#Thank you Bowie <3

[reserved-system]

hi. i saw u reblogged the hermit fanon swap thingy… butterfly joe hills >:)

JOE OF THE HILLS FROM NASHVILLE TENNESSEE EDIT: You can request more like this over at @pocketofpossums that's our art blog!!

[hearts-hunger]

maddie i finally had to time to sit down and start fate of the faithful and i am OBSESSED. like. i think this is the best thing you've ever come up with genuinely

[antifiction]

I was tagged by @yesalwayswelles to use this generator and add my comfort albums, thanks so much 🖤I love these music or film related tag chains :D

The albums are: Perpetuum mobile (Einstürzende Neubauten), Hunky Dory (David Bowie), Lust for Life (Iggy Pop) and Rain Dogs (Tom Waits)

Tagging @francis-ford-kofola (I'm tagging you in everything, but you don't have to do all of them haha), @eddiestardust, @symphony-in-silver, @evilbubblewrap and @svartmalt (and anybody else who likes this kind of thing as always <3)

[darling-flora]

main thing 4

lewis hamilton x yn model - social media au

[part 1]

[part 2]

[part 3]

[part 4]

fc : bella hadid

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yourinstagram

Liked by lewishamilton, devonleecarlson and 16,159,944 others

yourinstagram i've been some taking time off after a jaw infection caused my lyme disease flare up. But im thankful to my mama for sticking by me , protecting, supporting , but most of all, believing me through all of this.

Thank you for the patience of the incredible company’s that I work for , my supporters and the people who continued to check in. My lovely love of my life lewis for being there for me when he could, and getting me my little pup bowie to keep me company.

Thank you to my genius Dr, and her INCREDIBLE team of nurses. I love you SO much!!!

I’ll be back when I’m ready

I miss you all so much

I love you all so much

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lhamfan28 oh wow that's why she's been gone... glad you're getting better y/n !!

yoursister ❤

↳yourinstagram ❤❤

lhamfan81 hope you feel better angel !!

lewishamilton im so proud of you for being so strong! i love more than you'll ever know bby ❤

↳yourinstagram thank you for being there lew !! love you so much 🫶

ynlvrr44 sending so much love your way ❤

carmenmmundt So glad your doing better 🫶

↳yourinstagram ❤

devonleecarlson love you love you, im so blown away by your strength ❤🙌

liked by yourinstagram

ynfan81 glad you have such a strong support system to help you through this 🫶

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yndaily

Liked by lhamfan28, ynfan81 and 578,981 others

yndaily Y/n is in the paddock for qualifying in silverstone along with her dog Bowie !! Y/n is watching from Lewis’ driver room !

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ynfan1 MOTHER IS BACK !!

ynfan3 oh she's serving

ynhamfan9 the custom denim jacket with 44 patches eats !!!!

ynfan5 she looks so good !!!!

lhamfan2 y/n is here ? we are soooo getting a lewis podium

f1fan8 with y/n back for the first time this season i expect a lewis win....

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yndaily

Liked by lhamfan28, ynfan81 and 578,981 others

yndaily Y/n arriving for the race in silverstone !! Y/n is watching from the Mercedes garage !

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yourinstagram

Liked by lewishamilton, devonleecarlson and 16,159,944 others

yourinstagram LEWIS WON !!! truly speechless after a day filled with happy tears !! lewis im so proud of you, after almost two years you still find ways to amaze me with your ability to overcome the pressures you face everyday but your dedication and love for this sport pushes you to be better everyday !! i love you so so so much 🤍

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lhamfan1 HUH 2 YEARS ???? i thought it was just a year ??!?

lewishamilton Thank you y/n for being with me and being there for be, i love you more than words can explain 🤍

↳yourinstagram i love you bby !! 🤍

ynfan2 tears in my eye's these two are so cute

devonleecarlson happy girl !!!!!

yoursister what a day 😪❤

↳yourinstagram ❤❤

ynhamfan44 the first picture 😭

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lewishamilton

Liked by yourinstagram, georgerussell63 and 20,559,944 others

lewishamilton YES 🍾🍾🍾 945 days since the last win and it’s finally come home. SILVERSTONE I LOVE YOU. There’s no crowd that deserves this more. This is love, this is family. Thank you all for the love and support. Massive shout to the team as well. Everyone in the garage and back at the factory have given long hard hours for this result. It’s not been easy but it’s brought us back to back wins for the team. Most importantly we didn’t lose hope. We didn’t give up. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU KEEP GOING. STILL WE RISE 🇬🇧🏆❤️ !!!

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lhamfan2 cried every lap he lead the race

yourinstagram im so proud of you mi amor i love you so much 🤍

↳lewishamilton love you my pretty girl 🤍

ynfan1 a ring on y/n's finger is missing from the second picture

fencer 104 wins !!! lets goooo

mercfan7 what a race !!!

georgerussell63 Well deserved !!! 👊🏻

ynfan62 you can always tell how much it means to lewis when he wins !!! MY GOAT 🐐

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pagesix

Liked by lhamfan18, ynfan71 and 978,981 others

pagesix Engaged? Only day's after Lewis Hamilton inherited the win in Belgium, which was the 105th of his career, the racer and supermodel Y/n L/n she's seen around England (after a week in Italy) sporting a ring on her ring finger.

While there hasn't been any official confirmation from their representatives, we can't help but speculate about the importance of the ring.

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ynfan2 omg omg i've been waiting for this

lhamfan4 please been an engagement ring 🙏

ynhamfan1 they're sooooooooo in love, so i wouldn't be surprised but i'd love it !!

f1fan3 a week in italy then seen with a ring ....? they're def engaged

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yourinstagram

Liked by lewishamilton, devonleecarlson and 19,159,944 others

yourinstagram The easiest yes, endlessly in love with you 🤍

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lewishamilton My fiancée 🤍

lewishamilton Love you beautiful 🤍

↳yourinstagram i love you fiancé !! 🤍

devonleecarlson tears in my eyes

liked by yourinstagram

yoursister baby khai misses you two !! she love's her uncle (officially) lewis 😇

↳yourinstagram awwe we'll visit soon, love you !! 💞

carmenmmundt Oh im so happy for you two !!! ❤

↳yourinstagram ty ty !!!! ❤

ynhamlvrr44 my heart can't handle this !! 😭

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lewishamilton

Liked by yourinstagram, georgerussell63 and 24,559,944 others

lewishamilton Looking forward to forever with you, I look at you everyday and I know I'm home 🤍

view all comments

yourinstagram love you handsome !! 😘💞

↳lewishamilton Love you love you love you forever my pretty girl !!! ❤

mercedesamgf1 Congrats !! ❤💍

georgerussell63 Congratulations to the future bride and groom! 🎉

sebastianvettel Congratulations on your engagement! You and y/n are made for each other. ❤

ynfan6 so happy for these two they truly make each other so happy !!

valtteribottas Wishing you a very long and happy life together.

mickschumacher Cheers to many happy years ahead, congratulations to you both!

f1fan1 never thought i'd seen the day lewis got engaged but they seem perfect for each other

scuderiaferrari Congratulations on your engagement! We're so excited for you both.

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[eddiesghxst]

PRICE OF FAME (PART 12/12)

AHHH !! friends, we've come to the end of my first fully done series, and she's not perfect in a lot of ways but she's mine and I'm so happy and thankful to have shared it with you lovely folks

i hope I've done them justice, enjoy <3

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: you decide to visit eddie for a chat

contains: enemies to lovers trope, drug and alcohol use, smut, oral (m receiving), mentions of anal, mentions of death (readers relative), sexual themes, angst, heavy mutual pining, fluff, and eddie being so head over heels that it's hot <3

word count: 10.6k

| previous part |

| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

“So, from the new album— Wasting Love.”

Over time, Eddie’s learned that he can’t stand interviews— especially interviews with questions aimed towards nothing but tabloid gossip and headlines. The first big interview that Corroded Coffin booked was exciting because— well, it was their first one! Maybe the questions weren’t as intricate and thought-out as the ones they gave David Bowie on TV, but it was something.

That excitement wore off quickly, though, and unfortunately, interviews are one of the top ways to spread publicity so— “Wasting love,” Eddie huffs, tipping his hips forward as he shifts on the couch. He’s bored out of his mind, aching to leave and be done with the shitty questions about his love life or the people he hangs around or whatever. He taps the heel of his foot into the ground, lips twisting as he chews at the inside of his cheek, “What about it, man?” Eddie asks.

The rest of the band is in the fucking clouds— why would they answer a question about a song entirely unrelated to them? Plus, Eddie’s 99.9% sure they did a few lines without him, which, fucking assholes.

The interviewer shrugs, “Well, why didn’t it make it to the final cut? And what’s it about? Tell us more about that track.”

What a bullshit fucking question. 

Wasting Love is one of the most, if not the most, straightforward songs Eddie’s ever fucking written. The only reason why he’s asking about this is because, well, there’s been rumors of Eddie and his most recent love affair— none of which are true, but Eddie doesn’t bother to come out and tell the truth because what’s the point? What’s the point in telling the truth if it will get twisted anyway?

Either way, Eddie shrugs, blinking behind his dark sunglasses, “I mean…” He purses his lips and tips his head side to side as if thinking, “Kinda self-explanatory with the lyrics, man.” He finally responds.

And in the background, Eddie can see Richie practically constructing his next ‘I know you hate it, but it’s good publicity’ lecture. So, Eddie relents— “It’s about… meaningless sex basically. And it didn’t make the cut because it was a shitty song.”

It wasn’t, actually, Eddie thinks it was a great fucking song, but the intentions behind it— not quite so.

“I think the fans would disagree on that.” The interviewer jokes.

Jeff takes a deep breath and shifts in his seat, “I mean, part of it was because it just didn’t flow with the essence of the album.” He adds, and Eddie mentally thanks him for taking over and so easily diverting the topic to something else. For the rest of the interview, Eddie’s mind is elsewhere, thinking about everything outside of this room, thinking about what he’ll eat later, thinking about the show tonight, thinking about you.

Yeah, you haven’t left his fucking mind in the past six months you’ve been apart from one another. It’s been six months, and Corroded Coffin has released two albums and started their second leg of tour since he last saw you— and you’re still all he thinks about.

You’re still in his dreams, still dancing behind his eyelids when he shuts his eyes, still vomiting all over his fucking journal when he writes. It’s madness, really. Eddie can’t remember the last time he was this hung up on someone— he wasn’t even this distraught when Chrissy left him.

Sure when he and Chrissy ended, he wallowed in it for a month or two, but it wasn’t long before he got fixed on uppers and groupies. Chrissy was heartbreaking in the sense that she was his first love, his first real relationship— but this… this is different. Eddie doesn’t know why it’s different, can’t really pinpoint where the colors change, and the memories start to jab at his chest differently, but he feels it.

He feels it when he’s sitting backstage before a show, feels it when he steps into a new hotel room every night, feels it when he’s ruffling through his suitcase and comes across that journal that’s been haunting him for ages now, and he definitely feels it when he reads the fifth page in the Rolling Stone magazine where the description of Eddie resides, the one where you’d crafted and molded Eddie into a shape he’d never been able to see before, the one where Eddie first came to terms with the true sight of you and your intentions.

Yeah, it’s fucking bullshit, Eddie thinks.

He doesn’t know how he ended up in this predicament, but by god, he would never fucking recommend it because— fuck, you won’t even talk to him!

And sure, you don’t owe Eddie anything, you don’t owe him a call or a chance to visit or anything of the sort, but Eddie was holding onto that sliver of hope you gave him before you left. 

He asks about you when he can, because, unbeknownst to you, Eddie’s quite familiar with your boss, Anna, and she’s like an annoying older sister to him. Anna tells Eddie how much of an idiot he is occasionally, but she always cracks and tells Eddie that you’ve been good and how you sometimes mention him, but it’s always quick, and nobody ever has room to pry about it. And when Anna tells Eddie about how you crossed paths backstage with a certain red-headed girl and read her to filth, Eddie chuckles and mumbles something along the lines of, “That’s my girl.”

Anna nearly gagged then. 

Still, Eddie only catches glimpses and whispers of you, never really getting the full fix to last him a day, but it’s enough to keep him alive and wanting. 

“Maybe she doesn’t get your calls, man.” Gareth shrugs, leaning into the mirror as he ruffles his hair. It’s been hours since the interview now, and showtime is in… Eddie doesn’t know when because he didn’t listen when Richie was rambling on about tonight’s schedule.

“She gets my calls, dude; Anna said she does,” Eddie grumbles.

“Okay, well, then maybe she’s just, like, over it. I don’t blame her; you're a pain in the ass.”

Eddie kicks his boot into Gareth’s shin, and the boy hisses, tossing a red Rillos wrapper at him. “Ow, asshole. It’s not my fault she hates your music.” He snips. Eddie makes a face, “It’s your music too, dumbass.” 

Gareth scoffs, “Yeah, but you wrote an entire fucking album about her. Our album is literally about her, you know that, right?” And Eddie thinks he should just kick Gareth’s teeth in at this point, maybe that’ll get him to shut up. “How would you know it’s about her if I never told you it was?” Eddie prods.

Gareth rolls his eyes, dark eyeliner casting a shadow on his face as he turns to glare at his friend. “Is there another chick you’ve been fucking that’s got you by the balls that we seem to have forgotten about?” Gareth sarcastically asks. Eddie glares at him, reaching for the cigarettes on the vanity table and sparking up.

He speaks around a cloud of smoke when he answers, “No.”

Gareth makes a face, eyebrows raising in an ‘I rest my case' manner. “And she’s not a chick,” Eddie adds.

Gareth hums with a tight grin, reaching out to poke at his friend's face, causing Eddie to grimace and bat him away, “You’re in love, Munson. Fix it or get over it,” He says shortly before making his way toward the door. Eddie can hear the dull scream of fans when Gareth opens the door, and Eddie thinks about the tickets he’s sent you every show— prays to whatever false god there is that you decided tonight is the night before he decides hope is useless and you’ve gotten over him. Gareth cuts through Eddie’s thoughts, “Come on, I can hear Richie’s bitching from here.”

Eddie’s mind is never in the game until he steps onto the stage, with bright lights blinding him, screaming fans, and his adrenaline at an all-time high. He comes back to earth then, comes back, and does the fuck out of his job— because this is the best part. The best fucking part, and it’s always been that way.

And it gets better when Eddie scans the crowd, coming down from the first song of the night and finally taking a look at his audience, and there he sees it— he sees you. There you are under flashing lights, drowning in a sea of people with that glint in your eyes. 

