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olivetreehugger · 2 months

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IT’S HERE!!!!! Finally, goddamn this chapter took me forever to finish. I can’t tell you how many times I scrapped it and rewrote the dang thing. But it’s here, and that’s what matters.

above is a very cute screen grab of the character I’ve adopted and named Nani, who is the main character of this story. She’s so darn cute!!!! Would she not just be perfect for Bolin? I think so! Anyway, please see below for chapter two of Dispatches From Republic City!

Chapter Two: Reputation

It was early morning when Nani entered the Tea Market, her stomach growling impatiently for breakfast.

Located near the Four Nation’s Hall, the Tea Market was an outdoor bazaar/hodgepodge of food and beverage vendors. They offered everything from typical comfort meals to rare finds like pickled narwhal and sea prune paste (Water Tribe), thousand-year eggs and fish stew (Earth Nation) and boiled silkworms (Fire Nation). The Market saw a wide range of customers; everyone from important businessmen and politicians to triad members and hobos crossed its threshold.

It was rare that Nani had free time to visit, but ever since she was fired from Mama Chen’s, she found herself coming here more often. And after having such a restless night, she was both tired and ravenous.

The delectable scent of fried duck and congee tickled her senses from a few stalls away. Nani inhaled deeply and sighed, her eyes closing with a sad nostalgia. That particular meal brought back happier memories of her childhood, when she had a roof over her head and people who cared for her.

For a moment, she wondered what life would have been like had she stayed. Maybe she wouldn’t be starving now, standing in the middle of the Tea Market with two yuans to her name, with the image of Nuktuk begging for money on the street the only thing keeping her going.

Nani opened her eyes. That familiar feeling of failure began rising in her chest, hot and prickly, but as it reached her throat, she swallowed it back down and shoved it back where it couldn’t see the light of day. There, she mentally turned the locks and ignored its pounding on the door, pretending it was never there.

Gripping her purse, the brunette made her way to the stall. She placed her order and the vendor turned to the iron pot where the meat was being fried. As she waited, Nani turned her head to look at the surrounding stalls. Almost immediately, she saw something that made her do a double take.

Two men were walking in her direction. They were speaking to each other. It didn’t take her long to recognize them both.

One was dressed in a policeman’s uniform, black hair tidy and combed to the side, hands in his pockets. The detective from last night, she realized.

It took her a second longer to recognize the second man. He was just a bit shorter, dressed in a relaxed suit, his hair styled with gel. He was much more animated than his counterpart, arms emoting furiously as he talked.

“Something something, Mako, something something something!”

Nani’s eyes flew open as her mind flashed back a few years. Mako…as in…Mako and Bolin? The Fire Ferrets…the Bending Brothers—THAT Mako and Bolin? Oh, shit.

The pair drew closer as Nani awkwardly turned back to the vendor. She handed one yuan over in exchange for her meal. The heat of the cardboard holding the congee emanated through her fingertips and into her blood stream, warming her from the inside out.

It would’ve been nice to simply focus on the delicious food in her hands, but her mind was concentrated on the pair walking behind her.

“Are you sure about this, Bo?” The detective, Mako, asked. He sounded concerned.

“Yes, I’m sure!” His counterpart expressed. “This is gonna be huge for my career!”

Nani’s ears perked up with curiosity. She listened for their footsteps to clear and turned her head, watching their frames disappear into the crowd.

Not wanting to lose them, the brunette lunged forward, skittering across the dirty street to catch up. She held her food close to her chest, trying not to spill it all over herself as she moved. Eventually, she was close enough to eavesdrop, but hopefully far away enough to remain hidden.

“I’m not questioning your interviewing skills, bro,” Mako retorted. “But this sounds like a big deal--.”

Bolin grabbed his brother’s shoulder and exclaimed, “Uh, yeah! This is a big deal; it’s Cherry Wong!”

Nani’s hands suddenly went weak and her food slipped from her hands. Thankfully, she righted herself and caught the cardboard receptacle before a single morsel could be lost.

Did…he just say Cherry Wong?

“Exactly! This is the real deal. She’s coming out of retirement, so they’ll want some juicy information and dialogue,” Mako stated matter-of-factly. “Not some funny sound effects and jokes!”

A gasp of disbelief left Bolin’s mouth. “How dare you say that?! I am a reporter for the people and by the people! And guess what? I’ve already got a list of questions I’m gonna ask her.”

The older sibling was quiet for a moment before a defeated sigh left his lips. “Bolin, you’re not gonna ask her if she can touch her nose with her tongue, are you?”

An embarrassed scoff, “Tssshhht, no! Of course not….unless, no, no. Heh, definitely not.”

More silence, and Nani felt the secondhand embarrassment seep into her bones as Bolin’s shoulders sagged in defeat.

The earth bender muttered, “Okay fine, I’ll cross that off my list.”

Mako patted Bolin’s back and replied, “Look, the key to any good interview is good research. I do my homework before I interview a perp, and it helps me stay on track. I suggest you do the same.”

“Huh,” Bolin responded. “I guess that’s a pretty good idea. Although touching your nose with your tongue is also pretty dang impressive, I guess it would be helpful to know more about her as a person. Well…I’ve got a few months to figure it out!”

Mediocre and stupid…Shiro really knows how to pick ’em, Nani mused.

The brunette watched the brothers walk out of the market in disbelief. Her heart was doing somersaults in her chest and her nerves felt like they were buzzing.

When Nani was barely hitting puberty, Cherry Wong announced her sudden retirement on air, citing a severe chronic illness as the reason.

The world was not prepared for this unexpected departure, and Nani, her number one fan, was crushed. She used to pray for Miss Wong’s return, begging the spirits to listen. Maybe after all these years, they finally heard her.

With a smile on her face, Nani turned back to the market and scooped some congee into her mouth. The savory porridge combined with the fatty duck, spicy peppers and scallions instantly took her back. There she was, tucked between the other kids, the radio humming with Miss Wong’s velvety voice as she serenaded them to sleep like a surrogate mother.

The memory made her eyes burn, but she told herself it was the peppers. The news of Cherry Wong coming back to Republic City was incredibly stimulating, but knowing that Mr. Hot-Shot-Radio-Host would get an opportunity to not only meet her, but interview her….well, Nani couldn’t blame the hot feeling in her face on the peppers anymore.

Hastily, she finished her meal and wiped her mouth on her sleeve. She looked over at the horizon, where the antennas of the radio station were just barely visible.

A few months, huh? She mused internally, a grin forming on her face. I better start preparing.

___000___

The clouds had made their departure from the bright blue sky as Nani paced behind the radio station. She’d been practicing her introduction for several minutes now, and was growing frustrated.

Now, Nani was a damn good liar. It was a skill sharpened by years of living off the street, deceiving and swindling for a loaf of bread or a place to sleep. It was just something she had to do to survive—this was no different.

