#Technically before the poem even starts
Text
the coward's way out
if the fates conspire
that only one of us may live,
then lover,
it must be you.
i will save you the grand speeches
about how you are good and deserving.
you are. you are. you are,
but in the end, that is not the reason why.
the world may call me brave
or strong
or selfless
but lover, you know the truth
don't you?
in the end, i am only more afraid
of facing a world without you
than i am of facing death
of facing anything.
in the end, i am only too weak
to be the one left behind
to pick up the pieces of a broken life
a broken promise
a broken heart
and keep on bleeding
when the blood in your heart
is already dry.
i'm sorry. i'm sorry.
but will you let me be selfish
one last time?
can i ask you to live
for me?
to face what i feared most
so that i might find peace
in my eternal sleep
with a smile upon my face?
if it is cruel of me to ask,
then i beg you to forgive me.
or curse my name
and hate me if you must,
only live.
only live, my lover
so that my life and my death
and all that came in between
may mean something.
may mean everything.
#spilled ink#poets on tumblr#poems on tumblr#writeblr#writers on tumblr#poetics#sometimes i write like some kind of possession#i had a brief thought of 'sacrifice as a selfish act?'#and then i was just like. speaking this poem to myself#out of the blue#i fixed some things from the first spoken draft obviously but#the rhythm of this feels important to me#and i'm not convinced i did the best job of linebreaking it#but it will do#The coward’s way out#why yes I did update the title a week later#this feels much cleaner#not giving away the thesis in literally the first word#Technically before the poem even starts
363 notes
·
View notes
Text
Howdy folks. I’ve said I’d make a rant about this for a while. It’s time.
Let’s start with the basics. Mesopomatia is the earliest known human civilization. Humans existed before them, but this was the first “city”. They also made the first writing. This rant also kinda covers Sumerian tuff, because the two groups had a bit of a merging.
You know what transgenderism is. You’re on tumblr dot com. Chances are you are a transgenderist yourself
Transphobes often say that transgenderism is a “new concept” and that “nobody was trans 20 years ago”. For the record, you don’t have to go as far back as Mesopotamia. There’s Greece, Egypt, Hawaii, and tons of others I fail to remember. But yeah, we date back to The First City.
The First People believed in many gods, one of which you’ve likely heard of. Today’s subject: Inanna/Ishtar, The Queen of Heaven (I’ll be calling her Inanna, as it’s her original name). She was the goddess of Sex, War, and Justice. The most notable things she was believed to do were changing people’s genders and being an absolute queen. Like fr she slayed-
Anyways, the “transgender power” as I’m gonna call it because it's funny, is well documented in poetry fragments, with the direct quote “To turn a man into a woman and a woman into a man are yours, Inanna.” This was written by Enheduanna, Inanna’s High Priestess from Ur (Ur is a city).
Speaking of Inanna’s Priests and Priestesses, they were actually known for their androgyny. Poems and Dedications to Inanna often included them, with the direct depiction of the goddess transfer-ify-ing them. It’s unknown if these and the Gala are the same priests, so I’ll add a little space and talk about them for a bit.
The Gala were priestesses for Inanna created by the god Enki (who is really fuckign cool for non-trans reasons (might talk about him sometime)) to sing for her. Mourning Rites previously sung by women got taken over by the Gala, and as men joined, they adopted ALL societal roles and expectations of women, switching to female names and singing in the Sumerian eme-sal dialect, which was reserved for women trying to render the speech of female gods. The Gala looked after the sick and poor, and were highly respected by the rest of the Mesopotamian peoples.
Time to talk about the Pilipili! They were a group of cultic performers who worshiped Inanna, with the name coming from a person named Pilipili. They were raised as a woman (according to Mesopotamia’s gender roles), and were blessed by Inanna and given the name Pilipili. Inanna gave them a spear, an item associated very heavily with masculinity “as if she were a man” and they are only referred to as “The Transformed Pilipili” from that point on. “Spear'' is also thought to have phallic meaning here, which is even more directly saying that Inanna trans’ed Pilipili’s gender.
How about we move beyond the cult on Inanna now? A statue (or technically statuette but honestly whatever) found in the city of Mari depicts a singing woman. But wait! The name of the depicted person is “Ur-Nanshe”, a masculine name! This might mean nothing, but honestly, you’d assume transgenderism too if you met a woman named Steven. The statue has a soft face with traces of makeup, and it’s got tiddies!
A statue in the British museum (which for the record should not be in there. give it back) has a label translated as “Hermaphrodite of Inanna”. Hermaphrodite has a different meaning now, which a different translator, Cheryl Morgan, recognized, stating that “person-man-woman” would be more accurate. We don’t know specifics about their gender, but clearly this was a person outside of the gender binary who was not only significant enough to have a statue of them made, but also assumedly well-liked!
So, to summarize, Ancient Mesopotamia viewed genderqueer individuals as:
often blessed by the Queen of Heaven
transgender-ify-ed by said Queen of Heaven
well respected enough to be priests
said cult of trans priests was also said to be made by another god in devotion to Inanna
significant and well-liked enough to have statues of them
sounds like we should take some notes from our ancestors, huh?
#transgender#nonbinary#genderqueer#transphobes can suck it!!!!!!#mesopotamia#history#queer history#lgbt history#trans history#reblogs appreciated
704 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dog Days
Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader
Summary: The help you need to confess to your crush winds up coming from an incredibly unlikely (and furry) source.
Warnings: ooc!wednesday, hints of bad poetry lol, bad writing, this is another very unserious story
Word count: 3.3k
Notes: the poetry part of this request kicked my ass and you can tell LMFAO. sorry it took so long (and sorry it kinda sucks), but i hope you guys enjoy!
Masterlist | Bonus
Confessing your feelings to someone you like was one of the most profound plights a person could ever face, you’ve decided.
Because to you, right now, there was no greater challenge to overcome, no finer show of courage than to look her in the eye and profess the nebulous depths of your infatuation without keeling over midsentence.
And this anxiety would be easier to conquer if the girl you had caught feelings for was a normie, or really any other outcast housed within Nevermore’s four walls.
But your crush was Wednesday Addams, and that more than justified the intense fear that came with the possibility of confessing.
For the past semester, Wednesday had been assigned to sit at your table in Botany, meaning that you two were almost always lab and project partners in that class. Throughout that time, she wasn’t exactly nice to you, but you’ve yet to be on the receiving end of her notoriously colorful threats, so you figured that put you somewhere friend-adjacent on the small girl’s relationship scale.
That made trying to confess to her no easier, however. Because she could literally just kill you if she decided it wasn’t good enough. If she decided you weren’t good enough.
You hoped knew she wouldn’t considering your short but cordial history, but she technically could.
Now despite her reputation (and the previously outlined possibility of murder), Wednesday never scared you. She certainly tried. You’d lost count of how many grisly medieval torture facts she offered up while working together, but they never had the intended effect of instilling fear into you. Not even once. The absurdity of it made you laugh more often than not.
But, while she didn’t scare you, she did intimidate you. Even now, months and a fully developed crush later, she could render you speechless with a single look.
That immediately did away with the possibility of a verbal confession since you were sure your vocal cords would cease operation before you could even properly start, leaving you staring at her like an idiot. So you were left to figure out another way. And after days of careful deliberation, you decided upon the vessel with which you would confess your feelings.
A poem.
Yes, it was stupid and cliché, but it was something you were familiar with, and you figured Wednesday might have at least some appreciation for it considering she herself was an aspiring writer. But very soon, you came face to face with a problem.
Wednesday herself constantly strived for perfection in every facet of life, so you knew that if anyone were to attempt to court her, she would be expecting no less from them as well.
Everything about this poem—diction, rhythm, rhyme, form—had to be superlative, efficient while effectively flawless.
It needed to be perfect and you just…couldn’t get it there.
Attempt after attempt wound up in your garbage, the papers overflowing out of the small pail by your desk while your hope slowly diminished with each failure. After the 27th trashed page, you knew you needed to stop and recoup.
This approach obviously wasn’t working, so you had to find a different one and to do that, you needed incentive. You needed inspiration. You needed the creative ascension that came with reading good, fresh poetry.
The only issue was that all of your poetry collections were well-worn, memorized from cover to cover. Though you could never tire of them, you knew they wouldn’t provide the spark of creativity you needed.
So you took a trip to the small bookstore in Jericho since the school library had very little in the way of poetry and picked up a few that caught your eye.
You were on your way to catch the shuttle back when you heard it.
A high-pitched yip rose from the alley you had just walked past, making you pause. Curious (and without much else to do), you stepped back to peer into the alley, and you let out a gasp.
Just down the alleyway was a small puppy, covered head to toe in gorgeous gold fur. A golden retriever, your mind helpfully supplied. He didn’t notice you, entirely too preoccupied tearing up an old newspaper to care about your gawking, but you were entranced.
And without your usual forms of impulse control (your teachers and parents) there with you, your mind was made up in an instant.
A twenty-minute trip to the local pet store saw you ready to leave town a few hundred dollars lighter and many bags heavier. You got all the essentials—food, toys, a collar and a leash, a bed, bowls, and whatnot.
All that was left was getting the dog.
Quietly approaching, you set your bags down against the mouth of the alleyway and crept closer to the puppy, careful not to startle him as he stalked a bug of some sort. Once you were within a few feet, you crouched and tore open one of the treat bags you bought. The noise got the retriever’s attention, and he stopped his pursuit to watch you, intrigued.
A soft smile made its way onto your face while you fished a treat out and held it out. It took no time at all for the pup to curiously trot over. He sniffed it for a moment, thoroughly inspecting the cookie before devouring it and looking back up at you expectantly, tail wagging furiously in the air behind him.
With a laugh, you offered him another one, then another, and another. And just like that, a friendship was formed.
The driver barely gave you a second glance when you waltzed into the shuttle with your bags and the dog, just waited for you to be seated and pulled off onto the main road. Definitely not protocol, but you imagined he wasn’t being paid nearly enough to care.
When Nevermore’s castle-like features came into view ten minutes later, you realized with a jolt that there was one thing you hadn’t accounted for: actually trying to smuggle this puppy into the school.
Given that the shuttle was already parked, you had no time for strategy. As you stepped back onto campus, your only plan was to make a mad dash for your dorm. And, after tucking the puppy inside your shirt, that’s exactly what you did. Or tried to do. You only got halfway through your journey when Yoko intercepted you in one of the halls.
“Hey! I see someone went shopping today,” she commented, giving the plethora of bags you were holding a humorous look. “Preparing for a zombie outbreak or something?”
“Something like that,” you answered, taking a step around her, but she moved with you and started matching your hurried strides.
“So, you ready for that Vampire Anatomy test tomorrow? Personally, I think I’m gonna ace it,” she smiled, fangs flashing in the overhead light. You shot her a look, because, of course, a vampire would ace that test.
You opened your mouth, a scathing retort on the tip of your tongue, but the pup chose that moment to show his restlessness, flailing his little limbs violently under the fabric of your shirt.
“Uh,” Yoko slowed at your side, brows drawn above her sunglasses. She pointed at your stomach, where the puppy was violently squirming. “What’s going on there?”
You glanced away, mouth opening and closing. Hard as you tried to come up with a plausible excuse, none came, so you said the first thing that came to mind.
“I’m pregnant.”
Poor Yoko looked positively baffled. You ran before she could say anything else.
The sprint back to your dorm was blessedly uneventful, allowing you to stumble inside with minimal issue. Thankfully, your roommate was out, so you wouldn’t need to deal with any more questions for the time being. You set the puppy down on the floor, letting him explore his new surroundings while you set his things up.
Once his bed, bowls, and toys were in place, your attention turned to another pressing issue. The pup needed a name.
Dozens of names crossed your mind in the minutes that followed, but none of them fit the energetic boy in front of you. Pondering, you watched leisurely as the retriever dragged his new leash across the floor. The sunlight pouring through the window softly bounced off his golden fur while he pranced around your room, leash still securely in his mouth.
A metaphorical light bulb clicked on and in that moment, you gave him the most beautiful, poetic name your mind graced you with.
-
“Choklit!”
The puppy in question froze and looked up at you, short tail wagging dutifully. He was already giving you his best puppy dog eyes, but you knew better than to fall for them. You moved to stand in front of him, hands on your hips.
“We’ve talked about this. Edgar Allen Poe’s collected works are not a chew toy!” You moved the book away from him, held up a blue squeaky toy in its place. “This is what you play with, got it?”
He offered you a yip in response, tail wagging a mile a minute as you handed him the bone-shaped toy. “And remember, play lightly!” you tagged on as he tumbled off his bed.
Principal Weems hesitantly allowed you to keep the puppy on the agreement that your roommate agreed to him (which she did, ecstatically) and that he not be too loud in the room. By some miracle of god, you had been able to abide by that rule for the past two weeks.
Hopefully, your luck would persist.
With him placated, you turned back to the task at hand—finishing your poem. It was coming together, a solid vision of your end goal forming. And after another ten minutes of brainstorming the last line—a woefully overdramatic would you go on a date with me? that hopefully wouldn’t get you killed in your sleep—it was finished.
You pushed back against your desk and leaned your head against the back of your chair, taking a moment to rest. Then, sitting back up, you reread the poem carefully.
A wave of inadequacy crashed into you as you ran back through the words you just wrote. Something about it just wasn’t right, but you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what.
Was the rhythm off? Were the rhymes varied enough? Outside of that, was your prose structured competently? Was the poem too much? Was it not enough? Five rereads only heeded more questions and no answers.
Frustrated, you balled the paper up and threw it behind you, already priming another paper to begin the poem anew.
The telltale pattering of paws reached your ears, turning to find Choklit nosing at the crumbled paper. With a sigh, you walked over and went to pick it up. “Sorry, bud, but my personal failures as a poet are not your toys.”
Choklit, thinking it was a game, quickly snatched the ball up in his mouth and bowed, sending light growls your way. Though you knew it wouldn’t help, you raised your hands in surrender and leaned back.
“I’m not trying to play. I just need that—” You tried to swipe it from his mouth, but he bounced backward and rushed toward the door.
At that exact moment, your roommate returned from choir practice, opening the door just in time for Choklit to run out with the paper in tow. You scrambled to your feet, edging past her into the mostly empty hallway.
“Sorry!” she yelled after you, to which you just waved.
“It’s fine! I got him,” you threw back at her just before you turned a corner in pursuit of the retriever.
You had to admit, the little guy was fast. Faster than you thought he would be (or maybe you just needed to exercise more…who knew). Bewildered students parted for you as you gave chase, giving them a quick thank you! as you kept your eyes on the golden blur ahead.
He toppled down another hallway, one you knew led to a dead end. You grinned and picked up the pace, intent on scooping him up, only to skid to a sudden stop after you turned the corner.
Because there Choklit was, sniffing around at familiar black boots while pale hands smoothed out the paper the puppy dropped before her. You were frozen, trying to figure out whether this was real or some terrible lucid dream.
Wednesday’s cold timbre inadvertently answered your question.
“I didn’t think they allowed dogs on campus,” the girl remarked, giving the puppy at her feet an inquisitive look. Your response came without thinking.
“You live with a werewolf, don’t you?” Your eyes widened. The comment was meant as a joke but could easily be interpreted as an insult. And knowing how close the two had gotten over the past few months, the last thing you wanted to do was accidentally mock Enid.
You watched Wednesday closely, but the only physical response you received was the slightest raise of her brows.
“That was almost funny.” Her words were delivered with her trademark deadpan stare, but you could hear the slightest hint of humor threaded into her neutral tone. Looking for attention, Choklit stood on his hind legs and pawed at Wednesday’s shin, giving her a clear view of the tag on his collar. The disapproval in her voice was clear as day. “You named it…Choklit?”
You gave a half-hearted shrug, pulling out a grin full of confidence you absolutely did not feel. “Can’t be a literary genius all the time.”
“I’m sure,” she retorted sarcastically, holding your unsure gaze for another moment before turning back to the paper in her hand. You followed her eyes and stepped forward with a grimace.
“Sorry, that’s… you weren’t supposed to see that.” You tried to take the paper, but Wednesday stepped back, moving the paper out of your reach.
“It’s addressed to me.”
“That it is,” you conceded with a sigh, “but it was never intended to actually be delivered to you.”
Wednesday hummed. “Well, it seems your dog disagrees.” With that, she turned her attention to the poem. You were tempted to try and take it again, but you liked having your hand attached to your body, so you resisted.
Impatiently, you waited as her eyes ran along the lines slowly, your anxiousness building with every passing moment of excruciating silence until finally, she met your gaze once more.
“A few things to note,” she began, tone much too studious for the occasion. “I applaud the fact that you made the decision not to write a sonnet. They’re easily the most overblown, abominable form of poetry and I would have had to burn this if it was.”
She gave you a small nod. “Now, I will say that I’m a bit disappointed. This certainly could have been written in perfect rhyme rather than end rhyme, but since you said this wasn’t your final draft, I’m willing to give you a pass for this oversight. Mostly. And while AABB isn’t the most complex rhyme scheme, it’s just tolerable enough here to not detract from the poem as a whole.”
You gaped. She was making the same type of comments that your teachers would when they graded your assignments. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think she was reading off the notes from a book report and not talking about a literal love confession.
The ridiculousness of the situation pulled a wry laugh from your throat, but you were quickly silenced with a harsh glare. Once you quieted, she continued, “The biggest problem I see is that this poem is lacking in length, having only a measly 12 lines. A few more couplets would have made this feel more complete.”
“Now onto the poem itself. Though your vernacular pales in comparison to mine, I will admit that your vocabulary is surprisingly expansive considering what you named your pet.” She sent Choklit a pointed look. “Furthermore, I appreciate the use of alliteration in lines like ‘A mind molded by misery and mischief’ and ‘Down into the dark depths of a dreadfully early grave’ but feel it could’ve been utilized more throughout. The mixture of masculine and feminine rhyme is interesting, though choosing one could have aided with overall cohesion.”
You just stood and stared, silently taking in her thoughts and critiques because it was all you could do. She paused, folded the paper neatly in her hand, but still didn’t give it back to you.
“In conclusion, parts of this are noticeably undercooked, but the simple act of reading it doesn’t make me want to purge my insides. I acknowledge the effort you put forth to tailor this poem to me and my interests and will admit that being described as ‘the purest of darkness personified’ is almost flattering.”
A nervous chuckle escaped before you could quell it, but this time she allowed it, her stare remaining blank. You cleared your throat, injected some joviality into your tone. “Great, so uh…do I get an A+?”
“B-, actually,” she amended, running over the folded page with her eyes. “Maybe even a C+.”
At that point, you swore you could feel the humiliation seeping into the very essence of your being. But you were determined not to let it show, to preserve what tiny amount of dignity you had left.
“Okay, well, I’m just gonna take that back and then go vanish off the face of the Earth so we never have to see each other again.” You gave her a pained smile and reached for the paper, only for her to snatch it out of your reach with a glare.
She glanced down to Choklit, who was seemingly enjoying the drama as his eyes ping-ponged between you two, then to the paper again. Another long moment passed before she looked back at you.
“I never said no.”
You blinked a few times, confused. “What?”
“The proposition outlined at the end of the poem,” she clarified, “I never said no.”
“You…” you began to repeat but trailed off as the realization of what she was implying really began to sink in. “Wait, I—you…you can’t possibly mean…”
Growing visibly impatient, Wednesday cut off your verbal meltdown. “Meet me outside the school gates after light’s out this Saturday. I get to pick the activity.”
The unsettling smile she gave you felt like a bad omen, but you couldn’t care less, still fighting off the incredulity clouding your mind. You opened your mouth to respond but when no words came, you settled for a hurried nod.
“Good,” Wednesday peered out the window momentarily. “Now, I must be going. Eugene is expecting me. I will see you Saturday and if you’re late then you’ll be the next autopsy I perform.”
Carefully, she stepped around your puppy and walked off without another word, leaving you to ponder what the hell just happened.
“Oh my god,” you whispered to no one in particular. Again, louder this time, “Oh my god!” At the sound of your excitement, Choklit came scampering over and you bent down to meet him. He stood on his hind legs, bracing his front paws on your knee. “Did you hear that, boy? The poem actually worked!”
He gave you a yip in return, tiny tail a blur behind him. You rubbed your hand along his back, chuckling at the fervent licks your hands received in return.
Only after a student skirted past you both did you realize that you were still in the middle of a hall. You promptly scooped Choklit up with both hands and cradled him by your chest, looking down at him as you began your way back to your dorm.
“Come on, let’s go get some treats. I owe you big time, buddy.”
#you guys would not BELIEVE the amount of googling i did for this fic lmao#wednesday#wednesday addams#wednesday addams x reader#wednesday addams x female reader#wednesday addams x you#wednesday addams imagine#jenna ortega#i have a newfound respect for poets#because even writing up a trash mock poem for this fic was HARD#listen if you see any incorrectly used terms please look away
737 notes
·
View notes
Text
tell me we'll never get used to it
Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader; Eddie Munson/You
Summary: Sequel to "i can't carry it for you, but i can carry you," but this one can technically be read as a standalone.
Set a few weeks after the finale, you and Eddie are finally healed enough from your ordeals to have sex. You both get a little stoned on California weed, and then Eddie confesses to you that not only is he a virgin, he's also self-conscious of the scars the demo-bats gave him. So you seek to reassure him, remind him how much you love him, with both your words and your body.
Rating: E(xplicit). Minors DNI
Warnings: smoking/shotgunning weed, smut, virgin!eddie munson, loss of virginity, oral sex (f/m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, creampie, praise kink, dirty talk, pet names, riding, scars, self-confidence issues
A/N: I started this fic with the intention of making something quick and smutty, and then it turned into... this. And this fic stems from my deep seated belief that Eddie Munson deserves to get really high and have really tender loving sex, and since the Duffers are cowards, I did it myself. Also, as much as I love bad boy, sex-god Eddie, I just head cannon Eddie Munson as a virgin because come on, lol, he's a DnD nerd who plays in a "weird" band, sells drugs, and failed senior year twice. I love him with all my heart, but the boy has never gotten his dick wet lmao
(And, yes, I took the title from a Richard Siken poem, sue me)
Ao3 Link: Here
“‘Kay, kids, I think it’s time to pack it in,” Steve said as he stood up and clapped his hands.
“What?!” Mike, Lucas, Dustin, and Will protested in unison, snapping their heads up from where they were crowded around your long coffee table.
“We’ve barely even started,” Mike argued as his eyebrows furrowed sharply.
“Yeah, the sun hasn’t even set yet,” Dustin added, stabbing an accusatory finger at where the fading orange sunlight was filtering in through the living room window. “We’ve got like, at least thirty, thirty-five minutes before we need to leave.”
“But we’ve been playing for hours,” Robin groaned as she flopped over on the couch, into the space Steve had just vacated. “I’m bored.”
“You’re only bored because you died,” Dustin shot back. “By tripping off a cliff, I might add, which I’m still not sure how you did that…”
“And this is nothing,” Nancy scoffed from beside Robin. “Mike once ran a marathon forty-eight hour session in our basement, starting Friday and going all through the weekend. That room smelled disgusting by Sunday night.”
“Shut. Up. Nancy!” Mike was sitting cross-legged on the floor, and he turned and scowled at his sister over his shoulder. He was blushing, and when El giggled from where she was leaning against Mike’s opposite shoulder, he only blushed harder.
“Only telling the truth,” Nancy said as she raised her hands.
“I believe you,” Steve muttered and then ducked when Dustin threw a six-sided die at him. “Hey! That’s it! Party’s over. It’s past your bedtimes, so pack up all your little toys and dolls.”
“Hey, no need to disrespect the game, Harrington,” Eddie said from behind you.
He was sitting in the recliner your mom’s boyfriend bought only a few months ago, and he looked every inch like a king on his throne when you glanced up at him from where you were sitting— also cross-legged —between his feet. Since he’d been discharged from the hospital, he hadn’t let you leave his side, and he always had to be touching you, not that you were complaining. Right now, both of his legs were pressed against the outside of your arms, and one of his hands was idly playing with your hair.
“I have respect for the game,” Steve huffed with his hands on his hips, like a disgruntled mother. “But like Robin said, it’s been hours, and you know Agent Mustache gets pissed when we’re not back in our homes by sunset.”
All at once, the teasing atmosphere in your living room evaporated, and you watched as everyone’s smiles slowly faded.
It had been three weeks since everything went to shit. Three weeks since Hawkins was split in half by the Upside Down’s gates. In those three weeks, a lot had changed. For one, Hawkins felt like a ghost town now. Most people had either fled or been evacuated. But there were still a few hold outs: a couple of simply stubborn people who didn’t like being told what to do, a handful of others who just had nowhere else to go, and some old men and women who’d been born in Hawkins and planned to die there, too.