Eddie thinks he’s imagining it because, fuck, he’s been dreaming of this for weeks on end; surely his delusion can reach the heights of hallucinations, right? But no, you’re real.

You’re so fucking real. So fucking insanely real beneath Eddie’s fingertips when he reaches out, ignoring the screams and clawing of fans as his fingers loop around your wrists and he says your name.

God, you’re really fucking here.

Eddie looks prettier than you remember when you first see him— curly mane draped over his shoulders and dark tattoos glistening on a bare torso, white lights framing him like he’s some kind of fucking archangel.

He’s gotten thicker in the few months, beefier around his arms and chest, and the long chains and pendants he wears from his neck rest down the valley of his torso, smeared in sweat and sin. You want to drag your tongue across his chest, taste the salt and his cologne, tug the silver cross between your lips, and suck and make him whimper.

His eyeliner is smudged and dark, and his smile when he gets a moment to take in the crowd makes your chest ache. He’s so pretty it hurts. He’s a dream and a nightmare all at once.

You missed him. God, you missed him so much.

His smile falters when he sees you, and you don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but his eyebrows pinch like he’s in pain, and you only want to wrap yourself around him and breathe in that scent that’s been haunting for nights on end.

He’s insane for jumping down to the barricade, like, completely-lost-his-fucking-mind, down-in-the-gutter, insane. But you can’t find it in you to protest when he steps up to the fence, reaching out and looping his warm finger around your wrist. “What the fuck?”

Your lips twitch into a smile at his words, but the crowd is getting rowdy with their beloved rockstar so up close and an elbow is being shoved into your side and Eddie moves quicker than you can comprehend, tugging you forward to the very front and motioning you to jump over.

“You’re insane!” You yell over the noise of the crowd. Eddie grins, damp curls dangling over his eyes as he peers down at you, “Unless if you wanna get crushed, be my guest.”

It’s slightly difficult, and there are a lot of gangly limbs and yearning hands reaching out everywhere, but Eddie eventually gets you over the barricade, and you’re gazing up at him with a warm grin when you sway on your feet. You wish you and Eddie could just walk away and have each other like you’ve been imagining for months, but Eddie has a job, and he’s working.

His eyes are blown wide, and his lips are so kissable, and his warm hand is squeezing your hip as he nods toward a security guard. “Keep an eye on this one, Rob,” He shouts over the screaming fans. You’re eyeing Eddie as he steps back toward the stage, sinking his in-ear back into place with a sly grin as he winks, “She’s real sneaky.”

The show is great, as it always is, and Eddie tries to be deft about it, but it’s evident to just about everyone how he practically clings to the side of the stage where you’re standing in front of. It’s cute, you’ll admit, but you feel bad for the fans, so you try to move around a bit.

The last song comes, and the show ends with Eddie and Jeff practically climbing over one another as they shred their guitars and the crowd goes insane when Eddie leans forward to drag his tongue up the side of Jeff’s face, grinning when the other boy rolls his eyes and walks off.

You’re being pulled backstage quicker than you know it, just in time to meet the group as they jog off the smokey stage with big grins on their faces.

Jeff is smothering Naomi in a sweaty hug and smattering kisses all over her face, and you’re glad to see they’re still together. Gareth is twirling his drumstick between his fingers and scanning the room for someone, but you don’t have time to try and figure out who because the one person you’ve been waiting for steps out next, and he’s got the biggest grin on his face as he practically jogs up to you.

You’re smiling and giggling out a greeting as he steps up to you and grasps your face between his hands, “No kisses!” You warn before he can lean in, and Eddie’s too excited to even pout about it. “You’re gonna fucking kill me, you know that?”

You reach up to slink your fingers around his wrists as his thumbs caress the soft skin beneath your eyes, “Got enough life left in you to talk?” You ask. Eddie’s eyes dance across your face, taking you in like it’s the last time he’ll ever get the chance to before he nods. “Always.”

The dressing room seems to be the altar of truth for you and Eddie.

It’s dawning on you that most of the pivotal moments between you and Eddie have been in a dressing room, so it’s not irrational for you to feel a bit uneasy when you step in, and Eddie closes the door.

He’s like a kid in a candy store, trying not to touch what he sees. His eyes are so bright, but you can tell he’s holding himself back from doing and saying the things he wants, and you appreciate that he’s giving you the space, waiting for you to give him your yes or no.

Eddie plops onto the couch in the middle of the room and looks at you with a glint in his eyes. You deeply breathe, shifting in your spot before leaning back against the door, tipping your head as you study him; thighs comfortably spread, inked stories fluttering to life with each rise and fall of his bare torso. He’s a dream.

“I thought you’d be way more upset.”

Eddie’s lips tug like he wants to smile at the sound of your voice, or maybe it’s the sight of you, and he shifts in his seat with a shrug, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a cigarette and sticks it between his lips, and when you see him pat himself down, you’re already moving like it’s muscle memory.

You pick up the lighter on the coffee table and walk over to Eddie, sparking the flame as you speak, “You’re allowed to be upset, you know?” You remind him. Eddie’s gaze flickers in color as he looks up at you, and you try to ignore the goosebumps that rise up on your skin when his hand reaches up to rest on your hip, thumb caressing you over the material of your skintight dress. Streams of fire are licking up your spine as he leans forward to burn the end of the paper stick, and your center aches when he gently squeezes the fat of your hip. All throughout this, Eddie never lets his eyes fall from you.

He mumbles a short thank you once the cigarette lights, leaning back to rest against the seat as he looks up at you. You fight the urge to comb your fingers through his hair or do something dumb like climb into his lap. No doubt talking would fly out the window then.

You gently toss the lighter onto the coffee table and sit on the loveseat across from the pinnacle of your thoughts from the last six months. Eddie speaks around a cloud of smoke, “Do you want me to be upset?” He asks.

You shrug, trying your hardest not to break beneath his unwavering eye. “I don’t know.” 

Eddie smiles then, and the strings of your heart play a symphony to the notes of his voice when he speaks, “I was for a little bit,” He admits, tapping ash onto the carpet, “But then Wayne told me to get my head out of my ass.”

You huff out a laugh at that, and Eddie grins. “How is he?” You ask. Eddie tips his head back and forth like he’s thinking, “Same old man as before. Think he’s got a girlfriend now. He’s being an asshole about the details, though.” He rolls his eyes, and you snort. You’re happy to hear Wayne has a person for himself now; if anyone deserves it, it’s him.

You shift, like you can’t seem to get comfortable enough, and you know you’re stalling, and you can see Eddie fighting to not call you out, so you try to ease into it; “Is that when you stopped calling?” You ask.

Eddie stiffens under the question, and you know the answer. He grimaces and runs a hand over his face with a soft groan, “Fuck,” he curses, “Fuck, yeah, it was.” He answers. “I’m sorry, I’m a fuckin’ hothead. I had made it a goal to call every night and then—” “I upset you.”

Eddie’s eyes are soft, and you have to force yourself to keep your eyes on his, “It wasn’t fair what I did, Eddie; I’m sorry—”

Eddie shakes his head, briefly shutting his eyes as he waves you off, “Nah, fuck that. You don’t need to apologize—” “But I do. I told you I wanted space, and then a week later, I’m plastered on a fucking cover with Baine fucking Carter.” 

Baine Carter is a well-known songwriter within the industry. He’s got tracks spread all over the top charts, and he has a way of talking that can make just about anyone fall into a trance until you realize most of what he’s saying is just made-up bullshit. In hindsight, Baine wasn’t much different than most people in the music industry— it was a moment of weakness and pure vodka-weighted thinking. And, of course, it’s the moment when cameras find you.

“Kinda my fault too,” Eddie shrugs, “Camera’s wouldn’t have found you if I didn’t have press riding me.” And he’s right, but shitty press isn’t his fault, so how much of that can you really blame him for?

Eddie snickers at the memory of you painted on the cover of several magazines, “Think you’ve got a type, sweetheart.” He teases. Your face screws up in defense, and you scoff, “What does that mean?”

Eddie raises an eyebrow, “Come on, you’re gonna tell me you didn’t say my name when he—” “We didn’t do anything— firstly— and even if I did say your name, I would never in a million years admit it.” You point out with a raised eyebrow. 

Eddie smirks with a playful glint in his eye and he deeply breathes as he ashes his cigarette and rises to his feet. “I don’t care that you hooked up with Bain fucking Carter,” Eddie softly admits with a hint of a mocking grin, “Did it deeply wound me to the point where I almost thought I was gonna die? Yes.” He jokingly says, to which you want to roll your eyes at, but he’s stalking over to you like he’s some lion on the prowl, and all you can muster is a small huff with a mumbled, “You’re dramatic.”

Eddie stands in front of you and leans over to press his palms onto each side of your seat, leaning down until his face hovers above yours, “I’m kinda known for it, darling.” He winks.

Your core stirs at the proximity, and you can feel his breath against your top lip. “I will admit, though,” Eddie lets his hand drop to round over your bare knee, callused fingertips caressing your soft skin, “It gave me a huge ego boost seeing you with a literal replica of me.” He snickers, fingers dancing into the inside of your thigh. You huff, a playful glint in your eyes as you run your tongue across your teeth, “Yeah, I imagine your head couldn’t fit through the door for at least a month, huh?”

Eddie shrugs, “Depends. Which head we talking about, honey?”

You huff out a laugh, rolling your eyes when he gently squeezes at the warm skin of your thigh. You tip your head lower, holding your gaze on Eddie as you lowly speak, “I’m not having sex with you tonight, Eddie.”

Brown eyes flash with a familiar look you’d missed before they drop to your lips. “What about a kiss? Just one.” He presses. Your eyes narrow, “I doubt you could ever do just one.” 

“You’ll never know if you never try.” His lips twitch up into a sly grin, taunting you and pushing you until your brain is just a muddled mess of yes, no, yes, no, yes, n— fuck it.

It’s like a sigh of relief to have Eddie’s lips on yours after such a long time. Weeks of nights and days spent trying to remember how it felt having his plump lips pressed onto yours, how he tasted, how warm his tongue was when it slunk into your mouth. None of those times you’d try to remember, none of those phantom feelings that would breeze through your body could ever amount to how it actually feels— it’s as if you’re seeing color for the first time.

It’s a fucking kiss, that’s for sure.

It’s long, and it takes you both a second to relearn the kinks and maneuvers you both favor, but then it’s as if time never passed between your bodies— you’re moving like one unit, like every second of your lives has built up to this moment.

Unfortunately, air is a necessity to living, so you’re pulling away sooner than you’d wanted to. Eddie’s other hand is digging into the cushion beneath you, and you can practically hear his thoughts spinning as he wills himself to pull back. You shiver as his fingers squeeze your thigh one last time before slipping away. 

“How's that for a kiss?”

Brown eyes with pools of liquid gold, you missed the searing pain it gave you each time you reached out and touched. You purse your lips, tasting him on your tongue as you tip your head in thought— menthol and whiskey. “Care to answer a few questions? Pick up on our game?”

Eddie huffs out a laugh, breath tickling your nose as he snickers with a glint in his eyes. He studies you for a moment, like you might pull out and say never mind, but you only raise an eyebrow as you await an answer. “Your place or mine, honey?” He drawls.

You preen at the open door he’s lent you, “It’s your city, isn’t it?”

You don’t take the same car with Eddie to his place.

It’s not that you didn’t want to take the same car, but something about that look in Eddie’s eyes said that he absolutely wouldn’t be behaving on that car ride, and you immediately suggested separate vehicles. You’re unsure if you trust yourself to hold your promise in a confined space with Eddie… or maybe you don’t trust him… or— yeah, it’s both of you. Eddie wasn’t ecstatic about it, but you don’t care because you swear to god you aren’t going to fuck Eddie before you talk— like, really talk.

There are things that you both need to say, uncover, and express feelings about, and god forbid you get dicknotized before the words can come out correctly.

Eddie’s home is everything you thought it would be: chaotic in taste, lively, musical, whimsical, and all things that scream Eddie. The entryway is open and vast, with a clear view into the living room, where you can see a sunken living room build with guitars and papers strewn about. 

Eddie’s ushering you further into his home before you can look deeper into the entrance, but you don’t mind because his living area is like an artist's wet dream. There are comfy couches, red, cream, and colors alike, and there’s a rug in the middle that looks like a psychedelic trip of dark colors, and along one of the walls is a long shelf of endless records.

“I moved in like a year ago, so it’s not perfect, but… this is me,” Eddie says. You hadn’t been paying attention, but now that he walks into your line of vision, you can see his shoes are off, and his loose blouse is fully open. He looks like a fantasy; lean body dripped in expensive clothes and clinking jewelry, shoulders broad and sculpted beneath his wavy hair. Fuck.

You slip your shoes off and let your feet sink into his home's fluffy, deep red carpet, never once dropping your gaze from him as you walk over to the couch. “It’s beautiful, Eddie. It’s very you.”

You sink into his couch, turning so you can face him with your arms crossed over the back of the sofa as you watch him pick a record and set it up. Through the surround system of his home, the familiar riff to Tommy Bolin’s Shake The Devil rings. You watch Eddie sink a hand into his hair, shaking out his messy curls before pausing. The guitar is loud and you’re leaning forward when he snaps his head to dramatically look over his shoulder. You stifle a laugh, intrigued to see where he’s going with this— and you hate to admit that you begin enjoying the show when he turns around, fingers crafted and messily playing an air guitar to the track.

His stomach and chest flex with each of his moves, the buckle and button to his jeans open to flash you a dangerously low view of his happy trail leading to sinful places. He’s walking sex; head tilted back as he shreds the imaginary guitar, hips moving with the song as he walks toward you. He sinks to his knees in front of you, and with his living room being sunken and him still being on the higher level, you’re just in line with the view of his spread legs, crotch on full display. His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he gazes at you, switching to air drums before the words kick in. You can’t hide the smile that graces your lips as he dramatically sings along, leaning forward until his face is just inches in front of yours, ringed fingers reaching to cup your face. Standing face to face with the devil, huh?

Your hands have a mind of their own apparently because they reach out and coast up Eddie’s jean-clad thighs, nails scratching up against the material until your fingers hook into the belt loops of his jeans. You lean forward on your knees, sharing a breath with the pretty boy, and you smile. Eddie groans low in his throat, the breakdown of the song blasting in both your ears and your heart racing. His teeth dig into his lips like he’s trying to physically hold himself back, and you softly laugh. “Laughin’ at my misery?” He asks.

You shrug, “Maybe. You look fuckin’ hot.”