That audition could have transformed her life if she had been give the chance, but Bolin took that away from her so he could tell cheesy jokes into a microphone. He already had everything he needed in life. Why couldn’t he just go back to pro-bending? Why couldn’t he continue starring in those stupid movers? What did he get from this?

Prior to this morning, Nani didn’t plan on doing anything drastic. She figured she’d “bump” into him outside the station, pluck his wallet in the confusion, and go about her day. It would’ve ruined his week, but it wouldn’t have caused any significant damage to either of their lives.

But it was deeply personal now. Bolin was going to work with her all time hero, and he was likely going to fuck it up. He didn’t need her help to do so, that’s for sure. However, this was likely her only opportunity to meet the woman she’d looked up to her whole life, and she wasn’t going to pass it up.

If she could only figure out a convincing cover story to get her inside.

“Hello, my name is Tanana, I work with the Tribune—” No…

“Hi, I’m Tanana, I’m president of the Cherry Wong fan club—” No, no, coming off too strong…

“My name’s Tanana, I just finished secretary school—” Who are you trying to fool? You can’t even type!

She groaned in defeat, leaning her head against the brick wall next to her.

“Fuck….I can’t believe this is my life,” she murmured to herself.

“You said it, sweets,” a female voice replied dryly.

Startled, Nani twisted her head back to see a woman standing outside the back door.

She was beautiful, her bronze complexion complimented by her piercing blue eyes and long, wavy black hair. She wore feather earrings and a long lilac coat. Between her two fingers was a lit cigarette, its end burning a deep rust color.

Nani blanched. How long had she been standing there?

The stranger took a drag and laughed, the air whistling through the gap between her front teeth.

“I know that feeling. You look like you could use a smoke,” the woman said, offering Nani the cigarette.

The brunette took it cautiously. She hadn’t smoked one of these in ages.

She took a puff and coughed a couple of times. The familiar nicotine buzz came over her quickly, and she felt her nerves start to calm.

She coughed again and gave it back. “Thanks,” she said.

“Don’t mention it,” the woman replied. “’Name’s Koko! Nice to meetcha.”

Nani shook Koko’s hand. “I’m Tanana. You can call me Nani, though.”

Blue eyes widened with excitement.

“Oooh, so you’re a Water Tribe gal, too? Shoulda known, you’re way too pretty to be anything else.”

Nani frowned, responding curtly, “No, I’m from the city. Born and raised.”

Koko pursed her lips and shrugged. Blowing out a final cloud of smoke, she flicked the cigarette onto the ground and crushed it with her foot.

“If you say so, sweetie,” she responded. “So, what do you do? Oh, wait, let me guess: reporter, president of the Cherry Wong Fan Club, and a secretary? That’s an impressive resume.”

Nani’s cheeks bloomed with red heat. “So, you heard all that, huh?” She asked, wishing she could crawl into a dumpster and die.

A windchime-like laugh left Koko’s mouth, exposing a silver capped tooth. “I stepped out for a smoke and I heard ya rambling like a hobo on dope—figured I’d stick around and make sure you were okay,” she admitted.

Nani cleared her throat. “I take it you work here?” She pointed behind Koko to the station.

“You betcha,” the blue-eyed woman replied. “And I take it you want a job here?”

Her stomach nearly leapt into her chest as Nani responded, “You could say that.”

Koko looked her up and down, sighing, “A word of advice, sweets: if you wanna get a job, especially at a joint like this, you’re gonna need to look a little more put together. You’re also gonna need some experience in the entertainment industry; and something tells me you ain’t got it.”

Nani looked at the ground in shame. Koko was right; she hadn’t bathed in a few days, her hair felt like a rat’s nest, her face was bare and swollen from lack of sleep, her oversized wool dress was stolen from a neglected clothing line near by….she definitely did not look “put-together”.

But.

“I have experience,” she argued. “I used to sing in clubs.”

“Used to, ‘eh?” Koko asked, raising a thin eyebrow at her. “Let me guess, your pimp tried to share you with his partners so you made a break for it?”

Nani’s hand instinctively flew to her hair as she tugged and twirled at it. Tahno didn’t exactly like sharing his toys. And he also didn’t like it when his toys got more attention than he did.

“Not exactly,” she muttered.

Koko looked her up and down again, this time her expression softening. She took a few steps towards Nani, reaching for her but not quite touching her.

“My mom fell on hard times, too. I know it’s rough,” she started.

Nani frowned and looked away. She didn’t want pity, she wanted a job….but it felt nice to be seen.

Koko offered her a smile. “Tell you what; we’ve been looking for a backup singer to help jingles and stuff. I sing on ‘em too, so you wouldn’t be alone. If you can impress Shiro, he’ll hire you for commission. Whaddya think?”

Relieved, the brunette replied, “That sounds great, thank you.”

“Ah ah ah,” Koko responded, blocking the door. “Before we continue, you gotta show me what you got. No offense, but I’m not just bringing any broad in front of Shiro.”

Nani nodded, her heart suddenly thumping in her chest. Thankfully, she wasn't being held against her will in a brothel. She parted her lips and began singing one of her favorites,

“My man walked out, now you know that ain’t right,

Well, he better watch out, if I meet him tonight,

I said when I get low,

Ohhhh, I get hiiiigh,

All this hard luck in this town has found me,

Nobody knows ‘bout troubles all ‘round and ‘round me,

Oh, I’m all alone, with no one to pet me,

That old rocking chair ain’t never gonna get me,

‘Cause when I get low,

Ohhhh, I get hiiiigh,”

Her voice was a little nasally and raspy at first, but she quickly fell into her own rhythm, her voice growing more powerful with each verse. She finished on a high note, belting the last “high” with her whole chest.

Nani finished with a smile, looking nervously at Koko for some sort of response. She worried that she might’ve gone a bit overboard. Fortunately, the look on Koko’s face said quite the opposite.

___000___

Slender brown hands wrapped the satin scarf around Nani’s head and tucked in her stray curls.

“There, that oughta do it!” Koko exclaimed, turning the brunette towards the mirror.

Nani stared at her reflection, impressed by what Koko had done using only a bar of soap, a charcoal pencil, some rouge and a borrowed scarf.

She touched her face and smiled, feeling refreshed. She looked up at Koko’s reflection and said, “Thanks, I owe you.”

Waving a hand, the blue-eyed woman replied, “Don’t worry about it, sweets. C’mon, let’s go find Shiro.”

Nani followed Koko through the station as she gave her a glorified tour of the space. She hummed as she looked around. People, machines, papers, and noise filled the air. It was much busier than the last time she was here. She didn’t realize it took so many people to run a place like this.

“So…is your job singing?” She asked.

Koko shook her head, “Well, not really. I’ve written and recorded a few jingles for the show, but that’s a side gig. My real job is broadcasting—I work directly with the producers and talent to make sure everything goes smoothly before, during and after the show. I basically run this joint.”

Nani nodded in understanding. She wondered if she knew about the Cherry Wong situation.

