#my beloved trope <3

[nmzuka]

whatever I'll post my addendum to it anyway

[catsharky]

I just like coming up with excuses to make Rolan blush >:3

[pursuitseternal]

“All Vim and Vigor, dearest…” a soft, nsfw Vampire Rogue Astarion update for “Bites in the Night:”

Astarion x F!Reader | E | 4K wound tending sex

Summary: the aftermath of a battle, and one companion is missing. Astarion. You race to find him, pulling him the the grip of death.. true death. Your tender, loving care can restore him. After all, you have to make sure all his vim and vigor is returned to him. Entirely.

CW: Blood, near death experience, healing, wound cleaning, flirtation, awkward Karlach interrupting growing intimacy, blow jobs and mutual hand jobs and fingering, just too be sure everything is… healed.

For @genesis-6666 💌

Read here if you prefer on AO3

Find him, save him…

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The dead lay around you. Goblins. An ambush. You bend over, hands on your knees, panting to catch your breath. Your wounds are minimal, and already Shadowheart has run to find the rest of your party, healing… or reviving… when needed. She looks up from over Gale’s body, his chest finally breathing again. But her eyes look worried. You scan the area, seeing everyone staggering between the trees. Almost all, you realize as your thumping heart stills. There is one of you missing. And your stomach twirls in knots as you realize just who.

You spin your head, looking. “Where is he?” you call to her. “Where’s Astarion?”

She shakes her head. “I thought he was with you, on the high ground,” she pants. “He was up there last I saw.” Her lithe hand points into the crags of rock and mountain that line the canyon.

It had been quick, sudden, and brutal. The ambush of Goblins swallowing you up. Last you remember, he had stared at you. Excitement, surprise, the thrill of bloodlust and eagerness in his eyes, as the goblin ranks kept coming and coming down from those ridges. One last fang-flashing smirk before he ran into the shadows, skirting up to their source. Your fearless, reckless, stupid rogue.

You hurry, scrambling up the trail, swerving past the thicker pools of goblin blood, leaping over their bodies. You see them scattered all over, dagger stab wounds and slashes.

Signs that he was here.

It’s carnage that you push past. Climbing higher until you reach a plateau, empty, the end of the trail, where you expect to see your vampire, your rogue, your… your love. But there is… nothing. Not a body. No enemies. No Astarion.

Panic fills you, heart rapping in your chest, breath growing short. But you force yourself forward. You make your eyes scan the ground for any clues. His blood. Or signs of his capture. You make your lungs fill, you shout his name…

Then, you hold your breath.

A faint groan comes from the distance, somewhere near the sheer rock face that pierces the sky, from the dense shrubs that line it. You race after it, feet almost skittering as you stumble in that direction. Your hands pushing into the brambles, catching sight of pale skin. Covered in blood.

You reach for his body. His skin is cold, waxy, and tight. You find one arm and pull. He groans as you tug, you grab his second arm, freeing him from the brambles, even as your lungs ease to see his face again.

But your hope fades to agony, his face is bruised and beaten, black and blue and shadowed more than his undead charisma. His breathing is quick and shallow, his eyes nearly swollen shut from whatever beating he took up here. You finally slide him free, his clothing is torn, almost every inch of the skin you see is darkened with bruises.

His voice shakes as he tries to catch a breath, eyes forcing themselves open to look at you. “You’re here,” he manages to rasp out. “I knew you would find me. You always find me.”

“Shhh,” you run your hand through his hair, his brow damp with sweat, his eyes losing focus as his head begins to loll. “It’s going to be alright.”

“At least I got to see you once more…” his voice grates against his throat, breath growing ragged.

You hand digs into your pocket, pulling out your last vial of healing potion. You pull the cork and press it instantly to his lips. The liquid flows into those pale lips, and you can only kneel and pray it’s enough. His breath begins to ease instead of rattle, his face beginning to heal, his pallor returning, the traces of blue-black death fading.

His mouth twitches trying to talk. But you shush him softly, “I’m here, Astarion, it’s alright.”

“F-far from,” he ekes out as his eyes flutter open slightly, the swelling abating just enough for you to see both crimson eyes again.

“I’ll get you back to the others,” you look around, sizing up his lean body, running a hand through his hair before you brace behind his shoulders to get him to sit upright. He groans, limp in your arm. He can be so strong and swift, but it’s only now you also notice how lithe he is. How lean. But still, he’s too great a weight for you to bear alone.

That’s when the running of heavier feet makes your lungs fill fully and your heart leap in hope. “You found him, good for you, soldier!” Karlach trods right up next to you, barely out of breath. “Shadowheart said you would hopefully have found him, I’m to help you back where we are making camp.” Her thick tiefling arms pick him up, none too gently, and you hiss in worry to see him pulled to his feet so quickly.

“I swear, if you throw me around like that, I would puke on you if I had anything left in me…” he snipes as Karlach takes him by one arm, shaking her fiery head at his sass with a smile and waiting for you to take the other.

You snigger. He must be on the mend if he is throwing those barbs out again. But he falls silent again, head hanging low. You shoulder his body as best you can, bracing one hand on his bare chest, wishing for once he had a living heart that beat so you knew he was alive. “Stay with me,” you grunt, shoving your mouth into his long, pointed ear. “I’ll kill you if you die, you know.”

“I know… my sweet,” he manages to rasp, a slight turn of his head to throw you a feeble smirk. Karlach is definitely bearing most of him, but she doesn’t complain, not as you finally make it down the ridges and back to the main road.

“Not too much further,” Karlach heaves more of him on her shoulder, “Gale should have the tents up by now so he can rest.”

You three round a bend, the flickering of a fire and the spattered sight of tents warms your heart. You made it. Even the rose and burgundy canvas of Astarion’s tent is set to perfection. You’ll have to remember to thank Gale later, once your rogue is through the worst of it.

Into the warm dark you go, setting Astarion out on his bedroll, propping him cautiously on a stack of pillows.

“Water, clothes, and another potion,” Karlach points to the supplies placed tidily within reach. “I’ll be back, just shout if you need anything.”

And then she steps away, taking her warmth and her glowing presence back through the flaps of his tent.

You look after her, another friend you’ll have to thank.

Something hard and cold grips around your hand from where it rests on the ground. He’s clutching you, making sure he’s not alone.

“I’ve got you,” you whisper, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before you rest it on his own stomach. “Let me get you cleaned up,” you look into his face, his eyes still shut, face still and unmoving. “Is that alright?”

“More than alright,” he speaks quietly, “the sooner you get rid of this stinking goblin blood off me, the sooner I can just savor that delicious fragrance of yours…” he hisses in pain before the last word is completely off his tongue. Your hand ghosts over the still-sprawling bruisers that run along his side. He tries so hard to be the usually suave, charismatic charmer, but something still troubles him.

Your hand hovers between the cloth and the potion, unsure what to do first. Then you hear it, a wracking cough, one that shakes his frame, bringing blood to his lips.

His blood.

You quickly uncork the second bottle, fairly shoving it in his mouth. “What did they do to you?” You barely get the question out your mouth as he sighs from swallowing the healing mix down.

“Thrashed me an inch from life… or an inch from undeath I suppose…” He forces a blithe smile, his giggle is slick with his own blood, but at least you can hear his lungs filling. More fully than before. The potion working to heal whatever internal damage he must have had.

You eye the red around his lips, pausing for a second. It was a common sight, his bloodied lips, but… never his own blood.

You wonder, for a moment, how does he taste?

You know the salt of his sweat, the bitter tang of his cum, why not? Why not see what his blood tastes of, for once…

“Gods below,” he throws you a mischievous smirk. “You’re wanting to taste my blood now, aren’t you?” You feel your surprise lifting your face, and he only sucks his teeth, shaking his head in feigned disbelief. “Tch, I don’t need a spell to read your dirty thoughts, darling…”

Your eyes dart to his conceited, smirking mouth. You hold your breath… until you close your hand around the towel and soak it in the soapy water. “Don’t be ridiculous, Astarion…” you huff, starting to bring the cloth to his face.

His hand grips the back of your neck, clutching you against his mouth for a wet and bloodied kiss. It tastes… ancient, refined and heady. Rich in a way that coats your tongue, even as his own delves in to tangle with yours. You swallow, sucking on his lips for more. He laughs, lightly, hiding a groan, “If you’re planning on more rigorous pursuits, I’d say I need bathing and tending first, darling.”