Eddie groans again, eyes rolling back into his head before he dives forward, nuzzling his face into your neck and faking a bite as you squeal. “Can’t say shit like that to me, princess. Wanna fuck the shit out of you.” His teeth drag against your pulse, and you squirm with a louder squeal, causing him to tumble forward, collapsing onto the couch with you, and your limbs mix like one big painting as he dramatically grunts on impact. He shifts until he’s laid on his back, head resting in your lap as he peers up at you.

“You staying the night?” He asks.

You snort, brushing a strand of hair from his face, “Didn’t I tell you we’re not having sex?” You remind him. Eddie huffs and digs his head into your lap as he shuffles in his spot, “Did I ask for sex just now?” He challenges. You raise an unconvinced eyebrow, “So, you want me to spend the night just to spend the night?”

Eddie’s eyes gleam as he looks up at you, “It’s been my dream.”

You roll your eyes, playfully shoving him off you with a huff, “Get me a drink, and I’ll think about it?”

Eddie hops up as if second nature, padding over to the stereo and turning it down just enough to hear you as he talks over his shoulder, “Sure thing, honey; what would you like?”

Honey, honey, honey.

You want to drown in it.

You’re not listening as Eddie lists off the drinks he has, busy swirling in sticky, sweet, golden lakes and admiring the shift of Eddie’s hips and ass beneath his jeans. “Surprise me.” You respond.

“Copy that, madam.”

He doesn’t go far because there’s a built-in bar on the other side of the room, so you have the perfect view of him working his magic, mixing liquor and dropping ice cubes into a crystal glass. When he finishes making your drink, he turns and walks over to you with this glint in his eyes, and you feel your body heat under his gaze. “This one's on the house,” He says with a wink, handing you the drink. You thank him, taking the glass as he sits back onto the couch, sinking into the plush cushions and watching you gently sip before pulling a sour face.

He laughs, “Too strong?” He asks. You grimace with a shake of your head, smacking your lips, “No, no, it’s good. Thank you.”

Your legs are kicked up on the couch, and Eddie finds his fingers slinking around your bare ankle, gently squeezing, “Want something comfy?” He asks.

God, he’s relentless.

You laugh, “You really want me to stay,” You tease. Eddie sinks like he’s letting all inhibitions go as he answers, “Desperately.”

He can tell you’re cracking, and you have to hide your grin behind the glass as you shake your head in disbelief at yourself, “Fine. Go, before I change my mind.”

And Eddie’s sprinting up, holding his jeans up from falling as he jogs up the stairs with a happy cheer.

A half-hour passes, and you find yourself sitting on Eddie’s comfy living room floor, dressed in nothing but an oversized shirt of his because, in Eddie’s words, ‘there’s no need for pants in a home setting, sweetheart.’ You think he just wants easy access and an eyeful of your bare legs.

Eddie’s licking up the crease of a blunt and your body is warm with whiskey and the shrill of a jazzy melody from the radio. He’s so pretty, leaned over the glass coffee table, bare shoulders flexing, curly hair draping as a curtain as he works. He clicks his tongue when he’s done, and you raise an eyebrow, pressing your bare toes into his thigh when he scoots closer. “Up for a smoke?” He asks.

You don’t smoke much, not that you don’t enjoy a nice high, but you find yourself more appreciative of your highs when they’re spaced out and random. You nod, and Eddie grins, “Atta girl. Here, honorary first hit,” He passes the blunt to you, and you snicker, grasping it between two fingers and holding it up to your lips. Eddie helps you with a lighter, leaning forward to burn the end of the paper, and you take one good drag before pulling the bunt away, rolling the smoke into your lungs to settle as best as you can handle before you sputter out in a small coughing fit.

Your eyes water, and Eddie grins as you pass it to him, leaning forward to kiss your temple, “That was good, baby.”

You watch as he takes a hit of his own, huffing out a few coughs of his own, and jesus christ, why do rockstars always smoke devious shit? It’s strong, whatever Eddie has you smoking, and it only takes you three hits before you already feel a buzz coming, and Eddie looks so pretty with low eyes and rosy cheeks.

“Ready to play our game?” He rasps out.

“Mm.” You agree, reaching out to take another hit.

“Did you listen to the albums?”

I can't destroy what isn't there

Deliver me into my fate

If I'm alone I cannot hate

I don't deserve to have you

Oh my smile was taken long ago

If I can change I hope I never know

God, did you listen to the albums? Sure, you have it ingrained into your fucking mind, and it burns.

You smile, slowly blinking because, of course, that’s Eddie’s first question. You breathe out clouds of fairy dust as you speak, “Yes, I did. Did you read the magazine?” You ask.

Eddie nods, leaning back against the couch, extending his legs out as he eyes you, “I did. Which song did you like best?”

“Mm, the one with the drums.” You smile.

Eddie laughs, and you pass the blunt back to him before leaning back on the opposite couch, toes almost touching when you extend your legs across the carpet. “You’re a kiss-up, you know that?” He gestures to you, to which you only shrug.

Eddie crawls across the living room, and you fight the urge to reach out and thread your fingers through his hair as he plops himself right next to you, leaning against the couch as well. Your thighs are touching, and you can feel the warmth of him, and the smell of weed is wafting through the air, and you just want to nuzzle into Eddie’s chest and never leave.

“Miss me?” You teasingly ask. You can hear the slight smile in Eddie’s voice as he responds, “Negative. You?”

You snort, “Negative.”

You shuffle to lean against Eddie, and he can’t seem to help it when he reaches out to push your hair back gently. “What do you wanna be when you grow up?” You ask.

Eddie’s eyebrows pinch in confusion, no doubt lost by what you mean, considering he already has his lifetime job figured out, “What do you mean?”

You sigh, wriggling as you fight the urge to wrap your body around him, “I mean,” You shrug, “Well, you’re not gonna do this forever, right? Like, at some point, you’re going to have to throw in the towel, age, and whatnot,” You dismissively wave, “What will you do then?”

Eddie pauses and thinks for a moment, and if you couldn’t feel the warmth of his skin on yours, you would think he vanished into thin air. “I, uh…. Well, you’ll think it’s stupid.” He mumbles.

You frown, turning your head to look at him, “I won’t. Tell me. Please?”

He looks at you with these soft, fond eyes before nodding, “I wanna start a music school in Hawkins— maybe, like, a creative arts school, you know, something for the weirdos. Not just music geeks.” He admits. His tone is so soft, maybe the softest you’ve ever heard, and he’s fiddling with his rings like he’s nervous, and it’s the cutest sight you’ve ever seen.

“It’s not really celebrated there. Creativity, I mean.” He adds.

You stay quiet, allowing him to speak, “Everybody just lives to work dead-end jobs. Being creative is like… a sin or something, I don’t know. I just want to give the kids somewhere where they’ll feel… safe. Seen. Something I never got for myself.”

It’s… it’s fucking brilliant. It’s so brilliant it makes your chest ache, and you decide that you would do just about anything to make sure Eddie’s dreams of a music school come true.

“I told you it’s stupid. No one ever thinks it’s good.” He mumbles after a moment with your silence. You frown and shake your head, sitting up straight to look at him. “No. No, Eddie, it’s amazing…It’s fucking amazing, and you should do it. You have to do it.”

“You’re just playing nice.”

“No, seriously. Fuck whoever said it wasn’t a good idea, it’s brilliant.” You press on, and you want to lean in and pepper kisses all over his face because— seriously, who the fuck told him it was a shitty idea?

“I grew up in a small town too, and— shit, it was not fun wanting to be something other than a nurse or a teacher. Got a lot of shit trying to ‘reach for the stars’,” You huff out a laugh. Eddie’s eyes are so gentle as they gaze at you that you almost melt. “I would’ve appreciated something like that. Munson’s School of Arts.”

Eddie snorts at that, pink lacing with yours as a smile spreads across your lips, “Not bad actually, I might name it that.”

It’s a back and forth of that for a while, silly questions amongst genuine ones until you find yourselves sat next to each other, arms pressed together, bodies yearning to wrap around each other as you fiddle with the strings of Eddie’s carpet. And there’s something, you know. Eddie feels something that he’s not telling you, and it’s killing you because it’s what you need to hear before you take the plunge. “Are you angry with me?” You softly ask.

Eddie’s quiet for a moment, and the blunt was snuffed out a while ago, so he’s not taking a drag but instead just stalling. “I mean,” he pauses, “I already told you, Birdie. What’s the point in going back on it?”

You frown, glancing at him, “Because I want you to tell me how you feel, Eddie.” You respond.

Eddie’s silent again for a longer moment, and you want to whine when he shifts away to sit in front of you. He folds his legs up, resting his elbows over his knees as he sits face to face with you, “Do you want me to be angry with you?” He steadily asks.

Your blink, “I— no?” 

Eddie raises an eyebrow, and you huff, “Honestly, a little bit, yes. It’s okay to be angry with me, Eddie; that’s what I’m trying to say.”

Eddie’s demeanor is unwavering as he blinks at you, but his tone is accusing, “Do you want me to be angry with you so you can feel justified?”

And, ouch.

That’s not the truth at all. Or maybe it’s some truth, but in your true feelings, that’s not what you mean. It’s only a fleeting thought because you’re human, after all, right?

“That’s not fair,” You frown with a small shake of your head. Eddie raises another eyebrow, and you tilt your head, “I’m only trying to be as transparent as possible, Eddie. That was the main issue.” You remind him.

Eddie turns to the coffee table, grabs your forgotten glass of Jack Daniels, and takes a swig for himself. “You wouldn’t tell me how you felt, and I was always left in the dark.” You say.

“And I’m telling you right now that I’m not angry.” He’s teetering on the edge of irritated now, and you tilt your head. “I listened to the album, Eddie. I listened to the song; you’re seriously gonna tell me you’re not angry?” 

Eddie can only glance at you then, and your frown deepens. “That’s… different.”

“How, Eddie? It’s about me—” “Yeah, because you fucking walked out on me on closing night,” Eddie exclaims. “How was I supposed to feel?”

Your chest tightens as you look into the eyes of your dreams, lyrics swirling in your mind because you’ve fucking memorized every word. You listened to it until you felt sick, dizzy with a whirlwind of regrets and what-ifs.

You sold me out to save yourself

And I won't listen to your shame

You ran away, you're all the same

Angels lie to keep control

Your chest aches when the lyrics echo in your mind.

“I just want you to be honest with me. If I made you feel that way—” “No, that’s not—” Eddie shakes his head, pinches the bridge of his nose, and cringes like it's painful. “That’s not it at all— fuck.” He puts the glass down and scoots back over to you; knees pressed into the fluffy carpet beside your thighs as he leans in and cups your face, eyes darting over your pretty features. “I was angry, and I was a shithead, and I had people talking in my ear and— shit. Please don’t think you ever blame yourself for that, please.”

Your fingers are cold, but Eddie’s wrists are warm beneath your fingertips as you frown up at him, “Just tell me how far out you are, Eds.”

Eddie looks at you with soft eyes, a callused thumb running under the delicate skin beneath your eye. He leans forward, pressing his lips against your forehead, and you preen, nuzzling forward and sinking into his warmth and scent that you’ve missed for so long.

“Not far,” He responds, lips brushing over your skin. “You?”

You hum, body reeling as Eddie slinks his arms around you, “Not far.”

Forty minutes and another blunt later, and Eddie’s floating in the fucking sky.

Eddie can’t believe it really, having you in front of him, next to him, limbs pressed to limbs with your laugh ringing in his ears— Eddie thinks this is some sick, realistic dream.

It’s tender, the space you’ve both created. You’re both fragile and reactive in the best way, like a healing exposed nerve, and Eddie will be forever in your debt for how patient you are with him. He’s not good at talking about real shit, but he’s trying to fix that, and you make it easier because you push him in the way he needs to be— you encourage him to say what he feels even if he’s afraid he might end up shooting himself in the foot and chasing you away again because— ‘It’s the only way things will get better.’

But you’ve always been patient. You were patient six months ago, and you’re patient now. You know exactly what you want, and you’re firm in what you say and feel, and it makes Eddie feel safe.

He’s never had this kind of thing— he’s never had a relationship where someone talks and leaves room for him to speak as well— two-way communication or whatever the fuck Robin says. It’s different, and it’s good, and Eddie thinks he must have shit taste if it’s taken him this long to realize it.

Chrissy never really cared for what Eddie wanted or preferred, or how something she did would make him feel. Eddie, at the time, didn’t think much of it and was more than happy to ride along with her ‘low maintenance’ nature, but it only cut him off from growth more than anything.

Whatever. It doesn’t matter anymore because Chrissy is in the past, and you— you’re so pretty standing on Eddie’s couch in just his shirt with a blunt hanging between your fingers. You’ve just returned from changing the record— Surrealistic Pillow; Eddie knew the second you dropped the needle and watched you spin around with a shit-eating grin. 

“Hippie shit,” Eddie mutters as you hop down from his couch. Your eyes narrow, “Hey,” you nudge your foot against his thigh, “Don’t be an asshole. It was on your shelf anyway.”

Eddie slinks his hand around your calf, blinking up at you as you stand over him. You reach down, the burning blunt standing between your fingers, and Eddie happily parts his lips to let you slip the tip in. Burning sativa licks up the sides of Eddie’s brain, and he melts when your other hand sinks into his hair, gently pressing his bangs back as his eyes flutter. You hum, and Eddie’s lips tip into a smile as the smoke churns in his chest. Your knuckles curl into his roots, and Eddie could fucking cum right now, no questions asked.

He’s harder than a rock, and he’s not ashamed when he sinks his hand down the open fly on his jeans to palm himself, lowly groaning as he tips his head up, playfully blowing clouds of smoke up your shirt and grinning when you squeal. He chuckles, hand slinking further up your leg to grip the fat of your thigh as he tilts his head to nip his teeth at the inside of your knee.

He turns to let his chin rest on your thigh, blinking up at you with hazy eyes, “Let me in, baby.” He pleads.

You sink to your knees until you’re face to face, and Eddie’s hands glide under your shirt, warm and itching to explore as he feels the flutter of your lungs beneath his fingertips. “No funny business, Munson.” You remind him, swatting him away when his fingers prod at the cup of your bra. Eddie grins, brain fuzzy and warm, and he can’t stop himself from leaning forward and planting a quick kiss against your lips.

“I have something for you.” He says. Your eyebrows raise, and Eddie smiles, standing up with a grunt and shaking out his stiff limbs. “Don’t move,” He points to you before padding off.

