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#vintage store front
xero013 · 1 year
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Gift 🚇⚡
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newyorkthegoldenage · 4 months
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On January 18, 1943, the newspaper PM published this series of photos by Weegee of signs hanging on the doors of shops around the city. They show the effect the war was having on retail trade—relocations, the draft, stock shortages, gas rationing, help needed.
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oldfarmhouse · 2 months
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countrystylemag@ig
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omp4n · 2 months
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Shimo-Ochiai. Shinjuku City. Tokyo, Japan.
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retropopcult · 1 year
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"Why greases must be saved. Introducing two good soldiers of the home front: the housewife who saves her waste household fats and greases, and the butcher to whom she gives this salvaged fat after she has collected at least one pound, strained it through a metal sieve and poured it into a large, wide-mouthed can. Butchers displaying the poster shown here will pay householders for the fat, and sell it to rendering plants thereby turning this valuable material into industrial channels where it will be processed into ammunition for America's fighting men." Photographed 1942 by Ann Rosener for the Office of War Information,
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montrealmagique · 2 months
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2013
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vanishingsydney · 2 years
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Friendly Grocer (1918). Built in the dying stages of WW1 as a produce store with shop fronts. The grocer survived the Pandemic and just keeps on keeping on. Lilyfield.
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☠️ Vintage western sleeveless shirt done! 🍻
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sunuism · 2 years
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i need to start planning what i’m gonna wear at the tbz concert…
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femvaylin · 5 months
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Ah, christmas, the one day Half a Fucking Pig is breakfast
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https://www.pinterest.com.
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always-a-slut-4-ghouls · 11 months
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The building I live in was like “we got rid the spider infestation” last fall I think, and now that it’s warm out I am seeing more other bugs in here than I did last year. Like, I wonder why that is 🤨 they asked “how do we get rid of the spiders?” And not “what are the spiders munching on and are they helping?”
#emma posts#I’m not really into the idea of getting an exterminator in here and if i only see a few silverfish I figure it’s not worth telling the#building even though you are supposed to tell them about EVERY bug#I’ll just seal more food up tight. clean more often. make sure to get soap scum#get a dehumidifier and buy some of that fossil algae stuff#I don’t enjoy fighting bugs and silverfish are mostly harmless#but I have a lot of dry pasta. books. and paper writing and art#things which I’m a bit protective of#I think the little guy might have come in on this very old book my mom’s friend gave me#i hadn’t seen any before that#i suppose it could also be from another unit somehow#there is a gap in each front door#mom’s friend was like ‘so you want a very vintage book someone I know was getting rid of. it’s about your special interest’#I’m paraphrasing but I looked it over and obviously said yes#I mean. it was free and from and interesting time in the studying of that science#it’s a book from the (I believe late) 1800s about geology/paleontology on this continent#a very interesting topic and a very interesting period in the history of this subjects studies#but it being that old and the first bug showing up after I took it home makes me suspect the book might be the source#i only have one other book that is that old and it had been stored in a sealed plastic bag#I don’t expect to never encounter something from my vintage thrift books. but this is a first tbh#the spiders here are mostly chill too and not very dangerous#the venom can hurt a bit but unless you have allergies it probably won’t kill you#and they are very chill and skittish anyway#if it was all deadly spiders id maybe get it. but it’s just chill guys#I’ve befriend several in the past#I don’t enjoy killing or kicking out bugs but we all have to draw the line somewhere and live trapping a lot is often feasible#but not so much for these guys#they would eat most of what I own#fabric. paper. dried goods. that’s like half of what I have in the place#besides! I’ve only seen one and I looked for them at night with a flashlight
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dante-mightdie · 12 days
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MORE ANGST.
Like, okay, more angst for reader, but I need some angst for 141. Like PLEASE.
So, the reader, frustrated (mentally and physically), decides to take things onto their own hands. If they treat them as if they don't exist, so will they. It starts simple. They don't greet them good morning and goodbye anymore, when the team would only offer a grunt or nod of acknowledgment. Reader doesn't ask them to hang out, or to join into their plans. They start living for themselves, not quite leaving them, more like treating the four men like roommates. Whenever one would initiate intimacy, reader would slip away, offering some lame excuse. At the same time, just an hour later, they'd see a glimpse of reader, all dressed up and pretty, not bothering to let them know where they'd be going as they run out the front door, only to be heared from a couple of hours later. Stumbling through the front door with a second pair of footsteps following suit, and a hearty male laugh. The apartment was as much reader's as it was the boys' so it should be normal they brought someone home ... but was this what the task force 141 though?