You pull away, shocked at yourself, so aroused with him only moments ago near-death. Your cheeks flush, white hot as you begin to clean him. He closes his eyes, propped up as he is on pillows. Lounging, relishing your full attention.

You wash and rinse, wash and rinse. It’s hard not to stare at his beauty, at the hard edges of his cheeks and jaw, the little lines about his eyes that crinkle when he smirks or laughs. He locks those piercing eyes on you as you dip the rag back and wring it out. He stalks every movement you make, washing his body lower and lower, inspecting his bruises as they slowly fade with the healing magic.

You finish his chest, forcing your breath to steady as you wash that rising and falling belly of his.

“Are you sure I don’t need tending any lower…?” he purrs.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Perhaps you rest first before you insist on everything checked for being in good working order, hmm?”

He rolls his eyes back in his head, a sigh of total emphatic drama. “Doctor’s orders…” he grumbles, lounging back against the throws, but not before he gives a little thrust of his hips, a clench of his belly under your hand where it rests on him still.

“Sleep, you scoundrel,” you chide, reaching to dry off his now clean skin, savoring the fresh scent in the air from the soap. You feel his body, still tense under your touch, wound tight and stiff that isn’t the result of his charming flirtation or dirty, lustful thoughts. You look at him, staring at his face, worry furrowing your brows. “What’s wrong?”

His eyes flicker over you, bright with mischief, half-lidded with flirtation. “Vampires don’t require… sleep. Not much. Not as much as… well… other things…”

You look into that beautiful face. He’s gaunt. Pale, well more than usual. Rings line his eyes, cradling that crimson glare in shadow. His lips twitch, fighting the urge to bare those glistening and pointed fangs.

“Oh, gods, now?” you breathe, heart racing.

He waves a hand dismissively, a sharp edge to his voice. Hungry. Annoyed. “Well, if you don’t want your strong, well-fed vampire to heal completely, then by all means…”

“No,” you almost leap next to his face, those smirking eyes scan over you, dilating in his hunger, fixating on the rapid pulse you know must be just throbbing under your skin for him to salivate over. But his hand grips yours, raising it to his lips. Kissing your fingers so softly, your stomach drops and your throat tightens. Slowly, he turns your hand over in his, raising your tingling inner wrist to his nose. You feel his breath, cold and quick, as he inhales your scent. Probably already savoring the scent of your blood rushing just beneath your skin.

“So then, I may?” his voice almost fails to reach your ears, you hear it more from the little tickles his breath makes across your skin, the gentle flutters of his lips over the nerves of your wrist. Like lighting in the air, his breath ripples in pinpricks on your skin.

“Yes,” you sigh, lungs burning as you hold your breath until he bites thos razor-sharp fangs into your tender flesh. Gasping, you hold your wrist to his mouth, every drop of your blood that leaves you, you can almost feel, almost sense, how it makes him stronger again. Empowered again. Hungry again for more.

It just feels so good, even as he feasts on you, as you savor that strange sensation that follows every time he feeds, that union of your bodies, your blood sating his hunger, beginning to course in his veins. A small, strangled moan escapes your lips, your eyes fixated on the way his mouth sucks on your wrist. You’ve never seen it before, never been able to watch his consuming of you, as he drinks from your neck. The little ways his tongue laps at your skin, the small bobbing of his Adam’s apple as he swallows you down. A different sort of pleasure denied you when he drinks in the middle of the night. Your stomach churns, your thighs burning hot as you can’t look away.

A slight, definitely insufferable smile tugs at the corner of his lip as he sets your wrist back in your lap. “Liked what you saw?” he preens, so proud as he dabs a single finger at the bloodied corner of his mouth. “Or just thankful I’m still here to have my fill of you?”

“Both,” you reply before even a second thought crosses you mind. Your sight lowers to his mouth, you can almost feel those lips on yours, the way the twitch ever so slightly, the little tweaks that lift them to show those pointed fangs you love to have catch your flesh and nip at you when he kisses….

So close, you feel him closing that distance, his breath rushing into you, filling your lungs, your soul, ice cold and tangible.

“Hope you like rabbit, Gale’s got stew nearly done for…” Karlach sticks her flaming, sparking scarlet head into your tent then she strides all the way in. Those glowing eyes go wide. You’re so close, even as you turn your head, you can hear Astarion’s laugh tickle the creases of your ear.

You go flush, and not just because he insists on still giving your cheek a lingering kiss.

“Feeling better, is he?” Karlach laughs, a bit forced. A bit uncomfortable.

“Clearly,” you huff, sliding slightly from his side. But he only leans all the closer.

His eyes rake over you. You can feel it. You can almost see it in the way Karlach sifts from foot to foot. He chuckles, low and slow, “Yes, all vim and vigor, dearest. We were just about to discuss how I was going to make it up to her for all that attentive care and healing I required to pull me back from the brink of death…”

Your eyes flicker to Karlach, who would be blushing beet red now if she weren’t already so scarlet. “Ahem,” she clears her voice and stands quickly, “that’ll be my cue. I’ll leave you two to it..:”

“No it’s okay… the stew...” you begin but she’s already gone and yelling on the other side of the tent.

“Oi, Gale, keep it warm…” a long pause follows, a deep voice muted in the distance. Then Karlach guffaws with gusto. “Yeah, they’ll be fucking for hours most likely… she might not even be hungry once he stuffs her again…” the tiefling’s boisterous laugh fades as she trods away.

Your face goes hotter than an inferno, but that only makes his cold fingers sear all the more as he caresses your cheek. A single finger lifts your chin, turning your face towards that rakish, sultry smirk. “I thought she’d never leave. Now,” he hovers his mouth right over yours, “where were we?”

“We…” you clear your throat, “we were just making sure you were healed…”

“Mmmm, I’m pretty sure you’ve inspected me thoroughly everywhere but one place, darling,” he rasps, catching your lips in a commanding, languorous kiss.

“You almost died, Astarion,” you hiss between his teeth, fighting the way your folds are burning up, the way his other hand begins to slink over the buckskin of your breeches. “Should you really risk so much exertion?” Your body is tensing, your mind remembering the way he rattled as he struggled for air on the mountain, the way his flesh was blackened and sickly. Dead, almost truely dead.

His chuckle, that low-throated giggle, pulls you out of those macabre imaginings. “Well, I'd be more than happy to simply lay back and let you do all the hard work, if that’s what your concern is…”

You give him a mocking smile, “Oh yes, I’m very certain you are only doing this for my sake, love. Making sure I feel good after pulling you back from near death to life… well to undeath…” You give a sheepish grin, relieved that your humor only adds to the mischievous glint in his crimson eyes.

“You know me, the image of selflessness. I’m doing you a favor. If you left now…” his smirk widened, deliciously, wickedly, “…you’d be thinking about it all night.” His hand weaves into the little hairs at the nape of your neck, twirling them in the way he knows drives you crazy.

“Well, I suppose I can be persuaded… just to make sure you’re all vim and vigor.” You laugh as his hand is already loosening the laces of his breeches. “But,” you place one of yours to stay him a moment. Gods, you can already feel his cock, hard and pushing his way out for pleasure. You swallow, making yourself look in his eyes. At how they swirl with his lust, glassy with his need. “But you tell me the moment it’s too much, you promise?”

“If you wanted me to just be more vocal during our couplings, you had only to ask, darling…” he purrs, forcing his fingers loose under your palm to continue unlacing.

You grab them in yours. “I mean it,” you insist, hard in tone, commanding in just three words.

“I promise, I’ll say when, my dear,” he laughs, finally freeing himself from the confines of his breeches. You look down at him, his devious pleasure of just watching you crawling between his thighs.

You give his cock a good, long lick from base to tip, his groan of approval sending shivers between your own thighs. But you force a dispassionate hum as you wrap your lips around his twitching head. “Seems in good working order,” you whisper.

“I think it needs a little more.. attentive care, darling…” he groans, very loudly as you wrap your mouth all the way around him, taking him in deeply over your tongue. You roll your eyes, unsurprised at how he gives a moan with each suck you make, each lap of your tongue running up his length.

More vocal indeed.

You bob up and down, your lover relaxing back against his pillows, fingers toying languorously through your hair. Your own hand pumps over the rest of him that just can’t fit inside your lips. He feels so good, so hard and strong and full of life. And he seems to be getting louder… his moans increasing. “So good for me, darling…” he starts to praise. “Always so attentive and eager… and…”

You pop off him, meeting that insufferable smirk and quirked brows. “You want them to know, don’t you?”