The blue-eyed woman gestured for Nani to follow her upstairs, chatting vibrantly the whole time. Nani listened whole-heartedly, amused by Koko’s knowledge of office gossip. It was also kind of nice to experience real, personal interaction that went beyond the usual unpleasantries exchanged at her old job.

Also, Koko was pretty funny. The Water Tribe native had explained all the segments and shows they put on, what time slots they had, and how interesting they were on a scale of “yawnsville” to “better than sex”.

Apparently, she also worked on ‘Dispatches from Republic City’, which she had dubbed, “Almost as good as sex.”

With the mention of her self-proclaimed nemesis, Nani inhaled sharply.

“What’s it like working with Bolin, anyway?” She asked, expecting her to complain about how dim-witted and selfish he was.

Except, she didn’t. Koko came to a door that read “STUDIO” and swung it open. Smirking, she said, “See for yourself.”

Amplifiers, speakers, soundboards and monitoring panels lined the walls. The sound of rolling tapes clicked in the background. A man sat at a desk with a microphone and a panel of buttons and switches in front of him.

He clicked a bright red button on the base of the microphone. “That was perfect, Bolin. Let’s take a quick ten and then all we’ve got are the sign offs,” he said.

“Sounds good!” An amplified voice responded from the speakers.

The man at the desk got up, nodding at the women as he left. Seconds later, the recording room door opened and a young man stepped out.

Whatever “it” was that celebrities had, whatever made them so magnetic, Bolin certainly had it. Seeing him out in the market was like seeing an old acquaintance you hoped to avoid, but seeing him here? It evoked a starstruck feeling that made Nani’s insides stir when their eyes met.

His smile was charming, charismatic even. His eyes, lush and green, never once left her face.

“Hey, Koko!” The man came closer, acknowledging them with a wave. “Who’s your friend?”

Looping her arm into the brunette’s, Koko replied, “This is Tanana! She goes by Nani!”

The earthbender’s smile widened. “I’m Bolin!” He stated, extending his hand.

Nani glared at it for a moment, then looked up at him.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she greeted, her tone frosty. She allowed the handshake, but didn’t like how it summoned butterflies in her core.

Koko added, “She’s here to audition for the backup spot!”

Bolin’s eyes widened, “Wow! So, you’re a singer, huh?”

Nani felt her cheeks warm up, “Well, sort of.”

“Oh, don’t be shy!” Koko exclaimed, elbowing the brunette in the stomach. “She’s a singer alright! And a pretty damn good one!”

The earth bender walked over to the console table near the door and picked up a small white box. He popped it open, revealing several moon cakes decorated with different glazes and syrups.

“I brought these for the studio. Take one, as a token of good luck,” he said.

Nani eyed the moon cakes keenly. The duck and congee from this morning had already made its way out of her stomach, leaving a familiar emptiness.

“Thanks, but I’m not hungry,” she stated firmly, unwilling to compromise.

Her stomach growled viciously in protest, betraying her.

Bolin chuckled, “Well, it sounds like you are. Just take one!”

Koko quickly jutted between them and clasped her hands together. “Oh, thanks Bo Bo! You know I love these!” She squealed.

Nani watched the girl pluck two cakes from the box. As she proceeded to take several bites from each one, Bolin yanked the box away from her.

“Hey! Don’t be greedy! Nani hasn’t had one yet!” He chided.

“C’mon,” Bolin turned back to her, holding out the box. “Pick your favorite!”

Between her stomach exuding whale mating calls and Koko’s ecstatic chewing noises, Nani caved in and reached for a small yellow cake that was drizzled with raspberry syrup. She brought it to her lips and took a careful bite.

Sugary sweet goodness danced across her tastebuds.

“Wow,” was all she said, running her tongue over her lower lip to catch a stray dab of syrup. She popped the rest of the pastry into her mouth unceremoniously.

“Super good, right? I got them from this new bakery called ‘Oolong’ on Main Street,” the earthbender rambled. “They were so busy! The line stretched out the door and all the way round the corner, but it was worth it!”

Koko sighed, “Good ‘ol Bolin, always feedin’ us. What would we do without ya?”

Bolin smiled again, winking at Nani. “Hey, can’t leave my friends hanging! Today’s a long recording day—we gotta get through it somehow.”

It was that “it” factor again. Normally, the brunette was good at picking up on subtleties, so she was annoyed with herself for finding him so pleasant when just hours ago he was rambling like a senseless baboon. She glared at him. How were they even the same person?

His face was still round and youthful, but there was a sharpness to his features that she didn’t remember being there before. And yet, his expression retained a boyish charm.

He’s too good, she thought. How does he do that?

Bolin was also taller than she remembered, though she’d only ever seen him huddled in a booth at Narook’s. She was a little surprised to have to look up at him.

Even his build was robust, his muscular shoulders, arms and chest making their presence well known under his clothes. He personified his element well, and Nani figured if she tried to punch him it would feel like punching a brick wall.

Not that she wanted to punch him (ok maybe a little).

“Hey,” Bolin said, tilting his head sideways like a polar bear dog. “I know this might sound weird, but I feel like we’ve met before.”

Nani glanced at him in surprise. She didn’t expect him to remember her.

She cleared her throat nervously, “It’s a big city, I doubt it.”

Shaking his head vigorously, Bolin retorted, “No, no! I know I’ve seen you around before. Where do you live? Little Water Tribe? Harmony Park?”

“Neither,” she answered. She could feel her underarms growing damp.

Rubbing his chin, Bolin studied her for an agonizing amount of time before sighing, bowing his head in defeat.

“I got nothin’,” he finally said.

Nani exhaled in relief.

“But!” The young man exclaimed, startling her. “You can bet I’m gonna figure it out!!”

“I won’t hold my breath,” Nani scoffed.

Koko licked her fingers loudly. “Have you seen Shiro, by chance?” She asked the earthbender.

Bolin rubbed his chin again, stating, “Hm, you might wanna try his office. He’s been drowning in paperwork since…well, y’know.”

“Gooootcchhaa,” the blue-eyed woman replied, offering him a wink. “Well, we’re gonna go find him, now. See ya, Bo Bo!”

As the women turned to leave, Bolin waved at Nani and hollered, “Good luck!”

Nani didn’t respond.

Walking behind Koko, the brunette asked curiously, “So, what did he mean when he said Shiro’s been drowning in paperwork?”

A look of discomfort crossed over Koko’s face. “Well, it’s not my business to say but….Shiro’s going through some stuff with the missus,” she confessed.

Nani nodded knowingly, but she felt a pit forming in her stomach. If the famous broadcaster was dealing with an irate wife and stress from work, who was to say he would even give her a chance?

Once they approached Shiro’s office, Koko flashed Nani a confident grin before rapping her knuckles against the frame.

“Who is it?” Came a muffled, but familiar voice.

“It’s your favorite Water Tribe gal with a present!” Koko replied in a sing-song tone.