changed it ever so slightly but I love this yes
c/w: poly!141, mentions of emotional neglect, alcohol, intoxication
you got the idea after scrolling through social media, rotting away in bed had become a common routine for you. an advertisement had popped up for a bar that opened up a few months ago, you remember asking johnny and kyle to go with you but they were too busy at the time
it looked like a nice enough place. not like the dive bars in camden that simon takes you to, or those annoying ass scotch bars in canary wharf that john insists on ‘introducing’ you to. as if you’ve never had a glass of scotch before. the memory makes you scoff to yourself
surprisingly, it doesn’t take much to convince yourself to just… go. if they won’t go with you, there’s no reason why you can’t convince yourself. they were too busy ignoring you to notice you’d be gone anyway. so, you drag yourself out of bed and rifle through the wardrobe for something to wear
looking good really does make you feel good, you say to yourself when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror once you were ready. you’d decided on a fitted black dress with a pair of black strapped heels. they wouldn’t notice but you added a bit of detail to the outfit
if they did notice that every piece of jewellery was a piece they had bought for you, it would fucking burn. the diamond skull-shaped studs that simon got you, the vintage locket that john had found for you when he was deployed, and the anklet that kyle had grabbed from some fancy jewellery store on oxford street paired with the stunning ring that johnny found at a local market in scotland
you took a deep breath and held your head high before grabbing your purse. when you entered the front room, all conversation stopped as usual. but only because they were too busy eyeing you up and down, “where’re you goin’ dressed like that?”
you roll your eyes when john speaks up, not even stopping to respond. a curt ‘out’ leaving your lips as you walk out the front door and slam it loudly. the boys all looked at each other, shifting in their seats uncomfortably at the interaction
john narrowed his eyes as he glared at the front door. he didn’t like not knowing where you were. even if you didn’t know it, john always knew about your whereabouts
the bar was nice, nice enough for you to drink your feelings away in. in your head, you imagined flirting with anyone just to make the boys jealous. but every time someone approached you, it just filled you with more sadness. perhaps a part of you just wanted the boys to grab you, persuade you to stay with sweet words and gentle kisses like they used to do when you looked this good
it was a few hours past midnight when you finally returned, simon awakened by the sounds of giggling outside and your keys jangling in the door. he didn’t plan on getting out of bed until he heard a male voice speaking along side yours
he stalked down the stairs, following the sounds of your heels stumbling until he found you in the front room. you were drunk out of your fucking mind with some random bloke holding you up. simon’s fists clenched at his side and he decided to make his presence known
“better take your hand off her before you fuckin’ lose it, mate.” he spits, taking a step closer to yank you from the man’s grip. you squeak and stumble from the harsh tug, landing right against simon’s bulky frame as he holds on to your arm to keep you steady
the man takes a step back, holding his hands up in surrender. “woah, i’m not here to cause any trouble. was just making sure she got home safe. my colleague over served her and she said her roommates were too busy to pick her up.”
simon clenches his jaw, keeping his gaze on the man and just waiting for him to step out of line. he doesn’t even notice that the others have climbed out of bed too, coming downstairs to hear what the commotion is about
he turns his head only to shove you into price’s arms, squaring his shoulders as he stares the bartender down. “well, our girl is home and safe now so you best be on your way.”
“relax, mate. she’s really not my type. that one there is more my type.” the bartender chuckles, nodding his head towards soap before turning around and walking out the door but not before giving you a goodbye
price steadies your body against him, already getting an idea of the kind of drunken state that you’re in. he lifts your basically limp body into his arms before carrying you up to bed but he doesn’t take you to the spare room. he takes you to what you have recently come to know as their room
“had a bit too much, princess?” he chuckles, placing you down on the bed. you look at him confused before letting your head fall to the pillow
“‘m still your princess?” you mumble into the fabric. price frowns slightly, turning his head to look at the boys before making work on taking your heels off
“course. you always have been.” he mumbles. you respond with a small hum before completely passing out against the sheets…
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keeksandgigz · 5 months
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the love witch
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modern!eddie munson x fem!witchy!reader
summary: Eddie Munson is obsessed with his girlfriend. Hell, he's not even sure how he was able to get you interested in him in the first place. Despite him not really believing in your witchy practices, he's incredibly supportive, but that doesn't come without his cheeky digs. He agrees to a tarot reading for shits and giggles. You don't like that he doesn't take it seriously.
cw: no y/n, reader's nickname is 'witchy' , talk of the occult, wiccan practices, description of r's clothing, but no body description, reader has female anatomy, oral (F receiving), face sitting, sub!Eddie, dom!Reader, choking, slight biting, dirty talk, honorifics, unprotected piv (pls don't do that), ending leans towards the whole witchy vibe
word count: 4.8k
this and all my works are 18+ minors do NOT interact
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Eddie Munson is one lucky motherfucker. 
Living in a small studio apartment in the Haight-Ashbury of San Francisco, which he got a damn good price on. 
He works at one of the many vintage record stores in the neighborhood, which pulsates with raw musical energy, almost as if he steps in the 70s every time he gets out of the front door of his apartment building.
Sometimes he just sits on his fire escape to fuck around with his guitar, inspired by the smells of incense coming from the crystal shops, the music coming from the vintage clothing stores and the pungent smell of lingering weed at all hours of the day.
And with the shaggy, long, brown curls, bullet belt and chains, his black cutoff band t- shirts and heavy lace up boots, he seems to fit right in- for the first time in his life. 
Next to his record store there is one of the many crystal shops on the high street, a tiny little nook he always walks by on the way to work and snickers to himself. There’s no way people believe in all that.
He stops doing that once he meets you. 
Eddie Munson is one lucky motherfucker because he crosses paths with you.