“Me? Wanting to draw some attention to our lustful pursuits?” He casts that look at you that makes every nerve in your body flame with unbridled desire for him. “I just want them to make sure you care of me is certainly thorough,” he grins, “I’m just so… thankful… it’s hard to keep it in. After all you do… so much for me, darling…”

“Be a dear and shut up,” you purr, giving one more swirl around that ridge of his tip.

“Make me,” he growls, flashing that roguish smirk down at you, licking his lips.

You pounce, flooded with relief that he is alive... that he’s filled with all that vim and vigor and irascible, irritating sass. You’re brimming with the need to feel him, for all his taunting and flirtation, all his lust and passion, you’re just… happy he is here. To kiss, to fuck, to banter with. And you do make him shut up, your lips on his, your teeth sinking playfully into his lower lip, sucking it with a tug. You keep one hand on his cock, riding it, pumping it, keeping time with the way his tongue darts in and out of your mouth. Something cold slips under your shirt, his fingers skating into the band of your breeches.

You keep your mouth fixed on his, making certain he’s far too busy for any noises you can’t muffle. But as his fingers slip between your thighs, an unbidden cry rips from your throat.

“Who’s the loud mouth now?” He chides, sucking his teeth at you, even with your lips coupled as they are. He laughs again, his fingers catching on your clit just right as he rides up and down your seam. “Don’t cease your own task at hand on my account,” he sniggers, his cold fingers lacing around his shaft, interweaving with yours.

His breath sucks in yours. His fingers playing in you, teasing so much wetness from your folds, you wish you had just taken your pants off when you had the chance. Now it was too late. Now, you’d be sticky from your own arousal, probably covered in his cum too as you leave his tent.

The thought makes your cheeks burn but not in shame. In a searing wave of desire. Your hand works up and down, catching that thick, blunt tip with your thumb in the way that makes him groan. His kisses deepen, hungry and feral, the same he’s stoked in you with the little ways his fangs catch on the inside of your lips. He’s losing that refined control he keeps. Pushed past the calculating movements as you stroke him in your fist and lick his tongue with your own.

“Gods,” he growls, his cock so hard, his fingers inside you working at a fevered pace. “You’ll come for me too, darling. My recompense for your care.”

“Yes,” you moan, his fingers diving deep into your cunt, crooking on that sweet spot he knows well.

You clench, shaking as he pummels inside you, your own hand struggling to work on his cock with how hard he is. How thick he is. But the instant you drench his fingers and fill his palm as you climax, he follows you into that messy, groaning bliss. Hot cum drips down your arm, spattered on your sleeve, on the belly of your shirt.

He’s gasping into your mouth, his lips pulled back wide in a genuine smile. His forehead presses against yours as he catches his breath, stealing your own from your lips. “Well,” he pants, “am I fully recovered?”

“All vim… and vigor…” you heave, moaning as he slips his fingers from your thighs.

“Hmm,” he hums against your lips, trapping them in his own with a slight nip. “Are you sure you’re satisfied with my performance?”

You laugh, giving a little shove against his chest. “For now,” you tease, “but it seems another round of cleaning is in order.” Your hand reaches for the rag, wiping his juices from your hand, your arm. Only to hear him sucking on his own fingers.

His brow arched wryly as you turn to watch. Those two long fingers that still drip with your cum are shoved far back in his mouth, his tongue swirling over every inch. “What?” he smirks, “why waste something so delicious…”

You shake your head, lovingly irritated at his cheekiness, but already your body is already aching for more. “Perhaps,” you clear your throat, heart pounding as you watch him sliding those already drenched fingers over his tongue. “Perhaps you do need a little more inspection, just to be sure…”

“Thought so,” he sniffs, that insufferable smirk widening to show his teeth. “Best be sure… just in case…”

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Read more “Bites in the Night:”

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Ascended Astarion in “The Rogue You Were:”

🩸Part 1 🩸 Part 2 🩸Part 3 🩸 Part 4🩸

Read my Drabbles

“Just a Drop…” Astarion as Tav turns

“Beg me…” A highly NSFW Ascended Astarion x reader

“Your Reward:” Ascended Astarion Dark!Fic

[godofstupidsentences]

“sunshine x midnight rain” but the sunshine is actually deeply fucked up in the head

[charlesemersonwinchesteriii]

[ziptiesnfries]

character with a zipper mouth who gets their hands tied behind their back, so others control when their mouth is zipped open or shut 🤐 muffled shouts and begging to be allowed to speak 🤐 muffled screams when they're getting hurt 🤐 zipper mouths 🤐

[teencopandthesourwolf]

you're laughing. derek "living an entirely fucked up solitary existence in my family's burnt down shell of a home as a chin-up loving omega werewolf freak" hale fell in love with stiles "my cousin... miguel" stilinski and you're laughing

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

one of Thee funniest tv tropes is "group of people (better if they're not friends) wake up in the same area after being blackout drunk, with it being Wildly obvious that some crazy shit went down & they have to puzzle it out / fix their mess without anyone knowing"

[honey-flustered]

Cruel Little Vixen 4

Rockstar!Perv!Eddie Munson x Journalist!Reader

Enemies to Friends to Lovers (18+ MDNI)

Summary: You’re on tour with Corroded Coffin when Eddie decides to confront you about your distance. Your true feelings finally come to surface after bottling them up for so long.

A/N: The way yall have supported my writing has been such a surreal experience for me. I swear I can’t thank you guys enough for all the love ❤️. This chapter may be a little angsty, a little sad but the reward is great because it’s full of fluff here and next chapter will be crazy smutty fluffy. I love writing so much and i’m glad i can share it all with you. Hope you enjoy!

>>>Series Masterlist Part 4 of 8

Word Count: 7.3k+

Warnings: yelling, addict parent, mentions of insecurities, kissing, confessing feelings, hand holding, eddie and reader being idiots, sexual tension, dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), face riding, use of sex toy, ‘master’ kink name, slight dry humping, french kissing, orgasm denial, cum eating

Despite not seeing him for so long having an affect your article, you decided not to bother him, figuring he wouldn’t want to see you either. It wasn’t until Mel Thomas had begged you to speak to him, claiming that Eddie would only listen to you.

So here you were. You’re at his front door pacing back and forth, conflicted between leaving or knocking. Your hands move on their own accord. You knock. Immediately regretting your decision, you turned to leave when you heard the door creak open.

So here you were. You’re at his front door pacing back and forth, conflicted between leaving or knocking. Your hands move on their own accord. You knock. Immediately regretting your decision, you turned to leave when you heard the door creak open.

“Y/n?” You turn around. It’s Wayne Munson.

“Hello, Mr. Munson, I’m sorry to disturb you. The band’s really worried about Eddie. We all are, actually. We hadn’t seen him in a week and we wanted to know if everything’s ok.”

Wayne waves you to come closer, you do. He swings the door open just an inch more and points into the living room. There you saw a frail older woman, about in her late 40s, jittery and pale. She bared a close resemblance to Eddie. She’s wrapped in a fleece blanket sitting on the couch, Eddie’s arm around her. He’s comforting her. Is it who you thought it was?

“That’s Eddie’s mother, Sheila,” Wayne explains. “She’s an addict. He hasn’t seen her in 3 years.”

You felt a twinge of pain in your heart for Eddie. You remembered him telling you that she’s been in and out of his life. You hadn’t known that it was due to substance abuse. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to come at such a personal time. I should go.”

“No. It’s actually a really good thing you’re here. Eddie’ll need the company while I head to the store. Come on in.” Wayne steps out of the way and you timidly take a step inside.

Eddie doesn’t notice you just yet. Instead, he helps lead his mother up the stairs possibly to have her get some rest.

“I’ll just get some things for dinner tonight. You’ll need anything?” Wayne asks.

“No, thank you. But I can assist you with dinner. I just want to help anyway I can.”

“You being here is already enough.” He pats your shoulder.

Eddie’s back downstairs. This time he sees you. You couldn’t read his emotions much but you sensed some shame behind his eyes.

“Well, I should get going,” Wayne announces. “Eds, you be nice.”

“Aren’t I always?” Eddie shrugs, meeting you in the middle.

Wayne shoots him a final look before leaving and it’s just the two of you after what felt like so long. You’re both standing awkwardly far apart from one another, Eddie expecting you to question the situation.

