream/dirty talk from dream richie, petnames 'mama' and 'baby' are used, proofread a couple times but prob not enough (sorry for any errors), there will probably be more of these!, title is based on the Anderson paak song :)

You met Richie shortly after you moved to Chicago to complete your masters

You stole his number from a native fling who’d bought from Richie plenty of times

When you first texted, he thought you were a narc

is this richie?

--read 9:17pm

30 minutes later… hello?

Whos asking

friend of tyler amato? he said you were his guy

Wat do u need

just 🍃

Send ur address

(mind you, minimum wait time for a richie text response is 10-15min)

He waited for you outside your apartment, expecting a guy and half expecting it to be a rat

When you came out, he was still looking at his phone, but you walked over, his name falling from your lips much softer than he expected

You’d never met Richie when Tyler picked up, but he always said he was a tall guy--you weren’t expecting him to be a whole foot taller than you though

“Tyler’s friend?” You nodded, trying not to stare too hard at his icy blue eyes as they scanned across your body, more observational than sexual

Normally, you would've tried to hide some part of yourself when you noticed you’re being looked at so closely, but you felt oddly comfortable

That, plus you were just wearing a hoodie and a pair a leggings with some fuzzy slippers so there wasn't much to hide

You observed him too, his lanky form and how it towered over your own, and the way his eyebrows seemed to be stuck in a state of confusion–furrowed and wrinkled– and the way he only wore a matching black adidas tracksuit in the 40 degree weather

You quickly swapped the cash and paraphernalia, shaking your head ‘no’ when he asked if you needed any wraps

“Nope, ‘ve got my piece upstairs”

You said a quick thanks, trying not to be too awkward (you’ve never really had to buy your own stuff before)

“Hey! Um, never got your name before..”

He sounded nervous, it made you smirk a little

You told him your name and he nodded, repeating it back to you as you stood there, mid-turn and eye contact strong

It seemed like he had something else to say, so you lingered for half a second, and then his phone began to ring

“Gotta..” He held the phone up for a quick second

“See ya.” You cut him off, nodding and turning back around into your building

That night, you got really h1gh with your roomie, giggling about the hot older guys on your favorite drama show

Later on, you dreamt about the one you just met earlier that night, his pretty blue eyes on yours as he spoke, talking you through it

“Just like that, mama…. c’mon baby give it t’me..”