And, of course, the families of the kids in this room. El had needed to stay to deal with the gates, and Mike of course wasn’t leaving her, which meant neither were Dustin, Lucas, and Will. Steve, Nancy, and Robin felt like they needed to protect the kids, and you and Eddie had already given a pound of flesh to the cause, so what was a little more?
The government hadn’t been too happy with the number of liabilities left on their hands, but Mike pointed out that he and his friends had already broken into a secret lab and a Russian spy operation, so slipping back into Hawkins would have been child’s play. The government just gave up trying to make them leave after that.
Instead, they’d instated a curfew. A heavily enforced curfew. Soldiers armed with flamethrowers roamed the barren and broken streets of Hawkins at all times, but at night the patrols doubled, bright headlights sweeping the darkness for anything that moved.
Surprisingly, nothing had happened yet. In fact, it had been relatively quiet. The gates were still a ghostly specter that haunted the town, spewing forth ash and killing all plant life within a certain radius. But nothing else had come through the portals. No demo-dogs, or bats, no Demogorgons, nothing. El and Will said it felt like Vecna was biding his time, licking his wounds, preparing for his next big move, so everyone was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.
But there were only so many strategy meetings a group of teens could sit through, only so much prep and training they could do. Sometimes, everyone just needed a break, a few hours to not think about monsters, or the world ending, or the fact that Max still hadn’t woken up, no matter how hard El tried to reach her.
And that’s where Eddie Munson came in. Eddie, with his infectious smile and enthusiasm, his elaborate storytelling skills that ensnared his audience and made the real world just fall away. Everyone had become an honorary member of the Hellfire Club, even Steve “the Hair” Harrington. Not everyone was particularly good, but it was a fun way to pass the time, a nice reprieve from all the life-and-death situations this group somehow always found themselves in.
But now, reality had come calling once again.
“Ugh, way to kill the mood, Steve,” Dustin sighed, breaking the morose silence as he flopped back onto the carpeted floor.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m the bad guy.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Blame me all you want, but we still gotta get going.”
The kids all grumbled as they started packing up, and as if on cue, Jonathan suddenly came stumbling in through the back door off the kitchen, coughing and watery-eyed. He’d excused himself about half an hour ago, and it wasn’t hard to tell what he’d been doing on your back porch.
“Hey, guys are we, uh, heading out soon?” he drawled. “Sun’s setting.”
He blinked slowly at everyone, and you saw Will roll his eyes, which made Mike, Lucas, and Dustin stifle snorts. Then Dustin got this mischievous look you knew too well, and he turned to Jonathan with a startled expression.
“What are you talking about, dude?” the kid asked. “We’ve been here all night, that’s the sunrise.”
Jonathan balked and snapped his head toward the window, which caused the whole room to break out in laughter. Blushing, the older Byers rubbed the back of his head, and Nancy smiled as she walked over, placed her hand on his arm, and murmured something to him in a reassuring cadence.
You didn’t know what was going on with Nancy and her so-called boyfriend, especially with the way Steve was staring at the pair of them, but you were a professional at minding your own damn business, so you turned away from them, craned your neck back, and looked up at Eddie behind you.
“That was a good session, Munson,” you said, smiling up at him as you leaned your temple against his knee.
“I know.” He smirked, but then he narrowed his eyes at you. “Wait, why do you sound surprised? All of my sessions are good sessions, Obi. You might be a Jedi Master, but I am the Dungeon Master.”
Even after all this time, that stupid nickname he gave you made butterflies erupt in your belly.
“Of course.” You nodded, making sure you face was very serious. “You are the Dungeon Master to end all Dungeon Masters. No one can hold a candle to your genius.”
“That’s more like it,” Eddie said with a pleased expression, and he wrapped a lock of your hair around his finger. His eyes were dark and deep as he stared down at you, but his touch was soft when his thumb brushed the side of your face.
You leaned into his hand with a sigh, but the moment was abruptly broken by Dustin making a gagging noise.
“Ugh, get a room you two,” he groaned.
You whipped your head around and raised an eyebrow at him.
“Um, this is my house, Henderson,” you reminded him. “And didn’t your babysitter say it was time to go, anyway?”
Dustin made an affronted noise, and you laughed as you stood up and stretched your back. But before you could move to help pick up some of the various snack bowls scattered around the living room floor, two hands suddenly snaked around your waist, tugging you backward.
“Munson!” you gasped as you fell into his lap, the chair rocking back from your added weight. You turned your head to chide him, but then Eddie seized your lips, one of his hands coming up to cup the back of your head.
Instantly, the living room, your friends, and the rest of the world faded around you. Eddie had this… magnetism about him or something. Every time he looked at you, touched you, especially kissed you, it was like nothing else existed except the two of you. Now wasn’t any different, and you sighed as you opened your mouth to his probing tongue.
But all too soon, he pulled away, and when your eyes fluttered open, he was smirking.
“Okay, yup, time to go,” you distantly heard Steve mutter, followed by a chorus of agreements.
“Heh, worked like a charm,” Eddie whispered in your ear, and you knew he was just joking around, but his warm breath brushing your skin made you shiver.
You didn’t want to completely embarrass yourself in front of your friends, though, so you shook your head to clear it, pushed yourself off Eddie’s lap, and walked everyone to the door. The sun was just starting to dip below the tree line, and you could see a government Jeep roll by the end of the street, but everyone lived pretty close, so they should able to beat curfew.
Nancy and Mike climbed into Nancy’s car to head back to the Wheelers’, and Steve was practically the designated carpool, so he was dropping off Robin, Lucas, and Dustin. Jonathan was taking Will and El back to the combined Hopper-Byers residence, and even though his eyes were still bloodshot, you knew Jonathan was a cautious driver and would get them all home.
Maybe just a little bit slower than everyone else.
You stood on your front porch and waved goodbye until the last car slipped out of sight, and you fought back a yawn as you dropped your arm. Then your eyes trailed to the reddish sky, searching the streaks of black clouds that perpetually hovered over the gates.
It felt so strange to be living a somewhat normal life with the apocalypse hanging over everyone’s neck, but what else were you supposed to do?
“Obiii-wannn.” Eddie’s singsongy voice pulled you from your thoughts, and his arms wrapped around your waist as he tugged you back against his chest. Then he pressed a kiss to your hair and rested his chin on the top of your head. “Penny for your thoughts?”
“All the shit rolling around up here would definitely cost more than a penny,” you snorted and leaned back into him.
“Ah, well, never mind then, cuz I’m broke.”
You laughed as you turned in the circle of his arms, and the lopsided grin you loved so much was beaming down at you. You rose up on your tiptoes to kiss him, but before your lips could meet, the sharp honk of a car horn blared behind you, making you jump.
Glancing over your shoulder, you saw one of the government Jeeps stopped in the middle of the street in front of your house, and the soldier in the passenger seat gave you a pointed look through the open window.
You blushed as you fell back on your heels, but Eddie just wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you against his side.
“Evenin’, gentlemen,” he called out as he put two fingers to his forehead in a jaunty salute. “We were just heading inside. Keep up the good work!”
The soldiers seemed unimpressed with him, but Eddie just snickered as he turned and steered you back into the house.
“Tough crowd,” he said as you shut and locked the door behind you.
Since the town still needed power, and since he was used to the hours, Wayne had continued to work nightshifts— with ample guards, of course— so he wouldn’t be home until after dawn, and he had a copy of the key to let himself in.
“I don’t know why you have to antagonize them,” you sighed, referring to the soldiers, as you turned to your boyfriend.
“Because it’s funnnn.” Eddie grinned, and he reached out to pull you against him again. “And I’ll take all the fun I can get these days.”
You didn’t blame him for that.
Still, you playfully rolled your eyes as you pulled away. Eddie made a whining noise in the back of his throat and grabbed after you, but you batted his hands back.
“Help me pick up first,” you chuckled. “Then you can Velcro yourself to me while I warm up dinner.”
“Nooo, let’s just pick up everything later,” Eddie said with a cajoling grin.
“And let Wayne trip over all this shit in the morning when we inevitably forget and fall asleep?” You raised an eyebrow and gestured to the living room floor, which was still strewn with snacks and the various odds and ends that came with every DnD session.
“Fine,” Eddie pouted, but then he got a mischievous glint in his brown gaze. “That just means you’ll have to wait longer for my surprise.”
You couldn’t help it. Your curiosity was piqued.
“What surprise?” you asked as you narrowed your eyes at him.
“That’s not how surprises work, Obi.” He smirked and wagged a finger at you, spinning on heel. “You’ll just have to wait and see now. Cleaning up comes first after all. It’s so very important.”
You knew that when Eddie got like this, he would tease you to the point of torture. He would pick up one paper, one stray chip at a time just to drag it out until you eventually broke and gave in to his demands.
“I am a hostage living in my own home,” you muttered, bending down to pick up an empty bowl covered in Dorito-dust fingerprints.
“How’s that Stockholm Syndrome treating you, baby?” Eddie asked with a wink, and you turned away from him so he couldn’t see your stupid, dopey smile.
God, you loved him. Even when he was being annoying.
Thankfully, he didn’t seem in the mood to torture you too much tonight, because he helped you pick up relatively quickly. He did distract you several times by brushing up against you on his way to the kitchen, and then twice just to full on kiss you, but eventually the living room floor was no longer a death trap. You’d mostly just stacked the mess in different places— empty bowls on the kitchen counter, and DnD supplies on a living room end table— but at least it wasn’t underfoot anymore.
And it wasn’t like your mom or her boyfriend were here to bitch at you, anyway.
“Alright, Munson,” you said, and you turned to him and placed your hands on your hips. “What’s this surprise?”
“Aw, I think you can ask a little nicer than that, sweetheart,” Eddie teased as he faced you in the middle of your living room. His dark-brown eyes were dancing with a playful delight, and he tapped the fingers of his right hand against his lips, like he was trying to hide his shit-eating grin.
He wasn’t successful.
But two could play this game.
You dropped your arms from your hips and slowly sauntered up to him, closing the distance in three strides. Some of the cockiness went out of his gaze the closer you got, and once you came to a stop in front of him, you slowly wound your arms around his neck, pressing your chest into his. Then you rose up on your tiptoes and brushed your lips against the shell of his ear.
“Pretty please?” you breathed, punctuating the question with a flick of your tongue against his earlobe.
Eddie groaned deep in his chest, and you knew you’d won.
Smirking, you dropped back onto your heels, but Eddie latched his hands onto your hips to keep you from pulling away. When he looked down at you, his eyes were narrowed, and his lips were pressed into a thin line.
“You are evil,” he deadpanned. “Evil Obi. You might have all the others fooled, but I can see the horns holding up your halo.”
You grinned, stuck your tongue out, and lifted your hands up to your head in the symbol for horns, copying a face Eddie had made many times.
It worked like a charm, because the fake-hardness to his expression melted, and he bent down to slant his mouth over yours.
“Is this my surprise?” you giggled against his lips. “Not that I’m complaining, but it isn’t exactly a surprise when you kiss me every five minutes.”
“Five minutes?” Eddie gasped, pulling away from you with wide eyes. “Shit, I’m way off schedule. No way am I gonna make my daily quota now.”
You giggled again and playfully shoved his shoulder. “I’m serious. You have me dying with curiosity now. What’s the surprise?”
“Well, we definitely can’t have you dying,” Eddie said with a smirk, and one of his hands left your hip to dig around the back pocket of his jeans. After a moment of rummaging, he withdrew his hand with a flourish and dangled something in between your faces. “Ta-da!”
You blinked and leaned back a little to bring the object into focus, but the smell hit you before your brain processed what was in the small plastic baggie.
“No way,” you murmured, reaching up for the bag of weed. “Where the hell did you get this?”
The two of you hadn’t smoked anything besides cigarettes in weeks. Eddie had suggested maybe going back out to Rick’s to see if the drug dealer had anything stashed since Rick himself was still in jail, but Lover’s Lake was a hot zone with Watergate being in the center of it, so neither you nor Eddie wanted to take the risk for a little grass.
“I have my ways,” Eddie said as he tugged the bag out of your reach. “A good man never reveals his sources, like a magician never reveals his tricks.”
You raised an eyebrow at him and crossed your arms over your chest, and he caved in less than thirty seconds.
“Alright, twist my arm, damn,” he grumbled. “IIIII might have told Byers— the older one— that my pain levels have been… higher than they actually are, and he was a good enough friend to give me some primo pain management all the way from California.”
“Munson!” you gasped, your tone half scandalized, half amused. “You conned Jonathan out of what is probably the last of his Cali stash?”
“It was for a good cause!”
“And what cause is that?” you asked as you tried to keep from laughing, but it was hard when Eddie was standing there pouting like an innocent puppy while holding a bag of illicit substances.
“Becauseeeee… I wanted to get high with you?” Eddie replied with a sheepish smile. “And I think I deserve it after being such a brave hero, don’t you?”
“You’re really going to milk that forever, aren’t you?” you deadpanned, but secretly you were happy that he saw himself as you did, even if just a little, even if he tried to make it a joke.
“Forever and ever, baby.” He grinned before shaking the bag at you. “So, what do you say, Obi? Do you want to enjoy your surprise, or do you want to be a goody two shoes and give Byers back his weed?”
You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to look conflicted, but really, there was no question.
“Fine.” You snatched the bag out of his hand while his grin widened. “But I’m rolling. You always make them too fat.”
“No such thing,” Eddie snickered, but he dutifully followed you back to your bedroom.
You went over to your desk while Eddie sauntered over to the bed. Before your mother left, you always kept your papers and lighters hidden deep in a junk drawer, or even in the floorboards after David moved in and started giving you shit when you came home from Eddie’s smelling particularly skunky. But now she and David were gone, and Wayne honestly didn’t give a shit. He even sometimes smoked a bit himself to deal with the pain that came from working in a powerplant for thirty odd years. So, your tray was just sitting in the corner of your desk, and you pulled it towards you as you flicked on the lamp in the opposite corner.
Behind you, Eddie had grabbed his guitar from the side of the bed and was idly strumming out the riff of a Motorhead song. Gareth had given him a small amp after the Munson trailer was destroyed, but Eddie was always respectful and kept the volume at a tolerable level, unless you asked him to crank it up. It might be strange to some, but you found the heavy rock chords soothing, and you hummed along absently as you picked up your grinder.
“Obiiiii,” Eddie sing-songed from the bed behind you, and he suddenly paused his strumming.
“I haven’t even started yet, Munson,” you said without looking back at him. “Patience.”
“But why are you allllll the way over there?” he asked, and you could just imagine the pout on his face. “Just come roll it on the bed.”
“You know that never ends well,” you snorted, shooting a look at him over your shoulder. And yup, he was pouting. “We always end up spilling it, and I am not picking crumbs out of my carpet and wasting what little we have.”
“We don’t always spill it,” Eddie argued, but when you just cocked an eyebrow at him, he huffed. “Okay, maybe, like, eighty percent of the time.”
“So basically always.” You shook your head and faced forward again, opening the bag of weed and trying not to greedily inhale like a crazy person. God, you’d missed smoking. Your anxiety had been through the roof this past week as everyone waited for the other shoe to drop. You just wanted one night to not think about it. “Just give me five minutes, and I’ll come join you.”
“That’s soooo long, though,” Eddie groaned from behind you. “I don’t know if I’ll make it that long.”
You glanced at him again to see he’d sprawled back dramatically on your pillows, his guitar laying across his chest. He was staring at you with those puppy dog eyes again, but your gaze got sidetracked by the sliver of pale skin just visible between the hem of his black hoodie and the tops of his black and torn jeans— both hand-me-downs from Jonathan, though Eddie was a bit taller. Heat bloomed to life in the pit of your gut, but it was quickly extinguished when you saw the edge of a pink and still-healing scar.
That night, filled with blood and the shrieking of bats, suddenly filled your mind, and now you wanted to be close to him, too, to feel him pressed against you, warm skin and beating heart.
You didn’t say anything as you turned back to the desk, quickly gathered your tray and supplies, and stood from your chair. You crossed the room in two strides, but instead of sitting on the bed itself, you sat on the floor between the wall and the side of the bed. Pressing back against the mattress with Eddie’s legs dangling to the left of you, you stretched out your own legs and set the tray of supplies between your thighs.
“Wait, are you telling me that worked?” Eddie laughed from the bed above you.
“Hush, I’m working,” you muttered, but you leaned your shoulder into the side of his leg to quell the latent panic still haunting the corners of your brain.
He was fine. He was sitting right here beside you, alive, and the two of you were going to get high, so all was right with the world.
You repeated these things to yourself as you slowly ground up some of Jonathan’s weed, but almost like he could hear your thoughts, Eddie suddenly swung himself upright. Then he slid down to sit beside you on the floor, leaving his guitar against your pillows. His legs were longer than yours, so when he stretched them out, his toes brushed the edge of the wall in front of you.
“That’s better,” Eddie sighed as he leaned against you, settling his right hand on top of your thigh.
It was still strange to see his fingers bare, but the ring he previously wore on that hand was now perched on your middle finger, the black stone clicking off the grinder as you turned it. He’d given it to you a few days after he got out of the hospital, at first just lying on your couch with his head in your lap and playfully stacking his rings on your fingers. Most of them were too big, but the gemstone one fit, and he’d grinned so wide when he told you to keep it that you couldn’t deny him.
After a moment, Eddie started idly tugging at the dangling strings of your jean cutoffs, and his touch distracted you enough that you almost dropped the grinder and spilled everything.
“Munson.” You shot him a quick glare, and he grinned, stilling his hand but not taking it away.
“Sorry, princess,” he said. “I’ll be good.”
“I highly doubt that,” you muttered as you carefully opened the grinder, set it on the tray, and reached for the rolling papers.
“I take offense, dear Obi,” Eddie gasped, and his hand squeezed around the meat of your thigh, his thumb slipping under the hem of your shorts.
Your breathing stuttered as the papers crinkled in your hands, and you shot the dark-haired bastard another heated look.
Eddie glanced down at his hand like it wasn’t his, and then he moved it further down toward your knee and shot you another disarming smile.
“Okay, now, I’ll be good,” he said.
You shook your head but didn’t respond this time, instead focusing on the task at hand. Very slowly and very carefully, you bent one of the rolling papers into a shallow trench and then tapped some of the ground-up weed out of the grinder and into the paper. By some miracle, you didn’t spill any, and you set down the grinder and capped it before you started rolling the actual joint. Once you were satisfied by the overall size and shape, you brought the joint up to your mouth and licked the edge, your fingers nimbly rolling the paper into a cylinder and twisting off the ends.
“Ta-da.” You smirked and flourished the joint as you looked up at Eddie, but your smugness evaporated in an instant.
Eddie was staring at you with such an intent expression that you felt naked. His pupils were dilated, turning his already dark eyes into pools of black that glimmered with something you couldn’t name, and his gaze was locked onto your lips. You also realized his hand had tightened around your thigh again, and your skin broke out into goosebumps.
“Um…” Your voice cracked, your mouth suddenly dry, and you snaked your tongue out to wet your lips, Eddie tracking the movement like a predator tracks its prey. “Munson?”
His named seemed to snap him out of hit, and his eyes flicked up to yours.
“What?” he asked. His voice was raspy, rough, like he’d swallowed nails and gravel.
“I, uh…” You fought to regain your composure and suddenly remembered the joint in your hand. “I finished. And I w-will say, it looks pretty perfect. Definitely not too fat.”
Eddie stared at you for a long moment before his gaze finally drifted to the joint between your fingers, and now that his eyes weren’t boring into yours anymore, you felt like you could breathe.
“Hmm, I’ll be the judge of that, Obi,” he said as he plucked the joint from your hand, his voice back to its usual teasing cadence. He narrowed his eyes at the joint, inspecting it from every angle at great detail and making exaggerated faces. After a few moments, he clicked his tongue and looked back at you, and the hint of a smirk was tugging at his lips. “Well, I don’t know about perfect, but it’s pretty good. A solid eight out of ten.”
“Excuse me?” you scoffed, playing along. “And where did I lose two points?”
“The ends are messy,” he said with all seriousness. “And since there are two ends, you lose two points.”
“Fine, then give it back.” You reached out for the joint. “I’ll smoke it all by myself, messy ends and all.”
“Well, now, let’s not be too hasty,” Eddie laughed, leaning back and extending his arm out of your reach. Then he pressed the fingers of his opposite hand to his ear and nodded like someone else was talking to him. “Wait, what’s that? I’m hearing from the other judges that your score has been reconsidered! Perfect ten out of ten.”
“That’s what I thought.” You smirked and sat back against the mattress, picking up the lighter from your tray and tossing it into his lap. “And because I’m so nice, I’ll even let you light it up.”
“Your charity knows no bounds, Obi.” Eddie stuck the end of the joint between his lips and grinned as he picked up the lighter. “One of the things I love most about you.”
His tone and expression were joking, but there was a genuine earnestness to his eyes that made your cheeks flush.
But then he was striking the lighter, bringing the flame to the tip of the joint, and inhaling. You watched his cheeks hollow, the tendons in his neck standing out in stark relief, and the sight made the heat in your face travel down to the rest of your body.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
“Shit,” Eddie exhaled a few seconds later, smoke curling from his lips and rising to the ceiling. The acrid smell hit you like a wave, and already you felt your body relaxing.
No, you needed this.
“Don’t hog it, Munson,” you muttered, nudging your elbow into his arm. “Sharing is caring.”
“And you said I needed patience,” he teased but handed the joint over.
The second it was at your lips, you inhaled slowly, holding the breath deep in your lungs until spots of color began to dance in the corners of your vision. Then you exhaled all at once, a sharp release, and your ears rang slightly as you started to cough.
“Fuckkkk.” You dropped your head back against the edge of the bed. Tears blurred your view of the ceiling, but then you blinked, and drops of warm water trailed down your cheeks.
“I know, right?” Eddie snickered, taking the joint back from you. “This shit’s way better that what I got from Rick. I didn’t know Byers was such a connoisseur.”
“Connoisseur,” you echoed and then giggled. Your head already felt a little swimmy, but that might be from the coughing and lack of oxygen. “That’s a funny word.”
“Blame the French, sweetheart,” Eddie chuckled before he took another drag.
The two of you passed the joint for a few rounds, and you felt like you could melt into the carpet. Every knot in every muscle you had unwound bit by bit, and the horrors of the Upside Down and the impending future faded until they were nothing but a distant memory.
“Hey, Obi,” Eddie murmured what felt like minutes and hours later. “Pssst, Obi.”
“Hmmm?” you hummed, lolling your head to the side to look at him.
His face was less than a foot away, so close you could count every pore and laugh line, and his brown eyes were hooded and glassy as they skipped over your face. He was holding the still-smoking joint between his middle and index finger, like he would hold a cigarette, but when he caught your gaze, he shifted his grip so he was holding it more firmly between his index finger and thumb.
“Can I try something?” he asked, and there was a glint in his gaze that you knew you should be worried about, but you felt too relaxed to worry about anything right now. “There’s this thing I’ve always wanted to try…”
“Sure,” you mumbled, and Eddie grinned before he brought the joint to his mouth and inhaled again, the cherry on the end flaring orange.
Then he held the joint out of the way and leaned forward, and dull surprise sparked through your veins when his lips met yours.
You opened up to him instinctively, inhaling sharply just from his proximity, and Eddie seized the opportunity to shotgun the hit he’d taken into your mouth. Your eyes fluttered closed as his tongue chased the smoke past your teeth, and he flicked the point of it against the roof of your mouth before he pulled away.
You held your breath for as long as you could before exhaling, and when you opened your eyes again, Eddie’s gaze was locked on your face. His eyes were black once more, his head backlit by the lamp on the bedside table behind him, and you suddenly realized what that something in his gaze had been when he’d watched you roll the joint. Because it was there again.
Lust.
Your stomach immediately bottomed out inside of you as every hair on your body stood on end.
It had been three weeks since Eddie woke up in the hospital, three weeks since the two of you confessed your feelings to each other, since he moved into your house. He even slept beside you in your bed every night. Not at first, of course. For the first two nights, he just “slept” on your living room couch while Wayne took the master bedroom. But by the third morning, you couldn’t ignore the dark bags under Eddie’s eyes any longer and so confronted him. He had eventually confessed that he hadn’t been sleeping much. Kept being woken up by nightmares and then panicking that something was in the house and running to check on you in your bedroom. You had laughed a little, then, to his confusion, and told him you’d been checking up on him, too, the pair of you seemingly missing each other like ships in the night. Hell, for all you knew, you were the ones waking each other up.
After that, Eddie moved into your bedroom for both your peace of minds, but like a gentleman, he tried to take the floor. He piled it with sheets and blankets and pillows, assuring you it was fine, but that lasted all of five minutes after the lights were dimmed.
(You never turned them out completely at night, both you and Eddie too uneasy in the dark.)