“You wanna play D’n’D?” You blurt out.

Eddie’s confused, letting out a dry laugh. “What?”

You crouch down, pulling out the board game placed on the shelf of the coffee table. You shake it around to entice him. “I’m not exactly sure how to play but I was hoping you could teach me.”

He had the urge to ask you if you’d witnessed any of what had happened before but seeing you smile so warmly at him made him feel at ease. “It’s a pretty long set up. I’d have to tell you about the rules and you’d have to make a character. Are you sure you’d have time for all that?”

“I’d make all the time in the world for you, Eds,” You admitted. You should have been blushing being so open to tell him this but you weren’t ashamed. You wanted him to know that you did value the time you got to spend with him. You wanted him to know that you enjoyed hanging out with him regardless of the article. “Now sit your ass down and help me with this, will ya?”

His mood changed and he’s smiling that famous smile. He sits on the ground beside you. “I didn’t know you cared for this stuff.”

“I didn���t know you still liked this stuff. Seeing your smile, though, proves to me that you’re definitely a huge nerd.” You nudge him with your elbow.

“So are you.” He taunts, nudging you back.

“You’re a bigger one, though.” You tease, throwing a game piece at him.

“Hey,” Eddie calls out, catching the piece. “This is limited edition.”

You ignore him, taking another game piece. “Can we begin already?”

“Let’s start with building your character. How you build your character determines the outcome of the game statistics.”

“Ooh! Could I be a halfling?”

He snorts. “You could be any species you want and that’s what you choose? Good luck with that. Just know that as Dungeon Master, I won’t go easy on you.”

“You nerd.” You giggled.

There’s a sense of comfort that growing between the two of you. You’d hoped this meant that Eddie could trust you enough to know that you’d never write about this in his exposé. There were some things just too personal to write about. His secret was safe with you and you’d happily put down your journal just to make him feel okay again.

By the end of the night, you and Eddie had laid on the couch together. You laid right beside him, bodies pressed against one another on the tight space. He’d drifted off before you, probably exhausted from caring for his mother going through her withdrawals.

Before you’d drifted off, you gaze at him and pressed your lips to his cheek. You were grateful to know every part of him. Hopefully, he’ll never fear to hide parts of his life from you again. You rest your head on his shoulder and let slumber take over.

—————

In the morning, you’d found yourself resting alone on the couch. You brought your head up, searching around. Eddie’s outside in the backyard, sitting by the pool. You can tell that he’s sad. You knew this could only mean that his mother had left again. Without a trace.

You go out to him, quietly sitting beside him. He looks at you then down at the water again, knee bent to his chest and hands resting over his knees. The silence is worth a thousand words.

“She’s gone,” He speaks up. “She left last night while we slept. She…she fucking told me she wanted to get better. That she’d be off that shit.”

He’s hurt. His voice began to raise, cracking a little as he tried to fight back from breaking down. “I’m not even angry that she stole money from me. But she told me that she wanted to be in my life again. I care for her this entire week and even after seeing how my life turned out…she still has no interest to know me as her son. I’m just another stranger. I don’t know why I always think that the next time will be different.”

You swallowed hard, continuing to listen intently. You could feel the anguish that he’s releasing and it made you hurt so badly for him that you wished you could shelter him from that pain. You’re compelled to hug him. So you do, jumping into his arms causing his back to hit the ground as you clutched around him from above.

“You’re amazing, Eddie Munson. If she’s not willing to see that, then you have me to help you see yourself the way I see you. Thank you for being you.”

He’s surprised by the embrace. He’s usually the one to initiate contact between you. He squeezes his arms tight around you as you straddle him in an even tighter embrace. When you pull away from the hug, your eyes lock on his. His eyes slightly wet as he looks at up at you through his lashes, lips parted.

He looks so damn kissable.

You hover your lips over his, your hands suddenly pinning his hands beside his head. You weren’t sure what had come over you. His eyes fluttering as you gently press your lips against his. Now you feel as if you believed ever line written in romance about feeling sparks during an intense kiss because you felt like fireworks had exploded in the back of your head the moment your lips touched. His lips were just the right amount of soft with enough of a roughness to them that gave you a feeling to savor.

Your hips grind into him without your knowledge until you’d heard Eddie groan against your lips. This felt wrong. Like you were taking advantage of him in his vulnerable state. You should stop. You let go of his hands attempting to pull away but you’d only given the reigns to a beast of a man. With his hands on either side of your face, he bucks up into you and you gasp, he uses this opportunity to shove his tongue in your mouth. Then, he lowers his hands to your hips guiding you against him. It felt so amazing. Even between the barriers of you shorts, you felt his hardness digging into you, beckoning for its freedom.

“No,” You moaned into the kiss. “No, please. We can’t.”

But he’s addicted. He’s suckling on your lips as if it were the sweetest he’s ever tasted. You push at his chest, breaking the kiss and the line of saliva between you.

You swing your leg around, keeping off him. He sits up and just as he cups your face to kiss you again, you turn your face to the side. Then, he tries to kiss you from that side, you turn again. He stares at you bewildered and annoyed.

“I can’t.” You whisper.

“Of course, you can’t.” He mutters angrily under his breath.

“I…” You began.

“It’s fine. We’ll forget it ever happened,” Eddie rushes out. “I’ll accept his apology, by the way.”

You blinked at him, lost.

“Jessie. I’ll accept his apology. That’s why you came to visit me, right?” He says a slight bitterness in his tone.

He wasn’t entirely wrong. You had come over to convince him to accept the apology. If the band hadn’t asked you to speak with him, you’d never known what Eddie had gone through. It didn’t meant that you didn’t care, though. You just wanted to give him his space.

“I almost didn’t knock on your door. I thought about giving you some space. Figured you were mad because of the way we left things the night we…did those sexual things. But I knocked anyway. I did it because I wanted to. Because I wanted to know if you were okay even if I was scared you’d be mad at me. I care about you. You’re my…you’re my friend.”

A flash of hurt skims his face for a moment before it quickly shifts to indifference. “I think I’d like to be alone.”

You opened your mouth to protest but quickly accepted his wish. It was fair. You’d only made things worse. So much for cheering him up. Nodding, you stand to your feet.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” You ask.

He shrugs. He was over this conversation with you. You sighed, looking down sadly at him before heading out. You couldn’t wrap your head around how it’s the perfect formula to concoct a great friendship between you two and yet all you could do was lead him on only to pull away at the very last second. It felt selfish that what you’d once accused him of doing was now something you were doing: playing mind games.

————

Day 14. Another week has gone by. The strain between you and Eddie’s relationship had only increased. Your writing suffering as a result. Your heart’s not in it the way it was when you both were playing off each other’s personalities. Everyone noticed the changes including your boss which only made the pressure lay thick on you. You didn’t have much time. You’re week three into this project. One more week left. If you couldn’t bring out your best, you’ll be in the background once again. You just couldn’t speak to him even when he’d decided to let bygones be bygones you had avoided him.

Today, Corroded Coffin will be leaving for their London tour. You were instructed to go along with. The coach bus waiting out front to take you all to the airport.

Chrissy pulls you into a hug. “Take all the pictures you could and don’t forget to call me.”

“I won’t forget. I’ll take so many pictures and I’ll call you so much it’ll feel like you’re there, too.” You promised.

“Great! Also, I got you a going away gift partly an apology gift for cockblocking you.”

You giggled. “Chrissy, you shouldn’t have.”

“No. No. This’ll be good. You’ll need this.” She rummages through her bag before she pulls out long gift-wrapped box.

You smiled as you ripped up the gift wrap then lips curve into a frown. “Chrissy! This is a dildo.” You whisper-yell.

“A vibrating one, too.” She smiles, widely.

“Why?”

“You told me you didn’t want to fuck Eddie. I don’t see why but I respect your choices. So, to sort of curb your horniness while you’re on this trip I bought you this.”

“You…are insane. I’m 100% convinced.”

Chrissy laughs. “For helping a friend get an orgasm anyway she can? This isn’t the 60s anymore, Y/n. It’s about time you pull up your big girl pants and gotten a sex toy.”

Eddie walks over to you both and you quickly hide the box behind your back. He silently greets you then looks over to Chrissy.

“I’ll bring you back a souvenir?” He addresses her.

“Make it a signed CD from Haven’s Fight. I heard they’re opening for your band and I’d like a personal signature from Haven.” Chrissy requests.