The sound of shuffling came from behind the door before it opened to reveal a rather tired-looking Shiro.

Nani had never actually seen Shiro Shinobi, but she never expected he’d look like this. His eyes were bleary and red, his cheeks were sunken in, and he reeked of cigarette smoke. A five o’clock shadow peppered his lower jaw.

When his gaze settled on Nani, he nodded. “I see. Come in, come in.”

The pair followed Shiro inside. Nani nearly gasped at the state of disarray. Paper cups half full of cold tea, crumpled up newspaper, stray napkins, and broken picture frames of an older woman littered the room.

She felt a twinge of pity for him.

“Shiro,” Koko declared. “This is Tanana. She’s here for the backup position.”

The older man offered her a half-hearted wave and plopped back into his chair. “Hello, Tanana. I take it you can sing, eh?”

Nani looked to Koko for encouragement. The Water Tribe native tilted her head to the side and darted her eyes towards the radio legend.

Taking the cue, Nani cleared her throat and replied with Koko’s pre-planned address , “Yes, sir. I’ve had several years of informal training as a child before I began singing jazz at the clubs. I’ve never been signed or anything, but I believe I can—”

“Alright, alright, you don’t have to tell me your life story, kid. Just show me what you can do,” he responded sardonically.

Although his answer was jarring, Nani decided to let his sourness roll off her skin and took a deep breath.

She flashed him a smile and opened her mouth.

____000____

“Alright people, I’ve got a jasmine, a Ceylon with sugar, one mint, a chai with sheep-cow milk, and two darjeelings,” Nani announced, pushing into the packed conference room for afternoon tea time. She set the serving tray down onto the table.

Bolin hopped up from his chair exuberantly, shouting, “Oh yeah! Nani, you are savin’ my life right now!”

He immediately dove to the tray and grabbed his drink, the Ceylon with sugar.

“Man, I really need this, I’m fading like an antique rug,” he sighed, bringing the cup to his lips.

“Careful, it’s still hot-” Nani warned, but she was too late--Bolin was holding back tears as he struggled to not spit out the scalding liquid.

She ignored him and walked the chai over to where Shiro sat, placing it in front of him with a smile. His tired eyes lit up.

“Thanks, kiddo.”

Shiro blew carefully onto the steaming cup a few times before taking a sip.

He closed his eyes and sighed, “Tanana, you might be the best tea maker I’ve ever met, and I’ve been to the Jasmine Dragon!”

The sound of affirmations and agreements filled the room as everyone eagerly enjoyed their teas.

Nani grinned. She’d been at Studio 54 for three weeks and already she had cemented herself as a necessary part of everyone’s day. Afternoon Team Time was a mandatory occurrence at the station (at Shiro’s behest), so she was tasked with the tea orders.

Originally, she was hired to record jingles for the currently airing shows. Koko warned her that the work would be sparse and dull since she was only a backup, and there were days she may not even be needed. Plus, the pay wouldn’t be all that great.

However, Nani was a resourceful woman. She knew how to make herself indispensable. The first day, she knocked on Shiro’s door and asked if he needed anything. At first, he only waved her away, but she persisted.

Soon, she was tidying up his desk and rearranging his candle collection. After that, she was writing memos and answering phones. Then she took responsibility of Afternoon Tea Time. She made herself Shiro Shinobi’s personal assistant and she took her role seriously.

She would be lying if she said she didn’t scour his office for evidence of this upcoming interview, but she never found anything substantial besides a frayed letter of correspondence between Shiro and Miss Wong’s agent, which didn’t have anything interesting in it that would benefit Nani’s cause. Disappointing was one way to put it, but Nani decided the gig was too good to just give up now. She was sure the topic would come up when the time was right. In any case, Shiro was barely in a state to be talked to right now.

The man was a bit grumpy and pathetic, but he was going through a nasty divorce and still had to run a very popular radio station. Nani couldn’t fault him for an occasional temper tantrum, especially since it was usually targeted at someone else.

The pay was quite a nice incentive, too. She was making eight yuans a day, which was more than she could’ve ever dreamed of. She saved every bit of her money, hoping to eventually find a small apartment so she wouldn’t have to keep sleeping on Koko’s mother’s couch. It was an incredibly kind gesture, but Nani knew from experience that kindness had an expiration date.

Which was why Bolin, of all people, perplexed her.

She didn’t buy his “boy-next-door” routine. A guy like that couldn’t bag a princess, a mover star, and a Beifong in the same lifetime. He was a haughty charmer, and an idiot, too—but he couldn’t possibly be that kind.

Ever since she started working at the studio, Nani took notice of how the earthbender always brought food for his colleagues, went out of his way to help them with tasks, and how patient he was when something didn’t go his way.

Just the other day, Nani accidentally spilled hot tea all over his notes for an upcoming segment.

“Gah!” He’d yelled, jumping back to avoid being burned.

As the ink blurred with the steaming liquid and dripped down the side of the desk, the brunette reflexively dropped to her knees and started cleaning, apologizing profusely. She expected him to strike, to yell, to at least throw something. Y’know, how angry men do.

Weirdly though, he instead got down to her eye level and asked, “Shit, Nani, are you okay?”

Nani nearly went into shock. She immediately stood, stone-faced.

“I’m fine.”

It was because she was Shiro’s personal assistant, of course. He had a reputation to keep, so that had to be why he was always so nice. On the inside, he was just as rotten as the rest of them.

At least, that’s what Nani told herself.

What really bothered her about all of this was how he and Koko interacted. Even now, the pair were chit-chatting and laughing about spirits-know-what during their meeting with Shiro.

Nani stood in the corner of the conference room, serving tray tucked under her arm, with an expression that could sour a lemon.

She couldn’t understand why Koko, someone so sharp and witty, was so chummy with this guy. Of course, Koko was friendly with everyone—sometimes even a bit flirty. But Bolin? Could she not see how fake he was?

Later that night, as the two young woman set the table for dinner, Nani decided to ask.

“What’s with you and Bolin?” She questioned.

The blue-eyed woman folded a napkin and placed it down before looking at her with a confused look. “Whaddya mean?”

Nani pursed her lips. “I mean, why do you hang out with him?”

Koko furrowed her brows together and stared at Nani. “Um, because I like him?”

Crossing her arms over her chest, the brunette scoffed, “You mean to tell me that you think that overgrown toddler is attractive?”

A chuckle left Koko’s lips. “Spirits, no! Bolin’s a cutie but he ain’t tan enough or hairy enough for me. I prefer tribe men,” she replied, thoroughly amused by Nani’s inquiries.

Nani uncrossed her arms and returned to arranging the cutlery. “I just don’t understand why you like him,” she admitted with a sigh.

Pouting, the blue-eyed woman replied, “Because he’s my friend and he’s nice.”

“That’s just it—he’s too nice,” Nani retorted. “Like, aggravatingly so. No one is that nice. Plus, he’s annoying, and peppy, and just so stu-“

The sound of the front door opening cut into her rant.