He meets you while he is on his lunch break, using those thirty minutes of peace to walk around and usually pick up some prerolls from the dispensary a couple buildings down, or he lingers in front of the guitar store on the other side of the street, ogling at a B.C. Rich or an Ibanez, spending his break in there, fucking around with a cool amp. 
He meets you on an off day. A day where he doesn't feel like walking around, so he just stands in front of his store smoking a cigarette. You're walking a longtime client out of the crystal shop next door. 
“Thank you for that dried lavender, Janice! I’ll set aside some of that incense for you when we get the shipment” he hears you say. He turns around, snickers at your words while Janice passes in front of him, disappearing in the Saturday afternoon crowd. 
“Something funny?” you ask. Your voice feels smooth like honey wine. He turns around, and suddenly he doesn't feel like snickering anymore.
You look so pretty, the kind of pretty that is almost otherworldly. Like you could’ve come up in his head while planning a DnD campaign. Purple bell sleeve top, a long, black, flowy skirt and lace- up boots. Dressed like his own elven high priestess. 
He realizes he’d been staring at you for a good silent minute. He nervously breaks eye contact to put out his cigarette on the sole of his Docs. 
“Sorry– heh, just don’t really believe in all that stuff” he says, shrugging. In doing that, his evidently too- short shirt rides up, exposing a sliver of the skin of his tummy, which doesn’t go unnoticed to you. 
You lean on the doorframe of the store “What’s your name again?” you ask, a feline smile creeping on your lips. 
He swallows “I um- haven’t told you my- It’s Edward- Eddie!” he corrects himself, you got him flustered “Nobody calls me Edward” he remarks. 
His stammer makes you smile, like he's a wounded puppy dog. 
“Alright Edward Eddie, see you around” and with that you disappear back into the store. 
It takes Eddie a week to learn your name, asking the owner of the crystal shop you work at with no luck, then running into Janice a week later, who kindly tells him your name and then raves about you for a good ten minutes. Quite the hypewoman. 
It takes Eddie another two weeks to ask you out on a date. You're wearing a long mauvish dress under a white cardigan when he sees you walk into the store. Your hair is pulled back from your face and he swears he sees stars in your eyes. 
You say yes and agree to meet at a coffee shop, and by the end of the day, he asks you for a second date. And then a third, and a fourth, and by the arrival of fall, Eddie Munson has a girlfriend.
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Eddie Munson is obsessed with his girlfriend.
He even jokes with his friends that his witch girlfriend put a spell on him. Made him drink a love potion, because he can't justify him being so obsessed with you.
Another thing he can't justify is you actually liking him. Sometimes he still needs to pinch himself to make sure it's not all a joke.
A pretty girl that looks like she's straight out of his DnD fantasies is dating him? There's no way shit like that happens to Edward Munson.
Although his apartment is right above the record shop, which means sneaking away for a quickie whenever you guys have matched up work schedules, he loves your apartment.
Twenty minutes away from Haight- Ashbury, in Twin Peaks, there lies your apartment. In an old building from the sixties or seventies, you have it decorated with tapestries and sun- catchers and rugs and pillows and cushions. It's a joy for Eddie's senses.
And with dating you, came Circe, your black cat who seems to have taken an almost immediate liking to Eddie.
Your apartment always smells like incense and candles, a smell you bring with you wherever you go. A smell Eddie loves. There are plants hanging from the ceiling and a big purple couch in the living room.
Everything is antique, lucky finds from thrift stores or flea markets. The table, chairs. The bookcases that hold your witchy books and your crystals.
The first time he comes over he picks one up. A carnelian.
"So, these pretty rocks are supposed to... what?" he asks, toying with every bit and bob on your bookshelf.
"They're crystals, Eddie. And each different one has a purpose. That one you're holding is a carnelian" you say, pouring him a cup of loose- leaf herbal tea, and pointing at the crystal with your nose.
"Okay, and what's it do?" he asks, toying with the smooth surface and going to sit on the ground next to you. He blows on his tea and takes a sip. He isn't a tea enjoyer, but for you he could be.
"Well, a lot of things, but primarily carnelians help boost sexual energy-" you get interrupted by Eddie sputtering out his tea. Some of it lands on you, which causes you to let out a shriek.
The ridiculousness of the situation is both endearing and hilarious. The poor guy probably didn't expect you being so blunt about your use of crystals to aid your sex life.
A giggle escapes you while Eddie tinges a deep shade of crimson from the embarrassment. He shakily sets down the teacup and saucer.
"Shi-shit sorry, lemme help you clean it up" he says, scrambling for the napkins on the coffee table to clean his mess up.
"You got some on me, Eddie" you say as you move your hair from your face to let him clean up the spit- out tea from your cheek.
"Oh my god, sorry lemme get that" he repeats, flushed.
He's shaky in reaching for the napkin to wipe your skin, afraid that he might have ruined his shot at dating you just because he cannot keep his mouth shut.
"It's honestly not a big deal, Ed. It was just funny for the most part" you smile at him, reaching your hand to lay his head on your shoulder. He breathes again.
Once he's calmed down he continues his curious interview.
"So what, do you put it up your pussy or something?" The idea of it makes Eddie's blood run slightly hotter. You laugh.