“Haven? The guy’s a fucking asshole.” Eddie scoffs.

“You think everyone’s an asshole,” Chrissy laughs before they come together for a hug. “Take care, okay? Make sure you keep my girl happy.”

“Yeahhh, we’ll see about that.” Eddie’s eyes shift to you and you instinctively look away.

“Let’s go, everyone! Time to hit the road!” Mel Thomas shouts.

You give a final goodbye to Chrissy before heading into the coach bus. You’d sit in a seat across from Eddie. Neither of you saying a word. Simply exchanging shy glances before looking anywhere but in front of you.

Judas Argo noticing the silence, sits in the seat beside you darting his eyes between you. Eddie slowly getting irritated.

“Can we help you?” Eddie asks.

“I’ve never seen the two of you this quiet. Usually, nothing could stop you from mouthing off at each other now all of a sudden your as solemn as Brit at a funeral.” Judas says.

“We don’t feel like talking. It’s not a big deal.”

“Fuck that! I’m not going back to my home with two boring fucks. We’re going to liven it up in here. Jessie, cue the radio. Look for something tasteful.”

“Jude, I swear to god…” Eddie groans.

The radio switches on and “Stayin’ Alive” by The Bee Gees begins to play and Judas stands up, giving his doing the disco pointing dance. “I know you know this one, princess. No one can resist this song. Even metalheads like us.”

He takes your hand forcing you to stand. You stand awkwardly as he dances around you, trying to gain your balance from the slightly rocky bus. Then, the chorus begins and you couldn’t help but sing along following his dance.

Judas smiles widely, impressed by your moves. “See? Disco’s not dead after all.”

“Come on, Eds. Get up!” Judas encourages.

“Noooo.” Eddie protests.

Judas rolls his eyes, frustrated at his bratty bandmate. “Grab the cunt, boys.”

Eddie shoots a threatening look and warns them. “Stay the fuck away from me, dudes.”

Jessie and Mel ignore all warnings and take Eddie by the arms, yanking him to his feet. Eddie stands there with his arms crossed as you all sang and danced. His eyes land on you carelessly dancing and singing away. You looked so happy that he can feel the corners of his lips began to twitch into a smile. After some nudging from his mates, he joined along in the singing and soon you were all belting the lyrics as if it were a heavy metal song itself.

You and Eddie had even sung the chorus to each other like you’d never kept your distance from each other. It felt like old times again. Even as you boarded the plane, the two of you talked and laughed as if you’d known each other forever.

—————

You were unpacking your things in your hotel room, feeling jet lag from the flight. You could use the rest before you and the boys went sightseeing around the city for tonight. Throwing on the Hellfire Club T-shirt, you entered the bed. Although you were extremely tired, you’re still very alert. Then, you’re mind drifts back to the sex toy that Chrissy had given you.

God, I hate her for being right sometimes.

You go retrieve the box from your bag. Opening the box, you carefully slide out the pink vibrating dildo laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. It was quite a decent size. A size that you weren’t accustomed to but it wouldn’t necessarily be uncomfortable.

You press the button on its side and it starts to vibrate erratically nearly jumping out of your hand. Then, you hear a knock on your door.

Just my fucking luck.

Switching it off and hiding the object under your sheets, you walk briskly to the door. You swing the door just a peek.

Eddie.

“Hey, I can come in?”

“Errmm, now’s not a good….” He interrupts your protests and pushes through, taking you aback. You scoffed, following after him. “Excuse me.”

“You’re excused,” He smirks before throwing his body onto your mattress. For a brief second, his eyes roam your body, taking in the fact that your wearing his shirt. It’s not the first time he’s seen you wearing it but each time it gives him the chance to burn it into his memory for later recall. “So where do you think you and I should go?”

“We’re sightseeing with the boys. Remember?”

“Ughh, I thought we’d be going our separate ways.”

“Nope! Sticking with the group. It’s only fair.”

“Maybe for you but—” Eddie cuts himself off, wiggling around in your bed and made a face of discomfort and confusion. A faint vibration noise sounds from under him.

Your eyes widened, face beginning to flush as you remembered what you’d buried right under him.

Fuck, Fuck, Fucking Fuck.

Eddie pulls out the item that was vibrating away at his back. He holds it up in the air, eyes sizing it up before landing on you.

His face slowly pulls into a cheshire cat grin and you quickly, sputtered you explanation. During your incoherent blubbering, Eddie slowly stands up from the bed and calculatingly stalks over to you. “I-It’s not mine. Well, it is mine. But it was a gift from Chrissy. I wasn’t even going to use it. I was just c-curious a-and I was inspecting it.”

“You were…inspecting?” He asks, clearly amused.

Your temperature at an all time high. You were sure water could evaporate from the heat giving off on your face. “Y-yes. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yeah, I find it incredibly hard to believe. You know what I think…I think you’re using it to replace me.”

How the fuck does he know these things?

“Maybe,” He began, stepping closer to you. “Maybe you’re using this to train yourself for something more. It’s a pity. It’s not even the right size. You’d have to get something much, much bigger if you really want to handle me.”

You gulped before shaking off his words, walking up to him confidently. “Give it.”

“Come and get it.”

It was deja vu except this time you know what it’s like to kiss those sinful lips. You rush him again only instead of dodging you, he let’s you come at him full force. The moment your hand wraps around the toy, he tugs forward, making you crash into him and your lips meet.

You melt, all the pent up tension releasing as well. You test the waters, intertwining your fingers into his curls. He deepens the kiss, walking forward. The back of your knees hit the edge of your bed and you both fall onto the mattress.

“You look so sexy in my shirt,” His hands roam down your body before cupping your pussy causing you to moan. “Should I use that toy on you? Get you nice and ready.”

Taking the toy and switching it on, he drags it over your stomach before bringing it between your inner thighs. The vibrations causing you to shiver as he brings it closer and closer to your core. He hovers it over your sensitive bud and despite your underwear being the only thing between direct contact, you can feel your wetness begin to pool. Then, he presses the vibrator against it and you yelp at the feeling, unable to squirm away.

You wrap a hand around his wrist, trying to pull it away. “Please…”

He pulls up your shirt to get a better view of the scene between your legs. “Such a pretty sight.”

“Eddie, I can’t do this.”

“Sure you can. Look how wet you’re getting.” He growls in your ear making your back arch and the vibrator presses harder into your sensitive bud.

Your eyes roll back, biting your lip at the sensation. Moan after moan, tumbling from your lips like you’re a broken record. His heavy erection against your thigh signaling his enjoyment in your reactions. He sucks at a sensitive spot on your neck and you’re convinced that he’s trying to end your existence because no way could anything feel this good.

He’s reduced you to a panting mess and you can see bursts of light exploding behind your eyes. Your heart rate quickens as the pleasure builds and builds.

“E-ed—I’m really, really close,” You mewled. “Gonna cum.”

“You are?” He asks, mockingly.

“Yes, yes. Mmm, fuck!” The coil within you ravels itself in a twisted knot. You’re back completely off the bed and your lips part. Eddie studying your face. You’re on the brink of an earth shattering release when he cruelly pulls away.

You immediately whined at the loss. It was evil. He’s a monster. You hate him. You hate him! Why is he laughing at you misery?

“You should see the look on your face.”

“Why’d you do that?!” You didn’t mean to sound so desperate but you were. He’d ripped away what could’ve been such an intense awakening for you.

“Because I can,” He simply says, pulling off you. “Call it a punishment, if you will.”

Taking a pillow, you strike him with it repeatedly. He gets up from the bed, trying to get away from your attacks.

“Okay, okay. Let it out.” He chuckles.

“Get out.”

“You’re that mad?”

“Yes! Now go!” You pout, opening the door and pointing out.

Eddie knows he’s getting to you. He’s slowly chipping away at your walls and it was only a matter of time before you crumble. He bows as he makes his exit. “My room’s just across from yours in case you’re ready for the real thing.”

“You wish.” Your voice goes against your stance as it uttered the phrase in a breathy whisper.

“If you say so.” He shrugs, unconvinced.

You closed the door behind you, sliding down as your knees buckled from weakness.God those lips. Those very soft… full…luscious lips. That fucking sexy voice when he’s turned on. His weight on you…

Okay, maybe I’ll be ‘inspecting’ that toy a little more now.

—————

You hardly got any sleep before the outing. Countless times you had to keep yourself from jumping out of bed and ending up in his. You’re at your breaking point and you weren’t sure at all how you’d gotten this far.