A resonant, raspy voice called out, “I’m home!”

“Hey, mom!” Koko called back.

Kalla walked in carrying two large take out bags from Narook’s and set them on the counter with a heavy “ooh!”.

The dark haired, older woman peeled her coat off and placed it onto a chair. She then turned to Koko and kissed her cheek. “How was work?”

“It was fine, Mom. The usual, y’know?”

Kalla nodded and turned to Nani with a smile. “And how are you, sweets?” She asked.

The brunette returned the smile shyly, replying, “I’m good. Thank you for dinner.”

Gesturing to the food, the elder Water Tribe woman said, “Dig in, girls. Before it gets cold.”

Nani gratefully helped herself to a heap of seaweed noodles, eyes rolling back as the familiar savory taste coated her tongue. It’d been a long time since she enjoyed Narook’s noodles. She gulped them down quickly, barely even chewing.

It took several minutes of silence, laced only with her own slurping noises, for Nani to notice Kalla and Koko were watching her.

“You must love Narook’s,” the younger woman remarked.

“Slow down, sweets,” Kalla uttered sternly. “You don’t want your cause of death to be ‘gagged on seaweed’, do you?”

Embarrassed, Nani set down her chop sticks.

“I-I’m sorry,” she muttered, not meeting their gazes.

Kalla smirked knowingly. “I remember when I first got off the streets. I inhaled every meal like it would be my last,” she explained. “I used to hide food, too, because I was afraid people would steal it from me.”

She covered her face with one hand and shook her head, laughing. “I remember your father would find rotting kale and mushrooms in the closet and say, ‘honey, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re not in the South Pole anymore!’”

Koko and her mother began cackling, and Nani chuckled along with them.

It was easy being around them, she decided. Both women were fierce and determined, but also carefree and forgiving. When Koko brought her to the apartment, Kalla, a divorced single mother, took Nani in without hesitation and refused a single yuan in return.

“Yue knows I’ve been there,” she’d said. “Save your money so you can buy yourself a castle one day.”

Nani would never forget that.

For the rest of dinner, she listened to Kalla and Koko chat about this-and-that, only participating to nod or laugh. When she finished, Nani began clearing her plate, but Koko reached out to stop her.

“I got it,” the brunette affirmed, swatting her hand away playfully.

Maybe she wasn’t allowed to pay for board, but she was sure as hell going to pull her weight in chores.

“So, Miss Tanana,” Kalla spoke, placing heavy weight on her name. “Who taught you to sing? Koko here was trained at Lady Tuya’s Academy. Their tuition was sky high but Tuya owed me from our days cleaning latrine’s together.”

Nani shrugged, stacking dirty plates into the sink. “No one taught me,” she responded honestly. “One day I was listening to the radio and I just started singing along.”

Leaning back in her chair, Kalla patted her stomach and hiccupped, “Huh. Well, I suppose practice does make perfect!”

“Don’t be modest,” Koko added, teasingly bending a squirt of sudsy water at the brunette. “Weren’t you in the Cherry Wong fan club?”

“President of the Cherry Wong fan club, thank you very much!” Nani quipped, spraying her back.

While the girls giggled and splashed around, Kalla admonished them from her seat, “Hey, hey! I swear to La, if I see the water bill go up even one yuan, I’m throwing you both out on the streets!”

Nani immediately froze and quietly went back to scrubbing the dishes while Koko rinsed them.

“She doesn’t mean it,” The older girl assured Nani, bumping her hip jokingly.

“Did you hear about this Cherry Wong coming back from retirement?” Kalla asked.

Ears prickling, Nani snapped her head back. She feigned ignorance. “Really?” She asked.

Koko nodded with excitement. “Yeah! In fact, she’s coming to our studio to do an interview with Bolin in a few months! But it’s all hush-hush for now, no one else in the station is supposed to know—only me, Bo, and Shiro.”

She hesitated, then looked apologetically at Nani.

“Well, and you, I guess,” she added.

Makes sense why no one’s brought it up at all the last few weeks, Nani contemplated. She was a little annoyed that being Shiro Shinobi’s assistant hadn’t given her the “in” to the studio’s secrets.

Kalla cogitated aloud, “Speaking of Bolin—how is that sweet boy doing?”

Koko moved to the stove and began boiling water in a blue pot. “He’s as good as can be expected,” she replied. “It’s only been six months.”

“Breakups are tough,” the older woman sighed. “He and that Beifong girl were too cute. But that’s what happens when you love a bird too hard…they fly away.”

Nani listened keenly, pretending to focus on the soapy water in front of her.

“Sometimes people drift apart,” Koko commented somberly. She reached into an overhead cabinet and scooped a handful of loose leaf tea into the pot as it came to a boil. “Poor guy didn’t see it coming. He was heartbroken.”

Bolin? Heartbroken? Nani scoffed internally. Sure, and I’m Avatar Aang. Please.

Unable to keep in her contempt, the brunette quietly muttered, “I’m sure he’ll move on to another chick soon. Men don’t dwell on these things for long.”

Koko didn’t respond, but Nani could feel her icy blue eyes on her. She pretended not to notice and started gathering the tea cups.

“Well, I hope he finds a good girl he can keep grounded,” Kalla said, pausing for everyone to notice her joke.

After a painfully long moment, Koko huffed, “Mom, that was terrible.”

Nani couldn’t help but laugh, and Kalla laughed with her.

“See, at least someone thinks I’m funny!” She exclaimed.

Her laughter filled every crevasse of the kitchen, along with the earthy, rich aroma of Ceylon tea.

#legend of korra #bolin #lok #bolin x reader #lok bolin #bolin fluff #bolin headcanons #bolin x y/n #bolin x you

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angelltheninth · 15 days

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Earthbenders When You Challenge Them to an Arm Wrestling Contest

Pairing: Aang, Korra, Bolin, Kuvira, Lin x Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, kissing, flirting, sparing practice

A/N: They're supposed to be tough on the outside.

Aang may not look like the most built earthbender but he can hold his own. No airbending, just physical stamina. While you may be able beat him the first time because you took him off guard but if he were to get serious you wouldn't be able to move him. Unless you wink at him.

Korra trained her whole life and she has the muscles to prove it. She doesn't mind a little contest with you. Besides, it's a good excuse to hold hands and get close to you. Get close enough and you might even get a kiss from her. Or fall to the floor, she'll kiss you then too.

Bolin was about to spit in his hand for good luck but stopped short when he saw the face you made. He doesn't need luck to win, he is very cocky with those big muscles of his. Wins for the first few rounds but then right as he's about to pin your hand down you lean over to kiss him, winning the match.

Kuvira only agrees to prove a point to you, that no matter how sudden the challenge she will be the victor. Smirks at you the whole time you get ready. You can hype yourself up all you need to she'll still come out on top in the end.