Emboldened by the shadows hiding your furious blush, you were the one who broke and asked him to just come lie in the bed with you, and after only a few beats, Eddie had slowly and quietly climbed up onto the mattress. He’d been stiff, stretched out beside you on his back, and in an effort to help him relax, you’d rolled on your side to face him, tentatively placing your hand on his chest to show him it was okay. He’d immediately subsided into the sheets, sighing, and turned his head to brush a kiss against your brow. And the two of you slept that night with no nightmares, for either of you.
Since then, you’d slept every night in the same bed as him, and more and more lately, you woke up with him wrapped around you, his front to your back, holding you tightly against his body.
But it had never been sexual. (Well, you had woken up a few times with his morning wood pressed against your back, but that didn’t count, that was just an…unconscious physiological response, and you always pretended to be asleep until he rolled out of bed to go to the bathroom.)
Either way, nothing had happened between you two except for a few heavy makeout sessions, and those never happened in your bedroom. The living room, the kitchen, the hallway, but never the bedroom. And whenever things got too heated, Eddie was always the first to pull away, to press one last kiss to your brow and step back, changing the subject to something innocuous.
You knew it had been because the two of you were so injured at first. You’d only ditched the sling a few days ago, and your arm was still sore, needing to be exercised every morning and night. Eddie had also recently received the all-clear from the doctors, and you wondered if he’d just been waiting to make sure neither of you got hurt.
The look in his eyes was definitely not hesitant now, and you felt your core throb in response.
A thousand thoughts tumbled through your brain like rocks in a dryer, a very slow dryer, because everything felt slow and languid around you, like it always did when you got high. Your skin was lightly buzzing, but your tongue was heavy in your mouth, and Eddie’s hungry gaze continued to pin you to the spot like a butterfly pinned beneath glass.
“Do you…” The words fell from your mouth unbidden, slow like molasses, but nervousness suddenly traced its hand down your spine, making you shiver.
“Do I… what?” Eddie murmured after a moment of silence. His voice was lower than usual, made rougher by the smoke, and you suddenly remembered the joint in his hand.
For courage, you leaned forward and plucked the remnants of the joint from between his fingers. There was maybe one good hit left, so you took it, the embers burning your fingertips as the smoke swirled into your mouth before you held it there. Then, as Eddie’s black eyes swallowed you whole, you bridged the distance between your lips and his. He opened dutifully beneath you, inhaling as you exhaled, and one of his hands came up and cradled your jaw, long fingers framing your face.
Once your lungs were emptied, you pulled back a fraction, and since you were feeling a little more brave, you trapped his lower lip between your teeth and tugged. You let him go just as quickly, but Eddie’s fingers had burrowed into your hair now, holding you in place.
Your eyes fluttered open— when had you closed them?— and you could see a tiny version of yourself reflected in Eddie’s wide pupils. Then he exhaled sharply, a curtain of smoke rising between your faces, and you were just about to pull further back when he lunged forward and smashed his mouth against yours.
His sudden ferocity startled a gasp out of you, and Eddie cupped your face more soundly as he leaned forward, his tongue delving past your lips and pulling up a moan from deep within your chest.
You had just enough sense left to drop the ashes of the joint on your tray before you were tangling both hands in Eddie’s hair and kissing him back with equal intensity. The rings on his left hand felt cold against your temple, your cheek, but everywhere else you felt hot, so hot. His mouth was like a furnace, a fiery brand, tasting of ash and smoke.
You were both gasping for breath every time your lips parted, but then one of you would dive back in for more, teeth and tongues clashing. When his left hand trailed from your cheek down to your neck, you thought you were going to combust, and then his other hand tiptoed up your thigh, and you knew you were going to burst into flame.
The apex of your thighs throbbed again when his fingers brushed the hem of your shorts, and you whimpered before you ripped your mouth away, gasping for breath and dropping your hands from his hair.
“Come back here,” Eddie muttered as he chased after you, but then he suddenly hissed and froze.
The pained note in his voice abruptly cleared some of the fog from your mind, and you blinked as your gaze zeroed in on him.
“Are—” God, your voice sounded wrecked. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie nodded, but his eyes were tightly closed as he faced forward and leaned back against the bed again. “Just… twisted a little too far.”
His right hand ghosted over his side, and you chewed on your swollen lower lip.
“Sorry,” you murmured, guilt stabbing through you. He was still healing, and here you were being a horny mess.
Eddie opened the eye closest to you, and then, when he saw your expression, he opened the other and turned his head to face you.
“Nothing you should be apologizing for, princess,” he said, and his smile turned a little sheepish before he continued. “That was… so fuckin’ hot.”
His voice took on that gravelly quality again, and you could feel slickness pool in your panties.
“Yeah,” you breathed, the filter between your mind and mouth nonexistent, shrouded by smoke and the buzzing feeling in your veins. “It was.”
Hunger flashed in Eddie’s gaze again, and he reached his arm out to you.
“Come here,” he muttered, flexing his fingers in a grabby motion.
“I’m sitting right next to you,” you said, but you didn’t fight it when his fingers gently latched onto your wrist.
“Not close enough.” Eddie pouted at you, tugging your arm.
You were half turned anyway, so you kneeled and shifted to fully face him, shuffling forward until your knees were pressed to the outside of his thigh.
“Closerrrrr,” he hummed and tugged at you again.
You realized he wanted you to straddle his lap, and a wave of heat washed over you from head to toe.
“I-I don’t want to hurt you again,” you tried to argue.
“You didn’t hurt me in the first place, Obi,” he said with a lopsided smile, the one that always tore down all of your defenses. “I just turned in a weird way. Buttttt, if you’re sitting right in front of me…”
He yanked at your arm a third time, and to keep from falling over, you clumsily slung a leg over his lap. Once you regained your balance, you hovered over him with your knees digging into the carpet on either side of his thighs, and he grinned up at you.
“Now I don’t have to turn at all,” Eddie finished, sounding proud of himself, but it was hard to be angry at him when his hands were settling on your hips, thumbs rubbing at the jut of your hip bones through your shorts.
“That’s… good,” you said. The slow-firing synapses in your brain were unable to come up with anything else.
“Doing okay there, sweetheart?” he asked as he smiled up at you. His thumbs were still stroking your hips, slowly driving you insane.
Your mouth was so dry, but you swallowed as best you could and nodded.
“Yeah,” you murmured, but then you wobbled on your knees and had to put your hands on his shoulders for balance.
“You sure?” Eddie chuckled before he tugged on your hips. “Why don’t you sit back a bit, Ms. Weeble-Wobble.”
You slowly sat back on his thighs, careful to not crush his legs, and Eddie smiled when you were at eye level.
“Hi,” he said, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to the tip of your nose.
“Hi,” you giggled back, and then giggled again as you settled more comfortably on his thighs. “Shit, this stuff is good. I feel like I could float away.”
“Yeah, we’re definitely moving to California,” Eddie snickered and squeezed his hands over your hips. “And don’t worry. I’ll keep you anchored, princess.”
“You always do,” you sighed, and something flashed in the dark depths of his bloodshot eyes, but it was gone just as fast, fleeting and mercurial.
“What were you going to ask me before?”
“Huh?” You blinked to focus on his face a little better, and Eddie was staring at you intently.
“You started to ask me something before you took that last hit,” he clarified. “You said, ‘Do you…?’”
You frowned as you tried to remember, wading through smoke and the memories of his mouth hot against yours. Then you suddenly recalled why you’d taken that last hit in the first place, and your face burned with embarrassment.
“I don’t remember… it was nothing,” you said, squirming in his lap and then stopping when the movement pressed the seam of your shorts into your clit.
Fuck, when did you get so wet?
“Well, that’s not contradictory,” Eddie teased. “Which is it, Obi? You don’t remember, or it was nothing?”
“It was stupid,” you amended and refused to meet his eyes, staring instead at a spot on the bed above his shoulder.
“I highly doubt that,” he scoffed, but when you stayed silent, he reached out, gently took your chin between his thumb and index finger, and turned you to face him. He was still smiling gently, but his eyes were serious. “Nothing you say or do could ever be stupid.”
The sincerity in his face and voice made you blush even deeper, and you wished he would just drop it, but Eddie Munson was like a dog with a bone when he wanted something, and he stared at you patiently as he waited for you to respond.
“Fine, it’s… embarrassing,” you huffed, and you shifted your hands on his shoulders so you could fiddle with his curls.
“Now we’re getting somewhere.” Eddie smirked and turned to playfully nip at your fingers. “Come on, tell me.”
You stubbornly shook your head, pressing your lips together, and Eddie narrowed his eyes. After a moment, a familiar glimmer of mischief flashed across his face, and one of his hands abandoned your hips to cup your cheek.
Then he leaned forward until his lips were just a hair’s breadth away from yours, but he paused before kissing you.
“Not even if I say pretty please?” he whispered as he tossed your earlier words back at you, warm breath fanning across your lips.
His proximity, the warmth of his hands on your cheek and hip, and the high still buzzing through your body, it all overwhelmed your senses, short circuited your brain, and your mouth opened of its own accord.
“Do you want to have sex with me?” you blurted out.
Your words echoed in the deafening silence that followed, and Eddie’s eyes widened in surprise, his teasing expression going slack.
You were so embarrassed, you were sure your blood was going to start boiling.
“W-Wait, no, that’s not what I— that was stupid, oh my god, forget I said that… like that,” you rambled. Your tongue felt clumsy and alien in your mouth, and at this point you wanted to bite it off. Instead, you slammed your eyes closed and tried to pull away. “Never mind, I’ll just—”
“Woah, hey, now,” Eddie said, clamping his hands around your waist and keeping you seated on his thighs. “Where’s the fire? Come on, Obi, it’s okay. We all say things we don’t mean when we’re high.”
You peeked open your eyes to see him smiling at you reassuringly, and he was just so beautiful, so kind, that you couldn’t stop yourself from digging your hole even deeper.
“I… did mean it,” you murmured, and again your words seemed to surprise Eddie, his fingers flexing around your waist. You thought you saw his pupils dilate even further, and that gave you the courage to go on. “I-I mean, I know I’m high, but tonight isn’t the first time I’ve… thought about this. It was bad enough when we were just friends and I thought I didn’t have a shot with you, but ever since that first time you kissed me in the hospital, I’ve been… And I know we’ve both been healing, and the world is set to end at any moment, but I just… I want you, Eddie.”
You were panting for breath by the end of your little spiel, and you bit your lip as you searched his face for a reaction. You hadn’t been very eloquent, but you hoped he understood what you were trying to say.
Eddie’s pupils were definitely blown now, swallowing his irises into inky pools that contrasted with his reddened sclera. He exhaled shakily and licked his lips, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his throat clicked with a swallow, and you thought you could feel his fingers tremble where they were still resting on your waist.
“Are—” Eddie started, stopped, cleared his throat. Then his gaze met yours, and you were surprised to see the uncertainty there. “Are you sure, Obi? B-Because I don’t want you to feel like you have to. I’m perfectly fine with taking things slow, just kissing you— god, just kissing you is already enough to drive me fucking insane. So we don’t have to rush. I don’t… I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret. I don’t want to hurt you. Never want to hurt you.”
That last sentence was murmured softly, Eddie’s face twisting, and your heart twisted along with it. This man. This ridiculous, noble, gentle, kind man. You loved him with your entire being.
“You could never hurt me, Eddie Munson,” you said, leaning forward to brush your lips against his. The kiss was soft, barely there, and you didn’t seek to deepen it. Instead, you pulled back and moved one of your hands to his cheek, stubble scraping across your palm as your pressed your forehead to his and stared into his eyes. “And if you want to wait, that’s okay with me. Because I agree, kissing you is pretty awesome.”
Eddie cracked a smile, some of the tension bleeding out of his shoulders.
“But,” you continued, your voice dropping low, and Eddie fingers tightened around your waist in response. “Just so you know, I could never regret anything I do with you. How could I regret something I’ve been dreaming about for almost an entire year?”
Eddie sucked in a breath and held it, and under your palm, you felt the muscles of his jaw flex as he ground his teeth together. He studied your face for a long, endless moment before he suddenly jerked his hips up. His belt buckle just barely brushed your clit through your shorts, but it was enough to tear a gasp from you, pleasure zapping through every nerve in your body, and Eddie snapped.
One of his hands left your waist to grab the back of your head, and then he was tugging you forward, crashing your mouth against his.
“Fuck, okay, yes, god, yes,” he gasped between kisses, and his hands were everywhere, in your hair, dragging down your spine, grabbing your ass to pull you against him.
“I… take it… you don’t want to… wait?” you couldn’t help but tease in the brief moments he released your lips.
“You’re not the only one who’s been dreaming of this, sweetheart,” he muttered as his mouth left yours, trailing across your jaw and down your neck. He pressed a kiss over your pulse point, and your breathing stuttered.
“Then maybe we should turn those dreams… into reality?” you suggested and tilted your head back to give him more access. The fact that he wanted you just as much as you wanted him made you bold, and you ground down into his lap to further emphasize your point.
“Shit,” Eddie hissed, and then his mouth was on yours again, hungry and insistent. His tongue traced over every one of your teeth before he pulled back and nipped at your lip, his voice coming out in a desperate gasp. “J-Just tell me what to do, Obi. Fuck, I’ll do anything, anything you want, just tell me.”
It could have just been dirty talk, but you thought you detected a strange note of uncertainty to his words, and the fire building in your gut cooled a degree as you pulled back and looked into Eddie’s face. His eyes were glassy and full of lust, but you saw insecurity there, too, and a question jumped to the forefront of your mind and off your tongue before you could stop it.
“Have you… done this before?” you asked.
Eddie winced slightly, more of that insecurity blooming on his face, and you felt him start to fiddle with his rings against your right hip.
“Well, um, technically, no, b-but I know the general gist. Talk floats around the boy’s locker room, ya know, and all those magazines under my bed certainly painted a picture— shit, fuck, forget I said that. What I’m trying to say is all of my knowledge is, uh, theoretical, not practical. Not a lot of girls lining up to sleep with the trailer trash freak who sells drugs and worships Satan and… wow, I’m really selling myself here, huh? So sexy. Shit.”
Groaning, Eddie clenched his eyes shut and dropped his head back, but you chased after him, rising up on your knees a little to lean into his chest.
“Hey,” you muttered, and when he wouldn’t look at you, you reached out with both hands to cup his face. “Hey, Munson.”
Reluctantly, he tilted his head up and opened his eyes, and you smiled.
“Hi there,” you giggled, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose like he had done to you earlier.
“Hi,” he grumbled back, but he let you brush his bangs out of his face and met your gaze.
“For the record,” you said as you ran your thumbs over his stubbled cheeks, and you couldn’t help but dip down and press a quick kiss to his parted lips. “I still think you’re very sexy.”
“Uh-huh,” Eddie muttered, sounding unconvinced.
“I’m serious.” You met his eyes again before your own started to trail over the features of his face. “Sexy. Handsome. Pretty. Beautiful. I think of at least one of these words every time I look at you. Your eyes always make me feel like my lungs forgot how to work, and every time you smile, especially if it’s directed at me, the world stops for just an instant. And don’t even get me started on the tattoos and jewelry. Chicks dig that stuff, you know?”
You ended on a partial joke because Eddie had started to squirm under your praise, but then he looked up at you, shifted one of your hands off his cheek, and pressed a kiss to your palm. He looked less uncomfortable now, less insecure, but his smile was still tentative.
“So… I haven’t ruined my chances, then?” he asked, and seeing the lust spark back to life in his eyes made you clench your thighs together.
“Definitely not,” you muttered as you hovered over him, your lips slowly descending toward his again.
“And you’re sure it doesn’t… bother you? That I haven’t… you know?”
“Not at all,” you breathed. You were less than a centimeter away from kissing him, but a sudden thought popped into your head, and you felt it only fair to voice it. “Does it bother you that I have?”
“No.” Eddie’s response was instantaneous, full of sincerity, and you couldn’t wait any longer. You dove down and slanted your mouth over his, and Eddie groaned against you, his fingers digging into your waist. All of his hesitation was gone now, and his hands burned a path down your back to cup your ass. You whimpered into the kiss, and your noise seemed to spur him on, because the next thing you knew, he was shifting his feet behind you and pushing upright.
“Eddie!” you gasped as you tore your mouth from his. “Be careful!”
“I got you, sweetheart, don’t worry,” he chuckled once he was fully on his feet, his hands tucked under your thighs that were wrapped around his waist.
“I’m more worried about you hurting yourself.” You frowned. You weren’t exactly thin, not like Nancy and Robin. “Put me down.”
“As the lady requests.” Eddie smirked and then turned, throwing you down on the bed beside his guitar, which he immediately moved out of the way and onto the floor. He was grinning when he looked back at you, but he seemed to freeze at the sight of you sprawled across the mattress.
You were wearing jean cutoffs, his old Metallica shirt that Dustin saved from the trailer, and a worn red flannel on top. It was a casual outfit, not even especially cute, but Eddie was staring down at you like you were wearing the sexiest set of lingerie.
“Fuck, Obi,” he breathed as his eyes pinned you to the mattress, and you squirmed under his scrutiny.
“Well, are you just going to stand there and stare at me, Munson?” you asked, cheeks flushing.
“Hell no,” he said, and then he was climbing onto the bed, hovering over you on his forearms and claiming your lips once again. He wore a new guitar pick necklace, the pick having fallen out of his copy of The Hobbit the other night. At some point, he’d apparently forgotten he was using it as a bookmark, but now it was hanging on a loose silver chain, brushing your jaw and neck as it dangled from his throat.
The two of you made out for a minute, but then Eddie started pressing kisses down your neck. When he reached your collarbones, he paused to dip his tongue into the hollow between them, and you moaned as you arched your back. The weed high was still making everything feel tingly and cranked up to eleven, and you could already feel that your panties were sticking to you beneath your shorts.
“Eddie, please,” you gasped as you buried a hand into his mane of curls.
“What do you want, Obi?” he muttered against the base of your throat, licking the skin there again.
“You.” Squirming, you arched up into him again, brain fuzzy with pleasure. “I-I want you. Want you to touch me.”
“Shit, sweetheart,” Eddie groaned before he lifted his head to seize your lips in another kiss. “Where? Where do you want me to touch you?”
“Everywhere,” you whined, reaching for the hem of your own shirt. It suddenly felt stifling in your bedroom, and you could feel sweat bead along your brow.
Eddie let out a litany of curses, but he helped to slip the shirt off over your head, and then you reached behind yourself and undid the clasp of your bra with a flick, too impatient to wait.
As you tossed the bra away and fell back onto the bed again, you saw that Eddie’s wide eyes were glued to your breasts, and his mouth hung open like the hinge of his jaw had broken.
“Oh, f-fuck, you’re so gorgeous, Obi, god, I want to put my mouth on them.” His dark gaze flicked to yours, begging. “Can I? Please?”
You wanted to tease him, but the earnest way he asked your permission made your pussy clench around nothing, and all you could do was nod your head.
Eddie wasted no time, diving down and immediately dragging his tongue over one of your nipples. The shock of his wet, hot mouth made you gasp, then whine as he closed his lips around you and sucked.
“O-Oh, shit,” you moaned when he reached up and tweaked your other nipple with his nimble fingers.
“Feel good?” he mumbled, words muffled by your flesh.
“So good,” you breathed and then cried out when he ran his teeth across your nipple. “F-Fuck! Don’t stop, don’t…”
You trailed off into another moan as Eddie flicked the nipple he wasn’t sucking on, the nub pebbling between his fingers.
“Goddamn, you make the prettiest noises, princess,” the metalhead muttered between your breasts, switching from one to the other. “Better than I ever dreamed of. And I’ve dreamed about sucking your titties a lot.”
The vulgar confession made more slick pool in your panties, and you whimpered as you reached an arm down, wiggling it between the two of you until you found the button of your jeans. But you couldn’t open it from this angle, and you groaned in frustration.
“Please, Eddie,” you begged, using your other hand to tug at his hair until he released your nipple with a slick ‘pop.’
“What?” he asked as he looked up at you, and his eyes were glassy with pleasure. You could also feel where he was hard against your thigh, and you pressed up into his bulge, making him stutter out a moan.
“Pants,” you gasped, reaching for the button of your shorts again. “Help me… help me get them off.”
“Shit,” Eddie exhaled with wide eyes as he watched you lift your hips, and then he was fumbling into motion. “Yeah, here let me just…”
With his help, you were able to push your cutoffs down your thighs and kick them away, but he stopped you when you reached for your panties.
“Eddieeee,” you whined, but he clasped your wrist firmly and pressed your hand into the bed beside your hip.
“Slow downnnn, Obi,” he said, that familiar teasing lilt in his voice, and he flashed a lopsided smile as he started to crawl down the length of you. “There are some things I want to savor.”
“Sadist,” you pouted, and Eddie opened his mouth like he was going to retort, but then his eyes zeroed in on the apex of your thighs.
“Fuckkkkk,” he breathed as he lied down on his stomach, legs dangling off the bed and his gaze glued to your pussy. “You’re so… wet. Did I do this to you?”
The awed disbelief in his voice made you moan, and you tried to clench your thighs together, but Eddie grabbed them, fingers digging into your skin.
“No, don’t hide,” his said, voice breathless. “I— fuck, I want to—”
He broke off suddenly and then just darted forward, licking a hot stripe up your slit that you felt even through the soaked fabric of your panties.
“Oh!” you gasped, the syllable cracking in the middle, and your hips bucked toward his face.
Eddie pulled back as he licked his lips, and then his wide eyes flicked from your pussy, to your face, and back again.
“S-Shit, you’re right,” he rasped out, and his fingers started clawing at your hips, tugging your panties down your thighs. “These have to go, gotta get out of the way, f-fuck.”
You giggled a little at his frantic fumbling and the way he threw your underwear over his shoulder, but then his hands were sliding up your thighs again, prying them apart, and the laughter hitched in your lungs when his eyes zeroed in on where you were wet and trembling.
“Je-Jesus Christ.” Eddie swallowed sharply as he lowered himself onto his stomach again, his gaze still locked on your pussy. “I— Jesus H. Christ. God, you look so pretty, so… Fuck, can I taste you, Obi? Please?”
Your whole body flushed, from the tips of your ears to your toes, and you squirmed beneath him.
“Y-You don’t have to,” you muttered. Despite not being a virgin yourself, you’d actually only slept with one other person, and he never did that to you. In fact, the whole “losing you virginity” thing took less than five minutes and was ultimately pretty unsatisfying.
“Oh, I want to, baby,” Eddie corrected as his eyes finally clicked to yours, dark with hunger. “Holy shit, do I want to.”
The last remnants of saliva in your mouth dried up, but you felt more wetness trickle out between your legs.
“O-Okay.” Your voice shook as you nodded, and Eddie grinned like you told him he won the lottery.
Fuck, he was going to destroy you.
Eddie wiggled a little to get more comfortable, but after a moment, he ended up just kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed, tugging you down until your butt met the edge of the mattress.
You gasped as he parted your thighs to make room for his broad shoulders, and he smiled as he trailed kisses up each of your legs before he pushed them back so your feet dangled near his ears.
In this position, you felt vulnerable, all of you laid out and laid bare, but the absolute adoration and lust in Eddie’s eyes chased away any of your lingering insecurities.
“Damn, I wish I had a camera,” he muttered as his gaze dragged over you, hot enough to burn. “You look… so fucking incredible.”
“Eddie, stop teasing me,” you huffed, reaching out to twine your fingers through his curls. “Please.”
“Well, since you asked so nicely, pretty girl.” He smirked, but then his cocky expression grew a little hesitant. “I-I’ll probably fuck it up at first, but just tell me what feels good. I want to make you feel good.”
You nodded frantically, but all your words were lost when Eddie leaned forward, his breath fanning over your slick folds. His fingers dug into the meat of your thighs as he anchored himself, the rings on his left hand cold against your overheated skin. Then the flat of his tongue dragged across your pussy, and your vision whited out.
“F-Fuck!” You tossed your head back as pleasure zapped through you, and you unintentionally tugged on Eddie’s hair, pulling him further between your thighs.
“Oh, god,” Eddie whimpered, and then he was suddenly licking you with fervor, delving between your folds until his nose bumped into your clit. Even that slight stimulation to your bundle of nerves had you jolting, and Eddie noticed, shifting his mouth upward, tongue swirling in circles that made you see stars.
“Eddieeee,” you keened to the ceiling when he sucked your clit between his lips, and he immediately popped his head up so you could just see his wide eyes and slick mouth over the curve of your belly.
“Holy shit, you taste so fucking good, Obi,” he said, voice guttural. “Am I— does it feel good, too?”
“Y-Yes, fuck, Eddie, feels incredible,” you panted as you tugged at his hair. “Please don’t stop.”