After dressing up in simple denim jeans and a corset shirt, you let your hair down and took a look at yourself in the mirror. You were going for a rockstar girlfriend look in an attempt to veer off your more conservative style.

Then, you were off heading out to meet the group and receiving wolf whistles. In the corner of your eye, you spot a possessive look on Eddie’s face, hopefully a repeat of the fight would not be in the cards for tonight.

The boys were talking over each other, excitedly about the activities they planned for the night, all of which you weren’t looking forward to.

“Patsy’s has great drinks and the hottest women. I know from my last visit here.” Mel says.

“Not to mention the giant tits ok some of these girls. Wouldn’t mind taking one home.”

You gagged. They talked about women like picking out a dog from a shelter. You follow far behind the boys, Eddie soon falling behind after next to you.

Tapping you on the shoulder, he points to a little music shop across the street. You shrugged, not understanding the big deal. He takes your hands and then your both running across the street towards it. His bandmates not noticing a thing.

Entering the shop, Eddie looks around before turning to you. He’d brought you here with no reason to actually be there.

“Why did we leave the boys? Don’t you wanna go to Patsy’s?”

“Pssh, nah. It’s overrated. Plus, I figured you needed a little rescuing.”

“I actually wouldn’t have minded.”

“We can go bac—”

“No! We’re good!”

“I thought so,” He laughs. He picks up a Jimmy Hendrix vinyl record. “Great guitarist. One of my influences aside from Metallica. Would’ve loved to play guitar with that guy. Damn.”

You spot a pair of sample headphone and it gives you an idea. “Let’s play a little game. I’ll put these on and you talk to me.”

“Wow, I’m boring you that much.” He scoffs.

“No, moron. It’s a game I used to play as a kid. Whenever my mom would take me to the music store, I’d go to the tester headphone section, blast the music super loud, and I’d try to guess what people are saying. I’d gotten so good at reading lips, my mom would put a hand over her mouth whenever she wanted to speak privately with my dad.”

“I think I’d have to see it to believe.”

“Okay. Prepare to be amazed.” You place them over your ears, giggling as you raised the volume of the rock music playing in them.

Eddie starts talking but he’s talking so fast that it’s practically gibberish. Then you realize that he’s actually speaking nonsensical phrases.

“Be serious.” You laughed.

You read his lips. “Aw, you got me.”

You repeated it out loud. He’s impressed. Then, he utters another phrase.

“Do you like…pies?” You laughed, a bit confused. You mimic his mouth movement. “Oh wait, ‘Do you like pizza’ is what you said.”

He nods, smiling at your accuracy. Then, he utter one last phrase and your smile fades. ‘I like you’ he says. You felt a sense of sadness wash over you knowing that this was only for the game and not something you’d actually hear from his mouth genuinely.

You pull off the headphones, Eddie noticing your the shift in your mood. “Everything okay?”

You don’t answer. You walk out of the store into the street, not even thinking to look back to know if he’s following close behind.

He rans after, catching up and putting a hand to your shoulder to make you face him. “I don’t understand. What’d I do wrong? Why are you avoiding me?”

“It’s nothing. And I’m not avoiding you.” You swipe sway his hand from your shoulder then walked away.

“She then proceeds to avoid me,” He throws up his hands, voice raising. “You’ve got to be the most frustrating woman I’ve ever met. It’s like your a different person every other hour.”

You stop in your tracks, pointing at him. “Oh and are you any better?”

“Least I’m not leading you on. You want me then ya don’t. You’re constantly leading me on and it doesn’t feel fucking good, Y/n. I feel like shit.”

“How can I feel anything for you when you don’t really like me? All of this casanova player shit is just to get in my pants. Then, what’ll happen once you do?”

“Is that all you think of me?”

“Only because that’s what you think of me!”

“You don’t know what I think of you!”

“Don’t need to! I’ve seen the way you and your bandmates talk about girls!”

“That’s not who I am! Maybe come down from that fucking high horse you sit on so you can actually see things a lot clearer!”

“Fuck you!”

“You’d love that!”

“I’m not—” The rumbling from the sky cuts you off and not long after drops of rain began to trickle down on you both. The nearest shops were too far from all the walking you’d done and you silently curse yourself.

Eddie points to a designated phone booth, taking your hand and you both run over to it. Shutting the door behind you, you were both officially sheltered from the rain.

Eddie stares at you and point at you face. You peer at your reflection the the glass. Your mascara’s running so much for the cool rockstar girlfriend look.

“I look like a sad panda.”

“It’s kinda cute.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Or what? You gonna leave? I’m sick of this back and forth. Do you like me or not? I like you and it feels like I’m alone in this.”

“I kissed you first, didn’t I?”

“Because you felt sorry for me. You took pity on me about my mom and kissed me.”

“It’s not true! You don’t know how I feel about you either.”

“Then just tell me! Spare me this push and pull because I can’t take it.”

“Fine, I like you,” You admittedly shouted. “I like you, Eddie. I like you a lot sooner than I’m willing to admit. I wanted you for so long.”

“Then, what’s with you? Why’re you being so fucking distant?”

“Because I have a career to uphold. My career is all I have. Even if you were to fuck me and dump me the next second, I’d always have my career. I don’t want to be another one of your conquests. I don’t want to be a pawn to whatever game your playing. If I become this way for you, I’d hate you forever. So to remember you fondly even after this article’s over, I don’t want to go any further.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“How am I supposed to believe that? You’re a rockstar. You make lists of the countless women you’ve fucked. I’m nowhere near you’re type. I know you like Chrissy and you’re probably using me to get to her.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?! How could you even say these things without batting an eye?”

“It’s true and you know it, Eddie,” You sighed. “You think this is what you want. That—that this is fun and exciting because I push you away and you take me as some kind of challenge for you. But then, you’ll get your way. Then…you’ll have me and you’ll get bored of me.”

His eyes are filled with hurt, pleading silently to stop the horrible things you’re saying. Yet you continue, “I’m no rockstar. I’m not some pretty former cheerleader you once had a crush on. I’m just me. A journalist looking for her own footing in the world. Once this article’s over…by next week you’ll forget I’ve ever existed.”

“You couldn’t be more goddamn wrong! You sound so heartless, you couldn’t even take a chance to see from my side of things! I fucking like you, Y/n! If that makes me some kind of a monster with a motive against you then I’m sorry you feel that way.”

“I didn’t say that!”

“You practically did!”

“You’re mishearing me. Let me elaborate!”

“You’ve said enough!”

A bang on the glass of the phone booth causes you and Eddie’s widened eyes to turn to the intruder. Looking down and see a shorter elderly man dressed in a dapper pin-striped suit, carrying an yellow umbrella.

“You kids gonna keep bickering or could I make a phone call?” The old man asks.

“S-sorry.” You and Eddie step out of the booth.

The old man hands Eddie the umbrella. “Wait here.”

He head inside making a quick call leaving you and Eddie standing outside in quiet embarrassment at your public outbursts.

“He’s nice to give us his umbrella.” You say, shyly looking down at your boots.

“Yeah, I suppose. He’s well dressed, too. Pretty expensive suit. I’d say he’s in a mob.” Eddie deduces.

“You’ve got an active imagination.”

“I’m serious.”

The old man finishes his call, stepping out the booth and looks between you two.

“You two lovebirds were at each other’s throats in there. You alright?”

“Yeah.” “No.” You and Eddie say simultaneously.

“The gentleman says ‘no’.” The old man says to you.

“He just likes to say everything opposite from me.” You say.

“No, I don’t.” Eddie denies.

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Ya know what, you two walk with me to the diner. We’re gonna have a little chat and settle this.” The old man waves a hand over.

For an old man, he was pretty fast. Eddie trying to keep up holding the umbrella over him, leaving you both soaking in the process.

When you reached the diner, Eddie and you sit side by side in a booth. The old man sat across from you,

“Oh shit, Eddie. You’re in public? You could be attacked at any moment.”

“No worries. Brits don’t bother the celebrities. Francis’ll be okay. And if anyone dare tries anything, they’ll answer to me.” The old man says.

“You know Francis?” You asked.

“Oh yeah, the Mrs loves his music.”

“Old people listen to metal?” Eddie questions.