Lin doesn't see what the point of this is but decides to humor you anyways. You want to make it more interesting: if she wins you'll help her finish work faster, but if you win she has to take the rest of the day off and spend it with you. Needless to say she hardly tries to win.

#atla x reader #tlok x reader #aang x reader #korra x reader #bolin x reader #kuvira x reader #lin x reader #atla imagine #tlok imagine #atla headcanons #tlok headcanons #atla fluff #tlok fluff #atla x you #tlok x you #x reader

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lamppost-t · 29 days

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˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Intro and request guide ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Hi, I'm Lamp!

I'm a fanfic writer, I love writing and post lots of small blurbs when I have time and I love doing requests (mainly because I have writers block), I write both Gn! and Fem! reader (remember to specify before requesting). I love Sanrio, classical writing and films aswell as Music like Jazz and Bossa nova

!things I won't write!

* ˚ ✦ I will not write smut. I'm not very comfortable with writing smut for personal reasons so please refrain from sending requests for smut

* ˚ ✦ I won't write anything creepy like big/inapropriate age gaps, Racism, homophobia, ect

* ˚ ✦ I won't write real people Its not in my comfort Zone!! I will write for their characters :3

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚Characters I write for ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

ೃ⁀➷ Across the spiderverse

* ˚ ✦ Miguel O'hara

* ˚ ✦ Miles Morales

ೃ⁀➷The Hunger Games

* ˚ ✦ Finnick Odair

* ˚ ✦ Peeta Mellark

* ˚ ✦ Johanna Mason

ೃ⁀➷ The Last Of Us

* ˚ ✦ Ellie Williams

* ˚ ✦ Joel Miller (Platonic)

* ˚ ✦ Jesse

ೃ⁀➷ Avatar The Last Airbender

* ˚ ✦ Zuko

* ˚ ✦ Bolin

* ˚ ✦ Mako

* ˚ ✦ Jett

* ˚ ✦ Suki

ೃ⁀➷ Other

* ˚ ✦ Poe dameron

* ˚ ✦ Rose (Star Wars)

* ˚ ✦ Steven grant

* ˚ ✦ Mark Spector

* ˚ ✦ Peeter Quill

More coming soon!!

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malemacrofics · 1 year

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Ever since Bolin forced Zaheer to "put a sock in it". I've imagined what it would be like to be a pet or toy to that big, himbo lug.

The Side Effects of Spirit-Bending

Content: Gentle Giant, Underwear Entrapment, Cum Eating, Forgetful Giant, Musk, Bolin's just doing his best tbh

A/N: Probably the smuttiest thing I've written yet, I'm not gonna lie. But I am happy with how it came out! Hope you guys like it and, as always, requests are open even if I am kinda slow to get around to them. Also, if you guys have any macro headcanons or blurbs you wanna share, please do! I love talking macro, haha

I wasn’t sure what had happened, if I’m being honest with myself. I am (was?) part of the ground forces attacking Republic City with Kuvira. Her gargantuan machine marched alongside my regiment. My team had been briefed on all the things that might have happened. Everything from the Avatar throwing boulders large enough to fit in my apartment, or the Beifong family joining the fight and attempting to drop entire buildings on the machine. Even that, admittedly handsome, earthbender turning the streets to lava in an attempt to trap the mech was all in the briefing. However, the large purple mushroom cloud that erupted in the middle of the city once the mech fell? Or the resulting energy and shock waves that raced outwards from the epicenter? Those were new. I doubt any briefing could have prepared me for that.

I was one of the unfortunate sods to be close to the epicenter. Everything was basked in a strange, unnatural purple light for a few seconds. The light was quickly followed by an immense burst of heat and force that knocked me horizontal onto the road. Finally, in my last moments before I lost consciousness, I could feel immense amounts of electricity coursing through my body. Almost as though I had stuck my tongue into an electrical outlet. When I finally came too and everything wasn’t surrounded by a constant haze, I looked around to survey my situation.

There were relatively large pieces of debris surrounding me, and the roadway beneath me seemed to suffer a few cracks. However, the buildings on either side of me still reached high into the sky, in fact they seemed higher than they did moments ago. You did just probably suffer some kind of hit to the head. I reminded myself, trying to remain logical despite the rising panic I felt. At least I wasn’t trapped under some debris. I could feel slightly rumbling behind me, however I assured myself it was either an aftershock of whatever caused that shockwave, or a far off building collapsing under its own weight. Now wasn’t the time to get too caught up in worry of what ifs. At least, it wouldn’t have been the time for the panic if not for the massive shadow that began to loom over me. I quickly turned only to see a giant, large enough to eclipse the sun.

I had attempted to bend a nearby rock and blast it towards the giant’s leg, only for it to immediately grab its shin and yell out due to the sudden pain. However, as the giant bent over, and its face got closer to me, I could see who it was, clear as day. It was that lava bender from earlier. However, just as I was able to more clearly make out his face, his eyes fell on me with sudden recognition. I could see his large, green eyes quickly pass through emotions ranging from anger at the pebble I launched his way, to confusion at what I was, before settling on concern. The giant reached out a hand for me. My attempts to evade proved fruitless due to the sheer difference in size between us, as he was able to easily wrap his fingers around me before bringing me up before his face. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, little guy. I don’t want to hurt you! What happened?” He asked

“Let go of me, you big lug!” I responded, trying to thrash against his grip.

“Hey, I genuinely mean you no harm.” He said, opening his hand so I could stand on his palm, “See?”

I warily stood up before eyeing him suspiciously. “So, what do you want?”

“What happened to you? You’re like… five inches tall! Are you a spirit or something?”

“I’m not a spirit. And what do you mean, five inches tall?”

“I don’t know if you noticed, little dude, but you’re standing on my hand. Look around, everything’s giant compared to you!”

I took a look at my surroundings for the first time since the blast, and his words finally set in. The debris I was surrounded by wasn’t actually large. To a normal sized person, it would’ve looked like fist-sized rocks. I must have had a look of concern on my face, as the giant earthbender piped up. “Hey, little guy, don’t panic! Once this is all over, I’ll try to help you get back to normal, alright? My name’s Bolin, by the way.”

Hearing his giant voice grounded me back in our reality. “Right, thank you, Bolin. My name’s Arik. What do we do now?”

Before Bolin could answer, a voice behind him called out “Bolin! Where’s Korra?”

Bolin’s eyes went wide with concern yet again as he frantically tried shoving me into his pocket, only to find his pants lacking them. Then, I could see an idea cross his mind as he mouthed “Sorry” to me before pulling open the waistband of his pants. I didn’t have enough time to grasp what he was doing until I was unceremoniously dropped in and the waistband closed. I fell for only a few seconds until I hit something warm.

I had no light in my new environment, but considering what had happened, It didn’t take much effort to figure out what had happened. I was now face to, well, dick with Bolin. My entire body pinned between his member and the fabric of his underwear. My nose filled with the scent of his musk. I attempted to wriggle free from the confines, only to be met with the giant dick to slowly harden. As it got harder, I found myself with less and less space. Deciding it was better to at least be able to move somewhat, I stopped trying to free myself and instead just wait. Hopefully I wouldn’t be in here long.