Eddie stared at your flushed and writhing body for a moment before he was diving back between your legs, tongue and lips everywhere. He was a little sloppy, saliva mixing with your arousal and making everything slick, but his eagerness made up for it. He was also very attuned to your every sound and twitch, so when he dipped his tongue into your entrance, and your moans rose in pitch, he started swirling the tip of his tongue around your hole until you were practically sobbing. Then he fucked his tongue into you as far as it could go, his nose pressed firmly to your clit, and your eyes rolled into the back of your head.
You didn’t know if it was the weed still singing through your veins or if it was just Eddie, but your orgasm crept up on you without warning. One moment, Eddie was pressing a sucking kiss to your clit before fucking his tongue back into you, groaning at the taste, and in the next instant, your spine was arching off the bed as every muscle in your body locked up.
“Shit, I’m-- ohhhhhh!” you wailed as Eddie rapidly thrust his tongue into you, shaking his head at the same time so his nose flicked back and forth over your clit.
It felt like you shattered into a million pieces, lights and colors exploding behind your tightly shut eyelids. You could distantly feel your legs spasming and clamping around Eddie’s head, but he was still moaning as he tongue-fucked you through your climax. You whimpered and clawed at his hair, feeling like every nerve in your body was an exposed live-wire, chanting his name until you ran out of breath.
Once your whines took on a slightly pained quality, Eddie pulled his mouth away, and it was like you were a puppet whose strings got cut, because you immediately slumped into the bed.
Air sawed in and out of your lungs as you gasped for breath, and you stared blindly at the spinning ceiling while you slowly descended back into your body. Your limbs felt like they were filled with static, but you mustered up enough energy to lift you head and look down toward the foot of the bed.
Eddie was still kneeling on the floor between your legs, and you felt your walls flutter around nothing at the glimmer of your juices smeared across his chin. His breathing was as ragged as your own, and his hair was wild, mussed by your fingers. When he caught your eye, he exhaled sharply and half-heartedly dragged the back of his wrist against his chin, his chain bracelet glinting in the light of your lamp.
“Jesus Christ, Obi,” he grunted out, and his black eyes threatened to swallow you whole. “That was… fuck, that was so goddamn hot. I could feel you fluttering around my tongue. Shit.”
He reached down with his right hand, and though the edge of the bed hid it from view, you knew he was palming his cock through his jeans. His obvious arousal made you throb again, and you bit your lip.
“I’ve… I’ve never cum that fast,” you confessed, and your cheeks still flushed with embarrassment even though the man in front of you had been tongue deep in your pussy just seconds ago.
Eddie groaned at your admission, and then both of his hands were latching onto your inner thighs again, thumbs smearing saliva and slick into your skin.
“Do you— can you do it again?” he asked, his dilated eyes flicking from your folds to your face. “I want to see you do it again. Wanna see you cum, pretty girl.”
His pet names made more slick drip out of you, made your thoughts fizz out into static for a moment, but then you frowned and propped yourself up on your elbows.
“What about you?” From this angle, you could see his lower half, and his cock was straining against his tight black jeans. It looked like it hurt. “I want to make you feel good, too. Can I put my mouth on you instead?”
Another groan rattled deep in Eddie’s chest, and he had to reach down again to press the heel of his palm into his crotch.
“Christ, that’s fucking tempting,” he panted, but then his eyes drifted back to your pussy, and they got that hungry glint in them as he leaned down and darted his tongue between your folds.
You cried out as your elbows buckled, your spine falling back to the mattress.
“But you just taste too goddamn good, baby,” he muttered against your clit. “Wanna make you feel good again. Want you to fall apart on my tongue, my fingers.”
You whined as he started licking at you once more, and soon you could feel the coil in your gut tightening bit by bit. This time, Eddie focused his mouth around your clitoris, alternating between flicking it with his tongue and sucking it between his lips, and when your legs started twitching around his ears, he snaked a hand down your belly and pressed a finger to your entrance.
You immediately shoved your hips down, sucking his finger in to the knuckle, and the two of you moaned in unison, the sound rattling through your bones.
“O-Oh, fuck,” Eddie hissed as his twisted his finger inside you, pressing against the walls of your pussy. “Fuck, Obi, you’re so wet and goddamn tight. Holy shit.”
“Eddie,” you whimpered, clenching around him. His finger was thicker than any of yours were, but it was still not enough, so you bore down, tears gathering along your lashes as you begged. “M-More. Please, Eddie. Y-Your finger f-feels so good— fuck! So good. I need another one, please.”
You were practically sobbing now, humping into his hand, and Eddie leaned down to pepper kisses over your inner thighs.
“Shhh, shh, it’s okay,” he soothed, and you felt the tip of a second finger prod at your entrance. “It’s okay, baby, I got you, give you everything you want. Anything you want. Here you go… shit, you gotta relax sweetheart, let me in.”
You whined but listened as best as you could, and a moment later, he slotted both fingers home inside of you, drawing a shout from deep within your chest. Your pussy immediately clamped down around both digits, but Eddie twisted and spread them inside you, stretching your walls, until he brushed up against that one spongy spot that caused you to wail.
“Fuck, is that it, baby? Is that the spot?” he grunted, pressing more insistently on it.
You couldn’t respond because your toes were starting to curl, your moans rising in pitch, but apparently that was all the response Eddie needed because he suddenly started thrusting his fingers, hard. They nailed your G-spot with pinpoint accuracy, squelching through your wetness, and then you felt his thumb brush over your clit.
“Cum for me, Obi,” he said as he pressed on your pleasure zones from both the inside and outside. “Cum on my fingers. Want to see it so bad, baby, please.”
The coil in your gut spun tighter and tighter, but it finally exploded when Eddie leaned down and sank his teeth into the flesh of your inner thigh.
Your mouth dropped open in a silent scream, and you felt yourself levitate off the bed as your second climax crashed into you like a tsunami wave. The weed in your system amplified the sensations once again, sending your mind into the stratosphere and your limbs spasming like you were being electrocuted. Then there was a gush of wetness between your thighs, and Eddie’s guttural groan echoed through your bones.
The world blacked out around you for a moment, and when you came to, you were sprawled limp on the bed. Your chest heaved as your lungs fought for oxygen, but the sensation of a wet tongue dragging across your thigh caused you to jerk.
You blearily glanced down at Eddie, and a gasp whistled between your teeth at what you saw.
His curly head was propped against your thigh, which he was still kitten licking, but what shocked you were the droplets dripping off his cheeks, jaw, and bangs. Then you shifted, and you realized you were lying in a very wet spot.
“F-Fuck!” You propped yourself up on shaking elbows, disbelief burning through you. “Did I…”
You trailed off, unable to complete the sentence, and Eddie’s eyes finally met yours. They looked like twin oceans of oil that were threatening to suck you under.
“Squirt?” he finished your hanging question, and his tongue flicked out to lick a drop of your juices off his chin. “Fuck yeah you did. Hottest thing I’ve ever goddamn seen.”
“Shittttt, I’m sorry,” you groaned and covered your face with both hands, falling back onto the bed as shame spiraled through you. “I-I forgot that smoking sometimes makes me do… that.”
It had happened twice, both times after you left Eddie’s trailer high and had to come home to satiate the burning ache between your legs. It had been embarrassing then— when you were alone, and no one saw you shamefully wash your sheets in the middle of the might— but it was mortifying now.
Eddie was silent for a moment, but then you felt him shift, the bed dipping as he climbed up onto his feet and hovered over you.
“Did you miss the part where I said that was the hottest goddamn thing I’ve seen in my life?” he asked, and when you wouldn’t reply, he used one of his hands to pry yours from your face. His fingers were tacky against your skin, and you flushed when you realized it was from your orgasm.
“R-Really?” you asked tentatively, finding his eyes, and the lust in his brown gaze almost set you aflame.
In response, Eddie lowered his hips, rolling them against your own until his erection pressed into the crease of your thigh. He was hard as steel, and since he was still somehow fully clothed, his belt buckle and jeans scraped over your sensitive skin deliciously.
A whimper caught in the back of your throat, and Eddie dove down to seize your lips. You groaned at the tangy taste of yourself, and he rolled his hips into your thigh again.
“What do you think?” Eddie asked against your lips, the question half growl, and even though you’d already cum twice, desire ignited in your belly again.
“I think you’re wearing too many clothes,” you muttered as you reached down to grab the hem of his hoodie, but the instant you brushed fabric, his fingers latched onto your wrist, his grip tight and unyielding.
You thought he was teasing you again, but when you looked up at his face, the lust that had been there was suddenly gone, replaced by an uneasy fear.
His expression immediately made you still.
“Eddie?” you asked and shifted your head to meet his gaze more directly under the shadow of his bangs. “Are you… okay?”
“Y-Yeah.” He smiled shakily and cleared his throat before he turned the wattage up on the smile, but it still looked forced. You stared at him patiently for about ten seconds, and when Eddie saw he hadn’t convinced you, he sighed and averted his eyes. “It’s just, uhh, can I keep my shirt o-on?”
The question hung between the two of you for a moment, and Eddie seemed to hunch more into the curtain of his hair.
“If that’s what you’re comfortable with, of course,” you said as you frowned at him, frown deepening when he seemed to sigh in relief. “But… can I ask why?”
His sudden change in demeanor concerned you, and you could feel your desire fading, taking a back seat as you hesitantly reached out and cupped his face. Eddie ground his jaw beneath your palm, but when he finally met your eyes, his expression fractured.
“It’s just—” he started, stopped, took a deep breath. Closing his eyes, he turned his head and nuzzled into your palm. “I… don’t exactly look pretty from the neck down anymore. Damn bats really ruined my bikini body, ya know? And I just didn’t want my s-scars to ruin the mood, but hey, would you look at that, I did it all by myself, huh?”
He laughed in a dry, self-deprecating manner, but you immediately tilted his head up.
“Eddie, look at me, open your eyes,” you said firmly, and after a moment of hesitation, he obeyed. His deep brown eyes looked so lost now, so uncertain and scared, it broke your goddamn heart. “Eddie Munson, I want you to listen to me, and listen good. First off, you didn’t ruin anything. Secondly, and more importantly, you are the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met—”
He opened his mouth, probably intent to argue, but you narrowed your eyes at him, and his lips pursed shut.
“You are the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met,” you repeated as you held his gaze. “Both inside and out. And I know for a fact that will not change no matter what’s under your shirt. I-I love you, Eddie. Did you forget that?”
“No,” he murmured, voice strained.
“Good,” you said. “Because I do. Munson, I love you so much it drives me insane. Literally insane. Insane enough that I dove head first into a hellish dimension and took on an army of bats with a lighter, a can of hairspray, and a busted shoulder.”
Eddie cracked a smile at that, his eyes going soft as melted chocolate. “My warrior princess.”
“Damn straight,” you huffed before you grew serious again. “But I love you, Eddie. Love the way you are so passionate about everything, be it DnD or learning a new song on the guitar. I love the way you’re always looking to make someone smile, someone laugh, or feel included. And I love how fiercely loyal you are, even to the point of stupidity. So nothing about you could ever be ugly. Especially not your scars. Because those scars mean y-you’re still with me, still alive. I’m, fuck, I’m so goddamn grateful for those scars, Munson.”
Your voice grew rough with tears, the backs of your eyes burning, and Eddie’s face twisted.
“Fuck, Obi, no, don’t cry. Come here.” He quickly gathered your naked body up in his arms, and then he half-carried, half-dragged you up the bed until you were both settled against the headboard. “Shhhh. I’m sorry. Shit, I’m such an idiot.”
“No, no, you’re not,” you argued, rubbing your face into his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you. He sighed into your hair, the sound tortured, and you knew you needed to lighten the mood. “Well, maybe a little. Sometimes. But not right now.”
“Ah, so the truth comes out.”
You snorted as you wiped your eyes against his hoodie and lifted your head off his shoulder, and Eddie immediately brushed back the hair hanging in your face. The two of you were settled on your sides—you, on your right, and him on his left— and his other hand, the one not in your hair, was wrapped around your back. His fingers trailed over your spine, spreading shivers, and you flushed a little when you remembered you were naked. You were naked, thighs still tacky with your release, and one of your legs was slotted between his.
“Sorry, again,” Eddie murmured as his eyes roamed over your face. “For, you know, ruining the mood and making you cry.”
You shook your head before you leaned up, pressing your lips chastely to his.
“Stop apologizing,” you said. “If anyone ruined the mood, it was me, the crybaby.”
Eddie smirked, his thumb brushing against your lower lip. “A very cute crybaby.”
You nipped at his thumb in retaliation, but when you felt his breath hitch, you flicked your thumb across the pad before drawing the whole digit into your mouth. Eddie stopped breathing completely then, and his eyes darkened as they stared intently at where your lips were wrapped around his thumb.
You sucked in briefly, hollowing your cheeks, and something twitched against your thigh from where it was wedged between his.
“Shit, Obi—” Eddie started, then hissed when you rocked your thigh into his crotch.
“I still haven’t made you feel good,” you whispered once you released his thumb with a pop. “Can I, Eddie? Please?”
“Fuck, how am I supposed to say no to that?” he groaned before he captured your mouth with his. When he pulled away, he was breathing hard, muttering against your lips as he rocked against your thigh. “Asking so sweetly, almost as sweet as you taste. Fuck, I love you, Obi. You know that, right? Tell me you know that.”
“I know, I know, love you, too,” you gasped and pressed your naked body against him, losing yourself in his kisses for a moment before you pulled away. He chased after you with a whine, but you placed your hand on his chest and pressed him back into the pillows propped up against the headboard. “But let me take care of you this time, baby.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said and then exhaled shakily as you carefully straddled his lap. “F-Fucking-- Christ, you’re so beautiful, Obi.”
“Mmmm, you, too,” you hummed and pecked a quick kiss against his lips. Then you leaned back a little, met his eyes, and took the hem of his hoodie between your fingers. “Let me see you?”
Eddie bit his lip and looked a little hesitant, but after a moment, he nodded.
You smiled and gave him another kiss. “Thank you.”
Even though he’d given you consent, you still took it slow as you worked the hoodie up over his chest and tossed it to the side. Eddie flicked his hair out of his eyes as his hands settled tentatively on your waist, and you ducked to press your lips against the tip of his nose.
“Hi, there, handsome,” you said, reveling in the slight flush that spread across his lightly freckled cheeks. You traced the spreading red hue with your lips, then your tongue, shifting as you trailed across his jaw and down his neck.
“Obi,” Eddie rasped as his fingers flexed around your waist.
“Shhhh.” You dipped your tongue into his collarbone like he had done to you earlier. “Unless you want me to stop, just lie back and let me make you feel good. Do you want me to stop, Eddie?”
“N-No, fuck, no,” he stuttered, tilting his neck back to give you more room.
You smiled against his skin and sucked a quick hickey into the base of his throat, causing him to moan, but then you pulled away and shuffled backwards so you were kneeling more over his knees than his thighs. Eddie’s fingers slipped from your waist as you sat up more fully, and you felt him stiffen slightly below you as you gazed down at his bare chest.
You were careful to keep you face completely neutral, but your heart ached inside your chest for the boy beneath you. You’d seen glimpses of him shirtless before, usually when he spilled something on himself while you two were getting high at his trailer, and he stumbled around his room half-naked to look for a semi-clean shirt. So, the long, pale expanse of his torso wasn’t necessarily new to you. You even knew all of his tattoos by heart, mostly because he loved showing them off. There were the bats, the wyvern, and the puppet master on his right arm, on his forearm, tricep, and inside of his wrist respectively. Then there was the black widow spider below his left collarbone and the skull of a demon below the spider, just above his heart.
Except both the spider and the demon were unrecognizable now.
Eddie’s chest and abdomen were covered in ropy scars, pink and knotted and barely healed. Slashes marred the tattoos on his chest, so the images were dissected and distorted. But the scars on his stomach— above his right hip and below the left side of his ribcage— were worse. These scars were more jagged, both from the demo-bats’ teeth, and from where you’d burned him with a serrated knife to cauterize his wounds. The skin there was more red than pink, and you frowned as you ghosted your fingers over the raised lines, almost but not quite touching.
“Obi?” Eddie asked, and the quiet timidness in his voice snapped you out of it.
You flicked your eyes up to find him starting at you with his lip caught between his teeth, and the tinge of fear in his eyes made your throat tight again, but you shoved it down.
“I was right,” you said instead. “Still as beautiful as ever, Munson. Truly, it’s a little unfair.”
“I-I think that’s my line, sweetheart,��� he scoffed, but a small smile tugged at his lips, so shy and endearing that you had to crawl up his body again to kiss him.
Eddie opened his mouth to your tongue, groaning when your naked body brushed against his. For a second, you were worried you’d hurt him, but then his kiss turned more bruising, and one of his hands came up to grope your breasts, tweaking at your nipple and causing you to groan this time.
“S-Shit, how are you so goddamn soft everywhere?” he gasped against your lips. “My hands must feel like f-fucking sandpaper.”
“No,” you moaned as your pressed into his left hand, his rings cold against the hot flesh of your breast. “Your hands feel s-so good… but stop distracting me, Munson.”
You pulled back and pouted at him, and before he could stop you, you started kissing your way down his neck again. This time, you didn’t stop at his collarbones, and you hovered over him reverently as you oh so softly dragged your lips over his scars.
“So handsome,” you muttered, pressing a kiss to his sternum. “So fucking handsome, baby. Love you so much. Every bit of you.”
“Fuck, O-Obi,” Eddie whimpered above you, and you felt him buck his hips.
You didn’t want to torture or overstimulate him too much, so you continued down his torso, pausing only briefly to dip your tongue into his bellybutton and run it across his happy trail. When you got to the buckle of his belt, you glanced up at him, finding him staring back at you with eyes as wild as his hair.
“Is it okay if I keep going?” you asked as you reached for his belt.
Eddie bobbed his head sporadically but then seemed to swallow and find his words. “Yes. Christ, yes, please.”
“Well, since you asked so nicely, pretty boy,” you parroted his earlier words back at him. It was supposed to be a joke, but you saw the breath hitch in his chest, and you felt his cock twitch beneath your fingers.
Oh. He seemed to like a little praise. This knowledge made you throb, and you filed it away to use later.
Instead, you focused your attention on opening his belt and jeans, and you immediately started working both his pants and boxers down his thighs. Eddie lifted his hips to help you, and after a brief tug, his cock sprang out and slapped against his belly, causing him to moan.
You quickly shoved the rest of his clothes down his legs, and Eddie kicked them off before you knelt in the V between his thighs.
“Christ,” you breathed. It was one of Eddie’s favorite words, and it was the only thing you could think of as you stared at his straining cock.
You admittedly hadn’t seen many dicks in your life, but his was by far the prettiest. Were dicks supposed to be pretty? Because his sure was. It stretched out maybe seven inches, arching towards his belly button, and the girth of it made saliva pool in your mouth. At the base sat a bush of dark brown curls even more wild than the hair on his head, and at the tip was a little mushroom cap, beading with pearly fluid.
“I-Is that a good, um, Christ?” Eddie asked nervously.
Instead of answering, you leaned down and licked up the underside of his cock, pausing at the tip to lap at his precum, and Eddie cried out, his hips leaping off the bed.
“Mmmm, you taste as good as you look, Munson,” you sighed and licked your lips. Then you shifted, positioning yourself flat on your stomach between his legs, your own kicking up into the air behind you. Eddie’s thighs tensed when you slid your hands across them, one snaking further up his pelvis to grip the base of his cock and tilt it toward you.
“Ohhhh, son of a—” Eddie whimpered as his shaft throbbed in your hand. It was warm, and softer than you imagined, and you couldn’t stop yourself from sticking out your tongue and swirling it around his head.
“I’m not exactly an expert at this, either,” you confessed, feathering a kiss under his mushroom shaped head. “So tell me if you do or don’t like something.”
“Obi,” he gritted out with his head pressed back into the pillows and his eyes tightly shut. “I can’t even fuckin’ look at you right now because I’m on the edge of losing my absolute shit. Y-You could probably just sit there like that for a minute, and it would be enough.”
“But where’s the fun in that?” You smirked, feeling high off the power you held over this man. And from the weed, too, if you were being honest.
Then, before he could say a single thing in retort, you fitted your lips over the head of his cock and sunk halfway down.
Eddie wordlessly shouted as he thrashed, and you had to use one of your hands to press his hips back into the mattress. The other you used to grip the base of his shaft, and you pumped softly as you swirled your tongue around the portion in your mouth. His skin tasted a little salty but clean, and the smell of him was more pungent here, muskier. It drove you a little crazy, and you felt drool dripping past your lips as you slowly started to bob your head.
“Fuckkkkk, Obi, holy shit, t-that feels—” Eddie broke off with a whine, and suddenly his fingers were tangling in your hair. He didn’t push your head down, though, just held you there as he twitched his hips upward, his shaft throbbing against your tongue.
After letting him shallowly thrust for a minute, you pulled back until his head popped free of your mouth, but you didn’t go far, pressing kisses to his tip and using the saliva running down his shaft to lubricate your still-pumping hand.
“God, you’re so hard, Eddie,” you muttered absently, feeling him throb between your fingers. “Does this feel good?”
“Ohhh, so good, so fucking good, you have no idea how good,” he babbled as his fingers scratched pleasantly against your scalp.
“Hmmm, excellent,” you hummed and licked at his leaking head like a lollipop. “Because I want to make you feel as incredible as you made me feel.”
“Fuck, baby, you’re already— AHH!” he cried out, voice cracking, as you suddenly took him in your mouth again and deepthroated him.
You gagged a little, eyes stinging, as he hit the back of your mouth, but your breathed in through your nose and swallowed, feeling the walls of your throat cinch around the head of his cock.
“Shit!” Eddie’s voice rose an octave, taking on a panicked pitch, and then he was suddenly, frantically, yanking at your hair. “F-Fuck, Obi! Stop, shit, stopstopstop!”
You immediately pulled your head back, his dick sliding out of your lips with a wet slurp. Your breathing was ragged as your looked up to find him in a half-seated position, his face contorted and eyes closed, and your stomach immediately churned.
“A-Are you okay?” you rasped, your voice hoarse but concerned. “Fuck, I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
You used your arms to push yourself up and away from his pelvis, until you were kneeling again between his thighs. Eddie panted as he slowly collapsed back onto your pillows, and one of his hands came up to push the damp bangs out of his face while the other flopped across his hips.
“Eddie?” you prompted when he didn’t answer, and finally he cracked open a single eye and tilted his head to look at you.
“You… didn’t hurt me,” he muttered, and he still sounded a little breathless. “I just— fuck, that felt so good, sweetheart. Too good. I, um, almost… ya know, i-in your mouth.”
“Oh.” You smiled, your concern melting away as your desire reignited. “You could have, you know. That was kind of the goal, Munson.”
Eddie exhaled shakily, and you saw his dick twitch where it laid against his stomach, still red and slick with your spit.
“Jesus Christ, don’t say stuff like that, Obi,” he breathed, and he reached down to squeeze the base of his cock. “I-I don’t want to… finish… in your mouth. This time.”
The ‘this time’ made the heat in your gut travel up into your chest, and your smile widened at the implication that he planned to do this again. Because you wanted to do it over and over, for the rest of forever. Until you got sick of it, though you didn’t think that was possible.
You’d only gotten a taste, and yet you knew you were quickly becoming addicted to Eddie Munson.
“Oh, really?” you asked with a smirk, slinking up his body until you were straddling his lap. Your pussy hovered right over his cock, but you stayed hovering above him as you met his glassy gaze. “Where do you want to finish then, Munson? What do you want?”
Eddie’s hands settled against your hips, and his eyes were wide as he gazed up at you with naked adoration etched across his face.
“I-Inside,” he stuttered and then swallowed as his fingers tightened around your hips. “God, Obi, I want to be inside you so fuckin’ bad, I— t-there’s a condom, in my jeans. Can I— let me grab it.”
“Since when have you started carrying around a condom in your pocket?” you teased.
“Since I started waking up every day with your ass pressed against my morning wood,” Eddie said, making your pussy throb, and he patted your naked thigh as he twitched beneath you. “Come on, let me up, it’ll only take a second.”
“Actually…” You bit your lip as you placed one of your hands on his sternum and gently pressed him back down into the bed. “I was thinking… y-you’re clean, since you’ve never, um, been with anyone. And I’ve only, uh, d-done this once, and I’ve been tested since then. Also, I’ve… been on birth control for years now, it helps to regulate my cyc— never mind. What I’m trying to say is we don’t need a condom… if that’s alright with you?”
You didn’t know where you found it in you to be embarrassed after everything you and Eddie had already done together, but your cheeks flushed with heat all the same. You were still hovering over Eddie’s lap, but that quickly changed when he suddenly lunged out and yanked you down onto his chest. You squeaked in surprise, barely able to catch yourself by bracing your hands on the bed beside his shoulders, but then Eddie was devouring your mouth, teeth and tongue and hands everywhere.