He blushes at your reaction, feeling slightly embarrassed once he registers what he had just said.
A sheepish "sorry" escapes his lips.
"No, no it's fine" you chuckle "not exactly. You just kinda charge them and set intentions. Then you can take it with you on, like, a date, if you wanna hope for something more" you say. He becomes very aware of his hard- on when you say that.
There is a thick sense of expectation in the air once those words leave your mouth. It could be the thick incense smoke floating around the room, or it could be the way you're looking at him like you want to eat him whole. Your faces get closer.
"I brought one with me today, actually" you admit. And he has never taken his shirt off so fast in his life.
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So every time you hang out, he carries a piece if carnelian in his pocket, in hopes to repeat what happened at your apartment.
With time, he learns to carry a rose quartz with him, too.
Soon after, you begin gifting him crystals and bracelets to carry with him. He likes his black tourmaline beaded bracelet the best.
"It's for protection" you had said. It's just very metal to him.
He never really believes in it, but it's sweet, seeing you show up to his apartment with little colorful rocks to put on his windowsill. You teach him how to recharge them and set intentions, but after the second or third time he just can't be bothered.
He quickly learns it's not just pretty rocks you're interested in. You're, like, a full- fledged witch. Hence, the nickname 'witchy' he'd given you.
You ask him for the time and place of his birth. He scrambles to text his uncle Wayne to ask if he remembers what time he's born.
After a couple days of searching, Wayne comes across Elizabeth Munson's old diary. Indianapolis, Indiana, December 21st, 1997 at 3:47 AM.
Eddie Munson has a birth chart.
Sagittarius sun, Scorpio moon, Aries rising.
Whatever that means.
You try to explain it to him, but to no avail. He doesn't really care much for the stars. Except the ones in your eyes.
He swears he can see them twinkle every time you're laying on your brocade rug in the candle lit living room. He learns you don't really use your couch, rather, you just lay on the floor, among a pile of pillows.
Sometimes you're watching TV together. You're sat in between his legs, leaning against his chest, while Circe lays on your lap. And you look at his palms, tracing the fine lines and ridges of his calloused hands.
"You have lines on the top of your hand" you whisper, kissing his fingers.
He blows the cigarette smoke out the open window, careful not to make your house smell.
"Yeah, no shit. We all have 'em, witchy" he places a kiss to the crown of your head.
"No, look right here" you say, tracing the faint lines right where his callouses are "lines like this means you're gonna have a long life" you kiss that spot on his hand. Coarse, but warm.
"Thank fuck, imagine if i just got hit by a cable car tomorrow?" he chuckles, going back to watching TV.
You trace a deep line that goes across the palm of his hand, you smile to yourself.
"Whatcha smilin' about, witchy?" he says, eyes still glued on the TV.
"You have a double heart line. Means you love a lot" you turn and give him a smile. One of those that make your eyes sparkle in the candlelight.
"If I have a double heart line, does that mean I love you more?" he asks, sickly sweet. He cringes at himself for swearing he wasn't going to be that guy, but when you look at him like he just hung the moon for you, he can allow himself to be disgustingly sappy.
You think about it, because he does have a point, but you don't want to make him win this two- month long game you've been playing, so instead you take his palm once more.
"Look, Ed" you say, pointing at a random prominent line "this line tells me you're an asshole" you laugh, as he pinches your sides and you try to squirm away, but his hands are holding you firmly while planting sloppy kisses everywhere he could reach.
Cheek, neck, shoulder. He inhales the curve between your neck and shoulder, and you swear your feel a bit of tongue poke out between his lips. Then he stops.
And you feel it. Deeply seated at the bottom of your back, pressing against the exposed skin between your shirt and pants.
Eddie loves the way you smell, intoxicated by the smell of lavender incense and some kind of berry perfume you wear.
He's convinced that perfume is actually just a pheromone concentrate, because he cannot stop the blood rushing to his dick everytime he catches a whiff of the sweet berries, nestled in the crook of your neck, behind your ear.
"And where's the line that tells me I'm gonna get a kiss?" Eddie asks, voice low and gravelly, a voice that fills you with need, makes your breath falter from your lungs, replacing it with water. But you kiss him nonetheless, and maybe him getting a kiss is written in the stars, after all.
He softly grabs your hair as he slips his tongue in your mouth. Honey- wine whimpers falling from your lips, as you try and get Circe off your lap and in literally any other room. The cat seems to be unbothered.
"Ed... she doesn't want to move" you whine, high pitched voice expressing annoyance, but also overwhelmed at how cute your cat is.
"She's the biggest cockblocker in history" he mutters annoyed, you laugh. A groan leaves his mouth.
"Leave her alone she's just a baby! Us having sex tonight just wasn't in the stars" you shrug, light and airy as you go back to leaning on his chest and petting Circe.
Fuck the stars. He huffs, accepting his fate
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He waits for you outside of the shop when he's not working. Guitar case slung around his shoulders, so he can practice at yours, he picks you up and you take the train to your apartment.
"How was work today, witchy?" he asks, roping a hand around your shoulders and giving you a tender kiss on your head.