The gift Eddie has for you has been with him since the fourth week he knew you. He’s been holding onto it for so long because he’s been a coward and didn’t know how to form the words ‘I’m sorry’ with his tongue— but now, Eddie’s riding on a high, and he needs you and wants you all the time and there’s no better time than now, right?

He’s holding the gift behind his back when he steps into the living room, and he smiles at the sight of you laid out on his floor, eyes closed as you sink into the music. You’re on cloud nine, Eddie can tell.

He drops to his knees over you, pressing his free hand into the floor beside your head, and his hair creates a curtain over you when you look up at him. “You look… tempting, to say the least.”

Your eyes playfully narrow at Eddie, and you squirm beneath him, “What’re you hiding behind your back?”

There are tears in your eyes as you blink down at the gift in your hands, and you know Eddie must think you’re insane for crying over a book— a journal at that. It’s a pale yellow colored leather, with two leather straps that are tied into a neat bow, and in the corner, your name is stamped in tiny cursive gold letters— your real name. 

It’s a replica of your old journal, the one that had gotten ruined when you tore the pages out to prove a point. But you don’t understand— “How did you get this?” You ask in a soft voice.

Eddie grins, reaching out to thumb at your bottom lip, eyes soft as he watches your eyes dance over the journal. “Called in a favor from Michigan.” He jokingly says. Your chest aches, and you frown when you look up at him, fingers tight around the binding of your gift, “You talked to him?”

Eddie snickers, “Yeah. Got a lot of shit from him first, I’ll tell you that,” He pauses and scratches at the back of his neck, “He told me he hates my music.”

You laugh at that, body warm with adoration because, yeah, that sounds like your grandfather. You sniffle, wiping under your eyes, “How did you know?” You ask.

Eddie shrugs as he sits next to you, “The cover of your journal had his name on it, so I kind of pieced it together since you share a last name.”

You don’t know what to think, what to say. It’s the kindest thing Eddie (or anyone) has ever done for you. Your grandfather had been in the business of handmaking journals for as long as you can remember; he was part of the reason why you took such a liking to journalism. He had a brief history in journalism himself, and he would sit and go through his best works with you when you struggled to fall asleep— he helped you see the world through the lens of an artist, and you never looked back.

You’re elated as you run your hands over the pages, imagining what the phone call between Eddie and your grandfather was like. You wish you could’ve been there to hear it; you wish you could’ve brought Eddie to meet him in person because even though your grandfather acted tough and mighty, he had the softest heart you’ve ever known, and he would’ve adored Eddie.

You huff out a laugh, shaking your head as you put the journal on the coffee table. You huff, turning to clamber onto Eddie’s lap, glaring at him as your hands dig into his shoulders, “I hate you so much.”

Eddie grins at you, and you drop your head to his chest, snuggling further into him when he wraps his arms around you. You grumble against his chest, turning your head to speak, “You’re making it so hard.” You complain.

You feel the rumble of Eddie’s voice in his chest as he hums, “Hm?”

Eddie shifts beneath you, and you sigh, turning your head up to nuzzle against the base of his throat. Your teeth drag across his skin, red lines left in their wake before you let your tongue coast up his pulsing vein, mouth kissing and suckling at what you can reach— and Eddie whimpers.

“You know…It’s past midnight.”

“Fffuck–”

Eddie’s dead.

He’s gone. Six feet under. In the next life, body turned back to dust, never coming back, dead. This must be the seventh circle of heaven— is that a thing? Or is that only hell?

Either way, Eddie’s on an entirely different plane of heaven as you press your body against his, knees tightening around his waist as he pulls you close and smears his lips against yours. He can feel the heat of your core through his pants, and his hips have a mind of their own when they buck up into you.

Your fingers are blind and eager when they wriggle through the tight space between you and Eddie, but it sends shivers up Eddie’s spine when you drag your nails down the soft skin of his lower pelvis.

Eddie’s lips part against yours, and he’s licking into your mouth, tongue flicking at your top lip as you shakily moan. “What happened to no sex tonight?” He lowly teases. His hands sink beneath your shit, squeezing at your hips and guiding the roll of your hips.

“Shut up, Eddie.” You whine, fingertips digging into his shoulders when he rubs against your covered clit. Eddie smiles, watching as your face twists in pleasure, and his chest nearly bursts because you’re so fucking pretty.

“You want me?” He asks.

Your lips twitch into a smile, and your hands slide down his arms to rest over his wrists that flex as they work you back and forth over his crotch. “Yeah,” You breathe, tipping your head down to hover your lips over Eddie’s, “I do. I want you, Eddie.”

Eddie’s tongue runs over his lips, and he catches your bottom lip, and you lick out to catch his tongue before pressing your lips together. Eddie uses one hand to cup your face, “You’re not curious where my dick’s been while we were apart?” He teases.

And if you weren’t practically humping Eddie right now and thinking straight, you probably would’ve choked Eddie out or something— but you only mewl and grind down harder. “Not funny.”

Eddie hums, fingers dancing across the band of your panties before dipping past the barrier. He feels like a pirate who’s finally found the hidden treasure, eyes squeezing shut as he tries to ground himself because, Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking wet.

His cock feels strangled and achy in his jeans, and he imagines how good it’ll feel to sink his cock into you as he swirls a gentle finger around your entrance. “For the record,” He drawls, watching your lips part when he dips his finger into you, “It’s been nowhere. My dick, I mean.”

You breathlessly laugh, hips wriggling, your pussy eager for more. “Been beating it with my fist for the last six months, so. Just want you to know— it’s only you, baby.”

You mewl, leaning forward to press your forehead against Eddie’s as you grind against him, shivering when he finally sinks a finger into you, drawing out to circle your clit with sticky arousal before sinking back in with two fingers.

You’re sharing each breath, taking each other in and out; Eddie watches with low eyes as your face twists in pleasure.

“Take it off,” He grumbles, “Take your shirt off.”

You’re moving like it’s second nature. Shaky hands reaching down to loop around the loose shirt, dragging it up and over your body— and Eddie’s head tips back with a groan. “Jesus fuck,” He curses, one hand busy working you as the other reaches down to palm your breast, “When did you take your bra off, you fuckin’ minx?”

You whimper against Eddie’s lips when he kisses you, the force of his eagerness pushing you back. Eddie keeps pressing you back, shuffling and moving around so he can press you down onto your back and hover over you. “Wanna taste you. Let me taste you.” He begs.

You shake your head, lips messily smearing against his, “No. No, you said—” god, Eddie can’t stop fucking kissing you, “You said you’ll let me have you next time, Eds.” You whine.

Fuck, you’re so fucking cute. You’re a goddamn dream pouting up at Eddie, grinding against his fingers as he ticks them up against your walls. “Yeah? You want me?” Eddie breathlessly asks. Your lips are pouty and swollen as you nod, “Already told you I did.” You say.

It takes everything in Eddie to pull away from you, and he thinks he’s gonna marry you when you reach out for him. Thinks he wants to just whisk you away and live on the side of a secluded mountain or some shit. Thinks he wants you to be the mother of his kids when you smile up at him as he rises to his feet, gazing down at you over the apple of his cheeks as he removes his jeans. You’re so pretty, hair spread out beneath you, tits on full display, tummy fluttering with each drag and push of your breaths. You’re lightly dragging the tip of your finger down your stomach, a teasing glint in your eyes as Eddie throws his hair into the shittest bun known to man, and fuck, you’re dipping your hand between your thighs.

Yeah. This is heaven, and you’re god.

Eddie thinks he’ll spend the rest of his life on his knees worshipping you.

Eddie’s body is warm when he crawls back over you, his body now bare, save for the chains that dangle from his neck. One cross, one guitar pick, one pentagram. They’re cold when they drag up the valley of your chest, and your body perks up with chills.

You slink your arms around Eddie’s shoulders, titling your head up to kiss him as your fingers curl into his messily tied hair. “Give me what I want, Eds.” You softly say against his lips. “Fuck my mouth, please.”

Eddie curses, rutting his cock against the inside of your thigh, and he nods, “Yeah. Fuck. Okay, yeah. Just lay here and look pretty, baby.”

The lasting effects of the three blunts you’d shared with Eddie are swirling through your body, and you feel like you’re on cloud nine as Eddie straddles your hips. He’s the prettiest sight to ever reach your eyes, toned arms, and chest working in tandem as he reaches down to wrap a fist around his cock— and god; you forgot how pretty his cock was. The tip is ruddy and flushed, and your core twists when he angles himself up, and you see the piercing beneath his tip. You definitely hadn’t forgotten about that little detail these past months.

Eddie’s chest is rising and falling quickly and stray pieces of hair cling to his lips when he licks them. You watch with wide, eager eyes as Eddie strokes himself, ringed fingers running against the soft skin of his shaft, pretty hisses curling through his teeth when he thumbs the slit of his tip.

“Quit teasing,” You whine, squirming beneath him. Eddie grins, breathlessly panting as he looks at you, “So impatient.” He mumbles, shifting further up your body until the inside of his thighs press against the side of your tits. You can feel the cool drag of his rings against your sternum, and it sends licks of fire through your core. “My baby’s so impatient, hm?” He taps his cock against your chest, and your frown, fingers digging into his thighs.

“Lucky you’re cute.”

Eddie’s then shuffling and moving around so you’re both comfortably positioned as he kneels over your face, pretty cock glistening above your lips. You open your mouth and let your tongue hang out, ready for Eddie to feed his cock to you, and he chuckles, tapping his swollen tip against your tongue before dragging it to tease you. 

It’s good. It’s so good. The taste of him, the feel of him, the pretty noises he makes. You can feel the cold barbell dragging across your tongue with each slow thrust he gives you, and you can’t wait to feel it inside you again. You’ve been dreaming about it for weeks on end now.

He pulls out with a slick pop, tapping his tip against your lips as he hums, “Ready? Gonna give you what you want now.”

You’ve never nodded so fast in your life.

He’s thrusting in and out of your mouth at a mind-numbing and thigh-clenching rate for just under five minutes before he starts to break. You can feel it in the stutter of his hips, the twitch of his cock on your tongue, the shuddered moans and grunts. You reach up to drag your nails down the soft skin of his stomach, and Eddie whimpers for the second time, and you think it might be your favorite sound— you want more.

He’s pulling out with a curse, squeezing at his tip, and you’re such a fucking tease; you lean forward to kitten lick at his aching tip and hum when he hisses. He shuffles back just enough to lean forward and press a messy kiss to your lips, humming at the taste of himself on your tongue.

“Fuck me, Eddie. Please. Want it so bad it hurts.”

“Jesus fuck— turn around.”

You’re shaking, and Eddie’s touch feels like fire as he helps you flip over to lean on all fours. His hands coast up your back and into your hair, and you push your body back into him, ass pressing against his wet cock as you moan when his fingers curl into your hair.

His other hand smooths over your ass, heavily slapping it once before gripping the warm skin as he speaks beside your ear, “Wanna fuck your ass one day, hm? Gonna let me? Say you’ll let me.” “Oh my god,” You roll your eyes with a smile, tipping your head to the side when Eddie kisses your neck before nipping at your ear. You can feel the curve of his smile against your skin, and it makes your chest flutter as he pulls you up to press your back against his chest.

He’s reaching down between you to grasp his cock and paint it against your wet cunt, and you lose your breath. “Come on. Say you’ll let me fuck your pretty ass.” He practically begs.

You moan when he slips his head in, teasing you with what he knows you want. Your head rolls back to rest against his shoulder, and he hums, slinking his other hand up to cup your throat as he continues teasing himself in and out of your pussy.

You smile, lazy and high and blissed out, “No.”

Eddie groans at that, fingers tightening around your throat as he sinks in deeper. “Not even a finger?”

You push your fingers through his hair, his curly strands nothing but a tangled mess within his hair tie. Your legs tremble as you wriggle back into him, but your voice is steady as you speak, “Fuck me first, and maybe I’ll think about it.”

Eddie takes that as a challenge, apparently, because next thing you know, he’s slamming into you and pressing in to the fucking hilt— all big and pierced and toe curling to the point where your moans turn flat, and all you can do is lace your fingers through his that rest on your hip and hold on for dear fucking life.

He’s pressing you face-first into the carpet, making sure your cheek rests against the couch pillow that had been thrown aside earlier. His fingers are clenched around yours, digging into your hip as you whine and moan into his floor, sobbing out his name with each groundbreaking thrust he gives you.

It’s all-consuming; the way Eddie’s fucking you, the filthy words slipping from his mouth, the lingering effects of weed— god, you feel like an exploding star.

Supernova shit or something like that.

Eddie’s cursing and spilling dirty words of encouragement when you come, leaning over to press his chest against your back and coo into your ear.

“Such a good girl for me.”

“Keep squeezing me like that, baby. You’re so good.”

“Y’sound so pretty when you’re coming on my cock.”

You’re breathless and quivering, and a pitiful whine slips from you when Eddie pulls out, but you can feel him as he wraps his hand around his cock and finishes off, pretty moans pressed into the skin on the back of your neck. The feeling of his sticky release dripping onto your ass makes you want to go at it again already.

He’s peppering kisses across your neck and shoulders, and your body slumps onto the ground in exhaustion, but you smile when he presses his lips to yours.

“So, was that good enough? Have I been granted access to the holy grail?”

You glare at Eddie from where his chin is hooked over your shoulder. He raises a suggestive eyebrow, and you huff. “I’ll tell you what,” You start, shifting and purposely rubbing your ass back against his sensitive cock, smiling when he hisses.

“Make up for the last six months first, and I might be able to cut you a deal.”

“Now you’re just stringing me along.”

You hum, “Oh, like you did with me some months ago?”

Eddie pauses at that, eyes narrowing at you, and you think— fuck, maybe that was too soon. But then a smile cracks across his face, “Touché.”

He sighs and sits up, peeling himself from your sticky skin before gently patting your hip. “Ass up, baby. Got a lot of making up to do, and we’re on a tight schedule.”

And you think to yourself, with the scent of Eddie whirling around you and his touch all over you and his pretty voice in your ear, that yeah, you can work through this together. Even if the process will tear you to shreds all over again.

After all, that’s the price of falling for a rockstar, isn’t it?

————

the end.