You moaned as his fingers skimmed up your sides, detouring to your breasts and nipples for a moment before they continued upwards to cup your face. His tongue swiped across yours one last time before he ripped himself away, and he panted against your mouth as he pressed his forehead to yours.
“That’s… holy shit, that’s so fucking hot,” he whimpered as he bucked up beneath you, and the brush of his bare dick on your wet folds punched a groan from your chest. “Obi, Christ, Obi, I need to be inside you. Fuck, please, I just— I’m gonna die if I’m not inside you in the next thirty seconds.”
“I already told you once, you’re not dying on me, Munson,” you said, snaking a hand down between your torsos to grasp the base of his cock.
Eddie whined again at your touch, but it was nothing compared to the strangled sound he made when you notched the head of his dick against your dripping cunt. You sat up a little to get the angle right, but then you paused and smiled at the tense, panting man beneath you.
“Love you, Eddie. I love you so goddamn much.”
“Fuck, I love you, too, sweetheart, I— OH!”
He broke off with a shout as you pushed your hips down, popping the head of his dick past your entrance. The stinging stretch made your eyes roll back into your head, and a guttural groan echoed up your throat as your slowly sank down, inch by inch, onto his cock.
“S-Shit, Eddie,” you whined once you sat in the cradle of his pelvis. Your walls ached and fluttered as they tried to accommodate him, and it felt like he was lodged all the way up in your chest. The first and last guy you’d been with definitely hadn’t felt like this.
“Fuckkkk,” Eddie practically sobbed out, and his nails dug into the skin of your hips, hard enough to leave bruises. But he managed to lift his head from where he’d thrown it back into the pillows, and his hazy, unfocused eyes found yours. “Christ on a fucking crutch. A-Are you okay, Obi? You’re so goddamn tight.”
“It’s cuz you’re f-fucking big,” you shot back, your voice a little breathless as you gently settled your palms against his belly, careful to avoid the worst scars. The stretch of him inside you still ached a little bit, but it was beginning to fade, and you slowly rocked your hips against his.
You moaned at the dual sensation of him moving inside your pussy while his pubes tickled your clit, and Eddie cursed again as his fingers clamped down around your waist.
“Wait, s-stop, stop,” he suddenly hissed, and you froze above him, lifting your hands off his stomach.
“Sorry, did I—” you started to ask, but Eddie quickly shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut.
“No, you just feel too goddamn good. Again.” Eddie laughed shakily before he took a deep breath and let it out slow. Then he opened his eyes, and he smiled up at you sheepishly. “Sorry. You’re just… so fuckin’ beautiful, and I’m on a virgin hair trigger here, and—”
“Eddie, it’s okay,” you cut him off with a smile, reaching down to pry one of his hands off your hips so you could press a kiss to his fingers. “You have nothing to apologize for. Do you feel good right now?”
“Good doesn’t even fuckin’ scratch the surface, sweetheart,” he breathed out, and when you released his hand, it immediately fell to one of your breasts, brushing over your nipple. “This is quite literally the best goddamn day of my life. Don’t know how it could get better from here.”
“I think I have an idea.” You smirked before you leaned down and slanted your mouth over his, rolling your hips in the process.
Eddie’s groan was muffled by your tongue, and you whimpered along with him as you lifted a few inches up his shaft before sitting right back down. You swirled your hips with him rooted deep inside you, and his hands ghosted up your spine, pressing you against him.
The two of you rocked together as you kissed, but you needed air eventually, so you tore your lips away, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder as you gasped for breath.
With his lips free, Eddie took to babbling, and every word out of his mouth just made you drip and clench around his cock.
“O-Oh, fuck, baby, you feel sooo good, so goddamn good. So wet and-- Fuck! Squeezing me so tightly. Christ, you’re driving me insane, I can’t even t-think. My brain is on fucking fire-- god! Obi. S-Shit, Obi, w-wait. I’m sorry, wait, waitwait.”
You froze midroll and whimpered as his cock brushed that special spot inside you. Eddie panted as he clutched you to him, but after a moment, he slowly relaxed into the sheets, and you carefully propped yourself up on your hands.
“Sorry,” Eddie muttered as he blinked up at you.
“I told you, you have nothing to apologize for,” you reminded him with a smile, but he still looked so contrite, so you clenched around him, rising up a little and sinking back down so he could hear the wet noises coming from between your bodies. “Hear that? That’s because you turn me on so much, Ed. You’re the one making me so wet. I could probably just sit here on your cock and cum without either of us moving. That’s how good you feel inside me.”
“Goddamn it, Obi,” he gritted out as he clenched his eyes shut again, his hands clutching at the top of your thighs. “I’m trying not to cum here, and you’re not helping.”
“But I want you to cum,” you said, sitting up fully and starting to rock on his cock again. From this angle, you could almost feel him in the back of your throat, and you tossed your head back as you settled your palms against his belly and rode him in slow but deep movements. “I, ah, want you to cum deep inside me, pretty boy. Want— fuck, want to feel it.”
“Oh, shit,” Eddie hissed and bared his teeth. Then his hands wrapped around your hips again, guiding you a little bit faster. “S-Shit. I— Can you cum again? Wanna feel you cum on my cock. Fuck, I want that so bad. What can I do?”
“Touch me,” you gasped. The coil in your gut was tightening again, wound tighter and tighter by the insistent press of his cock deep inside you.
“Y-Yeah, yeah, I can do that,” he groaned, shifting his left hand from your hip, and the cold bite of his metal rings against your heated and swollen clit made you cry out.
“Eddie!” You jolted further up his cock than you had been, and you were so slick that you just slid right back down, your ass meeting his pelvis with a wet slap. The head of his cock knocked against something inside you that made you see stars, and suddenly you were bouncing on his dick, rapid and wild, your eyes rolling back into your head.
“Fuck! Oh, god, oh, Christ, O-Obi, Obi, I’m— shit, I’m cumming.” Eddie’s voice rose into a high-pitched whine, his fingers and rings blindly bumping against your clit, his hips bucking off the bed to meet yours. “I’m cumming, fuck, cum with me, cum with me, baby, please!”
“Yes, cum inside me!” you sobbed as he snapped his hips up into yours, and your third orgasm of the night hit you like a freight train. “Eddie!”
You felt his cock thob in the tight clutch of your walls moments before you were filled with the warmth of his cum, and the sensation heightened your own climax. Your whole body spasmed, lightning in every nerve, and you only distantly felt Eddie tug you down onto his chest, his tongue invading your mouth, his sobs and curses muffled by your lips.
The two of you rolled and writhed against each other as you rode out your climaxes, but eventually your thighs burned too much, so you just collapsed limp on Eddie’s chest while he thrust up into you a few more times. You whimpered from oversensitivity and the aftershocks of your orgasm, and your brain felt like slush between your ears when Eddie finally gasped, shuddered, and stilled beneath you.
A long moment stretched by in silence as you both caught your breath and returned to your bodies, but Eddie was the first to stir, his hand feathering up your spine. It tickled slightly, so you involuntarily clenched, and then you both groaned as you tightened around his softening cock.
“Fuckkkkkk.” Eddie laughed, his chest rumbling beneath you, and his palm pressed flat between your shoulder blades. “That was… holy shit. I… I think I might have died. I think this might actually be heaven.”
“Why do you keep trying to die on me?” you grumbled as you lifted your head off his shoulder and pouted at him.
“’M not trying to, baby.” Eddie smiled and cupped your cheek, but then he bit his lip, his dark-brown eyes searching your face. “Was that… okay… for you?”
You blinked at him. And then again. “Munson. Did you not just make me cum three times?”
He blushed, but his smile was equal parts sheepish and proud. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I did.”
“Damn right you did,” you sighed, wincing as a cramp started up in your thigh. “But, um, I need to… dismount now. Leg cramp.”
“Oh, shit, yeah, let me—” Eddie paused and glanced down at where you were still connected, and then his eyes darted from side to side, searching. “My shirt, I—”
“Too slow,” you groaned, and you pulled up without warning.
His half flaccid cock slid out of you with a wet sound, and both of you whined. You could feel something start to trickle out of you and onto your inner thigh, but you just flopped onto your back, Eddie scooting over to make room for you against the headboard.
“Sorry,” you hissed as you stretched your legs out, pointing your toes. “Couldn’t wait. Damn Charlie horse.”
“Want me to rub it?” Eddie asked, and he shifted partially onto his side next to you.
“No, it’s fading, I’m okay,” you sighed, relaxing into the bed and turning your head to look at him. But he wasn’t looking at you. No, his eyes were glued to the inside of your thighs, and when you followed his gaze, you blushed. Your skin was wet, glistening in the light of the bed side lamp, and you could feel more wetness seeping out of you and onto the covers.
Oh, well. You needed to wash the sheets anyway. Thankfully, you had spares for tonight.
“Eddie,” you muttered when he just kept staring, and you tried to close your legs, but he suddenly reached out and stopped you, his fingertips pressing into the tacky skin of your thighs.
“No, wait… can I…” He trailed off as he glanced at you, and you wanted to tell him no, were already squirming with embarrassment, but you found yourself nodding yes.
Yes to whatever he wanted.
Eddie smiled before he scootched down the bed a little, and then he was pressing your thighs open, his fingers brushing against your sopping folds and spreading them apart.
“Fuck,” he breathed as he gaped at your swollen pussy, and you moaned, walls fluttering, pushing out another glob of his cum. “Goddamn, you look…”
He trailed off again, and you felt his thumb swipe up your slit, collecting his cum, before he slotted it back inside you.
“Ah!” you gasped, the sound transforming into a moan and then a whimper. You closed your thighs around his wrist and arched your back, trying to scoot away. “Eddie, s-sensitive.”
“Oops, sorry.” He immediately withdrew his thumb, but he paused a moment to inspect the slick glint of your combined juices on his skin.
You reached for his hand without thinking, meeting his wide eyes as you pulled his thumb to your mouth. Gently, you wrapped your lips around him, swiping your tongue over the pad of his digit. The taste was salty and tangy but not bad, and your eyelashes fluttered a little as you hollowed your cheeks.
When you released him, Eddie exhaled sharply, like he’d been holding his breath, and then he was swooping down to kiss you again. His tongue stabbed into your mouth, chasing the remnants of your combined flavors, and you moaned as you wrapped your arms around his neck and tugged him down to lie half on top of you.
“Whoa,” Eddie laughed against your lips. Then he pulled away to stabilize himself so he didn’t fall off the bed or crush you. “Careful there, Obi. I might trip, fall, and end up with my dick inside you again.”
You giggled at the corny joke and pecked another kiss against the corner of his mouth. “I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”
“You are so evil,” Eddie groaned as he wrapped his arms around you, trapping your own against his chest. “Evil, evil Obi.”
“Muhahaha,” you murmured sleepily, settling against him. But then your eyes fluttered open, and you saw the scars inches away from your nose. Tentatively, you traced your fingertips down the pink, ropy tissue, and when Eddie tensed slightly, you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the remnants of his spider tattoo. “I didn’t hurt you, though, did I?”
“Princess, what you made me feel was the opposite of pain,” Eddie sighed and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You made me feel… fucking fantastic. Is it weird if I thank you? Because I feel like I should thank you. You know what, I’m doing it. Thank you, Obi. Thank you for rocking my goddamn world.”
“You’re welcome.” Giggling, you pressed another kiss to another scar. “And thank you, Munson. I… I love you.”
“Fuck, I love you, too,” he breathed as he placed his fingers under your chin and tilted your face up. His lips brushed over your so sweetly, and his opposite hand traced idle patterns against the bare skin of your back.
When he pulled back, he was smiling that smile you loved so much— the one that crinkled the lines around his eyes and made his dimples stand out— and there was a hint of mischief in his chocolate brown eyes.
“Now, what do you say to us rolling another joint, raiding your kitchen, and going round two?” Eddie smirked.
“I think…” you said with a smile, tickling your fingers against his chest until he giggled and pulled back. “That you better hurry up and get rolling, Munson.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned and smacked another kiss against your lips before clambering out of bed.
You laughed at his overexaggerated hurried pace, the way he kept glancing at the clock on your nightstand with increasing faux-worry. He somehow managed to roll another joint without spilling anything, and you felt your breath hitch a little as you watched him lick it closed.
Yeah, you were definitely addicted to Eddie Munson now.
But you didn’t really see the problem with that.
#eddie munson#eddie munson/you#eddie munson x you#eddie munson/reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson/f!reader#eddie munson x f!reader#eddie munson/female reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson/fem!reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fix it fic#eddie munson survives#fanfic#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#my writings
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
First off, love your writing, IT MAKES ME FEEL THINGS😭😭 but…
Can we please get more of yandre emo boy Ashton I JUST READ IT AND IM DROOLING SCREAMING CRYING GIGGLING AMD KICKING MY FEET😭🧎♀️🤪🧎♀️🧎♀️
THANK YOU❤️❤️🤭🤭🤭
(If not that’s okay, ignore this bae🫶)
Yandere! Stereotypical! Emo and his beloved popular bitch
Ayo, thank you for the compliment! I'm glad my writings made you feel things (I don't know what though LMAO)
Actually, I'm not planning to follow up Ashton, but hey, at least it would break my writer's block (lol it's just laziness) so here ya go!
Sorry that it took days though 😔
FOR THIS ONE, I RECOMMEND READING THE FIC FIRST BEFORE THE DRABBLE (this one).
Read the yandere emo fic here!
💌Little Ashton was misunderstood a lot as a child. He never really liked the same things the other children liked, and he had this morbid curiosity with death and occult.
💌Of course, this undoubtedly scared his family, making him out to be some sort of psychopath.
💌This irked Ashton of course. He's just... That. He still loves his parents, and nothing would change that.
💌But the fact that they're so conservative that it's actually bringing Ashton down is what drove him over the edge to find a school far, far away from his family.
💌A small, quaint town, yet filled with teenagers. It was kind of a nightmare when Ashton found out, but he gritted his teeth and thought that maybe, with the current years, maybe they won't judge him. Maybe.
💌So, he indulged more in his Emo lifestyle. He religiously listened to green day, Panic! At the Disco, My Chemical Romance...
💌He even got into writing poems as a way to put out his feelings that he never got to tell other people.
💌 He's actually very sensitive with emotions and feelings. So technically, he should be a great friend candidate, right?
💌But once he got into the school year, that's when he knew, that his life would be living hell. Stereotypes left and right. Mean cheerleaders and jocks that ostracized his choice of clothing, snobby rich students that turn their noses on him just because he's not that rich, geeks and nerds that keeps getting in his way, thinking he's one of them.
💌"Fuck. Get me out of here. Nobody understands me."
💌He didn't realize himself, but he's also slowly being a stereotype. Always alone, writing poems, and being unnecessarily nihilistic.
💌Until of course, one day, you transfered. You, your pink rover, and your slutty little outfit.
💌God, just looking at you and your charming personality made Ashton hard fall for you.
💌He wants you. So bad.
💌So he dabbled back into the occults. He found an old book in an abandoned "witch's hut" that he went on a mad hunt for weeks. Apparently, the witch that lived there was a matchmaker witch, who gave love potions to those really desperate.
💌At first, Ashton didn't believe it. Especially that it involves sampaguita, a flower not native to his town. How did the witch even get the flowers?
💌But there he was, mixing and creating the potion under the moonlight and putting your hair and his in the pot. Creating a love potion that smelled like the sampaguitas he had to smuggle in.
💌He wrote you letters everyday, obsessing and hyper fixating on your allure and beauty. Confessing over and over again on paper that looks old and aged with writing that looks like it came from a fountain pen. With a spritz of the love potion, he would put it in your locker.
💌God, who knew that it would work?
💌Day by day, he watched you read the letters. At first, you were disgusted (much to his dismay) but slowly, you started to read the letters with a neutral face, then a smile, then with a squeal and then a desperate plea for him to come and fuck you already.
💌Maybe putting his... Semen on your love potion got you desperate for him carnally, rather than romantically.
💌But no fretting, he would just make you fall for him.
💌And as you moan and scream out his name as he pounds into your tight hole like the feral, fuck machine he is,
💌He was pleading to the moon to see his bleeding heart and bare soul to make you his.
💌And if the moon won't allow it,
💌Well, it's nothing more love potions won't do.
💌"my beloved, why don't you drink this sweet tea I made? Why is it pink and smells floral? It's a new tea from Japan. Sakura, from what I know. It's glowing? Nonsense, love. It's probably just the lighting."
💌"Now drink up, don't let a drop go to waste."
#yandere boyfriend#yandere imagines#yandere male#yandere writing#male yandere x reader#tw yandere#yandere x darling#yandere x you#yandere fic#yandere drabbles#lizzaneiaelizalde
200 notes
·
View notes
Text
comparing the writing in the first film overall with the writing of the Third so people can Hopefully see what my problem is with TBT.
first off lets start with the two films big emotional music numbers that are meant to showcase meaningful character Growth that being "" True Colours ""
youtube
youtube
and "" Better Place "" now the main Difference between these two is that despite what some negative reviews of the first film said at the time Branch's character Arc wasn't literally just wrapped up in this one song like Bro zone's was in TBT.
True Colours was the climax to Branch's arc but it wasn't literally the only piece of Branch's arc throughout the film we had small hints under his uncaring exterior that he was actually a good guy who just wasn't good at showing it.
like the fact he saved Poppy from those spiders and when he tried to help her come to terms with Creek's supposed death even if his way wasn't 100 percent perfect.
and of course after finally opening up about his grandmother he showed more signs of trying to change for the better helping Bridget by giving her his love poem to say to Gristle Jr.
afterwards attempting to join in on the Snack Pack's happy screaming over Creek still being alive and even pulling a little High five Joke on Poppy showing clear effort of attempts to change beforehand.
he also attempted to comfort Poppy and the others when they opened the locket and Creek was gone and they assumed he was dead and all this leading to True Colours which was the big moment for his Arc.
Bro zone didn't have any of this before hand instead all their moments prior to Better Place are either them being Jerky or its mostly comedic gags with not real flashes of posotive character moments for them that could help with their Arc.
anyway back to True Colours despite technically getting what he said he wanted at the start of the film ( that being for the other pop Trolls to finally stop seeing the world as all cupcakes and Rainbows and finally see the Dark sides of things )
he was actually disheartened to see them all this way and worked to help them get out of this state which he was all too familiar with.
anyway one thing that makes True Colours work better than Better Place imo is
1. Branch still has agency in the choice their all about to die and well his choice to try and lift up the other people's spirits doesn't effect that at all.
I find it very powerful how he still chooses to be happy in that moment and tries to lift the spirits of everyone around him despite the fact that for all he knows his worst fear is about to come true their all about to be eaten by Bergens aka the very thing he's spent most of his life terrified of.
but with Better Place his Bros don't have agency so it isn't a meaningful character moment their literally imprisoned and forced to take part in the Harmony in order to save their own lives its not even just about Floyd anymore.
its sorta like if Branch only sang True Colours to lift everyone's spirits because he needed them to all have access to their longer Hair Powers so they could lift the lid on top of the cooking pot in order for them to escape.
kinda lessens the impact of the scene a bit doesn't it? 🤔🤔🤔🤔
and as I said before True Colours would be a cute scene on its own but if it was literally the only scene that was meant to show Branch's character Arc and growth then yeah it would still fall flat imo but it isn't because the movie made sure to have lots of other little moments.
showing Branch making the effort beforehand so True Colours was just the final result and not literally the only action taken in his Arc.
unlike Better Place where
1. the Bros Agency was taken away so they literally did the Harmony for selfish reasons and
2. it was the only moment meant to show their character Growth which just isn't how character Arcs work.
you don't get to have characters showcase a whole bunch of flaws and frankly crappy behaviour and then have their Arc be wrapped up with a single action that isn't even all that noble no character Arc works that way.
the writing of the first film understood this and did a Fair amount of it Right but TBT didn't understand this at all.
I'm not an Expert writer but this is all fairly Basic stuff so yeah. 🤷♂️🤷♂️🤷♂️🤷♂️🤷♂️🤷♂️
#Youtube#trolls#trolls branch#trolls brothers#trolls band together#trolls bro zone#trolls brozone#trolls 2016#Trolls#Trolls Branch#Trolls Bro zone#dreamworks trolls#dreamworks trolls 3
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
It is time to reward the bravery of the Ring Bearers and Bilbo is summoned to the Forges of Aulë.
A little tribute to the @fellowshipofthefics discord, I'm not exactly a Hobbit girlie but writing Bilbo is always a delight and you guys are always so kind.
Some Bagginshield flavours. Taking some liberties with canon because I can.
Bilbo had a very confusing day. If one could say so. It all started after his second breakfast when the Lady Galadriel came to visit him and Frodo- oh and what a breakfast it had been, Bilbo could not prove it but the quality of food in the Undying Lands really was outstanding. Frodo had even said so last time when they had taken a stroll in their garden. It had been a beautiful day with a blue sky and a crisp autumn wind. Bilbo loved the golden trees so very much.
But he was saying, ah yes. A very confusing day indeed. The Lady Galadriel had been accompanied by her husband the Lord Celeborn, a kind fella who answered a lot of Bilbo's questions about the technicalities of one of his Sindarin translation of a poem he had found in the library in Rivendell. Bilbo might even finish his work on this before the moon came full again. The Lord and his Lady had drank tea with them but refused any food - elves were strange like that, even so he might have to clarify they were indeed less strange than the others inhabitants of said mystical Lands. And indeed Bilbo had met some of them, as strange as they were. Looking like Elves or Men for most but Bilbo was no fool and could see the very much established otherness shining through their raiments.
Oh he was very fond of Gandalf indeed, and so glad his friend was there even though he was called Olórin here and that sounded too strange to Bilbo and so he kept calling him Gandalf because that was what his friend's name was for him.
So well today he was meeting another ! Ah yes for it was the purpose of the Lady Galadriel's visit. He was told to meet in Valmar - the city of many bells! Oh Bilbo was very excited indeed, Tírion he had visited often and often remained in the Palace's library - so many books ! So much knowledge. He felt a young hobbit again. Looked like one for that purpose too. Strange Lands indeed.
It had been peculiar that Frodo's presence was - if welcomed - not strictly mandatory and his nephew informed he would not mind staying home. Sometimes Frodo would simply stay and sleep. Ah, Bilbo could not blame him.
So he had gone. With the Lady and the Lord. To Valmar. The city of Maiar. The beings that were like Gandalf. And like another one whose name was not to be said too much because it seemed to greatly vexed many. Bilbo still had questions about his ring though. Ah well. He had packed a healthy elevenses and lunch (as well as other snacks, one could not be too cautious after all.)
Valmar stood proud and glorious, even outshining his most anticipated imaginings. The Lady and her husband seemed to know their way and up they went to a hill where a large building stood, decorated with many banners Bilbo recognised as Manwë's heraldry. The Elder King. Bilbo had never met him in person.
But it had not been the King awaiting him but his Herald. Standing tall and proud, Eönwë always seemed vexed, to Bilbo's humble opinion, there was a solemn expression on his face but the corners of his eyes had that tightness that Gandalf sometimes had with him in their younger years, when he seemed particularly exasperated by something Bilbo would do or say. Which was unfair because Bilbo had always been a delight. According to his good opinion of himself at least.
Eönwë was slightly intimidating though, in the way Ainur were - well aside Gandalf, but he was weird. He had been the one welcoming Frodo and Bilbo when they had reached the White Shores, making a grand speech with fancy words Bilbo had tried to pay attention too - he had been very hungry at that time! Now Bilbo wanted to ask him all sorts of questions.
This time and because he had been chewing on one of his snacks just before, he heard the words said and nodded when he was asked if he understood.
Well Bilbo was not stupid thank you very much. He was told to go with Eönwë to Aulë's forges - the Elder King had ruled on a decree, it was to be a formal thank you to the Ring Bearers, Frodo and Bilbo and Bilbo's award was different than his nephew and so he had to go to the Forges.
Why? He asked and asked again but every answer was similar to the way Gandalf would sometimes answer his queries, riddles that only made sense if you were a strange wizard.
Eönwë said not much actually, he monotously told Bilbo he would fly them here, the Lady and Lord were met with a polite bow and to pass his greeting to the Lady's father. And then off they went.
Flying! Oh Bilbo had once flew on the back of a Great Eagle! How amazing it had been. Ah. He missed these times. Now gone with the long years of his life but never regretted once.
He inquired on the method of transportation, to which the Herald wordlessly replied by opening large silver wings attached to his back. Bilbo had seen many wonders in his life but being carried by a winged person - not a great Eagle! Oh what a joy to be alive! The trip did not take long but it certainly made Bilbo hungry again and he told Eönwë so when they landed in front of a towering building where a cacophony of hammers hiting metal could he heard.
That seemed to confuse the Maia as he stood awkwardly by Bilbo's side while he sat down on the stair to unpack a loaf of bread, some honey, nuts, cheese and berries.