"Meh, a. bunch of wannabe Tiktok witches, a bunch of old ladies booking tarot readings and threatening to leave bad reviews because I told them their husband is cheating on them or something" you shrug getting on the bus "Janice came, though, she brought me some jasmine flowers so I can make love tea" you say, sitting down. He sits next to you.
You take out the small satchel of dried jasmine flowers, taking in the sweet scent of citrusy flowers.
"Love tea?" he asks "that what you give me when I come over to your apartment every time?" he dips his nose in the satchel, giving it a sniff.
"Yeah, you wish" you laugh "just peppermint tea. Don't want you accusing me I put a love spell on you" Eddie smiles and lays your head on his shoulder while you play with the tassels of your bag, letting you close your eyes for the twenty minutes of the train ride.
Once you're home he slings the guitar case off his shoulders and takes it out, sitting at the stools of your breakfast counter, while you empty the contents of your bag.
Herbs, oils and a new card deck.
"So, what do you need to do now?" he asks, pulling out his phone, looking for guitar tabs to practice on.
"'kay, so" you begin "I need to make tea blend, then putting stuff together for this new project I'm working on, and then break out this new deck I got from work" you say, lost in the mysticism of your to- do list.
Sometimes he finds it funny that the stuff you have to worry about is totally otherworldly to what he usually worries about.
He watches you break out the mortar and pestle while you measure a teaspoon of dried rosebuds, a teaspoon of dried lavender buds, a teaspoon of jasmine and a pinch of cinnamon. He mindlessly plays a couple chords from a song he heard at the record shop.
"What's the cinnamon for?" he asks, pointing at the jar.
"Spicing things up? Cinnamon is a spice, so could be. I'm trying out this new recipe" you say, grinding the flowers together.
"So what you're saying" he begins, looking up from his guitar "is that you're making sex tea" and the feline grin plastered on your face is enough to make you wanna smack him in the head.
"This is not sex tea, Edward" you interject sternly while pouring the contents of the mortar in a new jar.
You light an incense stick, a rose infused one, to set your intentions for this batch, then putting it to rest on your windowsill for the night.
"What are you doing, witchy?" he asks, following your gaze as you set down the jar.
"It's for the moon. Charges the tea" you say, nonchalantly "can you pass me that deck on the counter, please?" you sit on the carpet legs crossed, while Eddie reaches for the card deck and tosses it at you. You catch it.
He sets down his guitar against the counter to goes to stand in front of you as you take the tarot cards out of the deck and start shuffling them.
"What's that baby?" he asks, he swears he can never stop learning from you.
"My new tarot deck, I need to break it out. Want me to give you a reading?" you ask, hoping he'll say yes.
He truly thinks about it, because he doesn't believe in any of this stuff, but saying no to you and watching your eyes darken with sadness is something he doesn't want to put himself through.
He is a weak, weak man.
He shrugs. "Alright then" he says, sitting down on one of the cushy pink pillows on the floor of your apartment "gimme a reading, you little witch"
Your ringed hands shuffle the gold filigree cards.
"I'm gonna do a regular spread, 'kay? Just past, present, future" you look at him, and he swears he sees your eyes twinkling again in the light of the glass lamp on the side table.
You fan out the cards on the carpet and let him pick three cards.
He's reluctant about this, all he really wants is to cook dinner together and spend the evening with you.
You spread the three cards out and unveil the first one.
"Okay, so that's The Empress. Means you have a significant female figure in your life. It usually represents feminine beauty, abundance" you say, explaining it to him.
"You got some abundance, alright" he huffs a laugh, quickly silenced by a deathly stare. You didn't like it when he made fun of what you liked. You roll your eyes at him.
"Sorry, witchy. Keep going" he smiles, like he's about to crack another joke.
"Yeah, okay." you flip the middle card "what luck. You got the lovers" you say, unenthusiastically.
Eddie's eyes light up at the possibility of a joke "Is that the card that tells me I'm getting some sick pussy in the next five minutes?" he asks, his tone makes you want to throw the empty box of cards at his head.
"It looks like you're not taking it seriously, so what's the point" you go to stand up, but he stops you.
"Sorry, baby, please don't leave. I'm enjoying this, Sorry, I won't make any more jokes, I promise" he pleads, and a wicked idea sparks in your head. He sounds really pretty when he begs.
You let out an annoyed groan as you sit back down and you unveil the last card, his future.
Ace of wands. Sex really was in his cards tonight.
"What's that, baby?" he asks.
"Ace of wands. Looks like you're gonna get some 'sick pussy' after all, Munson. Lie down." You command.
He flushes red. "Huh?" you reach under your long skirt to remove your panties.
"I said lie down, I'm giving you what the cards said" you stare at him, expectation in your eyes as he lays down on the brocade carpet, unsure if he should feel afraid or like the luckiest motherfucker alive.
"Better put in the work, pretty boy" you say, crawling on top of him, he looks at you, eyes blown as you lift your skirt, climbing the length of his body. You reach a resting place right on top of his mouth.
It takes him a second to register that you're sitting on his face, and his tongue darts out of his open mouth, to shyly have a taste.
"C'mon now, Eddie, where is the passion? You seemed really passionate about cracking jokes earlier, didn't you?" you cooed, holding up your shirt to look at his eyes, twinkling and darkened as his tongue begins to lap up the length of your pussy.