————

a/n: HOLY SHIT GUYS

if you've made it to the end of this long-winded (and incredibly late, I'm so sorry) ending to this story i can not thank you enough. these two have been so fun to write and i don't plan to leave them completely in the dust so they're not gone forever, but thank you so much to everyone who read and shared and commented. this story has allowed me to meet the most beautiful, kind, funny, and loving people I've ever had the pleasure of talking to and that will be my biggest takeaway from this journey🥹

the biggest thank yous to my pretty mutuals who have been here the whole way, ilysm and want to shrink you guys and put you in my pocket <3

anyway, i'll shut up now, i hope i was able to do these two justice with their ending!! i love and appreciate all kinds of feedback, and as always, thank you for reading, ily <3

————

cutie lil taglist: @mastermindmiko @whataboutbibi @ryanmxrie @ihatepeanutss @tlclick73 @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @ye0nvibezzn @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @chloe-6123 @micheledawn1975 @demxnicprxncess @emma77645 @sidthedollface2

@daddyhetfield @s-u-t @hereforshmut @mmunson86 @welcometohellsock @lma1986 @birdsinmywalls @animechick555 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @spideydreams00 @lorosette @prestinalove @sirensleepingsoundly @nabiiturner @catherinnn

@mossiswriting @kellsck @joannamuns9n @siriuslysmoking @mysteris-things @amazingori @honey-eyed-munson @saintlike78 @eddieslooneymoonie @alexa4040 @yujyujj

[totaldrama-showdowns]

GEN 4 SHIP SHOWDOWN FINALE

Propaganda

Rajbow: “the episode they kissed made me cry. like the pudding was gross but to get a healthy gay couple in a normally so homophobic franchise is so refreshing. everyone say thank you terry”

“best canon reboot ship (u know it’s true)”

“RAJBOW RAJ BOW RAJWBOR WR”

“Rajbow nation, wake up :3”

Mkulia: “Why did they have more chemistry than the canon ships. how. evil lesbian win”

“JK. because fresh says "jk" at yuri”

“I love yuri”

“they are in love with each other in a way that makes me kick my feet and twirl my hair and giggle.”

“cmon. theyre in love. and they fucking love and respect each other so much it’s the rivalry of all time”

“Evil yuri, that’s it”

“EVIL LESBIANS!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

[sidekick-hero]

I'm in the corner, watching you kiss her

Written for @steddieangstyaugust day 3, prompt “The sunset looks lovely, don’t you think?”

tags: future fic, pining, not actually unrequited love, angst with a happy ending, Eddie Munson needs a hug

words: 2.5k | AO3 | rated: teen

Eddie had sworn to himself that he was done being a coward. He didn’t run from the demo-bats, and he wouldn’t run away ever again.

That’s why he decided to call Paige once he got out of the hospital in 1986. Years had passed since things ended rather abruptly and dramatically between them. He had left her hanging, even though there hadn’t been much he could have done about it, what with his dad dragging him into his shitshow of a criminal life. She still had paid his bail when he was arrested because of his dad’s scheming, even though he couldn’t join her in LA to audition for her boss, a famous music producer.

He never properly thanked her, never really talked things through. The pain, the bitterness, the shame were too big, too oppressive.

They cleared the air between them, and Eddie decided to use his hush money to pay Paige back and make the trip to LA, a few years later than planned.

Rekindling their old flame seemed like the logical thing to do, especially when Eddie managed to score another audition. While his music career took off, their relationship did not. Too much had happened, and they both changed over the last three years.

But they remained friends. Still are, in fact. She was one of the first people he came out to as bisexual. While his friendship with Robin and Steve had grown substantially since their shared adventures—nightmares, more like—Paige didn’t have a clear picture of who Eddie was supposed to be. The risk seemed smaller somehow.

Now, ten years later, he’s out and proud, thanks to men like Freddy Mercury and David Bowie, who made being a bisexual man in the music world somewhat acceptable. It still isn’t easy, but he’s happy.

Well, mostly happy.

Even though he’s a successful rockstar now, he still makes time to see the kids, who are all over the country. Dustin is in Boston with Nancy, Jonathan, and Will. Lucas and Max are back in California, so he sees them the most—he even officiated their wedding. Mike and El are still in Indiana, close to Hopper and Joyce in Hawkins.

He also visits his uncle Wayne, of course. And when he makes the trip West, he always stops by Chicago to spend time with Robin and Steve. They come to his shows whenever they can, sometimes making a vacation out of it, like when he played in New York.

They’re all still close, even if they don’t see each other as often as they’d like. So Eddie’s unfortunate crush on Steve Harrington never had a chance to fully go away. Every time Steve walks towards him with a blinding smile and wraps him in a tight, too-short hug, the butterflies in his stomach wake from their winter sleep.

There had been a few times over the years when Eddie thought that maybe, just maybe, Steve felt the same way. Like the morning of Joyce and Hopper’s wedding in 1989. They had bought a house together that was almost, but not quite, big enough to house everyone, so Steve and Eddie had shared a bed. Eddie had woken up in Steve’s arms, his chest pressed against Eddie’s back and a noticeably hard length against his ass. Steve’s face had been in his neck, hot puffs of air brushing against Eddie’s skin with each breath.

It had been the sweetest torture. Eddie convinced himself it was just a natural reaction to another body in bed with him, but when Steve woke up, he didn’t scramble away or push Eddie off. Instead, he stroked Eddie’s bare arm and murmured, “Morning,” in his ear. Then, he’d shifted back a bit so Eddie could turn around, searching his gaze. The air between them crackled with electricity, a tension so thick Eddie could barely swallow.

“Eddie,” Steve had begun, just as a pounding on the door startled them both. They jumped apart quickly before Henderson barged into the room, urging them to hurry up and get dressed because everyone was waiting for them.

Another time, in 1991, Steve had visited Eddie in LA without Robin, whose girlfriend had invited her to meet her parents. They spent a whole week together, swimming in the ocean, walking along the beach, and going to a few clubs where they danced with each other in ways you never could in Hawkins. At the end of that week, Steve held him for a long, long time, seemingly unwilling to let Eddie go when they said goodbye at the airport. They had to call his name over the speaker system to make him let go of Eddie.

The last time Eddie wondered if Steve could ever feel the same for him had been almost two years ago. Steve had called him while Eddie was in Europe. When Eddie answered, he’d just come back from the aftershow party of his concert in Berlin.

“Guten Tag,” he had jokingly greeted Steve, expecting at least a low chuckle, but Steve sounded… off.

“Eds, hi. Sorry that I’m bothering you so late—”

“You could never bother me, Stevie,” Eddie reassured him immediately because he was pretty sure there wasn’t any time Steve couldn’t call and Eddie wouldn’t want to speak to him.

“Okay.” Steve still sounded off, causing worry to creep up on Eddie.

“What is it? Did something happen? Are you okay? Is Robin?” Eddie bombarded him with questions, suddenly sure something horrible must have happened.

“No, nothing happened. We’re all fine. Sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you. It’s just… I’m calling because I met someone. A woman,” he clarified, as if it could have been anything else. The golden boy of Hawkins wouldn’t call because of a man, now would he? “It’s getting pretty serious. I’m thinking about moving in with her.”

“Oh wow, I didn’t know you were seeing someone. That’s… that’s great, Stevie. I’m happy for you.”

“You are?”

“Yes, of course! Why wouldn’t I be? That’s what you always wanted, right? Someone to marry, to have your six lil’ nuggets with. Aren’t you happy?”

Steve hesitated for a long moment, and Eddie had just started to wonder if they got disconnected when he finally answered. “I guess.”

“You… guess? That doesn’t sound very enthusiastic.”

There was something Eddie wasn’t getting, he was sure of it.

“Do you ever feel like you’re looking at everything you’ve done, everything you worked toward, everything you thought you wanted to be, and wonder if that’s really you or just something that was expected of you, so you made it your whole personality?”

Eddie didn’t know what to say to that, didn’t know what Steve needed to hear. He could be selfish and tell Steve that maybe he didn’t have to be the poster boy anymore, that he didn’t need to marry a woman and have a hoard of Harringtons with her to have a family who loves him unconditionally. But he would only be saying that to cling to the unobtainable dream of Steve and him for a bit longer, and maybe it was time Eddie faced reality.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to be supportive. “Steve, if she makes you happy, then you should go for it. You deserve to have someone who makes you feel loved. You’ve been through enough to not take a shot at happiness, right? If it’s what you really want, don’t let doubts get in the way.”

“So you think I should go for it?” Steve asked, and Eddie couldn’t place the tone of his voice.

“Yes, I think you should. You deserve your fairy tale ending, Stevie. The knight in shining armor should get the pretty princess, right?”

Steve sighed, and Eddie had no idea why he sounded so forlorn. “Right. Thank you, Eddie. See you at Friendsgiving at Joyce’s?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Eddie replied, meaning it. But when they hung up, he still felt like he had said the wrong thing.

At their yearly get-together on Thanksgiving, Eddie met Laura for the first time. He liked her instantly, even though she got to have what he wanted so badly. She was beautiful, smart, and had a dry sense of humor he could appreciate. And she was clearly head over heels for Steve, something Eddie could relate to.

The Eddie before March ‘86 would have begrudged her happiness with the man he was in love with. He would have been petty, maybe even cruel. He also would have run away, avoiding Steve with weak excuses. Eddie did none of these things because he had grown up and learned that some things were more important than a bruised heart.

The happiness of someone he loved, for example.

So when Steve asked him to be one of the groomsmen at his wedding, Eddie said yes.

He was done running.

On the morning of the wedding, which was supposed to be in Hawkins, because they wanted to celebrate at Joyce and Hopper’s place with the whole ‘family,’ Eddie got dressed in his fancy tuxedo with a red bow tie and even tamed his wild curls into an artful man-bun.

Eddie Munson would go through with this, no matter how much he didn’t want to.

He would not run away.

When he climbed into his rental car and started to drive towards the church in town, he was convinced that he could do this. Watch the man he was in love with marry someone else. He wouldn’t be the first person in history and certainly not the last to do it.

For Steve, he would even face the Upside Down again. What was a wedding in comparison?

It was only when he puts his car into park at the side of the path leading up to the Quarry that Eddie has to admit to himself that maybe he wasn’t done running away just yet.

Sitting on the edge of the Quarry, he lets his thoughts wander, replaying the last ten years. How many times had Steve and he sat here with a cool beer and a warm blanket, gazing at the stars and sharing everything, from comfortable silences to deep secrets? He wants Steve to be happy, but he finds that he can’t be there to witness him being happy with someone else. Eddie swears to himself as he watches the sun wander across the horizon that he’ll make it up to Steve somehow. He can’t lose Steve, he just can’t.

Eddie hopes that Steve will forgive him one day for missing one of the most important days in his life.

The day goes by quickly, the thoughts in his head running in circles enough to distract him from the passage of time or basic human needs like thirst or hunger.

“The sunset looks lovely, don’t you think?”

The voice startles him badly, almost making him lose his balance and tumble down into certain death. What a poetic way to go, if not for the strong arms steadying him.

“Easy there. Don’t have to fling yourself off a cliff just to get away from me,” Steve jokes, but it sounds strained.

“Steve,” Eddie breathes out, wonder, guilt, and shame warring inside him. Even more so when he realizes that Steve’s still in his tuxedo, looking breathtakingly handsome. “Oh God, I am so sorry, Stevie. I—”

But there are no words to explain to Steve why he couldn’t be there for his best friend’s wedding. At least none that wouldn’t be “I couldn’t watch you marry someone else.” He can’t put this weight on Steve’s shoulders. And selfishly, Eddie doesn’t think he could handle Steve looking at him differently. He wouldn’t hate Eddie for it, but he would feel bad for him, trying not to make it any harder on him. They would see each other less and less, a new distance building between them until one day, Eddie was just a guy in some old pictures and memories.

“I didn’t marry her,” Steve says into the ensuing silence, and Eddie thinks he must have heard him wrong.

Eddie's breath catches in his throat, and he turns to face Steve fully, searching his face for any sign that this is a joke or a misunderstanding. But Steve’s expression is serious, his eyes reflecting a mixture of relief and something else Eddie can’t quite place.

“What do you mean, you didn’t marry her?” Eddie asks, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Steve sighs and sits down next to Eddie, their shoulders almost touching. “I couldn’t go through with it, Eddie. I realized that I was trying to force myself into a life that wasn’t mine. I was trying to be someone I thought I should be, instead of who I really am.”

Eddie’s heart pounds in his chest, a wild mix of hope and fear. “What are you saying, Steve?”

Steve turns to look at him, eyes filled with a vulnerability Eddie rarely sees. “I’m saying that I’ve been lying to myself. And to you. I’ve spent so long trying to fit into this mold that I forgot what it was like to be truly happy. I thought marrying Laura was what I wanted, but when it came down to it, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Eddie’s mind races, struggling to keep up with what Steve is saying. “Me? What about me?”

Steve takes a deep breath, as if gathering his courage. “Eddie, you’ve been a constant in my life for the last ten years. The one person except for Robin I can truly be myself around. You make me feel alive in ways no one else does. I think… No, I know that I have feelings for you. I’ve been too scared to admit it, even to myself, but I can’t keep running from it anymore.”

Eddie feels like the ground is shifting beneath him. He’s spent so long hiding his own feelings, convincing himself that they were one-sided. “Steve, I—”

But Steve cuts him off, placing a hand gently on Eddie’s cheek. “You don’t have to say anything right now. I just needed you to know. I couldn’t go through with marrying Laura because it wouldn’t have been fair to her. Or to me.”

Eddie leans into Steve’s touch, his heart pounding in his chest. “I’ve been in love with you for so long, Stevie. I didn’t think you could ever feel the same.”

Steve’s eyes soften, and he moves closer, their faces inches apart. “I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out. But I’m here now, and I want to see where this can go. If you’ll have me.”

Eddie’s eyes fill with tears of relief and joy. “Of course, I’ll have you, Steve. I’ve always wanted you.”

Steve smiles, and it’s like the sun breaking through the clouds. He leans in, closing the distance between them, and their lips meet in a gentle, tentative kiss. It feels like coming home, and Eddie knows that he’ll do everything he can to never lose this feeling ever again.

[slvthrs]

ALL THE THINGS WE MEANT TO SAY | vinnie hacker

— MINORS PLEASE FUCK OFF FOR UR OWN GOOD —

one stupid red hoodie makes it impossible for you to do anything and the only thing you can do is try to give it back

OLD BSF!VINNIE X FEM!READER

WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT MINORS DNI, ANGSTY, + some fluff, sex, making out, grinding, oral (f receiving) praise kink, cheating, they're both not the best people but they're in love

word count: 4.7k <3

This dumb fucking hoodie.

I don’t know what to do with it. 

I’ve had it for a week now and it’s been sitting on my desk, folded perfectly and untouched.  The red on it is slightly faded and cat hair covers it instead of dog now but it still is the same crewneck that I loved on Vinnie and the same one I would wear every time I slept over at his.