All better he decided after finishing eating. The polite thing to do had been to offer some to Eönwë but that seemed to make the Maia even less at ease. Strange strange creatures indeed. Ah well. More for him then.
Eönwë informed him they didn't eat - there was no need apparently and Bilbo thought that maybe that was why he looked not exactly really happy. Maybe Sauron would have been less evil if he too had some food once in a while. Bilbo could not imagine living his life without and would have certainly shared some of his snacks in exchange for seeing his ring once more.
The Halls were immense, even by a tall person standard but Bilbo could not help but stare at everything, there were wonders hung on the walls, resplendent armours exhibited, swords of ancient times, mundane objects, fountains, ingenious mechanism, clocks. What a lively place!
An imposing shape came to them, bushy red beard and golden eyes, a sturdy leather apron tied around his waist. Aulë welcomed both of them, his voice booming in the high ceiling.
"Welcome!" And said other things to them to Eönwë in what he learned to be Valarin. What a delightful language to try learning! So complicated and challenging. The Lady Galadriel had told him only one Elve ever mastered it and Bilbo was confused to learn he was not there. Oh yes he needed to finish the records of the First Age about the House of Fëanor and his sons.
That reminded him Frodo had mentioned something interesting the other evening during dinner. They had had a delicious potage from the gardens' vegetables - carrots, butternut, potatoes and garlic.
Oh, but he should focus on the conversation.
He asked Lord Aulë - or Lord Mahal if he knew the engineering behind Sting, his and Frodo's beloved sword.
"It grew blue when orcs were near."
Aulë seemed delighted with Bilbo's following questions, so many new things to learn that Bilbo did not immediately register when they entered a smithy, and another person was standing there.
A discreet cough had been what refocused him on his surroundings, finding Eönwë standing near...a dwarf.
Bilbo blinked. Once. Twice. Oh. Almost swoon.
Oh.
"I see you haven't lost your constant chatter." Thorin remarked and Bilbo would possibly need a seat soon if he could have one, yes thank you, ah.
"A prerogative of mine own creations." Aulë said. Eönwë explained this was Bilbo's gift. From the King.
Bilbo possibly would have said something if he had not been busy gaping and then sniffling and then- ah a hug felt nice, very nice indeed. He hadn't had such a nice hug in so long.
"You need to meet Frodo." He said amongst other things and "Oh Gandalf will be joyful to see you again." And "I need to tell you about the Ring I found." And "I'm so happy." And so many words that would take too long to record in pages for some feelings could only be felt. He would write them down though.
There and back again. Ah yes, very nice indeed.
#bilbo baggins#eonwe#eönwë#aule#aulë#thorin x bilbo#bagginshield#the hobbit#the hobbit fic#cassy.write
45 notes
·
View notes
Text
Okay random ramblings bout the aeons in the divinity au, the feelings/aura/sensations around them, their general vibes and their relation to sampo/aha:
Aha:
The Elation is. Obviously. About joy and happiness and revelry. But the Elation is more than that: its the extremes of emotion, absolute tragedy and bone chilling rage. Its being overwhelmed by feelings and sensations and stimulation. Its the chaos of thrills and suffering and all emotions spawned by consciousness.
As aha, they technically can experience emotions much more than most other aeons. But unlike mortals, they experience everything at once. Joy/elation is obviously the overwhelming majority, but everything else is muddled together that it becomes vague. They seek thrills and constantly fight boredom to keep joy as the reigning emotion.
(Thats why as sampo he gets. Confused by feelings and doesnt get it. Anything other than excitment or elation is something else entirely. grief or nostalgia or anger or love or jealousy, its strange. As a human, he experiences emotions individually and simply, which makes it more... precise. Its sharp and direct.)
Aha is laughter, drunken singing, tragic comedies and bells and drums and every instrument and orchestras and people preaching into crowds. They're frilly clothing and theatre masks and splatters of paint and childrens toys and buttons and whistles and confetti. (They also like birds a lot lately)
Would create puppets to see through so theyd go watch plays and movies and concerts. If they liked them a lot they'd keep the show to themself, stealing it from everyone's minds and making it so it no longer exists for anyone but them.
Aha is the most sociable with all other aeons. They send out 'messages' to other aeons constantly. Only Qlipoth responds.
Aha's 'messages' are usually limericks, poems, songs, highly emotional words that echo out in frequencies only Aeons can feel/hear
Aha particularly likes qlipoth because they can put up with a lot of aha's shit before getting pissed. They have a weird morbid interest in Nous and tries to make Nous talk in something other than questions. Aha also likes poking at Lan and then running from The Hunt
(No wonder Sampo delights in the chase, almost getting caught by gepard time and time again)
Qlipoth:
Ancient and so massive they makes Aha look like an ant. Theyrepowerful and so, so overwhelming. Their presence even affects other Aeons; theyre a constant feeling of pressure, like youre buried under mountains or at the bottom of the ocean. Aha is largely immune because they visits qlipoth a lot and they just powered through the pressure
Qlipoth likes? Aha. At least as much as qlipoth is capable of liking anyone. Aha doesn't know why, but its because exactly 3489 amber eras ago Aha started stacking cool rocks and meteors they found on the celestial wall and altho they meant it as a game to see how many rocks they could stack before qlipoth got annoyed qlipoth took it as Aha helping build the wall. And qlipoth Never Forgets
Qlipoth existed before emotions, before consciousness. They existed when the universe was dark matter and atoms pushing against one another and stars barely shining. When there was nothing but rock. Theyre not alive, not conscious. They just Are.
They harbours a strange sense of protectiveness for Aha. It might be because Aha is the only glimpse of emotion they get. They dont feel much beyond a need to build the wall when aha isnt around, and the messages aha sends are like little tastes of feeling they indulge in.
Qlipoths 'messages' are never in words or anything straight forward. Its entirely a sensation, a nudge, a pressure, a rumble across the cosmos. (Normally Aha can take qlipoth's messages no problem. But now that he's sampo, qlipoth's messages sometimes bring him to his knees.)
Qlipoth is substance, they are insurmoumtable, theyre physical form and matter itself. They are bigger than anything humans can imagine, made up of the first material from the creation of the universe, metals that no longer exist, planets and astroids and celestial bodies
Lan:
Lan was human once and rose up from the Xianzhou due to his absolute unwavering desire to destroy the Abundance; unlike aha, he very much remembers being human before his ascension
He is narrowed down to a specific, narrow focus on destroying the Abundance. He's the rage and anger and bloodlust of humanity condensed into that one goal. Unlike Aha his form is not nearly as vague, he's a large endlessly moving centaur and everything he does is deliberate and with precision.
Doesnt give a shit or even consider anything else or any of the other aeons. As long as they don't get in lan's way
Second to Aha and akivili, probably closest to humanity. Rage and revenge are all he is now, but its still very human of him.
The aeon of the hunt is focus, its bloodlust and rage and suffering sharpened onto a deadly point. The Hunt is wind and speed, the path of a predator.
Lan hates Aha but also long as they dont get in his way they dont bother with aha. Unfortunately aha loves pushing Lan's buttons, poking and prodding until Lan snaps and rains arrows at Aha.
Aha doesn't realize it, but they are capable of instilling emotions in other Aeons and especially aha just by being around the elation. Lan hates it, hates being shaken from his narrow desire to destroy Yaoshi by feelings of annoyance and frustration and even sometimes amusement that Aha causes him.
Lan doesnt send messages across the cosmos and he ignores any that Aha sends to him. But if he did it would be a direct shot, instantaneous, a sentence or even single world like a punch.
Frankly, Lan could probably strike Aha down in one shot or at least wound and scatter them. The few times Lan gives in to Aha's badgering and hunts them down he doesnt try nearly as hard as he could. If Lan actually gave in to Aha's presence and the emotions they reawaken, Lan would realize he actually enjoys their cat and mouse games.
(When Aha causes some weird shit, like infinitely duplicating bodies or worms that stretch infinitely, they always Always call to Lan and pin the blame on Yaoshi. Lam isnt stupid, he knows its not the abundance and Aha just getting Lan to clean up his messes, but Lan does it anyways)
#honkai star rail#sampo#only tags ill do#divinity au#was gonna talk bout nous too but its long already#this is kinda like a guide for myself agskdbdgdk#god. i love the aeons#in the bones#ive always held the hc that aha isnt Just elation but rather the extremes of emotions#in psychological terms he's heightened arousal#because physiologically theres not much difference between excitement and fear and rage
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
Time and Grief in Eternal Yesterday
Eternal Yesterday (Eien no Kinou) is an astonishing show. It is one of the most visceral explorations of grief, letting the audience sit with the feeling of it, that I have seen on screen for a long time. I especially loved how it explored the experience of time while grieving.
Grief alters time. It changes your internal sense of time. It takes you out of equilibrium with everyone who is not experiencing grief with you. The world moves on. People move on. People forget. The clocks don't stop despite our pleas. Grief bisects time; events become labeled Before and After. Everything reorients around it.
This disorientation of time is what Eternal Yesterday conveys so powerfully, both in its magical realism conceit and in its technical structure and pacing.
First, I would also like to talk about a poem. @bengiyo also shared a phenomenal poem by Shane Koyczan in this wonderful post about this show which I have been thinking about and listening to again and again (reading by the poet here, transcript here). While I was watching, I had another poem ringing in my head. I think there is something about grief that is often best captured in the sparseness of poetry for me personally, and in that way Eternal Yesterday feels a bit like a poem, and echoes these poems.
Recently, I have been reading Victoria Chang's poetry book Obit, which frames her grief over her mother's death and her father's illness as deconstructed obituaries.
The difference is called grieving. I think this is the space that Eternal Yesterday occupies. It uses magical realism to forcibly extend the period before reality and grief can fully set in. Mitsuru is desperately clinging to the moment of before, when Koichi hasn't actually died yet, because once he leaves that moment he can't go back.
In the moments before the truck driver comes and sees the body, Mitsuru is in a state of denial, an impossible version of events in which Koichi survived the impact and being thrown in the air for meters, even though all the evidence points to his death. He calls his name, expecting him to just wake up. The truck driver's reaction cements the truth of his death that Mitsuru could not even let himself imagine in those first few moments. There's a moment where we can see the flicker of horrific recognition on Mitsuru's face. But then Koichi starts moving again, and Mitsuru is once again in an impossible reality where Koichi can survive as the living dead, a miracle. Eternal Yesterday effectively resets the timeline to the moments before the death becomes real for Mitsuru.
The rest of the story takes place within that moment, but elongates the stage of denial. It takes place outside of time. Koichi's body has disregarded time, the doctor tells them. It is staving off all actual evidence of decay, but it doesn't erase the damage that has already been done and the bruises and cuts remain as a terrible reminder. This really effective element of body horror forces the audience and the characters to sit in a very specific moment in time; this is not a ghost who has cast earthly wounds aside, nor a zombie who continues to decay. Koichi and Mitsuru are trapped in the moment of death, the eternal yesterday. Mitsuru isn't ready to let go yet, and neither is Koichi.
The drawn out nature of this undeath contrasts with how suddenly Koichi dies. Instantaneous (I think again of Koyczan's poem). There is no way for the characters to anticipate this death. Compare this to Mitsuru's mother, who was chronically ill, dying in a hospital away from her son in an attempt to insulate him from grief. But despite her prolonged illness and her distance from Mitsuru, it doesn't seem like Mitsuru was really able to process his loss, just creating a wall around it to protect himself. With Koichi's undeath, they get that extra time together, and maybe that helps in some ways. As @waitmyturtles writes, they get to spend those final moments together, knowingly, intentionally, in a way that Mitsuru only got with his mom after her death when he saw her ghost. The magic gives them back these moments.
At the beginning, it seems as if time has stopped for everyone around them as well, but slowly people start to not be able to see Koichi. They begin to move on, and forget. Koichi seems to have reconciled with this fact: "If you die, you're slowly forgotten. It's normal. The living are busy thinking of other living people." Mitsuru is angry at the thought that anyone could forget about Koichi, and that the signs of their forgetfulness are proof that Koichi is getting closer and closer to disappearing.
This is such a beautiful metaphor for how it feels to grieve someone when the rest of the world keeps spinning. Time has stopped for Mitsuru, but not for all his classmates, even though they cared for Koichi too. It's a cruel truth. Time starts to speed up again as Koichi begins to disappear in front of others, but Mitsuru is still clinging to him.
Mitsuru holds onto Koichi with both fists. There's anger behind his denial of Koichi's death. He repeatedly tries to remind Koichi that he's still alive, gets angry when he's referred to as dead, and when people can't see Koichi any more.
But it is Mitsuru's love that sustains Koichi for this long, and his unwillingness to let go of his memory. It seems like love itself is what keeps Koichi here. Even when he disappears for most people, Mitsuru and Koichi's family still see him. Even after Koichi truly dies, when he stops being a living corpse, we see that his memory does live on in Mitsuru, and in the lives of the other people who loved him. The teacher who sent Mitsuru a photograph that shouldn't exist. Koichi's friends and family continuing to honor and remember him, and staying in contact with Mitsuru.
@gillianthecat writes beautifully about Japanese dramas and the use of place and space. There's a quietness and a stillness often. Eternal Yesterday echoes this, and in some ways turns time into a place, anchoring the drama to a liminal threshold, the pause that allows Mitsuru and Koichi to process what has happened.
Koichi and Mitsuru's story takes place outside of time. The editing and structure of the show also interrupts the linearity of time. Multiple times we are shown the end of a scene, and then shown its beginning scenes or even episodes later. The show revisits scenes, recontextualizes them, like when they get back from the hospital and Koichi admits he's scared that he's a corpse; the teachers in the stairwell we later learn were found in the aftermath of their breakup. Koichi is hit by the truck in the very opening of the show, but we don't see all of it until the end of the episode and the beginning of the next. Through this editing, the show destabilizes time, and calls into question our perception of events.
It also does this with the opening and closing credits. Each episode grounds the audience at the start in a joyful past that the characters can never return to, and at the end in an impossible future that they will never see ("If we were adults, would we be making a toast and drinking beer?"). The show oscillates between these two endpoints, and they put the viewer off balance for what to expect. But at the close of the show, we see the camping scene recontextualized. Mitsuru is alone, but he still has pieces of Koichi with him. The false insinuation of a happy ending is replaced with bittersweet reality.
How long does it take to grieve someone? Does it ever stop? Their teacher is still mourning his boyfriend's death 20 years later. Mitsuru is shown grieving 5 years after Koichi's death. He tells us his sadness never went away. The experience of grief is different with that distance, but it doesn't disappear. The show invites us to sit in a specific moment of that grief, but it shows us also how it continues afterwards.
Koichi's death is drawn out, the stage of denial extended, but eventually time catches up with both of them. Koichi knows it ("My time is almost up"). Mitsuru begins to understand it ("Isn't it just a matter of time?"). The day Mitsuru's home sick, "the time felt too long." The dissonance between this piece of time that they have carved out for themselves and the reality of time's continual passage becomes impossible to ignore.
Koichi lingering as a living corpse gives both him and Mitsuru a bit more time together. Even if it's just a few days, there's beauty in that. Because of that time, Koichi gets to hold his newborn sister. He gets to be a part of that moment with his family. Koichi and Mitsuru get to love each other for just a little longer. They get to say goodbye.
This is a sad show. But it's okay to be sad sometimes. It's okay to explore this sadness is art, in queer art. It can be healing to sit in these emotions for a little while, like Mitsuru and Koichi do in the show. To take the time to process it and connect with these stories.
Thank you to @bengiyo's post and the podcast for putting a new favorite show on my radar, and @lurkingshan and @waitmyturtles for sharing their thoughts and love for the show.
#eternal yesterday#eien no kinou#eternal yesterday meta#japanese bl#thinking thoughts#i have so many thoughts about this show I haven't even touched on materiality here yet#this show is phenomenal I'll be thinking about it for a long time#what is it with grief portrayed through supernatural and poetry for me?#the surreal nature of loss and grief maybe#thank you to anyone who reads all of this#it's a heavy topic but I needed to get my thoughts out
91 notes
·
View notes
Text
Since all the Oceanids in Genshin are named after real Oceanids from Greek myth, here are some of my favorite Oceanid names that I think could’ve been Furina’s name before she became the god Focalors:
Adrasteia: goddess of “inevitable fate,” representing “pressing necessity” and the inescapability of punishment. scarily on the nose for Furina’s story.
Beroe: mentioned in Virgil’s Georgics as the sister of Clio—“Clio and Beroe her sister, daughters of Ocean both, both arrayed in gold, and both in dappled hides.” Technically all the Oceanids are sisters but I like that Beroe is specifically mentioned alongside Clio, the namesake of the fictional Oceanid whose story mirrors Furina’s.
Calypso: means “she who conceals” or “like the hidden tide”
Ceto: means “sea monster” or “whale”—I like the irony of this being Furina’s Oceanid name when the prophecy is caused by a giant whale monster
Clymene: means “fame”
Eurynome: means “wanderer” or “ruler”
Galaxaura: means “calm” or “the charmer” or “like the refreshing coolness of a shady stream”
Iache: means “cry” or “shout” or “shriek”
Peitho: means “persuasion” or “winning eloquence”
Perse/Persa/Perseide/Persea/Perseis: means “destroyer”
Phaeno: means “appear” or “reveal” or “shine”; I really like the idea of Furina’s Oceanid name starting with F/Ph like her other names.
Philyra: means “linden-tree,” which is a kind of tree found in Fontaine. This tree has symbolic significance in many cultures, even being associated jurisprudence/justice in Germanic cultures. And for some big delusion, in the medieval poem Nibelungenlied—one of the inspirations for Wagner’s Der Ring des Nibelungen, from which the Dragon Sovereign King Nibelung’s name is likely derived—the hero Siegfried gains invulnerability by bathing in dragon blood, but a single linden leaf sticks to him in the process, creating his sole point of invulnerability. A fitting name for the former Oceanid who has a reincarnated Dragon Sovereign with a very big soft spot for her.
Theia: means “divine”
Urania: means “heavenly”; this is actually used in game as the name of the “Hateful Oceanid” enemy we fought during the Legend of the Vagabond Sword event, so in truth it probably can’t be Furina’s name. What makes it intriguing to me is the location on Erinnyes called Loch Urania, which is no doubt named after the Oceanid Urania, whoever she is.
#furina#genshin impact#which ones are your favorites or are there any i didn’t include you like more than these?#just used the trusty List of Oceanids Wikipedia page for this LOL
45 notes
·
View notes
Text
2019
AN: so this isn’t technically dad!jack it’s how he became a dad lmao
requested? no
warnings: creepy gas station guy, mentions of smut, and talks about birth control
Word Count: 3.1k words
June 2019
Monse looked down at her phone and rolled her eyes. She hung up without answering and focused on all of the poems she had to use in the comparative paper she was going to write. She turned up the volume of her laptop in hopes that the classical music would drown out her phone’s constant ringing. It didn’t.
“No!” She said when she answered.
“C’mon, I haven’t seen you in weeks.” the voice whined on the other side. “I missed you.”
“I have finals to prepare for and several research papers to write. Also, you didn’t miss me, you missed that I kept your dick warm.” Monse said before hanging up.
Not even thirty seconds later her phone started ringing once more. She sighed dramatically and answered. “What do you want Jack?”
“Have you eaten?” he asked her.
Monse looked over to the half eaten Uncrustable on her desk that she got for breakfast. “No.”
“Come out with me for a bit, I’m buying.” he offered.
She stayed quiet, considering her options. She could make a Maruchan with Valentina and stress about her school work until it was three in the morning OR she could take a well deserved study break and get some free food and sex out of it.
“Fine,” she sighed, giving in.
"I'll be there in fifteen minutes."
She hung up and tossed her phone on the bed. She quickly changed out of her bleach stained UCLA sweatpants that dye changed into when she showered in the morning to a pair of clean panties and high waisted denim booty shorts. She shrugged off the baggy hoodie and put on a cropped long sleeve top. She tossed everything in her closet and rushed to the shared bathroom across the hall. She cursed hearing the shower run. She knocked urgently.
“Serena, let me in. I need to brush my teeth.” Monse yelled through the door.
“No, you’re gonna make the water cold.” Serena, her roommate and best friend, responded.
“Serena, please, he’s already outside.” she begged.
“Who, Macklemore?” her best friend asked with an amused tone.
Serena calling Jack, by every other white male rapper to ever exist, was a running joke between them dating back to their high school days when he actually started to take his rap career seriously. Serena was from Louisville but moved to LA for school. Jack and Serena have been friends since he was switched to her preschool class after he bit a kid in his former class for hogging the handball during recess. She was the only kid that wasn't scared of him, she has three older brothers that taught her how to fight and could easily take Jack if necessary. They were inseparable until Jack started focusing more on his music career while Serena was more concentrated on getting into college.
She and Monse were assigned to be roommates their freshman year at UCLA. They've been inseparable since then. Which was how Monse met Jack. He was in LA working on music and decided to stop by to see Serena, who he hadn't seen since before she left for summer bridge.
Monse's first impression of Jack was that he was very confident and flirty but at the same time he was a bit dorky in a way that was cute. He didn't have the best style but the way he carried himself was enough for her to notice him. For almost three years, every time he'd go and visit Serena, he would always try to make a move on Monse, but she'd kindly rejected him.
It wasn’t that she wasn’t attracted to him; she had a thing for tall dorky funny guys. In the back of her head her parents' voices, specifically her mom's, constantly nagged her about how she needed to concentrate on school and not let boys distract her because they could affect her grades and her life in general. She was already on thin ice for not pursuing bioengineering like them and her sisters. That was until a few months ago when Serena was spending the weekend with her boyfriend and forgot to tell Jack that she wasn't in town, leaving Monse to entertain him. They found a bottle of Centenario tequila in the fridge. A few shots later, they both got more flirty and went for it.
That night was the beginning of their long distance friends with benefits. It became a routine whenever he was in LA he’d hit her up. The first few times they tried hiding it from Serena, but she found out soon after hearing Monse moan Jack's name. She said she found it weird because she saw the both of them as siblings, but at the end of the day it wasn’t her place to say anything because both were good people and she trusted them to know what they were getting themselves into. Though she did warn Jack not to fuck it up because Monse was her only friend that was a girl.
Monse knew her place in Jack’s life. She was aware of his reputation and how he wasn’t looking for anything serious. Neither was she. Which was why she didn't mind that he had other girls to hook up with just as long as they were on the same page. Considering that she was the most permanent girl on Jack's roster and she was on the pill, they agreed to have sex with without a condom, as long as they used protection with the other people they hooked up with. And if there was ever a slip up and they had unprotected sex with someone else, they were to let the other know and get tested. Fortunately for them, there hasn't been one.
After five seconds, Serena unlocked the door and let Monse in. She rushed in and hastily brushed her teeth as her best friend dried her hair with her diffuser. While she was at it, Monse put on deodorant and did a simple makeup look consisting of concealer to hide her dark under eyes, mascara to make her look awake and lipgloss because she liked lipgloss. She undid her braid and let her hair loose.
"Are you and Miles coming back here?" Monse asked.
"No, he's taking me to Santa Barbara for the weekend, so I won't be back until Sunday afternoon." Serena said, gently separating her curls.
"Okay," she nodded.
"Here," her best friend said, placing a handful of condoms on the sink. "I know your procrastinating ass hasn't picked your birth control refill."
"Jack always has some." Monse pushed them back to her.
"What if he doesn't have any?"
"Babe, he's paranoid and always carries condoms like you carry mints. We'll be fine." Monse's phone buzzed in her back pocket. It was Jack. "Okay I have to go. I'll see you Sunday and have fun with your man."
"Have fun with G-Eazy." Serena called out.
Monse rolled her eyes. She grabbed her bag and keys. She jogged down the flight of stairs that led to the outdoor parking spaces. Jack leaned against his rental car that was parked perpendicular to Serena's Honda Civic. He wore black basketball shorts with a grey zip up hoodie and a white tank top under.
"Hi." She said walking up to him.
She wrapped her arms around his stomach and stood on her tippy-toes. Jack met her halfway and cupped her face with his hands, bringing their lips together. He deepened their kiss, moaning into her mouth.
"Tattoo-less Post Malone don't do that shit to Monse in public." Serena yelled at them from her apartment window.
Jack pulled away from Monse and looked up at the window. He raised his left hand and flipped Serena off.
“I’m calling your mother.” she said.
“Does your mother know where you’re going this weekend? I’m sure Dr. Wilson would like to know what you're up to this weekend.”
Serena looked over to Monse. “Again, what do you see in him?”
“Go finish getting ready, you haven’t finished packing. I’ll deal with his dumbass.” Monse said. She turned to Jack and nodded her head towards her car. “We’re taking my car, so you can park there and I’ll take Serena’s spot when we get back.”
“Why? My car is right here.” Jack asked, pointing at his rental.
“I need to get gas.”