He gets the hang of it as your hips begin to grind on his face, his tongue darting in and out of your hole as his nose bumps deliciously against your clit.
"Mmm fuck" you gasp as you raise your hips to let him breathe, but he just pulls you down harder. A gasp escapes your mouth as the sound of your moans and Eddie's slurping fills the room.
Even he hears it, because you can see his eyes roll to the back of his head as a resounding hum escapes his lips, vibrating against you, wet and sensitive.
A whine leaves your mouth as you begin to get more desperate, grabbing a handful of his hair, grinding your hips harder against his tongue.
"Doing so good for me, Ed." you say in a feeble attempt to keep the reins controlled, but his tongue works magic on you, making your brain turn to mush.
"There you go don't stop, don't you dare fucking stop" you command, and his tongue flicks against your clit, catching it between his teeth to begin to suck at it.
A mewl leaves your lips, feeling the familiar warmth in your belly begin to form as you pull harder on his hair, moans becoming more high pitched and strained as Eddie makes quick work of his tongue on you.
"'mgonna cum on your face, you want that?" you ask, a rhetorical question, because of course he wants you to gush all over him.
And so you do. You come with a silent scream, riding the orgasm out with the last few snaps of your hips, as your breathing stills and your vision goes white.
Eddie's also panting like a dog under you, aching in his pants for you to make him cum.
You get off his mouth, his chin coated with your fluids as he gathers them on his fingers and sticks them in his mouth. You can't help but mutter a "good boy" as you reach for the belt of his pants.
"Sit up" you command, as he goes to straighten his back and lean against your purple couch.
You take off his shirt "I'm gonna ride you, yeah?" he looks at you like you've just discovered that aliens are real.
"God, yes please, please" he says, looking up at you as you unzip your top off, and you swear his eyes grow bigger at the sight of your chest, your bra still on. A longing sigh leaves his mouth.
You unbutton his jeans and lower them to his mid thigh along with his boxers as his cock slaps against his tummy. He hisses at the feeling as he watches you align yourself on top of it.
"You want it, Ed?" you question, an aura of cool, calm control exuding from you.
He whines. "Please, I want it so bad. Please put it in" he begs, and you've never realized how pretty his voice sounded when begging. Whiny and high pitched, nasal, almost as if he were about to cry. A prayer for you to fulfill him, make him whole.
Like he is nothing without you.
Is that what it felt like for him to see you crying on his cock every night? A rush of power washes over you, as you motion to sink down on him, but quickly going back up.
He lets out a whiny cry, a bratty child without his candy.
"Uh- huh. Beg me to fuck you, Ed" you say. You swear you can feel him shiver, his cock jumping from underneath your skirt.
"F-fuck, please. Please fuck me. Please my love, my witch, my high priestess" he rambles, your hand creeps up his thick neck, wrapping around it "fuck mmm please, I'll do anything. I'll give you everything" a frenzied speech, his words speed up at the feeling of your nails scratching the skin of his neck.
He'd let you sacrifice him to the devil if you asked him.
Feeling his pulse point with your nails as you begin to squeeze the sides of it, a needy gasp escapes the pretty boy's mouth.
Flushed a pretty red, sweat clinging to the base of his neck and forehead, hair curling and sticking to his feverish skin as you begin to sink down on him.
Inch by inch, slowly feeling him fill you up, as a quiet "oh" escapes you once you've taken all of him.
His breath is quick and labored, quiet pleas rolling out of the sweetness of his tongue, where the taste of you lingers. The love potion you'd been administering him all along.
Eddie Munson is not a religious guy, but if he needs to pray to his goddess to get you to fuck him he'll do it.
But you start moving. A slow, feline movement of your back, almost as if you and Circe were the same creature, a shapeshifter from another world. A goddess, an empress of his body and mind. He was wrapped around your finger.
Your hands tighten around his neck as you grind yourself down on him, he whimpers.
"Mmmm, so big" you mutter against his ear, biting his lobe. And everything you do makes him whine and buck himself deeper inside you, hitting the spongy walls deep inside you, needing more of you. Needing you to swallow him whole.
And you comply, raising your hips and lowering them, bouncing yourself on him as if you were only using him to chase your own pleasure. The thought of it makes Eddie shiver and moan, a strangled sound coming out of his constricted throat.
He hopes your hand leaves a mark on his neck, so people know he's yours. So people know that the witch next door spelled him and he is now in love with her. He never wants to get away from her.
"You- you're so good" he whispers, hips rising and falling on his cock, head lolling as you feel yourself get close again.
"Yeah, baby? Thank me, then. Thank your goddess for making you feel so good" you command, and his hands travel through every inch of your body, feeling every ridge and crease and bump. Wanting to feel you, wanting to worship you.
"F-fuck, thank you, thank you, thank you." a prayer to his goddess, for making him feel so good. "Please more, I- I'm so-"
"You're close aren't you?" you coo, cradling the back of his head with your free hand. Making him look at you.
"'M so close, please let me let me let me please" he begins to chant, too far gone from the feeling of your nails digging on the sides of his neck, scratching his sweaty scalp, tongue tracing the outline of his lips as quick and labored breaths escape him.