But now I can’t even touch it. It smelt like him, it felt like him, it was just so Vinnie and it was too much for me.

3 days I spent trying to just ignore it despite everything my friends said, also trying to ignore Vinnie’s calls and texts.

And now I’ve spent 2 hours on a call with my best friend, Bowie, debating what to do with that stupid hoodie.

“I swear to god just get rid of it, burn it, rip it to shreds I don’t know babe just do something to get rid of it.” Bowie argues

She’s always been better at relationships than me. To the point that she and her girlfriend were planning for their one year anniversary in 2 weeks while I was her worried about a boy I haven’t seen in years.

“I can’t get rid of it, Bow.” I sigh

“Oh c’mon! Vinnie slept with you and literally RAN away the next day and refused to talk to you for 3 years, PLUS he has a girlfriend… you know you deserve better!”

“I know, you're right but I just can’t Bowie, I’m sorry.”

“Why,” She exclaims, “What is so special about this stupid hoodie and Vinnie?”

…

“I actually think I’m gonna die, Mom please hurry up.” I sigh, clutching my stomach.

We’ve been on the road for 5 hours now and we haven’t taken a single bathroom brake since we couldn’t spot a gas station but my bladder was screaming at me

“You're so dramatic, y'know that right?” Vinnie quips from the seat next to me causing me to throw my bag at his chest.

He’s sitting with his headphones in, playing some game on his console with the light from the window shining on the side of his face illuminating his side profile so perfectly. 

The pain in my stomach doesn’t stop and I bend forward resting my head against the seat in front of me with my hands holding my stomach tight.

I feel a hand rubbing on my back and I realize it’s Vinnie trying to help and then suddenly I feel a sharp pain in my stomach and everything just clicks.

I’m on my fucking period. 

“Mom,” I say, my voice hoarse. “Please tell me you found a bathroom, I’m pretty sure I just got my goddamn period.”

She tries to reassure me and turns into a parking lot while Vinnie keeps rubbing my back and offers me food to which I throw it at his face.

We finally get to a run down bath station which I run into with everything I need and I’m able to clean up but there's still a huge stain in my pants and for some reason I feel tears well up in my eyes and I just sit on the point seat for about 5 minutes until I finally force myself to wipe my tears and get up.

I walk back to the car but I hear a voice shouting at me from behind.

“Hey wait up!” It’s Vinnies, he’s holding a bag with snacks and a hoodie in his right hand, leaving the shop nearby. 

“Take this, it’ll cover your pants up, plus it’s a Washington sweatshirt, and your favorite color!”

It’s a pretty red with white letters spelling out our state. It’s too big for me, most probably Vinnie’s size. 

It’s cute. 

He helps me wrap the sweatshirt around my waist and walks with my back to the car right next to me.

We settle back into our seats and thank god that no blood spilled onto the car seat.

With all the bags and the fact that we were in the back with the rest of our families in the front plus Vinnie basically grew a foot over the year, we were crammed together in the back seats with our legs hitting the others and our shoulders touching.

I end up plugging my headphones in and listening to music while staring outside the window, looking at the trees and the sky trying to take in nature but not even 30 minutes in and my stomach hurts again.

I try to hold it but Vinnie realizes and dumps the plastic bag of all the stuff he brought on my lap.

I look into it and I see chocolate, all my favorite candy and snacks, bottles of my favorite soda and medicine in there. 

He didn’t buy anything for himself, he only bought stuff for me.

“Thank you Vin.” But my voice comes out no louder than a whisper.

“Eh, don't sweat it, you're awful on your period.” He laughs and I punch him in the shoulder.

“Asshole.” I mutter.

I end up falling asleep with my head on his shoulder listening to Ivy by Frank Ocean.

I never forgot that roadtrip; it was 2 years before Vinnie left for LA.

…

“You just don’t get it Bow, I can’t get rid of it!” I reiterate.

The phone call goes silent as I droop against my head board sighing. 

My eyes roam back to the hoodie again.

I should give it back to him.

“What if I give it back to him?” I mutter to Bowie

“Babe no,” She continues, “You're using this as an excuse to go see him and it’s not gonna end up well.”

“But Bow-” I try to reason with her but she cuts me off.

“C’mon, we both know you shouldn’t go see him.” 

“I know, I know. I’ll call you tomorrow; Love you.” I tell her

“I love you too, get some rest.” And she ends the call

I lay down on my bed staring back up at the ceiling. 

Bowie is right, I’m just trying to make an excuse to see Vinnie and he probably doesn’t even want the hoodie back.

My mind goes blank as I stare up at the wall.

Bowie is right.

But I rarely ever do what’s right.

I get up and grab the hoodie, the bag it came with along with my phone and car keys and walk down to the parking lot and before I realize it I’m punching in the code to Vinnie’s house I got from Harvey into the GPS and driving off.

The road is wet from the rain which happens once in a blue moon and there is a surprisingly few number of cars on the road for this city but I try to look at that as a positive.

I try to put some music on and it auto plays to ‘White Ferrari’ by Frank Ocean and suddenly I remember this is an awful idea.

What if he’s home with Allison?

What if he doesn’t wanna see me?

What if he refuses to take the hoodie back?

What if I make a fool of myself?

Panic racks up in my brain and thousands of ‘what ifs’ terrify me. Just the thought of Vinnie not wanting to see me makes me wanna drive my car off a bridge but I try to push every negative thought away.

I skip the next few songs until my phone lands on “Black Beauty” by Lana Del Rey. 

Every single day after Vinnie got his license we would blast this song, screaming the lyrics and staying out until our parents would call us home.

He loved to drive and I loved just sitting there in his presence, not even talking just being there with each other, it was our favorite thing to do together.

Now I have to drive myself everywhere in a black Honda Civic. 

…

“This car is actually fucked you don’t get it like everything about it is broke what the hell did my dad make me fix this shit? I fucking hate Hondas.” Vinnie whines, he loves fixing cars but still always drags me to sit there and watch him do it whilst I text my friends.

The dust and oil lay cover his face whilst he sits there with black gloves and poking and prodding under the hood of the car.

“Oh c’mon are you even listening to me?” 

“Yes yes I promise! And why don’t you just tell your dad you can’t fix this car?” I tilt my head to the side practically begging to finish this up.

“No, I’m gonna finish this and then we’re going out for ice cream.” He says with his chest puffed like it’s an amazing, unthinkable plan.

“Whatever Hacker, at least this car is cool.” I say sliding my hand across the shine of the black.

“It’s not. You just like every black car.” He shrugs but he’s right, I love black cars.

“Hey when we grow up I’ll buy you a black JDM so we can match.” He huff’s and I can feel a smile tugging the corners of my lips.

“We both know I’ll be the one making enough money to buy a car.” 

“Whatever, as long as I get to drive you around in it.” He replies

I smile to myself imagining Vinnie and I when we were old still doing the same things we did as kids, driving and smoking until the sun comes up.

A familiar feeling in my stomach rises as we return to doing our own thing and I return to texting on my phone.

“Who have you been texting so much anyways?” He asks about 10 minutes putting some random tool down and picking up another

“No one Vin, it’s just that guy from that skate shop, he’s actually kinda cool I think you would like him!”

“Oh.” He replies in that voice he gets when he tries to not get mad

“Yeah! He asked me to go on a date with him to a skatepark.” I reply beaming.

“You're joking right? I ask you to go every week but you never do,” He reminds me whilst twisting something inside the car, “ But you’ll go with the sketchy guy from a skate park who always smells like weed and let me remind you, I’m literally a better skater than he is!”

“Dude it’s not that serious it’s just some dumb date!” I raise my voice at him but I don’t even understand why

“Fuck fine whatever just don’t come back crying when the date goes horribly with that guy.” He retorts staring dagger in my direction

“Whatever, I'm not gonna come back crying and you're just being a dick cause no one wants to go out with you.” I walk off when I finish leaving Vinnie in his dad’s garage.

Vinnie was right however, the date went terribly that night. He picked me up an hour late and all we did was smoke and walk around and when I wanted to leave he got pissed I didn’t hook up with him.

I ended up walking by foot to Vinnie’s house and ended up spending the rest of the evening crying into Vinnie’s familiar red Washington crewneck.

That was 3 weeks before Vinnie left for LA.

…

The drive feels like it’s going so slow. 

My mind is so scattered that I keep zoning out until the robotic voice of the GPS snaps me out of my self induced trance. 

The closer I get to Vinnie’s house the harder it gets to breathe and the more my mind keeps disassociating. 

My eye’s keep getting foggy and I start getting scared that I shouldn’t be driving in this condition.

I run my hands through my hair, pulling at the roots.

It’s dry, I need to put oil in it.

I watch as the lights flash from red to green and watch as the trees sway due to the rain, watching stray’s scatter across the road’s and how my windshield wipers turn from one side to another trying to flick all the water droplets off.

The more breaths I take, the shallower they get before I finally decide to pull over on the side of the road.

My head falls against the wheel as I try to relax, forcing myself to take slow deep breaths, in through my nose and out of my mouth.

But I jolt my head back up as I get a call, grabbing my phone and picking it up, praying it’s not Bowie.

“Hello?” I whisper into my phone

“Jesus, Y/n where the fuck are you?” Vinnie replies back at me

“Vinnie? What the hell are you talking about?” My voice rises

“Outside your house, I’ve been waiting for like 10 minutes, where are you?” I can hear the rain pattering on the other side of the call. 

“Fuck, I have a key under my doormate, I was just…out.” I half-lie.

“Just get here okay?” His voice is softer now and I can hear him unlock my door and walk in, ending the call.

What the fuck.

What is Vinnie doing at my house?

How does he even know where I live?

A thousand questions race through my head as I take my car out of park and turn it to drive back to my house, pressing on the gas and driving as fast as I can. 

I arrive back there in about fifteen minutes and as I pull my car into the parking spot I suddenly become very aware of what I left the house wearing.

It was my black bralette and a pair of low rise sweats and I slammed my head against my wheel again.

I’m not going to see Vinnie in this yet there's nothing in my car to cover me up.

I mentally swear at myself for not thinking ahead enough cause even if I got to Vinnie’s house was I really gonna walk in wearing just a bralette and sweats?

The only thing in this car, besides me, is that red hoodie sitting right next to me, basically taunting me.

The stupid hoodie I tried to ignore for a week, sitting there, being my only option- it was like karma.

I slip the hoodie over my head as the neckline dangles over my shoulder. The sleeves are far too big and threads are coming loose. But one thing is most noticeably different, it’s scent. 

What used to be old Axe body spray mixed with sweat, weed and dog smell, is now Dior cologne, teakwood, with smoke but with something else. 

It’s pretty lavender and the essence of pineapple- Allison’s scent.

He gave our hoodie to her.

The hoodie he gave me he gave her.

I take a second to breathe again, letting the cool air enter my body and try to cool me off in the process.

I get so entranced in the hoodie that I nearly forget I’m supposed inside with Vinnie.

I slip out of the car and ever so slightly push down the handle walking into my own home with heavy steps, far too upset to try to be quiet.

I slip past the shoe rack and through the mirror and art littering my house. 

Barely any lights are on and I can smell coffee from the morning and smoke from earlier in the day as I walk into my living room.

And there he is.

The same guy who left me days after he turned 18, after everything. He’s just sitting on my couch.

His head is tipped back with his hair damp from the rainwater, his legs are spread apart as he has his phone in his right hand whilst his left is fidgeting and picking at the skin surrounding his thumb. It was always his dumb tick that he did when he was stressed and I can’t help but feel worried.

“Vinnie.” I breathe out so desperately it sounds like a prayer

He stands up so fast he nearly loses his balance and he walks over to me in quick, hurried strides as he catches his balance like a baby giraffe running to its mother.

“Fuck I didn’t realise you arrived.” His voice is no louder than mine.

“Why wouldn’t I, Hacker?” His last name is all I can bear to muster to his face, “It is my home isn’t it?”

“That’s not what I meant.” He stops and breathes,”Hey, you're wearing the hoodie.”

A smile bleeds onto his face and a light blush quickly accompanies it.

“Yeah all my other hoodies were in the wash.”

And the smile fades away.

“Oh, of course.” He stops for a second, “But um, where were you?”

“It’s funny actually I was on my way to your house.” I chuckle to myself avoiding eye contact with Vinnie but he doesn't laugh.

He steps closer to me and now he’s towering right above me

“Why were you coming to my house?” He asks, his eyebrows knit together, looking at me confused.

His hands gently pull my chin up so I can look at him and for a second he looks like the same guy I fell in love with for the first time.

But I pull away, it’s not the same. 

It’s never going to be the same again.

“I wanted to give you your hoodie back.” I say looking away from him

“But it’s not mine… I gave it you to keep-” I cut him off

“I don’t care Vinnie, you have a girlfriend, I haven’t seen you in 3 years I didn’t want your stupid hoodie asshole, I wanted you.” 

I say the last part before I realize what I just said with shaky eyes and a stuttered breath.

Everything goes quiet, we don’t say a word, we don’t even move. The only sound in my house is the dripping of my broken sink and the brushing of the plants across the wall.

“Fine.”

“What?” 

“Fine, give me the hoodie. It’s what you wanted to do anyways.”

Is he fucking serious right now?

“Sure whatever.” I grit through my teeth

I pull the plush of the hoodie off letting it settle in my hands before passing it back to Vinnie and then bringing my hands back up to my chest trying to cover myself up.

He takes the hoodies and holds it in his hand whilst his eyes rake over my body, going over the curves, watching as my skin ebbs and flows from my bralette into my sweatpants and as my hair sits, flowing over my shoulder like I’m the prettiest thing in the world.

“Allison.” I spit out like venom, a lot meaner than I intended, trying to catch Vinnie’s attention again.

“Huh?” He asks, his tone bleeding with disinterest

“Your girlfriend… remember?” 

“Right.” Yet he still doesn’t look away from me. 

His eyes rake all over my body watching, trying to memorize everything that has changed over the past 3 years. He’s trying to take everything in.

“You should leave Vin.” I say trying to stay stern

“Sure,” He shrugs off before he snaps out of his trance, “Wait what?”

He’s making this all so hard, I try so hard to ignore the way his gaze makes the hairs at the back of my neck stand up and causes butterflies to erupt in my stomach.

I try to pretend I’m not talking to Vinnie.

“I said you should go Hacker.”

“Wait, why?” He asks with that glint in his eyes.

It’s such a dumb question and we both know the answer to it but Vinnie tries so hard to pretend he doesn’t know why.