He nodded and went to his car to wait for her to pull out of her parking spot, so he could take it. Then he got in her Honda accord. He pushed the seat back so his legs could fit in the passenger seat. He pulled out his phone and connected it to get AUX.
“Wanna hear what I’ve been working on at the studio?” he asked her.
“I guess, since you already connected your phone.” Monse shrugged as she looked over her shoulder to switch lanes.
Jack gave her a pointed look then looked down at his phone. He scrolled down to his new song and pressed play. He shifted in his seat to watch Monse’s reaction. She kept a neutral face while the song played. Her lip twitched at the ‘Shego’ line; it was a nod to her when she sent Jack pictures of herself as a sluty Shego before she headed out to a Halloween frat party with Serena, who was dressed as Kim Possible. She scrunched up her face, trying not to smile which was her way of saying that the song was good.
“So?” he asked, switching to Spotify to play some Mac Miller.
“I asked you one time if I hurt you while going down on you and you use it in a song?” she shook her head.
"You know I'm sensitive." He
"You're so annoying."
“Can I be real?” Jack asked her. She nodded, letting him know to continue. “I was kinda nervous to work with the producer who worked on this.”
“Why’s that?”
“She was a girl–”
“Ay que hueva, women can produce–”
“Let me fucking finish, damn.” Jack cut her off.
“Okay pues, finish.”
“I was nervous to work with her because she only worked with this work band under Ryan Tedder.”
“Are you talking about Aaliyah Douglas?” Monse asked.
“How do you know her?”
“She’s Alexis Ximena’s best friend.”
“I have no idea who that is.”
“Remember when you came over a while back and we binged that one show about the kids that are trapped in a dome and get superpowers.”
“Deadass, I don't pay attention to what you have playing on your Mac, I'm just tryna smash.” he smirked.
“I can’t stand you.” she rolled her eyes.
Monse pulled up to an empty pump and grabbed her wallet. She read the paper in front of the card reader and frowned. It said that the card reader wasn't working, so she had to go inside to put money in the pump.
“I have to go inside the store to pay, do you want something?” she asked Jack.
“I’m good,” he said. “Want me to go in with you?”
“Nah,” she said, getting out.
Jack kept an eye out on her while she was in the store. She was in and out in less than five minutes with some Turbo Flamas. A stereotypical white gas station guy in a wife beater began to walk behind her, rambling off about her ass. Jack quickly got out and went up to her, putting his arm over her shoulders.
“Fuck off, man.” he said to the guy when he noticed he was still following them. He nodded to Monse to get in the car.
“Whatever, she's not even that hot, man.” The guy yelled before he walked away.
Jack leaned in the car window and asked her softly, “you okay? He didn’t try anything?”
She nodded, “I’m okay.”
He nodded and filled up her car. Once he finished he climbed back in and drove them to Monse’s taco shop in LA. She was from San Diego and nothing could compare to the tacos from down there. The shop was a small hole in the wall restaurant. The inside was just the kitchen and the small stand where people go to make their orders. By the entrance was a large window that was converted into a long bar with stools for people to sit and eat. There were also some tables outside of the restaurant for people to dine there as well.
Jack parked across from the taco shop and put in a few quarters. He opened Monse’s door and guided her to the cross walk. Hand in hand they crossed the street and went to the shop.
When they got there, there were only two people in line. Monse ordered for them, Jack tended to get flustered when he ordered and got the wrong thing. She got a plate of carne asada fries with a tamarindo flavored Jarrito and for Jack a California burrito with a Mexican coke. She made sure that their foods were without guacamole or any sort of avocado because she was allergic to avocado. They learned their lesson on her birthday a few weeks ago because she felt itchy when Jack went down on her, and had to take her to the ER. They learnt that even the smallest trace can cause her an allergic reaction, so Jack never ate avocado when he was with her.
Jack tapped his card and signed the receipt.
"That's a new one." Monse nodded at his signature.
"I'm testing out new ones for when I make it big and people ask for autographs." He said taking the other receipt.
"Maybe wait because who knows when that will be." She said sweetly before sipping on her drink.
"This is how you treat me after I buy you food?" He said with a solemn face, touching his heart. "You wound me, Mon-say."
"You know damn well that I'm only out here because you promised me food."
*
After they ate, they went back to her apartment. Monse had a poem analysis due at midnight, so she was finishing that up. Jack laid on her bed, scrolling through movies on his phone to see which movie they should play as background noise for when they had sex.
"I didn't know Ray J's sister was in this?" Jack said out loud. "Hell, I didn't even know there was a sequel to this."
"What?" She asked, as she formatted her work to MLA.
"They have 'I Still Know What You Did Last Summer' on Netflix." He passed her his phone.
"Did you just call thee Brandy Norwood, Ray J's sister? Put some respect on Cinderella." Monse shook her head.
"Is she not his sister?" He asked.
"How do you know him but not Brandy?" She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "She's way more famous than him. I didn't even know they were siblings until I watched a rerun of Punked."
Jack simply shrugged.
"One of these days, not knowing who Brandy is, if gonna bite you in the ass." She warned him.
"I take it that we're watching this."
"Yes." She nodded, ticking off all the bullet points she had to put in the submission box.
After that she pulled up Netflix on her tv and searched for the movie on the search tab. Once she found it, she pressed play. Monse switched to a pair of baggy sweats that she was positive were Jack's and climbed in bed with him. Her bed was big enough for her to lay her head on Jack's stomach while he laid lengthwise in the middle of the bed.
Monse lost interest when the actor who played Fred Jones in the Scooby-Doo movies almost got killed. She looked up at Jack to see if he was bored since he usually got bored five minutes into a movie and tried to make a move on her but he was actually watching. She rolled her eyes and looked in front of her.
That was when she noticed that Jack's tank top rode up, revealing a happy trail. Monse smiled mischievously and slid her hand down to the sliver of bare skin. Her fingertips lightly danced on the drawstrings of Jack’s shorts.
“Don’t even think about it.” Jack said, pushing himself to sit up.
“You say that as if you weren't the one blowing up my phone not even two hours ago.” Monse said, straddling his lap.
“Now I got you how I wanted you.” he smirked before pulling to close the gap between them.
It didn’t take long for them to get naked. Jack used his other hand to pull one of her legs over his waist as he deepened their kiss. Monse loosened the grip around his waist and used her thighs to grind into him. Jack groaned in pleasure. What felt like an eternity later, he pulled away and kissed down her body. He pulled away from her lips and kissed down to her chest. He tweaked one of her nipples while he nipped and sucked her other breast. Satisfied with the love bites on her chest, he captured her lips once more. Monse desperately needed him inside of her. She yearned to have him inside of her.
As reading her mind, Jack pushed himself up to give himself some room. He held his cock in his hand ready to slip it in Monse, but she stopped him.
“What’s up?” he asked her.
“Do you have condoms? I ran out of the pill like two weeks ago and I haven’t gone to get more because I was busy with finals and stuff–”
“You don’t have to explain.” Jack reassured her. He reached down for his shorts and checked his wallet. He cursed when he came out empty. “I don’t have any.”
“Wait! Serena left a bunch in the bathroom.” Monse said, remembering.
“I’ll get them.”
Jack put on his boxers. He went down the hallway to the bathroom. There was nothing. He checked the medicine cabinet and there was nothing but skin care products and feminine products. He looked under the sink and came up empty.
“Are you sure she left them in the bathroom?” Jack asked her when he returned to her room.
“Yeah, she put them on top of the sink. Are they not there?” Monse panicked. He shook his head. “Fuck, and all the stores near are always out.”
“Don’t sweat it. I’m sure this one time won’t kill us. I’ll get you a Plan B in the morning if that makes you feel better.”
“Yeah that’s fine.” she agreed.
Jack kicked off his boxers and climbed in bed. “So where were we?”
Taglist: @cherryxcreme @heavyhitterheaux @carma-fanficaddict @youngharleezy @youngharleezyxo @babyharleezy @that-90s-girllll @alinaharlow @whywontyoulovemecami @meyocoko @harlowcomehome @nattinatalia @jackharloww @awhore4moree @noescapricho-essentimiento
188 notes
·
View notes
Text
College crush - 2
summary : college au | when the frontier between a crush and an obsession blurs, how can you draw the line ?
pairing : shy n clingy bf! jk x black fem! reader
genre : fluff, soft yandere | headcanons
word count : 2007, on going
warnings : stalking, fixation
author's note : it took me a while to overcome writer’s block for this story but I woke up motivated this morning and I literally just finished writing all of it in one sitting 🤭 there will be 2 or 3 more chapters left after this one ! hope u enjoy loves ♪(๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)♪
previous | next / masterlist
2/ forbearance, solitude & craving
- Enactment of the plan
it is time. his plan is finally in motion
he’s going to get you, at all cost.
he already had a good amount of photography in stock but he spent the week producing a fresh batch of pictures for the application
he took his camera and clicked everywhere towards everything
stills of landscapes, animals in action, objects and art pieces, people moving…
he had to make his application absolutely perfect to be sure he’d be with you
and he did ; his work was outstandingly pretty and always held some sort of longing/nostalgic feelings that could be felt by the observer
you could tell in them that the photographer took his time to wait for the correct angle, the perfect movement of the subjects and the right amount of reflection of light before he captured each images
this batch process was so amusing and sort of therapeutic to him because he got to get back to photography, which he didn’t have that much time to do since he started college
but the best part of it all :
he started taking pictures of you.
he didn’t even intend to do it at first
him taking a broad picture of the campus’ park wanting to capture the nature coupled with the students go on with their occupations
but when he looked back at it, there you were
on the 3rd plan, almost totally blending yourself with the paysage ; yet looking so outstandingly beautiful… almost angelic
then he decided to hit click more often whenever he would run into you
he always made sure he’d stay far enough so that you don’t notice him ; but close enough so that he could capture you in the upmost quality
each picture were of you doing insignificant things like walking around campus with your earphones on ; reading at a local café ; eating and laughing with some friends of yours ; studying and looking so cute with your frowning eyebrows
he held each one of these so close to his heart
he even created a whole folder on his computer compiling all of the photos he took of you
he was dreaming of the day you’d pose just for him, looking right in his objective with your bright eyes and piercing gaze
he was dreaming of the day you’ll be his and all he would do everyday is follow you around with his camera and snap pictures of you doing anything with him
anyways
he submitted his application for the club and of course got accepted
the first classes would start two weeks from now
he absolutely couldn’t wait to finally be near you
- battling loneliness
he was right : he definitely couldn’t wait.
the two weeks are up and the first photography class starts tomorrow
the wait was overbearing and painful
but he swallowed his suffering
because he knew that patience is the most important part of the plan.
for it to work out perfectly it was necessary to wait
to pass time, on top of taking more pictures of you, he started to write poems
his feelings for you were growing more and more everyday without a mean of escape ; he had to find something to externalize them before he turned absolutely crazy
at the beginning, it wasn’t exactly poems, but little journal entries destined to you, since he cannot contact you directly just yet
technically he could but he was far too much of a coward to ever try to make a move in real life
the messages started soft and short — like 2/3 phrases short — and were very descriptive with no definite style whatsoever
“seeing your beautiful face made me feel so happy today. You are the ruler of my heart.”
but.. he felt so… ashamed ? uncomfortable ? because he never wrote anything before and he thought it was so lame
the more he wrote, the more he got bold and tried new ways to express himself
so he started using more imagery and very sentimental turn of phrases and the little messages turned to poems, each longer and more complex than the previous ones
“if anyone asks me to prove my love for you, I’ll ask them to let you speak on my grave and watch how I come back to life right before their eyes, to bask in your angelic voice and presence.”
he wanted to write the best poems so that you could really see how much love he held for you
so that he could prove to you that he was perfect and deserving of your love and attention
he was getting more confident in his writing but he felt like it would never be enough to truly capture the entirety of your outstanding beauty the purity of your heart and aura
and each poem or picture from afar reminded him of how lonely he was, and how you weren’t his yet
but he had to stay strong, because soon he’ll be close to you
- eventually : the liberation
he had so much trouble to sleep
he was so excited because today was finally the day he’d been waiting for for so long
the day of the first photography class
he wanted to look good and make a great first impression so he spent half the night choosing an outfit
settling for a baggy grey t-shirt and black cargo pants because he didn’t feel ready to be noticed by you just yet
and he definitely needed to update his wardrobe… too much dark and baggy clothes
he noticed you were very stylish and he daydreamed about going shopping with you more than once
he wanted to be your doll to dress up as you please and have matching outfits with you
he also wanted to see you in the clothes that he chose himself just for you. he’s convinced that they’ll suit you so well
so much so that he had a ton of carts waiting on lots of different website, just ready to buy and send for you to wear
anyways
he was so so nervous
but, his excitement exceeded his nervousness and apprehension
he barely ate anymore these days but at some point he decided to eat properly, get back in the gym and do his skincare
because he knew that you wouldn’t want your boyfriend to not take care of himself
and if he cannot care for himself, how can he even pretend that he’ll be able to care for you ??
he was proud of himself and his love for you because you made him a better man without even meeting him yet
he knew that each and every day he was becoming more and more perfect for you
fast forward to the afternoon, and 2pm
the class started at 2:30 pm, be he came here early just so he could admire you enter the class, and also choose the best seating area for the both of you
he settled for the middle row on the very left side
because he knew you love to sit on the front row on the right side. so this place would allow him to look at your side profile and stare at you all that he wants without you noticing him.
it was perfect
time went by, and the classroom started filling up slowly
he knew you’d come in last, so he put a little book on one of the chairs in the front row so nobody would take your spot
and just like clockwork, you arrived right before the class started
the only chair available the one that he reserved for you
you looked around to see if the person who left the book was here, and your neighbor told you that he saw nobody claim back the seat so you just sat there
when you did, shivers travelled his whole body from head to toe.
he felt so proud of himself and also so thankful that you were accepting his first ever move towards you. His first proof of his love for you.
the class started but he did not listen one bit
he was so mesmerized by your beauty and your closeness
he was already following you around to your place of study like the library or cafes to look at you ; but he never got the courage to get any closer.
you being just 2 rows in front of him was the closest he’s ever been
he was savoring each and every second, before a miracle occurred.
the photograph professor called out your name and asked you to present yourself in front of the class
apparently everyone would have to
he quickly pulled out his phone and started the dictaphone
then you spoke up and started presenting yourself in front of the whole class
he felt himself melt on the spot
your voice so clear and full of assurance, as you spilled precious details about yourself that he’ll spend the rest of his life cherishing
you said that you love photography, you draw, you write and you read. And you talked about being really excited to start this class and do your best to express yourself through your photography
he could cry right here and there. this was so much more than he would even dare to ask for
but he was getting nervous again. because this means that he would have to present himself next
he started shaking his leg uncontrollably and his hands started sweating. he didn’t expect to have to speak up and be noticed by you so early in the plan
but he had to be strong for you and not let his timidness consume him
his time came. everyone turned around to look at him, including you
he couldn’t bear meeting your gaze and looking at you in the eyes so he looked straight in front of him, aiming towards the professor
however if he did hold your gaze, he would have seen how your eyes kind of lit up looking at him
it was so difficult for him to speak up and not stutter but he did his best
you only had to say what brought you here and your other hobbies. Some people told more, some less. He opted for the less.
« Hello all. I’ve been doing photography for years and decided to enroll as soon as I knew of the existence of this club. Other than photography, I enjoy gaming, working out and writing poems. That’s all »
the professor thanked him and moved on the the next person
he felt his nerves relax and released a breathe he didn’t know he was holding
he hoped he made a good impression on you mentioning working out and writing. Since you love writing, you have now a second shared interest and he also overheard you talk about how you like fit guys so he was sure he hit all the right spots
he spent the rest of the class not listening one bit, just looking at you being focused on the class
at the end of it, he pretended to take longer to pack up his things and when everyone left the classroom he went over to your seat
your sweet scent lingered on the spot and he was incredibly jealous of the person that sat next to you
you smelt a mix of vanilla and cinnamon with a hint of sweet citrus fruit
he wanted to bottle up the air and take it home with him if he could
he went back to his dorm with so much contentment and happiness within his heart
now that he got you close he wanted more. and he would have it
for the first time of his life, he grew confidence and decided to act on his impulse
and his impulse led him to accelerate the plan : he’ll contact you even from afar.
#lufy’s fics ♤#thebtswritersclub#bts x black reader#bts x poc reader#jungkook headcanons#jungkook x reader#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fluff#jungkook scenarios#yandere jungkook#soft yandere#bts fanfic#bts imagines#bts scenarios#college au#college crush update#jungkook is becoming more and more obsessed as time goes by 🫣
251 notes
·
View notes
Text
... ⠀⠀יִיִ⠀𝃣 ⠀⠀ writeblr intro ⠀⠀ 💌 ⠀⠀ ── ⠀⠀ ;
hello ! my name is third king january but feel free to call me third or january ( or any other nickname you'd like ) ! i'm a twenty two year old black lesbian pursuing a graphic design major with a minor in art history and creative writing—considering media studies—who uses they/them pronouns !
ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ :⠀ 🍓. i think this may be my third or fourth time trying out a writeblr, but the other attempts didn't go well since i was busy and didn't put a lot of effort into interacting with my mutuals </3. this time around, i really want to be a part of the community and be more supportive of everyone's writing! my goal for this account is to share my wips, any writing, and keep motivated to do more than just stare at a blank document for hours </3.
i'm a big reader and i plan to share some of my recently reads on this blog. please feel free to send me book recs if you think it's something i might like or if you just wanna ramble about something you read that you really liked! my favorite genres are horror, magical realism, fairy tales and fantasy. i love beautiful prose that's almost poetic and ambiguous writing that has you questioning everything until the grand reveal.
my favorite books are: bunny by mona awad, deathless by catherine m. valente, and how to win the time war by amal el-mohtar and max gladstone. the last two books helped me understand the kind of writing style i want to strive for as did poetry !! i don't have a whole lot of fav poems, but worm king's lullaby by richard siken is one that's always spinning in my head.
alongside reading i like manga, webtoons, videogames, and anime. my all time favorite anime is hyouka followed by angel beats and clannad. my favorite webtoon is omniscient reader's viewpoint and i can't recommend it enough. it's soosososo good! ( i started with the webtoon before switching to the novel bc i was too impatient to wait for the updates ) my favorite games are the halo series and oxenfree.
other interests of mine include music, drawing, art, watching youtube videos, journaling, horror movies, and sleeping 😴. i have a few graphic novels / webcomics in my wips so i'm learning how to draw to make them a reality! i also have a video game that's tied to another wip so i'm getting into coding as well !
please never be shy / afraid to tag me in ask games, send me an ask, or even a message! i also have a discord ( username: thirdking ) if you'd like to add me and message me there. also never think or feel like you're bothering me or anything if you wanna say hi or ramble about your interests. i'm always looking to make new friends !! 😁
i ask that minors don't interact or follow !! thank you !!
i have a handful of wips that's been running laps in my head for some time now but these are the ones ( excluding shorter stories ) that aren't multimedia projects or animation ideas, but i may talk about those anyways 😋 since most of these are still in the outlining stage they're subject to change but i'll make sure to update anything to reflect those changes !
📝 𖹭 ⠀ֵ⠀ wip one ; spring ( technically untitled but springs gna be in the final title )
the story follows two ex band mates reconnecting in their adult years after they parted ways when their front man signed a major record deal.
📝 𖹭 ⠀ֵ⠀ wip two ; sisyphus
sisyphus stars three siblings at the center of a conspiracy 1!1!1 the oldest sibling, an astronaut, goes missing during a privately funded space mission embarking to a new planet found in the solar system. i wouldn't call this a greek retelling, but it does a feature a lot of nods to classic greek myths!
📝 𖹭 ⠀ֵ⠀ wip three ; atwe
atwe follows the mother of a teen superhero getting revenge after her kid is killed by an unknown villain. though it's my own special take on superheroes featuring my personal criticisms on teen heroes, it's also a study on family—in particular—distant family relations and saying i love you a little too late.
📝 𖹭 ⠀ֵ⠀ wip four ; march marchen ( title will definitely change )
march marchen is my sort of alice in wonderland / fairy tale retelling that follows an unnamed girl in what might be wonderland trying to figure out who she is and who she isn't. ft parallel worlds, escapism, the fear of childhood, and the fear of adulthood.
📝 𖹭 ⠀ֵ⠀ wip five ; neapolitan ( title will definitely change )
neapolitan is a magical girl webcomic / graphic novel. the story follows a trio of girls becoming the successors of a long line of ice cream inspired magical girls. ft a bright fun palette, gore, and cannibalism! though it's a webcomic, i intend to give it a novelization from the perspective of a different set of magical girls.
if you'd like to be added to a taglist please send me an ask! it'll be easier for me to keep track ! thank you for reading <3
#ITS FINALLY DONE!!#sorry the text is so small i closed ps before i could re edit it </3#black writblr#writeblr introduction#writeblr intro#writeblr community#queer writers#writeblr#writblr#writers on tumblr#writers and poets#poetblr#poets on tumblr#poetsandwriters
23 notes
·
View notes
Note
I know you said you don't want to touch Like A Poem because it's perfect as it is (you're right, it is). But hear me out here... there is still tension even though Joe and reader have now kissed. I'm not sure you're aware (obviously you are lol) but Joe and reader do not know each other at all. He knows she owns a book store, and she knows he likes his coffee black and that's pretty much it? Also I want to read about the funeral to be able to get over the grandfather dying so suddenly (why did you do this to me it made me sob) so I'm officially begging you to continue the story :))))
i don't know who you are, but i will find you - very sorry but will have to murder you. BIG SIGH. all right, i'm starting a "second season" to Like A Poem because of this request, and this is the first part. and hey. last thing. fuck you 🥰
Wordcount: 2.1K
-----
A Lot Like Love
part one - part two - part three - part four - part five
“Thanks for coming,” you could hear your mother say softly to someone you didn't know. You were unsure if they were family, an old friend of the family, or even just someone who knew your grandfather who you'd never met before. There were a couple of aunts – great aunts – old, heavily perfumed ladies that weren't technically aunts and felt far removed from you, who you'd only see once every maybe 4 or 5 years. Maybe it was one of them.
“Thanks so much for being here today,” Your mother was operating on autopilot. She kind of had to, you thought. How else could she make it through this day? You felt guilty about not standing next to her, saying goodbye to all the guests, but there was not a chance you could host the way she could, speaking to everyone, smiling at everyone.
You just sat beside where she was standing by the door as people left, on a hard, cold church pew, and stared into space. You felt drained the way you feel drained after a huge cry, which, coincidentally, you’d just had. In front of a packed church too, which made it worse.
Your mother had written a beautiful letter to her father that she got to read up on the stand during the funeral, and she had done it without much show of emotion. All her words had been pronounced so clearly, no stutters or sobs got in the way of the back-row hearing it just as well as the front. When you'd gotten up to read a poem fitting for the occasion, you'd been a crying mess, voice high, needing to take breaks because your throat would close up completely - it was awful. And all those people staring at you, 75% per cent of them pairs of eyes you didn't know or recognize at all. None of them Joe's. You had vowed to yourself then that you'd never speak at a funeral again.
So, you kissed Joe yesterday. And then he had left shortly after. That didn't feel like enough to invite Joe to your grandfather's funeral the next morning, so you hadn't. Which was okay, your mother was there, and you know, other family members too. Not that you cared much about them, none were really in your life, but it was nice for them to pay their respects to your granddad.
When the last person had walked past your mother, she turned and came to sit down next to you. She sighed as she collapsed onto the bench, and you looked at her. She looked tired. Worse than you did. You just sat for a minute, empty stares into empty spaces.
“I don't want to go back to the store,” you said, slumping and resting your head on her shoulder.
“Then don't, take the day.” your mother suggested, but you shook your head.
“Anne's in there by herself now, running the ship. Not sure if she's doing it tightly, but, fingers crossed.” You lightly joked, crossing your fingers for effect, and it made your mother smile.
Up by the altar, you could see the pastor who had led the service, straightening some bits out, tidying the pieces of paper you'd left behind. Every move that was made, every little sound, was magnified by the acoustics of the building. You didn't like how cold churches felt, but you really appreciated the history and art of them. The vastness and grandiosity of them. You felt like the empty space between the pews and the tall ceilings was filled up with floating bubbles of nice thoughts and memories and even prayers for your granddad; all things people who had just left the venue had left behind. You weren't religious, but there was something nice about being sat in the back, letting those bubbles slowly come down and land on you, with your mother by your side.
“Hey, remember when I called you that one day about the actor that used the toilet at the store?” you suddenly thought of it, and wanted to take your mother's mind off the heavy and emotional morning you'd just struggled through. She could probably use some fun news, and didn't you carry around just the most fun bit of news right now?