"C'mon, cum for me" you whisper in his ear, letting go of his neck and latching your lips onto him, leaving a few purple bruises on his milky skin.
You feel him spill inside you with a whine, shivering, while you ride him for all he is, chasing your own release.
You follow him soon after, biting down on his shoulder. The taste of his sweaty skin lingering on your tongue.
You stay clung to him for a few minutes after, quiet and panting as he revels in the post- orgasmic feeling you've just given him.
"Never thought I would've been the submissive type" he huffs out with a laugh as you climb off of him.
"Well, you're welcome. Gonna go have a milk bath, be right back" you stand, reveling in the feeling of his spent spilling out of you.
He hears the shower turn on and as he's getting dressed, Circe comes to nuzzle on his lap.
He raises an eyebrow.
Where has she been the whole time? The rooms of your apartment were all open when you got back. She was probably just taking a nap in your bed.
He shrugs as he delivers a couple pets to her head.
Meanwhile in the bathroom, a spell book is suspended mid air as you look a spell to get rid of a hickey that Eddie had left on your neck.
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mini taglist: @strangerstilinski, @stuckonthefiction, @elegantkoalapaper, @gravedigginbbydoll, @eddiesxangel, @reidsbtch, @bangaveragewhitewine, @chaoticharrington, @hideoutside, @monstxrteeth, @the-local-pendeja, @thornsnvultures, @strangerfreaks, @unverifiedmeatsuit, @strangerfreaks, @starlitlakes, @thebejeweledwatercat, @aphrogeneias, @chrrymunson, @amira0303, @paradise-summertime, @onegirlmanytales, @piecsesrising, @feralamdtiredrat, @m0llygunn , @angel-upon, @lavendermunson, @cowboylikemunson
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As soon as she saw this house in Nashville,Tennessee, Adora knew it was the house for her, and her biggest indulgence was having it professionally painted pink. 
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She loves coming home to a pink house and stepping out on her pink porch.
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As soon as you walk thru the front door, there’s a big gold cage that indicates the decor is unique. I wonder if it’s an old elevator.
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She says her decor is selectively curated vintage, b/c her choices are unique. She describes the style as “Hollywood regency mystique meets 1970s opulence, with some kitsch and borderline gaudiness depending on which room! But always glamorous, luxurious, and comfortable!”
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Instead of a living room and dining room, she chose to have 2 living rooms, b/c she prefers lounging to anything formal. 
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She looks for credenzas, end tables, and nightstands that have storage, b/c the older home only has one closet, so she keeps clothes everywhere.
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Her biggest inspirations are mostly a mixture of a few of her favorite 1960s and ’70s Palm Springs time capsule homes,
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She painted her kitchen appliances and countertops, and also hung the shelves. 
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Painting the cabinets pulled it all together. 
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Adora doesn’t give decorating advice b/c she feels that decor is so personal. 
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She says that the only mistake people make with color is being afraid of it. But, she adds that if you like white and neutrals that can look good, too. 
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And, she says to remember that texture pulls a room together. 
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Her favorite piece is her 1970s red round bed. She bought it from a woman who bought it directly from a furniture store in the 70s and Adora’s only the 2nd owner.
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The bathroom was recently remodeled, which included a claw foot tub. That tile!
https://www.apartmenttherapy.com/vibrant-pink-nashville-house-tour-photos-37097894
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nervoussagittarius · 23 days
Text
hey, let’s not be alone tonight
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matt sturniolo x reader
summary: matt introduces his girlfriend to the world through a video on his personal channel, request
warnings: extreme fluff, maybe some swearing who knows lol
matt sat in the driver seat of his car looking down at his lap. his face displayed a slightly distraught look as he glanced up into the camera.
“hi guys welcome backs to my personal channel…god i hate filming by myself.” he said with a sigh.
his gloomy look soon brightened into a smile as he stated “luckily i’m alone tonight” and turned the camera hoping both of you were in frame. you simultaneously laughed at his little bit before realizing that the camera was in fact very much crooked.
“hey matt,” you said pointing to the lens.
“oh fuck, let me fix it. hang on guys” he said holding a hand up to the camera in a “wait” motion .
matt quickly got out of the car making his way around to the front. he conducted you on which way to move the camera so both of you were evenly in the frame.
you tried to concentrate at the task at hand, but everytime you looked at matt for direction he made a funny face back at you, making you laugh.
“is that good? i can’t tell” you said calling to matt. he sent you a thumbs up in response, and made his way back to his seat.
matt and you were in sync as you looked at each other, then to the camera, and then back to each other.
“you ready?” he questioned reaching down to hold your hand over the center console.
“absolutely” you replied.
“guys, you were all wrong…. i’m coming clean and telling you that i’m still as single as i’ve ever been” matt said with a very serious look on his face.
“what?” you exclaimed with a slight giggle, looking at matt. he tried not to break character, but didn’t last very long as you poked his cheek getting him to smile.
“i’m just kidding,” he said “this is my girlfriend y/n. all of you have been speculating so we thought it was time to announce it.”
”you can talk you know” he chuckled softly squeezing your hand.
“i know, i just didn’t want to cut you off” you whispered, looking into his blue eyes as they softened at your statement.