—--

Bolin had an exhausting day. He and the rest of Team Avatar, as well as the air nomads, had to deal with Kuvira’s invasion of Republic City, which ended with Korra managing to bend a beam of spirit energy from almost point blank range. And if that weren’t enough, the sheer amount of that energy managed to rip another portal into the spirit realm. After all was said and done, Bolin just wanted to lay down and relax for a little bit. Luckily, Tenzin was more than willing to let him use a guest room on Air Temple Island.

Bolin opened the paper door and saw the room he’d be staying in for the night. A bed pushed against the corner with a wardrobe in the neighboring corner, and between them a large, hexagonal window to let in plenty of wind. He collapsed on the bed, initially face first before turning onto his back. All he really wanted to do was fall asleep, but after the day he was coated in so much sweat he knew he should shower first. But before he could begin to get back up and head into the shower, he could feel his blood begin to rush towards his manhood and feel it begin to harden. He placed his palm on his bulge and began playing with it through the fabric. “What the hell,” Bolin thought to himself, “I deserve it after the day I had.”

As he finished his thought, he pulled down the waistband of his pants and boxers and put his dick in his hand.

—--

Arik felt like the day might never end. He could feel each footstep Bolin took, causing his surroundings to constantly shift. It wasn’t terrible until Bolin began walking up and down some slope. The fabric and skin around him began to shift until he was pinned under looser skin, which Arik quickly identified as Bolin’s testicles. Their wiry hair coiled around his limbs until he was plastered to their surface, and his face now inches away from the tip of Bolin’s penis. As Arik tried to free himself from the hairs, Bolin’s dick would harden again, but with his new position, all he could do was watch as it also leaked small amounts of precum, coating Arik’s face, even forcing him to attempt to eat it if he still wanted to be able to breath. Ironically, the part of this whole experience Arik hated the most wasn’t being trapped against a sweaty crotch, but it was feeling his own dick harden at the experience. At least Arik could take solace in the fact he already had a crush on Bolin after seeing him in those moving pictures a few years back.

Eventually, Bolin began to move more slowly, and he heard some talk through the fabric of Bolin asking someone to stay on Air Temple Island. As Arik was feeling more excited at the prospects of getting out of Bolin’s boxers, he was met with a massive force pushing him closer to the giant earthbender. He was completely pinned against the fabric. Once the pressure alleviated, he attempted to untangle himself one final time in hopes of getting out. Once again, all he did was cause the giant member to grow harder. However, before it could leak any more precum on him, Arik saw light as the waistband of the boxers were moved. However, his hopes were quickly dashed as he watched Bolin grab his own dick in his hands before trying to jack off. Arik wriggled more out of rage, doing anything he could to free himself, but only causing faint moans to come from Bolin.

I finally managed to free one of my arms, using it to free the rest of my limbs. As soon as I freed myself, I began to climb the massive balls I was pinned under for the better part of the day. I finally stood tall at the base of Bolin’s penis. His eyes were closed as he continued to jerk himself off, and I knew he wouldn’t hear me at this distance. I summoned the rest of my energy to begin running along his torso. At first, the run wasn’t terrible. His muscular build granted me enough traction that I wasn’t too worried about slipping, despite the… activity he was currently doing. However, as I began to reach his mountainous pecs, I felt a massive force hit me from behind, throwing me down onto the earthbender’s skin. A white, salty liquid covered my body, and in only a few moments more drops of it hit where I was, all the while I could hear Bolin moan in pleasure. After I picked myself up and wiped off my eyes, Bolin’s eyes fell on me. He quickly grabbed me before sitting up. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry Arik! I completely forgot you were down there!” He apologized. “You’re like, totally covered with my cum now huh? How about we shower and I can try to make it up to you, sound good little guy?”

I simply nodded, as any attempt to open my mouth caused the earthbender’s cum to enter my mouth, forcing me again to swallow it. Bolin stood up and entered the bathroom attached to his guest room. He disrobed after placing me on the counter of the sink. I could see his full body in all its majesty, from strong arms and muscular torso, to his thick cock and tree-like legs. He was built like an adonis. He reached behind me and slowly turned on the sink, just enough to let the waterfall in a single stream rather than a few pitiful drops. He let me climb back onto his palm so I could more easily climb into the basin. He even used his finger nail to cut me off a little chunk of soap to wash myself up with. Meanwhile, he turned on the water for the actual shower and entered. I wasn’t able to see him in any detail through the frosted glass. However, once he was done, he looked just as stunning as the remaining water coursed over his skin. He walked over to the sink and turned off the water. He quickly dried himself off with a towel and wrapped it around his waist before grabbing a small cloth, likely for people to dry off their hands after washing them, and gave it to me to dry myself off with.

Once I was done, he let me climb back onto his palm and took me back into the main room. He placed me onto the table beside the bed, before walking over to the wardrobe and looking through the extra clothes in there. He finally settled on an outfit, it’s orange, yellow, and red fabric making it clear it was an air nomad ensemble, however it still looked natural on him. “I doubt there’s anything in here that’ll fit you, little guy.” Bolin said in an apologetic tone. Before I could even try to reassure him, he turned on his heel and faced me “But don’t worry! I have an idea. Just stay right there, alright?”

Bolin quickly left the room after finishing his thought, only to return a few minutes later, a bundle of fabric being held in one hand, and what looked like a few cookies in the other. He set it all on the bedside table right next to me. “I figured Tenzen’s kids might still have their doll clothes, and I was right!” Bolin said, proud of himself. “Any of these suit you?”

Bolin then began rummaging through the pile of doll’s clothes. There were an assortment of clothes, many reflecting clothes of the different nations. Finally, I settled on an outfit that somewhat resembled Earth Kingdom fashion, with deep greens contrasted with brilliant gold. Unfortunately the pants were a little big for me, but Bolin quickly fixed that by pulling a thread from a shirt I didn’t like and tying it around my waist like a belt. “You look so cute like that, Arik!”

“T-thanks” I sputtered, a blush quickly coming to my cheeks as I looked away from Bolin’s face. I was then nudged by one of his fingers, atop it a small piece of a cookie he had brought back for me. I didn’t want it initially, until I felt my stomach rumble and remembered that the only thing I’ve eaten all day came from Bolin in a more… intimate manner. In the end, I graciously took the crumb and sat closer to the edge of the bedside table. Bolin and I talked for the rest of the night, him trying to get to know me better. Eventually, as we were preparing to go to bed, he said to me “I promise, starting tomorrow I’ll talk to Korra to try to get this fixed.”

“Bolin, can I be honest with you?” I asked, slightly nervous about his response.

“Yeah, of course, little guy! Glad to see you beginning to trust me more.” He responded with a small chuckle.