“She’s anything but old, bucko. The woman’s timeless. Ya see, I’ve been with this woman for 30 years. Best years of my life are with her. All because I worked the courage to talk to her and tell her how I felt. If I was ever a pansy about it, I would’ve never even gotten her bloody name. My lesson for you both is to quit beating around the bush. You’re young and you don’t want to waste your life regretting what could’ve been.”

Eddie scoffs, crossing his arms. “Yeah, tell that to her. I’ve never met a girl who hated being favored this much.”

“Well, good sir, could you please explain to this man next to me that I’m not pursuing my feelings for a man who belongs to the world.”

“Oh, so now I’m just a sex maniac in your eyes? I can’t just like you and only you?”

“You both hush up,” The old man orders and you both immediately fell silent. “It’s clear you both are fancy one another. No denying it. If you were honest about these emotions from the get go, this shit show would be a thing of the past. What’s your name young lady?”

“Y/n.”

“Y/n, you like this man?”

You glance timidly at him, he searches your face. “I do.”

“And you rockstar?”

“I do, too.”

“Then, that’s all that matters. Stop focusing on the things that could go wrong or you won’t enjoy the present. You think I’d made it that far if I kept worrying whether she’d leave me or whether we’d fall out of love? Live in the moment, youngsters. That is the secret to love,” The man looks at the window and there’s a limo parked outside for him. He stands throwing a wad of cash on the table. “Keep the umbrella and quit arguing in phone booths.”

Then, the old man steps out. His chauffeur carrying an umbrella in one and and the other opening the door for the man. You and Eddie waved at him through the window as he drove off.

“He’s definitely in the mob.” Eddie states, breaking the silence.

——————

It was an interesting night that you two hadn’t expected to go down. You both admitted to liking each other, blushing every now and then when you caught each other staring. You made it back to the hotel, calling the night early.

Standing in the middle of the hallway, you were fiddling for the keys to your room when you decided to stop and face Eddie.

“I’m sorry if it sounded like I was calling you a sex addict. I’ve just been trying to convince myself you’re bad for me but you come all charismatic and cute and you make me want you.”

“To be honest, I see where you come from. Any sane person would be wary to date a rockstar.”

“I’m definitely not sane,” You laughed, deliriously. “I think I’ve lost my mind.”

“Me too. You make me crazy,” He leans against his door. “Remember that night I said I saw you in the crowd? I wasn’t looking because you were front row. I looked at you because…you remind me of home. I don’t see that much on the road. I’m used to this fast life. But with you, I felt like I could be there again. I wasn’t Francis. I was Eddie.”

You eyes glimmer with happiness. He notices this, face crimson red.

“That was lame to say that.” He says, rubbing at the back if his neck.

“No, I get it. And I really appreciate you telling me this.”

He clears his throat. “Of course.”

“Hey, Eds.”

“Hmm?”

“I want you. I want you as mine. Even if only for tonight. Whatever you decide—whatever happens between us, I’m okay with it. But like that man said, life’s too short to beat around the bush and I don’t want to regret not having you.”

“You sure? What about your celibacy?”

“I’d break it for you.”

Eddie caresses your cheek. “How about you let me take you on a date tomorrow? It’ll be the last day we get to have this time alone before the concert. Let’s enjoy the entire day. Then after I’ll take you back to my room and I’ll take my time showing you how much I care.”

“As much as I like that…I’d like something now. After that little scene in my hotel room, all I want to do is feel you on me.” You’d never been so bold. That old man’s a wizard.

Eddie swings his door open hand, resting on one side of the door frame. “I’ll give you a little preview of the fun we’ll have. All you gotta do is step inside. But once you do…you’ll be mine.”

“I’m more than okay with that.”

“I need a verbal yes. Tell me you’ll be mine.”

“I’m yours.” You say with no hesitation.

“Then come inside. Let me show you what I can do for you.”

You step into his room and he shuts the door behind you. His demeanor changing as he wraps his arms around your waist, picking you up and setting you on the kitchen island table.

Your shoes are the first to go then your jeans and underwear. He’s staring down at you glistening core as if looking at Heaven itself.

“So damn pretty.” He whispers.

He lowers himself enough so that his face met closer with your core. He kneads your thick thighs, his rigid rings making marks against the skin as he squeezed tighter and tighter.

He scatters wet kisses across your inner thighs and you nearly came in that instant. His eyes never leave yours, watching you squirm under his touch (though he’s barely touched you at all).

Dragging his lips from the inner thigh, they latch around the fat, sensitive nub sucking hard and your hips buck and this sudden act.

While one hand wrapped around your thigh, keeping you from crushing his head between them the other hand flicks around with her clit. Eddie devours your cunt as if you were his last meal, slurping at the excess juices and then sucking on the folds that still drip with your essence.

“You taste so good, little vixen. So damn sweet.” His words, despite being muffled by his mouth serving your pussy, sent another pool of liquid what seeping out of you.

Those lips were made to be ridden. His entire face was. So you did, grabbing the top of his hair you grind your pussy into his face. You’re riding his nose that rubbed in just the right spots against you. The familiar sensation of the bursts of lights behind your eyes returns only this time this was the kind of orgasm that scared you.

You feared that if you allow yourself release you’d either lose your mind or your life. You wanted to let it subside, give you a more easier orgasm to handle but that’s not what Eddie lived by. He wanted you taking it all and full force. When you tried to pull your hand away from his hair, he placed a hand on top your locking them there and making you continue grinding you wetness in his face.

“It’s too much. Too much, Eddie! I feel like I’ll die.” You panted.

“You can take it,” He mutters against your thigh. “You’re a big girl.”

He flicks his tongue up and down with an incredible speed that send you convulsing. The tongue you’d always dreamed of between your legs whenever he’d stick it our during his shows. Now you were living every fans dream only you were certain he’d tasted you in a way he’s never done with anyone else.

“Ohmm, my gah, fuck. I’m gonna, uh—I’m gonna cum, master. Oh shiit.”

He groans at the name you’d given him. It simply slipped without you recognizing but you were too much in bliss to be embarrassed by it. Then, he sucks your clit with a combination tongue circling motion and you combust.

You convulsions racked so heavily through you that it was a miracle your head hadn’t bang against the table. Real tears stream down you face as you tried to hold on to something to get a grip on reality. You pulled hard at his hair and he lets out a long drawn our moan.

Once you come to, you are still slightly trembling and trying to gain your breaths. Eddie stands, there’s a raging hard on in his jeans.

“I’m regretting this,” Eddie begins. “I’m not sure now how I can wait until tomorrow.”

“Then, don’t.” You say exhausted, lying boneless against the kitchen table.

“No, no. I’ll be waiting. Counting the goddamn hours if it makes this faster,” He groans. ��You’ll have to leave now, though, or I might not be able to hold our longer.”

You sighed, hopping off the counter and your legs feel like jelly. You shimmy on your clothes and headed for the door.

Why was he now trying to be a gentleman, when you wished for him to be the freak you’d heard constant rumors about?

“Can I at least get a goodnight kiss?” You say, licking your lips.

“No. I swear any more contact with you and you’ll be with your hands tied taking every inch of—fucking hell, woman. Just leave!”

“Okay. Okay!” You say, putting your hands up in surrender.

It felt weird being on the other side of this dynamic. The tables have surely turned.

Taglist: @that-idiot125 @strangerthingsstories5255

@haylaansmi @tlclick73 @chcolateeyelver

@apolixyan @micheledawn1975 @maystecc @gay-weirdo262772 @itswormtrain @httpmedxsa

@3m0xbunn1 @bebe0701

@lokiofasgard616 @joeyfilth @secretdryrose

@sammararaven @cherrytree69 @bimbobaggins69 @nicolaj1978 @idgafboutyou @eddiesgffff @briasnow-blog @sweetdreamer1010 @sleepyghostygirl @babeyglo @idkidknemore @e0509 @brittney69 @samunson83 @hellfire-puppet

@moonisu @mopeymopeymouse @lluviamg06

[whumpwillow]

god i love the trope where a deity / other powerful entity is held captive by a human (or group of humans) like here’s this ancient, powerful thing who can do this you can’t even comprehend, except he’s been captured and now he just sits there in his containment, sulking. looking forlornly at you 

[whump-it-like-its-hot]

Okay but

Whumpee getting shoved back against a wall so hard it knocks the air out of them <333333

Whumpee getting shoved against a wall and smacking their head hard and everything goes black for a moment, and then when they come to moments later they’re on the ground, everything is weird and blurry and loud and they’re left clutching their head and curling up and whimpering from the pain and everything else and they don’t even know what’s going at that moment but their hand feels weird and sticky and warm, and they feel sick but they also feel tired, so so tired and they want Caretaker, where the hell is Caretaker, they need help please and hmmgmmfggfmgnfm <3333333333333333333333333333

[eternal-moss]

THESE TWO.