“Cause I’m trying to be strong for both of us, Vinnie.”

“Don’t be.” His voice is so quiet as he steps closer to me, his hand resting on my forearm whilst his other one holds on to the hoodie that got me in this circumstance in the first place

It takes me so much strength to not lean into his touch.

“You have a girlfriend.” I breathe out, looking right at him.

“I have a girlfriend.” He repeats but his tone is so much more soothing.

“We’re gonna fuck everything up.” I say and get a familiar feeling of deja vu

“We might fuck everything up,” He stops for a second, “But how could we fuck things up even more?”

He’s right.

This relationship is already doomed.

His eyes flick down to my lips and suddenly my hands are looped around his neck with our lips pressed together, his hands trails down my waist and he grabs both my legs, hooking them around his waist.

Our lips push against each other whilst my hands pull and tug in his hair, they trail down his face and I push them under his shirt.

He swipes his tongue across the bottom of my lip and his grasp on my thighs causing me to moan into the kiss, letting the kiss grow deeper and letting both of us gasping and moaning into each other's mouths, afraid that the moment would end.

We end up falling on to my couch, him towering over placing sweet kisses all over my neck and trailing down farther, trying to make up for the years we spent apart.

The kisses quickly turn into love bits and his roaming hands quickly start taking off the clothes we have on, my bralette falls onto the floor and Vinnie’s shirt is thrown over the armrest.

Gushes of cold air fly through my window and both tighten our grasps on each other in a futile attempt to cool us down, his hips grinding over my cunt and my nails dig into his back to try to get closer to him.

His hips are so unbearably slow whilst his lips are so fast and his hands play a tantalizing game scratching, clawing, and massaging the plush of my skin.

His lips are so chapped but they still feel nice, in between mine as he slipped his tongue in between the warmth of my lips.

I need to buy him chapstick

“Fuck I missed you so much.” He moans into my lips as his hands fall down in between my thighs and his hands slowly undo the knot and pull my pants along with my underwear off leaving my fully exposed under him as he dips his head below.

Faint kisses are placed all over my lower stomach and as they get closer to the inside of my thighs they turn into bites and my airy gasps turn into echoey moans as they bounce around my house coating the walls as my chest heaves up and down and my hands flow along the curves of his shoulder, tracing the muscles there.

“So pretty,” He heaves out, “So so fucking pretty.” His tongue lapped at my cunt, focusing on my clit whilst my eyes rolled to the back of my head.

My legs contorted as my right hand pulled and yanked in his hair whilst my left clawed through his back gaining a hiss from the blonde under me.

It didn’t take long before I came into his mouth with him sucking at my clit and vulgar moans and curse fell through my lips.

He lifted his head up back to see me and I could see the lower side of his face glistening whilst his eyes had darkened with lust to the point the faint brown looked like pools of rich obsidian ink.

He heaved above me before diving back into attacking my neck and lips and my hands returned around his neck.

“Fuck Vinnie,” It slips from my lips whilst his neck is sucking beautiful amethyst marks onto my neck, “God where did you learn how to do that.”

“Oh shut up.” He laughs continuing kissing me all over whilst his finger slowly and tantalizing play with my already swollen cunt.

My hands trail down his chest, feeling my hands go over his muscles reaching to the base of his pants I tug at the belt, whining, asking for permission to take them off.

“Please Vin.”

He laughs, “Please what baby?”

“Fuck me please.” I ask undoing his buckle and try to pull his belt off, right before he stops me, his hands grabbing mine.

“Jesus, were you always this bossy when we were kids?” His eyebrow quirks up, “Ask nicely.”

It’s a command that sends a shiver down my spin and I relax into his touch.

“Please.”

“Do you know what 'nicely' means?” He teases

“Vinnie, please.” I whine, looking up at him through my lashes and I watch as he breaks above me.

Years could go by and I will always know what’ll break him.

“I hate you.” He whispers onto my lips and pulls his pants down.

When he finally starts fucking me it takes me a second to get re-used to his size but when he finally starts thrusting into me I hide my head into his neck to try and subdue my voice.

My legs wrapped around his waist as my hands marked his back with red lines.

He sped up his pace and I arched into his touch, my heart was pounding in my chest and Vinnie wasn’t giving me a break. 

He held me down by my hips and as I looked up at him I could see his eyebrows knitted together, looking as if he was focusing on making me feel good. 

My hands laced their fingers together behind his head as I looked back into his eyes staring at him.

We stayed like that for a bit right before he dipped his head down kissing along my chest and placing kisses along my tits, covering them in marks and bites, sucking hickies all over them and marking them up.

His kisses moved upwards towards my neck and ear and he placed more kisses along my neck and bit my earlobe whimpering and moaning, making sure I could hear how easily and quickly he fell apart for me.

As we both got closer to our ends his pace became relentless, slamming into me, hooking my leg over his shoulder to get a  better anger and more illicit, pornographic moans to fall from my lips.

When he finally came in me, he fell on top of me and we both breathed out trying to catch our breaths.

We stayed there for a bit to try to cool down.

He ended up cleaning me up and we just lay there on my sofa, my body swung over his as my head lay on his chest.

I trace his tattoos with my nails listening to his heartbeat and the sounds of satisfaction he makes whenever I scratch certain spots.

His hands trace my back ever so slowly whilst his other one lies behind his head, propping him up.

The room had quickly gone from being filled with moans of ecstasy and the sound of skin coming together to my voice humming and Vinnie breathing ever so gently.

We don’t say a word to each other but look up and his hand pushes away the hair on my face and lifts my chin up so he can place a gentle kiss on my lips.

We just stay in the kiss looking into each other's eyes and I truly let myself believe that we could be together.

I imagine us back home in Seattle, just us. 

Everything’s the same. Ponchos sitting on his bed with his head in my lap. Vinnie’s playing some new game that just came out. 

And he never left for LA.

He never left me.

I let myself forget for a moment and convinced myself that I didn’t just sleep with the man who left me all alone but rather I slept with the man that I truly thought I was going to end up marrying when I was a young girl.

I let myself forget.

But before we can deepen the kiss Vinnie’s phone buzzes and when he picks it up he sees her name.

Allison.

And without another word Vinnie puts on his clothes and leaves me there.

All over again.

But this time Inew what would happen but I still did it.

I lie there in my underwear staring at the ceiling and turn my gaze to the floor.

He left the red hoodie.

At this point I have no shame, I pick it up and slip it over my head and it smells so different.

It smells of sweat, mistakes, and all the things we meant to say.

[itsscromp]

I was thinking about post gotg 3, Rocket and a reader who helps him taking care of the little raccoons they rescued, it would be adorable 🥹

They can be a handful

YES !!!!!!!, So much flarking yes. I absolutely love this idea anon, which was easily the movie's best moment. Word count:512

You were peacefully sleeping in your room on the ship when you felt a patter of very small paws on your cheek, grumbling a little, you woke up to find it was one of the raccoons that Rocket had saved.

"Hey little guy" You said, smiling tiredly as you gently scratched its head, making it chitter happily.

"Got lost huh, I'll get you back to rocket" You sat up, gently holding the raccoon as you got out of bed and went to his room, To which looked like a mess.

"What's wrong bud ??"

"They escaped and I can't flarking find them !!!"

"First of all, language in front of the child. Secondly, just relax, we'll find them ok ??" You reassured.

Ever since he rescued the small creatures, you were by his side helping him through it all of taking care of them, from feeding them to cleaning them. You helped him every step of it all.

"Right... sorry" He took a deep breath and then regained his composure. "Ok let's go look for them"

So you two began to look high and low of the bowie, finding one or two in the cockpit, but where were the rest of them ?? You could see Rocket getting more and more worried by the minute, Have they run away... Or... what if something worse to them happened ??

"Rocket... stay with me Ok?? We found a few of them, I'm sure they're just somewhere in the ship, maybe internally"

"But that's where the combusters are !!, Oh god, they're going to get bur... I'm horrible... I can't even take care of them..."

"Hey, Don't say that. Rocket, you took care of Groot when he was just a bare twig, And look at him now, he's thriving more than ever thanks to you. Because you took care of him, and if you can take care of him, you can take care of these raccoons ok ??" You reassured him softly, to which the raccoons chittered, somewhat agreeing with you.

"Your... Your right. I got this... Thanks y/n" He smiled up at you and went back to looking.

Going further through the ship, he looked inside the ship's internal compartments, but sadly no raccoons, then his ears picked up soft chirping.

"What is it..."

"Shhh" He listened closely to find where the chirping was coming from and followed it.

You two walked to near the ship's heater and found them... all snuggled up soaking in the warmth of the heater.

"Guess they must've gotten cold last night" You said as you gently placed down the found raccoons so they can join for a nap.

"I guess so, maybe I should buy one of those portable heaters" He chuckled as he then laid down alongside them, curling up against them protectively and napping himself.

Smiling, you gently walked away leaving them all be, by god that was the most adorable sight in the whole galaxy. But regardless, like you promised you would help rocket with taking care of them, no matter what the situation ensues.

Taglist: @callofdudes @fun-k-board

[luxurychristmaspudding]

frankie & bug's whisky night playlist | On Call

summary: he's fixed the sink! time to party!

read mi amigo here <3

an: i had the biggest fucking grin on my face putting this together. thank you all so much <3

sir duke - stevie wonder (from @pedroacrossthestreet)

more than a feeling - boston (from @jolapeno & @morallyinept)

second hands news - fleetwood mac (from @readingiskeepingmegoing)

gold dust woman - fleetwood mac (from @readingiskeepingmegoing)

cryin’ - aerosmith (from @readingiskeepingmegoing and @yopossum)

crazy - aerosmith (from @readingiskeepingmegoing)

dial drunk - noah kahan (from @schnarfer)

tainted love - soft cell (from @tonysopranosrobe)

get lucky - daft punk (from @tonysopranosrobe)

shiny happy people - r.e.m. (from @tonysopranosrobe)

modern love - david bowie (from @tonysopranosrobe)

love will tear us apart - joy division (from @tonysopranosrobe)

don’t stop til you get enough - michael jackson (from @tonysopranosrobe)

angel of small death and the codeine scene - hozier (from @ak-vintage)

jackie and wilson - hozier (from @ak-vintage)

you make loving fun - fleetwood mac (from @thundermartini and @schnarfer and @copperhalfcent)

dancing in the dark - bruce springsteen (@schnarfer)

let’s dance - david bowie (from @pedroacrossthestreet)

faithfully - journey (from @millersamour)

burnin’ for you - blue öyster cult (from @millersamour)

stella - incubus (from @secretelephanttattoo)

a kiss to send us off - incubus (from @secretelephanttattoo)

drive - incubus (from @sin-djarin)

are you in? - incubus (from @sin-djarin)

homesick - noah kahan (from @schnarfer)

gypsy - fleetwood mac (from @schnarfer)

rhiannon - fleetwood mac (from @schnarfer)

don’t stop - fleetwood mac (from @schnarfer)

more than words - extreme (from @copperhalfcent)

songbird - fleetwood mac (from @copperhalfcent)

love’s unkind - donna summer (from @copperhalfcent)

sabor a mí - luis miguel (from @itsokbbygrl)

la bamba - ritchie valens (from @itsokbbygrl)

can't fight this feeling - reo speedwagon (from @morallyinept)

two sleepy people - fats waller (from @toomanytookas)

beyond the sea - bobby darin (from @toomanytookas)

here i go again - whitesnake (from @yopossum)

alone - heart (from @yopossum)

pour some sugar on me - def leppard (from @yopossum)

livin' on a prayer - bon jovi (from @yopossum)

i want to break free - queen (from @pedroacrossthestreet)

crocodile rock - elton john (from @pedroacrossthestreet)

groove is in the heart - deee-lite (from @pedroacrossthestreet)

man in the wilderness - styx (from @copperhalfcent)

general picks

foreigner, journey, separate ways from @kammerstx

queen from @sawymredfox

earth wind and fire, marvin gaye, stevie wonder, sly and the family stone, bill withers, gladys knight, diana ross, aretha franklin, bob seger, neil young, blue öyster cult, tom petty from @yopossum (you had absolutely unreal picks and have outrageously good taste. we should go dancing together)

sinatra and some tejano (yes!) from @toomanytookas

lil bit of lana from @itsokbbygrl

the cure and arctic monkeys from @emeraldmoth

abba and more queen from @syd-djarin

pet shop boys from @tonysopranosrobe

fleetwood mac from @kammerstx @yopossum @thundermartini @schnarfer and pretty much everyone else who commented. and i can only say - you are so unbelievably right.

my picks (if you wanna know!)

i feel for you - chaka khan

play that funky music - wild cherry

let's groove - earth, wind & fire

candy - cameo

thunderstruck - ac/dc

money for nothing - dire straits

walk of life - dire straits

[thetarotwitch111]

This message was meant to find you! - Pick a card crystal

✨Enjoyed the reading? A tip would be a sweet way to help me keep these free insights coming. Thanks so much for your support!

✨This was a channeled messages from my guides.

✨I hope this reading brings you some clarity and guidance. If it resonated with you, I’d love to hear about it!

✨And if you’re looking for something more personal, I also do individual readings—just DM me anytime.

✨TIPS✨

1. Citrine

Why don’t you go out and live a little? I’m not talking about parties or commitments. I’m talking about feeling the wind in your hair, the sun on your skin, and the air through your lungs. This automatic life you’re living is making you miss the present moment and embrace an anxiety that’s not even yours.

Connect with yourself again, do things for yourself and no one else. Helping others is great, spiritual work is great, and making money too, but when you leave this earth, the only thing that remains is you. And don’t be afraid to try and fail. Just go for it and see where this leads you. Make your life worth the flashback.

playlist:

pocketfull of sunshine - natasha bendingfield

step out - josé gonzales

how far i’ll go - moana

sleep on the floor - the lumineers

heroes - david bowie

alright- supergrass

movie:

The Secret Life of Walter Mitty

Specific message for a small percentage: Call your grandparents. They’re waiting for that call you promised.

—————————————

2. Ametyst

Please be calm right now. It’s not an easy phase, and some news and situations came out of the blue. But you’re going to get through this. You’re being prepared for better moments, but some changes needed to happen for you to step out of your comfort zone. Take your time to process all that, but don’t lose yourself in grief and isolation. You’ve got what it takes to overcome this situation, so ask your guides for the support you need and keep swimming! Also, the people you worry so much about need to learn how to swim by themselves too. Everything is in the right place, even if it doesn’t seem like it.

playlist:

the show must go on - queen

you got it - vedo

breathin - ariana grande

the climb - miley cyrus

who you are - jessie j

wolves and the ravens - rogue valley

movie:

Finding nemo

Specific message for a small percentage: If you’re planning on getting a pet or two, this is your sign to just do it. It will be so good for you in this process.