“I met him,” your mother said, and it took you a second to let her words register inside your mind. You shot eyes at her, confused, and saw she was smiling. The only time your mother and Joe had been in the store at the same time, she had been stuck behind the till helping you out. There was not a chance that they had met that day. You would’ve seen.
“When?!” your voice was unexpectedly ear-piercing as it bounced from the tall walls. You instantly regretted saying it so loudly, seeing the pastor up front look at you.
“A while ago, I think... couple of weeks? At the bakery,” she said, like that really explained anything.
You sat up, straightening your back and you turned your body towards her as you waited for your mother to explain herself further. Had your mother forgotten the excitement in your voice when you had told her of your first meeting with Joe? How it had been so embarrassing that he had caught you falling to the floor after you thought he had left? How later you had explained that he had become somewhat of a friend to the store, that he would sometimes just be there for half a day? Why would she refrain that she actually met him in a fucking bakery?!
“Mum!” you impatiently hissed when she didn't seem to want to clarify herself at all. She took your arm and linked it with hers, forcing you to move back to sit next to her again, shoulders touching.
“It was after I helped that whole afternoon,” your mother made sure to whisper as she eyed the pastor who now seemed to be slowly making his way down the pews. You were likely going to be asked to leave if you weren't quiet, and your mother didn't want to step out back into the real world just yet. “There was a woman who had asked you for help twice, and you hadn't even acknowledged her because you were daydreaming, staring at someone. That's how I knew what he looked like.”
You scoffed. You could've googled, you thought.
You remember someone asking for help when you had noticed Joe and your granddad talking in those chairs. Had they tried to get your attention several times? Surely not. You definitely would've noticed.
“After your granddad and I left - you know that bakery that's opposite the flower shop granddad used to get sunflowers from? He was adamant we'd go inside, even though it was the end of the day, and nothing would be freshly baked.”
“And then Joe,” your mother elongated his name and looked at you as if she was peering over reading glasses. “Was in there, waiting to be helped.” You think back and remember how Joe had come back into the store later that day with baked goods that you shared when he had helped you restock the shelves.
“He said hi to granddad. Very polite.”
Joe was very polite, she was right. Then your mum leant into you slightly, as if the next thing she was going to say was a secret. “Granddad told him he would always get you pastries on Friday afternoons when you'd come visit after school, and I thought it was such a weird thing to say to someone practically a stranger, but Joe then added four croissants to his order.”
Your mother might as well have slapped you right across the face. The emotional memory you'd completely forgotten about hit you hard, combined with new information about Joe and your granddad scheming behind your back, your brain short-circuited.
Friday afternoon pastries with your grandfather. You’d look forward to it all week. You were only little, but he'd always have enough to feed at least four adults, you were sure. Different types of everything, but always two croissants. One for him, and one for you. It wasn’t until much later that you realized it was because your mother always had the late shift on Fridays and wouldn’t be able to cook, and your granddad had to work at the store, also not able to cook you a proper meal. It was a predicament that had morphed into a wonderful core childhood memory, one that you cherished with your entire being. You could feel tears pickle in the corners of your eyes as you tried to remember details, feelings, smells- anything to keep the memories fresh and live in your brain. You leant your head back to rest on your mother’s shoulder and thought you didn’t spend enough time with her. Her stopping by the store didn’t count as spending time, really.
“We didn't actually introduce ourselves,” your mother continued, and you couldn't help but chuckle. “Sounds like him,” you commented through a smile and a sniff. “When he left, it was our turn and dad said he didn’t even really want anything.” Whenever your mother would refer to him as ‘dad’ you knew that for a second you weren’t her daughter, but just a person she was talking to about her father. “He just asked for old bread to feed ducks and pigeons at the park.” You frowned a little. Had he just wanted to go into the bakery because he’d seen Joe in there? You’d never know the answer, you thought, which was frustrating but, in a way, it felt nice to have an empty page in this book just so you could fill it in for yourself with whatever story you so pleased.
How did he do this? Your grandfather wasn't even bloody alive anymore, and yet, he had managed to make your heart feel so full in this moment. As if it was him, comforting you at his own funeral, and it felt ironic.
“We kissed yesterday.” You confessed then, and your felt your mother squeeze your arm tight to her body.
“Was it good?” your mum asked, and you elbowed into her side as an answer, the both of you grinning.
“Seriously, was it?” she coaxed, and it made you laugh out loud – too loud for inside a church.
“We’re in a church, mother!” you exclaimed theatrically. “Yea let’s leave before they add silly things onto the bill. Things like noise pollution,” your mother said after seeing strict eyes at her from the pastor who was now walking towards you in large steps. “Fifty extra quid for disturbing baby Jesus,” you joked, following her out.
You had dropped your mother off at home, promised each other to see each other more, and she told you to slow down – you knew what she meant – before making your way over to work. Stepping inside you were confronted with an odd situation, a scene you couldn’t initially make a whole lot of sense of, and Joe’s facial expression absolutely didn’t help. He seemed a little annoyed.
There were people in the store. Two guys, men you didn’t know, sitting in the armchairs. Customers. They were in their jackets, backpacks on the floor, a bag of shopping in between them. One of them was sat back and calmly reading the back of a book he’d picked up from the display in the window. The other was perched up on the very edge of the seat, elbows on knees, headphones on with his full attention on the phone he was holding.
Joe, as it so happened, was stood behind the till, pen in hand, writing things onto a sheet that, suspiciously, looked a lot like an inventory list. Like he worked there. Which, you know, he very much didn’t.
When you’d walked in, the bell had rung loudly and Joe hadn’t looked up initially, too busy with… work? But when he did look up, you saw his eyes soften and you noticed the littlest twinge in his face that showed empathy. Anne must’ve said you weren’t there because of the funeral. Speaking of…
Just as you were about to wonder where Anne was exactly, she walked out of the breakroom.
“You’re back.” She stated. No emotion, no smiles, no excitement. Just a fact.
“Yep.” You said back, your face still wrinkled in confusion. Anne picked up on it.
“His seat was taken,” Anne said, and you knew she was trying to explain to you why Joe was behind the till doing her job, but it didn’t feel like a seat being taken meant that Joe now had to work in the store. Sure, Anne was strange. But this seemed a little too far of a stretch.
“I had to poop.” she then deadpanned.
Ah.
“Got it.”
---
part two
read Like A Poem here
---
The Taglisted: @kiwisa @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @xomunson @sadbitchfangirl @jssmth5 @bagelofthelord67 @nobody-000 @lluviamg06 - add yourself
#joe quinn#joseph quinn#fanfiction#joe quinn x reader#joseph quinn x reader#like a poem#a lot like love#joe x reader#joseph x reader#requested
294 notes
·
View notes
Text
SOLDIER Vlogging Shenanigans pt. 15
[The video starts with a black gloved finger covering the lens. Genesis's muffled voice is heard reciting LOVELESS in the background. A very Sephiroth-sounding "hm.." is heard before an "oh" and he moves his finger. He flips the camera around awkwardly. He's sitting on the floor of an elevator]
"Um…" He looks into the camera blankly, clearly unsure of himself. "We were returning to the SOLDIER floor after our lunch break, and…"
[He flips the camera around. Angeal is curled into a ball in the corner of the elevator. Genesis is sprawled out on the floor, loudly reciting LOVELESS ("The wandering soul knows no rest…Three friends go into battle…One is captured…"). Sephiroth flips the camera back to himself]
"The elevator has unfortunately malfunctioned. We've been stuck up here for three hours now. Genesis has recited LOVELESS for the hundredth and forty-fifth time now—"
"Dreams of the morrow hath the shattered soul. Pride is lost…"
"—And help was supposed to arrive an hour and a half ago, but alas, there seems to be other elevators in need of immediate attention."
[Sephiroth's eyes stray to something in front of him. He clumsily flips the camera around to show Angeal, now glaring bloody murder at Genesis, who is still dramatically engrossed in his recitation]
"For you are beloved by the goddess…Hero of the dawn, healer of worlds…"
[Sephiroth flips the camera back to himself]
"I've briefly entertained the idea of cutting a hole through the elevator's top and scaling the shaft way. However, that could potentially endanger us considering we're unaware of the elevator's technical issue."
"My soul, corrupted by vengeance...Hath endured torment, to find the end of the journey…"
[Sephiroth now looks perturbed. He pans the camera around, filming Angeal's visibly dissipating patience]
"In my own salvation...And your eternal slumber," Genesis finishes.
"ARE YOU DONE!?" Angeal snaps, causing Sephiroth to flinch and jolt the camera. "ARE YOU DONE, GENESIS?"
[It pans from A wide-eyed Genesis to a feral-looking Angeal]
"IF NOT, MAY I ASK WHEN IT WILL BE DONE, GENESIS? AT THIS POINT, EVEN THE GODDESS HERSELF IS SICK OF YOU READING THAT POEM EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. AT EVERY. SINGLE. HOUR."
[The camera pans back to Genesis, who not only looks unvexed, but elegantly clears his throat, glancing down at his open book]
"Infinite in mystery is the gift of the—"
[Angeal flies at him, catching Genesis in a chokehold. Sephiroth fumbles to turn the camera off and separate the two before Genesis turns the color of a Banora White]
[The video ends]
#ffvii#ffviir#ffvii crisis core#final fantasy vii#ff7#ff7r#crisis core#crisis core headcanons#final fantasy 7#sephiroth#angeal hewley#genesis rhapsodos#zack fair#soldier vlog
68 notes
·
View notes
Text
Obsession (Moonboys)
Warning(s); NONCON/DUBCON,obsessive behavior,stalker(ish) behavior,Praise kink!,Degradation kink!,smut!(piv sex),public sex,oral (f receiving),cum eating?,spit kink,fingering dumbifaction kink,sir kink, daddy kink!,talk of abuse! (Verbal & physical)+ more!
Pairing(s); dark! Moonboys! (Steven,Marc,Jake) X sweetheart! Fem! Reader.
Summary; my take on this request!!
A/n; I probably made this darker then intended but I’m in love with it!
Follow @sugaryestseb for reminders while my taglist is down:(
••••••••••••
You weren’t expecting your night to turn out like this, for it to end so unexpectedly well, for you to be in complete bliss as the man who you thought was just your friend was eating you out like some kind of monster. His tongue flicked and moved about inside you and on your clit and he knew just where to suck to have you seeing stars.
You met marc somewhere close to 7 months ago, well not exactly. It wasn’t marc you met it was steven. You met steven inside of a coffee shop. He noticed your book of poems and commented on your good taste that somehow morphed into a friendship. Soon though, soon you found out about this, about their situation with Khonsu. You accepted him whole heartedly. Thanked him for telling you, before he went on a spill about the things he was doing.
You slowly met the alters Marc and Jake, though technically Steven was a alter and marc was the original holder of the body.
Your time with Steven was mainly spent in librarys or cooped up in either of your apartments reading poems or books to one another.
Your time with Jake was mainly spent sparing or in a gym, he taught you how to hold a knife and where to swing for a punch, how to hold your stance as well.
While with Marc it was always something new, rather it being night walks as you talked or it being sitting on his couch while he played his guitar. Most of your time was spent together regardless he honestly brought you some sense of comfort.
You realized very quickly how special these boys were more importantly the fact you loved them, a part of you wanted to protect them or guard them almost. You’d never felt that way before about anyone.
What you didn’t know though was just how obsessed the boys were with you. Steven was the first to fall into the traps he also fell the hardest. Steven searched your socials getting at much information as he could. You weren’t a big poster but you still had a few. He was able to find a link to your Spotify through a favorite playlist you posted on your story. He was able to find out that you worked at a small clothing store not too far from his apartment. He learned that you had been engaged before but the wedding was called off. He also learned that your natural hair color wasn’t your hair color you kept it dyed for some reason.
Next was Jake, Jake fell next and he didn’t even mean too but you had his heart pounding in his chest every time he’d see you. Jake followed you without you knowledge, getting to know your usual routes, getting to know where you tend to shop for clothing,food,work snacks,shoes,it all. He learned you went to the movies at least once a month sometimes 2 If it’s been a bad month. He learned you go to your salon every 3 months to keep your hair touched up and split ends cut. You only ever eat ice cream on good days, like the time you had called them about your promotion at work, he found you eating your usual mix of ice cream after that.
Marc was last to fall in love with you,last to realize that he had affection in his body for you. His started after he came to visit you at work,you were talking to a coworker. Well, he was flirting and you were totally oblivious to it. Marc felt his blood boil as you laughed along with him his hand touching your arm. It sent him into a frenzy almost you were his, why were you talking to him? Letting him touch you? That’s when it hit him. You weren’t his, you were just his friend.
When you had called Marc in tears a few nights later about how that same coworker was found dead he made sure to comfort you. Even if there was a chance Jake was the cause of the man’s downfall.
You soon began spending almost all your time with the boys, Marc would pick you up after work, Steven would always come visit you and Jake well he was just randomly fronting during that. Today, today was different though, Steven had offered to make you dinner and you loved his cooking how could you say no. How it turned you still weren’t entirely sure what made something inside Marc snap.
“So then, they take me to this random club” you said, you were talking to Steven about your friends taking you out a few nights ago. “You don’t do clubs” he pointed out and you nodded “right!, so now I was drinking this i don’t know it’s some type of fruity thing” Steven chuckled as you continued “this guy comes up to me, he’s tall,skinny, nice hair,really pretty green eyes and he’s just making chit-chat with me” you payed no attention to the way Stevens body tightened,his jaw clenching,his hand tightening around the glass he was holding.
“He’s not my type, so I’m not even thinking about it like that, but he all at once leans in way too close for comfort and I just panic and lean back as he leaned in until I was like- bent in half” you let out a soft giggle finally realizing the state of Steven. “You okay? Stevie?” You reached out to touch his arm. “Yeah! Sorry I spaced out, why’d you panic? You’ve kissed people before” you shrugged “yeah, but not random men at a bar” Steven shrugged “can I ask you something?” You nodded.
There was one thing the boys noticed about you, you don’t like physical touch. The first time marc went to hug you you flinched away from him. You don’t seem to have many friends aside from Steven and what ones you do have,you never talk about. They thought you were a private person at first but then you started showing other signs of something more. You’d be out with one of them and flinch at a sound or loud noise.
One time Marc went shopping with you and you’d eye clothes and then mumble something like ‘it shows too much’ or ‘it won’t look good’ when Marc knew that was a lie, you had a beautiful figure.
The separation was the worst part, Jake had spent the night at your flat a few weeks back and he’d gotten up to get a glass of water and the sound of you running into the kitchen caught his attention. “You alright, Princessa?” He asked and you nodded smiling “jus’…didn’t know if you left” you looked terrified to be alone.
That’s why they were bringing it up, only talking about it if you wanted to. “So we were just curious…did something happen?” You sat down the glass of water you were drinking and sighed. “Stevie..I don’t- I don’t think you wanna hear this.” He nodded “who would be better?” You shrugged “Marc? Maybe?” He nodded immediately handing the body over to Marc.
“Hi, pretty girl” you smiled over at him “you don’t have to tell if you don’t want to, I’ll be right here for you. Swear” his hand darted out to your exposed thigh in the shorts you were wearing. “No, I wanna tell you. It’s just though I know Steven can still hear it I can’t stand the sad look he’d have once he’d heard it” Marc tilted his head. “And Jake…well he’d probably wanna kill him..so” Marc smiled “right. Well I’m here to listen pretty girl, not gonna judge” you feel relief.
“Well, to point it out straight. My ex he abused me in more ways then one.” Marc’s grip on your thigh tightened and you sighed at the comfort. “I was 14 when I met him, he was 16 I shouldn’t of done things that I did, but I was kid so I was dumb.” You sighed softly. “He didn’t touch me until a year before he proposed, I was 15 at this point and was madly in love with him. I can’t even remember what made him so upset but what I do remember was that he had hit me.” You looked over to see Marc starting at you intently, showing he was listening.
“He wouldn’t let me see my friends, excluded me from them. Only if he was with me could I go because he wanted to make sure I didn’t cheat. I would wake up to him being gone at random hours of the night, he wouldn’t answer his phone and he’d come back smelling of cheap perfume and sex.” You sighed “I felt trapped inside the relationship. You know my parents weren’t around. I had no friends,no job I didn’t really even go out all that much. I didn’t have anyway to get help” you took a deep breath.
“You don’t have to continue, I don’t want you to cause things to resurface” you smiled at him and grabbed a hold of his hand. “I’m okay, promise. The abuse only got worse and I began to hate myself. I felt like the relationship was my fault, I said yes to the date,I agreed. It was my fault I was in that situation and it was my fault I couldn’t get out of it. Eventually on my 17th birthday he proposed, said he was gonna change and apologized for everything. I believed him” you sighed shaking your head partially at your own stupidity.
“The next few months were great until he started disappearing at night again, the verbal abuse started again and I knew before long the physical aspect would come back. So…” You rubbed the back of his knuckles with your thumb, calming yourself and him with the action. “I reached back out to a friend, asked is they could help. They did and within a week I had gotten all my stuff and moved in with them, I left the ring on his bedside table and just left.”
“Good, you did a good job” Marc said and you smiled “I don’t get triggered by a lot just some things can still make me flinch like fast movements or sounds. I sometimes have that same headspace when shopping though I try not to” Marc shifted closer to you “I’m just gonna hug you” he warned and you smiled as he wrapped his arms around you. “You didn’t do any of that love, none of that was your fault, you were a kid and he took advantage of that. Don’t blame yourself.” You nodded into his chest as Marc finally pulled from the hug.
“You’re beautiful love, not a thing about you is anything but perfection. If you need a reminder just let us know” you giggled at him and sniffled a bit. “Thank you” he kissed your forehead and you smiled. “Well we both got issues I guess” he said and you laughed “yeah, we do” Marc smiled at you and you felt safe totally and completely safe.
“Marc..” you said and he looked at you with a smile “yeah?” You placed your hand on his cheek and leaned forward kissing him softly. You pulled away only to have Marc pull you back into him kissing you with a lot more passion.
The rest was a blur, mumbled words and clothes being tossed around in between kisses. You blamed it on you feeling vulnerable,or the heat of the moment but you knew it wasn’t true, you were in love, in love with all 3 of them.
Your head fell back as you gripped the sheet’s beneath you your orgasm tearing through you like a train. “Fuck” you Chanted it over and over as Marc’s tongue worked you through your high. He only stopped when you let the cutest whine out at the overstimulation. Your body went limp as Marc trailed kisses up your navel and stomach stooping to suck against your harden nipple. You gasped at the feeling as he bit and sucked against it, moving to your other and giving it the same treatment.
“You look so dazed, so pretty” he mumbled as your looked up at him hovering above you. You watched him glance back at the mirror that set diagonal from his bed and smiled. “Let him out” you said and Marc looked back at you “but love, he’s-” you shook your head “I’m fine, let him out” Marc sighed. You weren’t sure which one was pestering him but one of them was.
“You don’t know how delicious you are. You look so beautiful” Jake, of course it was jake. You smiled at him “stop pestering Marc” you scolded and he chuckled “it got me what I want” you giggled “be nice to him!” You demanded flicking his forehead. “Did you just flick me?” He questioned and you shrugged “maybe..” Jake clicked his tongue and you squealed when he flipped you over your stomach making a soft thud as it landed on Stevens sheets.
“Well just for that, you lost your hands” he said pulling them behind your back he held them together with one of his hands. “Let me make something clear princessa,you do what I say when I say it and if you dare disobey me I’ll make sure you hurt for it.” The threat should have scared you really but it didn’t, it elected heat in your core. “Yes,Sir” he chuckled “see, your well mannered. Just needed a reminder huh?” You nodded bitting your lip as you smiled.
“Your dripping, look at what a mess Marc made. So wet for me” you gasped when you felt his fingers press inside you. You were still slightly sensitive from your previous orgasm and the feeling of his fingers stretching you out made you see white. It felt so good. You let out soft mewls as his fingers worked you back up “you’re so fucking pretty, look at you my dumb little princessa. You want my cock? Hmm? Want me to fill you up until you burst baby?” You nodded with a whine. “Then you should try to take my fingers better” you sobbed out when his fingers sunk deeper inside you.
Jake was going feral watching you swallow up his fingers the sloppy sounds only making him that much harder. “Sir…more please” he lifted his head smiling at you “what was that?” He asked and you whined “more…I want more” Jake shook his head. “Princessa, I know you can beg better then that.” You whined pushing your hips back onto his hand. You gasped when a sharp slap landed on your bottom. “Fucking slut, I didn’t say to move I said Fucking beg.” His fingers were pulled from you and you whined out.
“Shut it, bad little girls don’t get what they want.” He dropped a hold of your wrists “don’t you dare fucking touch me.” He warned as his hands grabbed your hips shifting you into his lap your back to his chest. Jake shoved his slick covered fingers into your mouth and you groaned at the taste of yourself. “Naughty little baby, trying to fuck yourself on daddy’s fingers.” His hand dropped down rubbing soft circles on your clit while you sucked against his other hand.
You whined and squirmed trying your best to keep your hands to yourself as he teased your clit, your hips bucking wanting more pleasure. “Look at you all squirmy baby, fucking needy, you desperately trying to get daddy inside you huh? You just can’t think properly without me inside you, isn’t that right princessa?” He pulled his fingers from your mouth and you nodded. “Yes daddy, it is.” You agreed and Jake hummed “you’re a dirty girl aren’t you? Calling me daddy? And here we thought you were a innocent little baby. You aren’t though are you?” You shook your head. “Good girl” he praised as he lifted your hips allowing you to sink down onto him.
“Hello, love”’you sighed your head felt like it was spinning “stevie…” you whined “it’s okay love, I know I know. It’s a lot isn’t it baby? Too much for you?” He asked and you shook your head. “Feels so good” Steven chuckled “but I’m not even moving baby” you just whined head dropping back onto his shoulder.
Steven was new to it but he wasn’t dumb, it was obvious you weren’t in the right headspace anymore to properly talk. It made Steven feel all that more soft for you, wanting to take care of you when you’re like this.
“Shh, it’s okay I’ve got you love, I’m gonna take such good care of you” he assured pushing your hair behind your ears as he started to thrust up into you, gentle and soft. “Doing so good baby, taking me so well!” He praised as his thrusts slowly picked up a faster pace. All you could do was moan and whine in return too far gone to form proper words. “Feels good huh love? I know it feels good for me, so perfect for us buttercup, fucking amazing” he kissed your temple and you whined.
“Wanna touch? You can touch baby, you’ve done good you’re doing a good job” you whined reaching for his hand to intwine your fingers. “Awh such a good baby, so sweet and soft for us, Good girl” you whined at the praise feeling your stomach tightening up “gonna…can’t” you babbled and Steven hushed you. “It’s okay love, I know. Let go it’ll feel so good, wanna feel you cum for me buttercup, cmon cum for me I know you can baby” you squeezed his hand as you came.
Your orgasm was rougher then before but you couldn’t even tell all you felt was the intense pleasure. “Gonna cum, gonna shoot it all out inside your pretty little tummy baby” Steven cooed and followed through. His cock twitched inside you you felt the spurts filling you up to the brim.
“Good girl, good. yes such a good baby” you sighed smiling at him sleepily. You stayed quite for a few minutes focusing on your breathing you felt his arms tightened around you and sighed welcoming the feeling. “Damnit, look at you baby, my pretty girl so ruined.” You hummed in response. “Gonna clean daddy up?” He asked and you nodded “whatever daddy wants” you mumbled and Marc smiled. “Yeah, clean daddy up because you’re such a messy little baby.”
You turned around once he was fully out licking up the mess of your cum mixed with his. “Good girl, look up at me” he said lifting your chin “so Fucking dazed, so cute” he scrunched his nose up at you and tapped your lips with his thumb. You dropped your mouth open and Marc leaned forward dripping spit into your mouth before you swallowed.
“Let’s get you cleaned up baby” he cooed and you nodded, Marc left long enough to get a wet washcloth wiping you and your legs clean. Really you should both take a shower but neither of you had the energy so he slid back in the bed allowing you to cuddle into his chest. “Goodnight pretty girl” you smiled at him “goodnight, daddy” Marc let out a hum and kissed your head.
••••••••••••••••••••••
Taglist: @marvel1984 @chalkymoon @glxwingrxse @sweet-beliefs @dopeqff @Delightfulavenueprince @guyinachair27
••••••••••••••••••••••
#fem reader#steven grant x jake lockley#steven grant x y/n#steven grant smut#steven grant x marc spector#steven grant x reader#steven grant x you#steven grant#marc spector smut#marc spector x y/n#marc spector x steven grant#marc spector x reader#marc spector x you#marc spector#jake lockley smut#jake lockley x you#jake lockley#jake lockely x you
498 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
ivannascrew
Untitled
zjofierose
The Final Frontier
tellmewhy
im youronyourownkid
pokadandelion
Pretty as a Hummingbird
payday-2-cheats-y2
🏅 payday 2 cheats (PC 100% working) 7PB+