“hi guys, i’m y/n” you finally repeat waving at the camera.
matt couldn’t take his eyes off of you. you looked so perfect sitting under the lights of his car. he didn’t want to pressure you into having to succumb to parts of his lifestyle, but your willingness to participate in a video with him made him love you even more.
matt was very private with his personal business. he didn’t like people speculating or starting rumors. for the longest time he didn’t want to expose you to the hate that came from his job, but he wanted nothing more then to be able to show you off to the world. you were everything to him and he wanted to celebrate that.
“matt..” you said softly, grabbing his attention. “do you want to tell them what we’re doing today?”
“oh yeah, so i was gonna make an instagram story asking you guys to ask us questions, but i couldn’t figure out how to do it, and then i realized it would spoil the suprise. so nick and chris wrote us a couple questions that they figured you’d want us to answer.”
you released your hand from matt’s with a giggle at his statement, picking up your drink. this caught his attention as he quickly grabbed your drink from you, putting it in your other hand, and grasped the left one back in his.
this made you give him a “really?” look but he just responded with a shrug and a brief kiss to your cheek.
“alrighty” he said dragging out the y. “we’re gonna start out simple and take turns answering questions. y/n is going to go first with the question ‘how did we meet?’”
you laughed, “so matt and i actually have different views on how me met, but nick cleared it up for us because he has a better memory of the situation.” matt jokingly rolled his eyes and he looked at you intently.
“i know that we originally met at a vintage thrift store when i had complimented nick on his shirt. i was wearing this vintage leather jacket and he loved it, so he wanted to show matt and chris. that’s actually when we met, but matt claims he wasn’t there for that, so to him we met at a small gathering one of our mutual friends had for their birthday.”
“i promise i was not there when you first met nick and chris”
“how did they get to that vintage store then matt? you drive them everywhere.” you broke out in laughter at the dumbfounded look on his face.
“okay you may have a point, but i’m still sticking to my original story.” he said passing you the phone to ask the next question.
“okay baby, whatever you say.” you patted his cheek as he once again rolled his eyes at you lovingly.
“how long have we been together?” you asked.
he pretended to think for a second before saying “seven months. literally the best days of my fucking life.”
“really?” you said looking up at him with a small smile on your face.
“of course. i love being with you”
you guys stared at eachother for a few seconds before you cleared your throat looking away with a slight blush on your face.
“okay, next question.” you got out quickly, not being able to make eye contact with matt.
you and matt have been together for a decent amount of time, yet he still manages to suprise you and make you nervous daily. he thinks it’s cute, but you find it a little frustrating. he loves seeing how he can still make you blush just by looking at you. it boosts his ego and tells him he’s doing something right.
“how do you manage a healthy relationship? i feel like nick and chris are asking this questions for themselves because neither of them can stay in a relationship” matt laughed.
“i think it’s all about how you communicate and developing a flow that will bind both of your lives without disrupting the previous routine.” you said through giggles.
“it’s definitely important to make time for each other, but you also have to make time for yourself. especially with matt’s job being very time consuming. we’ve done a lot of trial and error to figure out what’s best for us and our relationship. matt and i also have a rule that we can’t go to sleep mad at each other so it kinda forces us to figure our shit out.”
“i agree.” matt says looking at the camera giving them a slight head tilt. he leaned his head back on his seat turning to look at you.
“okay last question for the night. would we ever start a channel together?”
“do you want to answer this together?” matt asks. you nod.
“on three” you reply.
three counts are made before you both answer. “fuck no” “absolutely not”
the serious faces you’re both making are soon broken as you fall into eachother laughing. a few seconds pass before matt lifts his head first placing a kiss to your hair.
“listen, we’re not saying that y/n will never appear in a video again, but neither of us want the hassle or the constant publication of our relationship on the internet”
“yeah, we’re definitely not one of those couples.” you say with a smile, still leaning your head on matt’s shoulder.
matt finally released your hand, grabbing the camera off the dash. you took this time to take a sip of your drink as matt placed the focus on you.
“any last words for the viewers?”
“we love you all and i hope you’re prepared for matt’s constant talk about me, because nick and chris complain about it all the time.”
you grabbed the camera pointing it at matt.
“and what are your last words mr. matthew sturniolo?”
he looked over the camera to you and then back to the lens.
“let’s kiss the camera, babe” he said.
you both leaned forward to place a short peck on the camera lens. pulling back, you both laughed at the fog and matt wiped the lens clean as he ended the video.
“do you think they’ll like it?” you asked softly.
“i think they’ll love it because you’re perfect, and funny, and beautiful, and i love you.” matt rambled.
“i love you too, matt,” you smiled.
you took his hand, once again, as he started the short drive back to his house.
comments:
i’ve never seen two people more perfect for eachother
the fact that matt wouldn’t let go of her hand the entire time did something to me
i don’t blame y/n. i too would get nervous if i was in the presence of matt sturniolo
nick and chris being the biggest supporters of their relationship and making them questions is so cute.
i can’t wait to see all of the posts matt makes about y/n now
crying at how adorable they are
an: i’m in love with this one and them. i hope y’all enjoyed it as well🤍🤍
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