————————————-

3. Rose quartz

When did you convince yourself that you’re not loved, don’t matter, or don’t deserve the best?

We have the power to make things we focus and believe in reality, but this can be a trap if your thoughts are so full of self-sabotage. Stop nurturing this bs, cause people care about you, and you should care more about yourself too. Your guides are desperate for you to ask for help and put your head up. Therapy will be super beneficial right now, but with that, try to remember the kid you were, what you really liked, who you are besides people’s opinions, and ask yourself how you really want to live your life. You are reproducing toxic traits to yourself that aren’t even yours.

You deserve love, you will find your people, but first, find and love yourself.

playlist

the middle - jimmy eat world

queen - jessie j

rise up - andra day

help is round the corner - coldplay

young folks - peter bjorn and john

come and get your love - redbone

movies:

The Greatest Showman

Eat Pray Love

Specific message for a small percentage: That idea of business of yours (for some specific group a coffee or beverage business) could go well, but in a different way. Maybe you could start by creating online content to see where this goes. A bookstore is also something you should think about, but in a fresher and edgier way.

[plathfiles]

lead singer!remus never being one to be public with his emotions but writing the sappiest love song for reader and the fans just go wild!!! everyone just assumes it was james or sirius that wrote it (let's be honest james probably wrote 10000 ballads for lily) until one show remus is just all 'this is one i wrote for my girl' 🥺🥺🥺

GAH 😩 YES OMG OMG !!!

thank you for this love <3

hope you enjoy !!

The Marauders set up their instruments and sound hours ago, practicing as much as they could before their performance. The band had started receiving gigs in pubs and at parties. Already having a few original songs under their belt, they were receiving more attention from local venues.

You had been introduced to the band from a dear friend. Marlene McKinnon was friends with the band and the guitarist’s girlfriend — Lily Evans. Everyone was going to be there tonight. The pub already filling up with university students and local residents from the community. You were in a booth at the front of the venue, squashed between Marlene and Lily.

“I wonder how many love ballads there will be tonight?” Marlene asked, turning to Lily and giving her a smirk.

Lily playfully rolled her eyes. “James doesn’t write that many,” she protested. Although she had to admit, the boy had written a few love ballads similar to those of the 1980s.

You took a sip of your drink and looked at you friends. “I wonder if Remus has written anything?” She asked.

Remus was a very private writer. He would write with Sirius or the rest of the band. You wouldn’t be opposed to having a song about you. But Remus didn’t seem like the type either. Especially with James’ obnoxious guitar skills and clearly Lily inspired lyrics.

As the room got more crowed and the 9 o’clock showtime reared it’s head, the band stepped out onto stage.

Remus was the first to come out. He was wearing an argyle sweatshirt and corduroy pants. It was his signature look and you thought it was very attractive. His guitar was around his chest. It’s bright cherry red color glistening in the light. Sirius was the second to pop out from behind the curtain, drum sticks in hand. James stepped out, almost tripping on a cord. He was usually very clumsy. His glasses were crooked, per usual and his vintage yellow electric guitar was strapped onto him. Peter was the last to get on stage, his glittering blue bass in his arms.

The band did a couple last minute checks, before Remus grabbed the microphone and looked into the crowd.

“Hello everyone. I’m Remus Lupin if you didn’t already know,” he smiled and the crowd cheered. “To my left is James Potter on electric guitar, to my right is Peter Pettigrew on bass. And lastly, on the platform behind me is Sirius Black on drums,” he introduced. With each name the crowd went wild!

Remus looked down at you and gave you a smirk and wink. You felt your cheeks redden and butterflies erupted in your stomach.

“We have a newly written song for you tonight!” Remus said. “This is a love song!”

The crowd cheered before he could finish the introduction.

“Awe here we go again Lils, another one about you,” Marlene joked. You laughed under your breath as Lily took a drink of her beer.

But Remus continued and said something that surprised you.

“I wrote this one,” he blushed, then looking at you. “This is one I wrote for my girl.”

The band began to play the opening notes of the rock n roll song. As he was singing, he was only looking at you. Lily and Marlene cheered along with the crowd. You were stunned to silence, a permanent blush coding you cheeks.

For three minutes Remus and the rest of the band performed a song of Remus’ creation. All about the beauty and wonder that was you.

The rest of the performance went beautifully. With some of their usual set and a couple Bowie covers, they seemed to be over before you knew it.

After the performance you, Lily and Marlene went to meet the band out back to help them pack up their stuff. Once Remus spotted you, he dropped the cigarette he was smoking. He walked to you and pulled you close to him.

“Did ya like the song, love?” he asked you.

You nodded, “I did. I was surprised you wrote a love song about me?”

Remus pulled you in closer. “I meant every word I wrote. And I’d write you a million love songs, now that I have you in my arms,” he replied.

Overhearing the two of you, Sirius groaned, putting some parts of his drum set into the van. “Ugh great! You’re going to make him as bad as James,” he said, looking towards you.

Remus and you laughed, then the brown haired boy pulled you into a sweet kiss. “I’m glad you liked the song. I can’t wait to write you another.” He held you close to him, kissing your forehead.

𝑎／𝑛 ： I hope you enjoyed this. Please do not forget to reblog and like! If you’d like to request anything please send me a message through my inbox. Also my dms are open anytime if anyone just wants to chat <3

[star-wrote]

ANYFING WITH FLUFFY MUEPHY MACMANUS PLES PLES PLES PLES LMAOOO

Mo Stór

ao3 link

Characters: Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

A/N: loving the energy in this request, anon. if you had a tail, it would be wagging LMAO. i’m sorry this took AGES, but i hope you enjoy anyway! <3

Warnings: cussing, bad irish accent writing, fluff, domestic bliss, seriously it’s so fluffy

Word Count: 817

Dating Murphy MacManus isn’t the easiest thing in the world. In fact, if you were to ask his brother, he’d say something along the lines of “Dunno how ya put up with us being vigilantes and shit, lass.”

You and Murphy have had countless talks about him and his brother’s “hobby,” half of them ending in you begging to join him. He would never let you, it’s too dangerous.

So you work your job to support yourself and the boys. You don’t mind it really, they treat you like their queen. Usually, they’re home when you get off work. Walking in to a warm dinner, even if it was a frozen pizza, was a feeling you wish for every good person on earth.

Other nights, like tonight, the brothers wouldn’t be home. You couldn’t help the feeling of anxiety that went to that pit in your stomach. You rush to the note on the refrigerator, ripping it from the magnet that also held up a picture of you and Murphy kissing. Both the picture and the magnet fell off the fridge as you read the note.

“Went to grab Chinese takeaway for dinner. Be back soon x.”

You sighed in relief as you read Murphy’s chicken scratch handwriting. You remembered the magnet and picture that fell, and quickly retrieved them off of the floor. You smiled as you pinned the picture back to the fridge and silently thanked Connor for capturing that moment on camera.

It had been a long night at McGinty’s, and Doc had kept the rounds coming. You had somehow convinced Murphy to dance with you; it must have been the David Bowie song playing. At the end of the song, he dipped you down like you were in some kind of romance movie, and gave you one of many kisses that you two have shared in that bar. Once he heard the click of the camera, he gently dropped you to the floor and shoved his brother, trying to grab the camera. You laughed on the bar floor as he successfully got the camera and pocketed it. He must not have been too upset about the picture since he printed it out the next day.

You heard the door open while you were reminiscing, interrupted by the familiar sound of the twins bickering; this time about chopsticks.

Connor calls your name as he shuts the door. “Are ya gonna use chopsticks?”

You smile as Murphy rolls his eyes and sets the food down on the table. He makes his way over to you and kisses your cheek.

“Yeah, of course,” you answer Connor, “are you?”

He pulls two wrapped pairs of chopsticks out of his pocket and hands you one. “Of course! Murph here wouldn’t let me grab three because he doesn’t know how to use them.”

You look at Murphy who rolls his eyes again as he grabs your hips to slide past you and take a fork from the drawers. He grumbles out “I’m fuckin’ Irish, don’t need to know how, eejit.”

You giggle as you hug him from behind. “I’m pretty sure the Irish didn’t invent the fork either, Murphy.”

He tried to frown, but one side of his mouth lifted. “Are we gonna eat this shite or not?”

After dinner and the nightly movie, you and Murphy retired to your shared bedroom. You were glad that the movie finished because it was Connor’s night to pick, and he picked the worst possible movie on earth, as usual.

You had both changed into your sleep clothes, and brushed your teeth together, smiling at each other in the mirror.

This was your favorite part of the day. You and Murphy got to cuddle in bed and just look at each other. His hand was on your cheek and his thumb was smoothing out your skin.

“Mo stór.” Murphy interrupts the silence.

You smile at him. “What’s that?”

“My darling.”

You kiss his forehead. “Yeah, I am.”

He smiles and kisses your lips gently.

You rest your forehead on his. “For a second I thought you were asking me to marry you or something.”

Without hesitation, he answers, “I would.”

You bring your head up from the pillow and lift your eyebrows in surprise at him.

He notices the shock on your face and scrambles to say something else. “I mean I don’t have a ring for you or anything. But I would get one. I just know that God sent you to me. I may be a saint, but you’re an angel, lass.”

He grabs your hand and kisses the top of it.

“It seems like it would be a pretty divine marriage if you ask me.”

You feel a tear fall from your eye. “Oh my god.”

He smirks as he wipes the tear from your face and chides, “Lord’s name, love.”

You giggle and then nod.

“Let’s do it.”

[crepesuzette2023]

Your top 5 favorite Mclennon quotes?

Hi Anon, thank you for asking! The following aren't quotes I'd construct into any kind of 'proof' (whether I'm into this or not is another set of footnotes, which I'll spare you), but quotes that illustrate that John and Paul's relationship was fascinating and intense, and puzzling to themselves and others (incl. yours truly). 1.) “Meeting Paul was just like two people meeting. Not falling in love or anything. Just us. It went on. It worked.” — John Lennon - The Beatles by Hunter Davies

2.) “Lennon had attitude, and, taking his lead from Lennon, McCartney could be similar. At times, they reminded me of those well-to-do Chicago lads Leopold and Loeb, who killed someone because they felt superior to him. Lennon and McCartney were ‘superior human beings’.” — Bob Wooler in Mark Lewisohn’s Tune In

3.) “John and Paul paired off - only to find themselves stuck together for life. For John, Paul was the boy who came to stay; for Paul, John was the song he couldn’t make better” — Rob Sheffield, Dreaming The Beatles

4.) TELL ME WHO HE IS. Early song by Paul McCartney, included in The Lyrics (2021). Written in the late 50’s/early 60’s, according to the caption. (photo of journal page)

Tell me who he is Tell me that you’re mine not his He says he loves you more than I do Tell me who he is

Tell him where to go Tell him that I love you so He couldn’t love you more than I do Tell me who he is

5.) John Lennon's word association list from 1976 New York: great Elvis: fat Ringo: friend Yoko: love Howard Cosell: hum George: lost Bootlegs: good Elton: nice Paul: extraordinary Bowie: thin MBE: shit John: great

BONUS TRACK: “I had signs that the group was gonna break up, because… I mean, I think really what it was, really all that happened was that John fell in love. With Yoko. And so, with such a powerful alliance like that, it was difficult for him to still be seeing me. It was as if I was another girlfriend, almost. Our relationship was a strong relationship. And if he was to start a new relationship, he had to put this other one away."— Paul McCartney (1985), link to interview here

PLAY IT BACKWARDS: "LONDON (AP) — John Lennon wrote vitriolic comments about fellow-Beatle Paul McCartney in a picture biography of the famed pop group, providing new evidence of the tensions between them, the Observer newspaper said Sunday. [...]

"Lennon marked almost every one of the 76 pages with corrections and comments, including one that the Observer took as an indication the group already was experimenting with drugs in the 1960s. [...]

"In an entry noting McCartney’s marriage to Linda Eastman, Lennon crossed out “wedding” and wrote “funeral”, the Observer said. [...]

"But in a final tender moment, the Observer said, Lennon wrote under a photo of himself with McCartney: “The minutes are crumbling away.” (full article.)

[lizziela]

Instagram AU - Aaron Hotchner - Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

y/n_l/n

y/n_l/n: we were looking for Jackers birthday present, and we found ourselves as hotwheels!!

ladypen_garcia: that's just so sweet!! did you get these? tell me you did!!

y/n_l/n: @/ladypen_garcia we did! and we looked for one spider-man themed, we didn't found. but we did in the spider-man's colors, now Jackers also has one for him and we are a family of hotwheels!

ladypen_garcia: @/y/n_l/n that's perfect!

aarhotchner: and she kept telling me that hers should have more glitter

y/n_l/n: @/aarhotchner hon, you know I'm right!

aarhotchner

aarhotchner: @/y/n_l/n Jack has a surprise for you when you get back home! He saw those flowers on his way from school and said they looked beautiful like you!

y/n_l/n: like father, like son!! I can't wait to get home soon!!

ladypen_garcia: I think I will explode with Jack's cuteness!!

aarhotchner: @/ladypen_garcia please, do not explode!

derekm: @/aarhotchner did boss man made a joke?

em_prent: @/derekm yes, he did, lol!

y/n_l/n

y/n_l/n: I think I am engaged?!!

aarhotchner: honey, you won't think with the real one, you will know!

ladypen_garcia: OH GOD THAT'S AWESOME!! Can't wait for the real one!!!!

y/n_l/n: @/ladypen_garcia me neither, Pen!! I want to be a married women so bad!!

rossidave: 👀

aarhotchner

aarhotchner: a little midafternoon date between cases

y/n_l/n: I really love you, you know that right?

aarhotchner: @/y/n_l/n I know honey, I know!

jjjareau: and thank God that date wasn't interrupted!

y/n_l/n: @/jjjareau thank you my beautiful JJ!!

y/n_l/n

y/n_l/n: Bowie misses his dad!

aarhotchner: And I miss Bowie!

ladypen_garcia: He's growing so fast!!!

y/n_l/n: @/ladypen_garcia I know!!

em_prent: Boss man as a pet parent, who would have thought?

aarhotchner: @/em_prent 🤨

After a long time, I'm back! I'm sorry, but Uni's kicking my ass lately! (I just want this semester to end)

I hope you enjoy it!

As always: the images are from Pinterest

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