“I don’t know how much I want to go back to normal…”

“What do you mean? You want to stay like this forever?” “I don’t know about forever, but after getting this tiny and being found by you, things have been kind of… nice, I guess.”

“Even after I accidentally hit you with my cum?” “Weirdly enough, yeah. I had a massive crush seeing you as Nuktuk, and now getting to be taken care of by you? I don’t know, it’s kinda nice. Even if I did spend most of the day against your sweaty crotch.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, it was kind of nice getting to take care of you. And I promise it’s not normally that sweaty.” He said, with another small chuckle to himself. “But I want you to know, if at any time you want to grow back, I’ll talk to Korra and see what we can do. But until then, how about you be my little pet?” “Deal.”

With that, Bolin stripped down to just a pair of boxers and laid on the bed, pulling the covers over him. “So, Arik, where do you wanna sleep? Wanna try laying on my chest, hearing my heartbeat? Or maybe you wanna go back into my boxers? Bolin Jr. is already beginning to miss you.” Bolin said. And sure enough, you turned around and began to see a small bulge growing under the blanket. “No pressure, though” Bolin reassured you.

A/N: Sorry for the vague ending, but wanted you guys as readers to decide where to sleep for the night, lol.

#avatar bolin #Bolin #bolin x reader #Bolin x Male!Reader #canon x reader #canon x male!Reader #male!reader #don't know if this is really x reader #Legend of Korra #Word Count: 2500-3000 #Macro/Micro #fluff if you ignore half the fic

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thestargayzingetherian · 8 months

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Avatar: Legend of Korra Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Korra/Asami Sato, Bolin/Opal (Avatar) Characters: Korra (Avatar), Asami Sato, Bolin (Avatar), Opal (Avatar), Mako (Avatar) Additional Tags: Fluff, Canon, Post-Canon, Pai Sho (Avatar), Kissing, Game Night, Korra/Asami Sato-centric, Bolin & Asami Sato Friendship, Post-Avatar: The Legend of Korra, Games, Board Games Summary:

While she and Korra are at Bolin and Opal’s place, Asami and Bolin get into quite a competitive game of Pai Cho. (Korrasami, Canon, Fluff)

#Korrasami #Korra #Asami #Mako #Bolin #Opal #Canon #Fluff #Avatar #Lok #Fanfiction

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spacey-spaz · 2 months

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Hello everyone! I’ve made a small bolinxeska one-shot meant for Valentine’s Day (even though it’s a little late). I know my interpretation of Eska may be different from most but I’ve only been writing for a short time, so please don’t tease me lol!

#legends of korra #lok bolin #eska and desna #Boleska #Eska #Varrick #zhu li moon #romance #fluff #movers #Nuktuk #thirsty #mention of Opal

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gamergoddess003 · 1 month

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-Smutty Thoughts- 18+

(Okay I know I’m making a big deal over Bolin being an earth bender and him just being a rock himself. Let’s not talk about it. 🙈)

This earth bender is just make of rock. Rock hard thighs, rock hard calves, rock hard pecs, rock hard abs, rock hard biceps, rock hard back and shoulder muscles and omg I want that huge rock hard cock to rock my world. 🥴

#bolin x reader smut #bolin imagine #bolin fluff #bolin smut #legend of korra bolin #bolin x reader #lok bolin #bolin #nuktuk

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hazashiovo · 2 months

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Helloooo!! Can I request mako and bolín (seperate) being protective of their (s/o), thank you a lot<33

Ofc u can!

A/n: mako and Bolin have the most requests so far,I'm really glad tbh that people are submitting requests,keep em coming.i also added in Korra and Kuvira ,since this seems like a perfect imagine for them.

Genre: Fluff

Mako x reader, Bolin x reader, Kuvira x reader,Korra x reader (all separate)

Overprotective Lovers

Warnings: none.

Starting off with Mako,he's the kind of guy that doesn't take well to someone talking to you in some kind of mean way in front of him, especially if you're more a more naive person.

Even if you take care of yourself, he's still there making sure you're away from harms way.

If you ever get hurt or kidnapped,it's over for whoever did it, it's not like he's usually a calm person,but take away his favorite person and you got yourself a big problem to deal with.

Even when you're not exactly in danger, he's there. It's sweet really,but it can also be annoying when overdone.

You like being protected by him,but not all the time, he didn't like it when you talked to Korra, claiming since she's the avatar she would draw unnecessary attention over you and put you in complicated situations.

Of course you explain to him that you're a big girl and that you can watch over yourself,but he just can't understand it. {Sigh}.

Korra? Well she had her ups and downs. But she learned ,ok? Once you two got together ,this feeling that's she allways had grew stronger,her urge to protect you.

Of course she would blame it on the fact that she's the avatar,but really it was her being protective of you.

Even before dating her ,you knew this would draw a lot of attention to yourself, and potential enemies of the avatar would want to harm you. But that didn't stop you,after all you're free to love whoever you want even if it endangers you.

When Korra faced Amon she used to be Terrified something bad would happen to you, even her dreams would be hunted by dark images. She would see Amon preparing to take away your bending,but each time she would wake up before anything happened,in cold sweat,with you by her side.

If you're a light sleeper,you would assure her nothing happened to you,and that you're okay.

Even after she defeated Amon, more villains appeared,making Korra constantly worry about you. But one thing is sure, that she would always be there to protect you,and in case anything happens,to save you.

This boy is the most carefree of them all. He doesn't really have to worry that you would be kidnapped or hurt most of the time,but if it ever happens, either someone hurt you or something went wrong in the mission?

He's full boyfriend mode on. He wouldn't be like Korra or Mako, first thing he would do is bring you to safety, revenge not being his thing.

If you're okay ,that's what matters to him. But now if you're especially targeted by someone? He's not as chill as before. Especially since he recently learned how to lava bend, which makes him a pretty strong bender, definitely not the kind you would want to piss off by chasing around his girlfriend,nu uh.

Bolin knew it was a mistake to introduce you to his boss, Varrick.

That man would make flirty jokes with you,which always made Bolin roll his eyes and mock him quietly.

So what if he's smart and rich? You wouldn't like a prick like him.

Whenever Varrick got too close, your boy would be there to put distance between the two of you. It's not that he's jealous,but he knows how his boss is.

Yeah no. I doubt anyone would even try to threaten you while she's around.

After all the power and respect she gained, expect people to fear you just because you're with her. So mostly Kuvira doesn't have to worry that anyone is gonna try anything.

After all she made quite a name for herself.

Even so, being The Great Uniter's s/o came with it's disadvantages.

For example,if someone really wanted to hurt her,they would target you. You're her soft spot,and she knows it.

Yes,you have your personal guards picked by Kuvira herself. Just because she doesn't expect you to be attacked it doesn't mean she won't be prepared for it.

You're hers,and the world knows it.

A/n : I really enjoyed writing this,I might make another part with different characters :)

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eddiesghxst · 3 months

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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.

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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

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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

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