[coffeeshib]

The thing is…

You can kinda see that Ava has the same cute, energized, Golden Retriever, hopeful, loving, whipped, strong, loyal, sorta depressed, cool mood of Kara and Bea has the same professional, stiff, deeply intelligent, yearning, self deprecating, witty, clever, nerdy, extremely adoring mood of Lena… (and also the way they all have that silent but consuming and repressed rage… mhhh 🫠)

And well… the thing is that now I can’t unsee it. Very different characters with very different past but God help me same energy.

The way they love each other in this tender way makes my brain hurt and my heart jump. It’s just the way for different reasons they are both each other first real love and for the first time they can admit it, it’s fucking shattering. Also I love hard pining.

(PS the only real difference is that Lena drinks and curse like a sailor LOL)

nooo bc you're so right, they share similar traits!!! i instantly thought of this specific tweet, it THEM

[arecaceae175]

Whumptober Day 3: "Make it stop"

Featuring Sky and Legend. Read on AO3 here.

Whump rating: 1/5

Warnings: chronic pain flare, chronic illness flare, downplaying illness (only very mildly)

October prompt info (including the whump scale) here!

The creak of the door broke Legend from his focus. He scowled slightly as the pain shoved its way to the forefront of his mind. He sighed and let his book fall onto his chest as he rode the wave of pain. 

“Hi,” Sky said. 

Legend glanced up. Sky was shuffling into the room, moving slowly and carefully. He carried a tray with two bowls of soup, two cups, and a steaming teapot. 

“Lunch?” Sky asked as he set the tray on the table beside the bed. Legend’s stomach growled, so he took that as his answer. 

“Apparently, yes,” he said with a glare to his stomach.

Sky smiled and moved to help Legend sit up. His joints felt like they were full of mud and knives, moving stiffly and slowly, with plenty of pain. Legend was breathing heavily by the time he was seated upright against the headboard. 

Sky hummed with empathy. “Bad one, huh?”

Legend tried to manage an incredulous glare, but Sky’s face softened, so the effect probably wasn’t quite what he intended. 

“Worst flare I can remember,” Legend said. 

“Do you need anything else?” Sky asked as he prepared the soup and the tea. 

Legend huffed a bitter laugh. “Can you make it stop?”

Sky smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Sorry.”

Sky pulled the table close enough for Legend to reach, then handed him his soup and spoon.

The spoon was one of the wooden ones Sky carved for bad days like this. The handle was thick and round with a hole in the center, so he could rest it on his hand instead of relying on his grip. The cup at the end had raised sides so the liquid would stay inside even with his tremors. Sky and Wild both had similar ones for their bad days, though Wild usually just used his other hand. 

Sky picked up his soup, and Legend noticed his spoon was his adaptive one as well. Legend narrowed his eyes as Sky moved to the other side of the bed. He was hunched slightly, had dark bags under his eyes, and moved much more slowly than normal. Sky let out a deep, weary sigh of relief when he made it onto the bed beside Legend. 

“Why are you helping me?” Legend asked before he could stop himself. “You’re going to make it worse.”

Sky’s brows furrowed, and his spoon paused on the way out of the soup. “What do you mean?”

“Did you tell anyone you’re having a bad pain day too?” Legend asked. 

Sky’s shoulders fell and he shook his head. “No. It’s not pain, really, more like… blegh, everywhere. Either way, it’s not as bad as you, right now. I didn’t want to worry anyone.”

Legend’s heart panged. “It’s not a competition.”

“No, I know. I just…” Sky shrugged, and looked up at Legend sheepishly through his bangs. “I didn’t want to worry anyone.”

“Well, thank you. For helping, even though you also feel like a pile of shit,” Legend said. Sky chuckled, and Legend felt his heart soar. 

“After you finish your soup, you’re staying to get some sleep, birdbrain,” Legend said. 

“I take birdbrain as a compliment, you know,” Sky said with a wry smile as he settled more comfortably on the bed. 

Legend rolled his eyes and ignored the taunt in favor of digging into his soup. 

[simping-lya]

I miss drawing comics so this is some practice so I get use to drawing them :]

[two-red-lungs]

A Different Kind of Kindness

Everybody has a different love language, the holy bible that is Cosmopolitan magazine says. You’ve never bothered figuring out yours. Deep down, you already knew. To acknowledge it would change everything. (Eddie/Reader)

Word count: 2000

Lingering between every clique of people means you end up “knowing” a lot of people and not really befriending any of them. But it also means you brush shoulders with all sorts of folks: like, through your geeky calculus class friend, the infamous freak and notorious drug dealer Eddie Munson. 

You talked occasionally over the first month of senior year, in passing, when he said hi to your math friend. He didn’t seem nearly as overtly demonic as others made him out to be. Just kind of a loudmouth. Fun, though. Made you smile and roll your eyes.

One day, sitting out on a picnic table and doing some calculus homework revisions with your study buddy while soaking up the last rays of late autumn sun, Munson slammed down onto the bench opposite you and derailed the conversation completely. 

He was a firecracker. He joked. You laughed.

And from then on, lunches were with Eddie and his ever-rotating small cast of freaks and geeks: outside, or on the bleachers, or in the cafeteria. Hey, it was free entertainment. Never a dull moment with him around.

Although, as time went on, his eating habits... worried you. Munson was like a seagull. During lunch he’d always pull out some sort of weird food- a packet of peanuts, or a whole sleeve of ritz crackers, or a plastic-wrapped stick of gas station beef jerky.

And he never finished any of it. Picking at it idly as he raucously laughed and snickered, boots going tap tap tap against the table leg, slouched back in his chair. He’d get so distracted most of the time whatever scraps he’d brought would be completely forgotten: and then, like clockwork, he’d excuse himself five minutes before lunch was over to go have a smoke.

Basically, the guy ran on nicotine, caffeine, and processed flour. It worried you. Wouldn’t it worry anyone? Wasn’t it a normal human thing to do, to be off put by that?

One day your idle discomfort with the prospect just... got the better of you. Overrode your usual careful rationality, your strategic social distancing.

Eddie wound up walking next to you, headed for the usual cafeteria table, and you rummaged around in your brown bagged lunch as you fell into step. Pulling out half of the plastic wrapped sandwich you’d made for yourself: a BLT, bacon perfectly crisp, toasted to goddamn perfection.

“Hey, um. I’m not super hungry today.” You eventually said. “I don’t want this to go to waste, though. Want half? I’ll just chuck it, if you don’t. It’s fine.”

The tip of a pink tongue wetted his lips, the rocker looking taken aback. You both never really... talked to one another. Not one-on-one. Only around other people. He got himself together quickly. “Uh, sure. Yeah. Thanks, man.” And then he was getting his name crowed by the table of his friends and was loping over there, all smiles and rattling chains, sandwich in hand. 

That was the first day you ever saw him, like, properly eat. Long guitarist fingers unwrapping the cling-wrap as he talked and then bam, it was gone, eaten in seconds. No fuss, no distractions. 

It made you feel weirdly... self-satisfied. You brushed the feeling off, turning to your calculus partner and trading notes over the sticky plastic tabletops.

The next week you whistled sharply in the hallway, and Eddie’s wild head turned around in the noise, just in time for him to catch the shiny foil-wrapped sandwich flying through the air at him. He blinked, objectively confused.

You played it cool. “Made an extra for my dad. He didn’t want it.”

“Shit, I’m not complaining.” There was that stupid grin again, wide under dark chocolate eyes. 

And then the sandwich was gone again, his lunch of a singular syrupy fruit cup forgotten, and Eddie licked the pad of his thumb to get the last drop of mustard off it as he argued with a friend.

You didn’t know why you wanted to keep doing it. You just knew that you did. That it made you feel warm, even when half the words you traded with the guy were jabs and you really only hung out when others were present.

It became a habit. The norm, twice a week, clockwork. You pointedly didn’t acknowledge it and neither did he: thank god for small mercies. You didn’t know what you were gonna say if he brought it up. You don’t have to feed me like a fucking pigeon, man. I’m not a charity case.

But he never said that, too polite and warm-hearted under his manic smile and looming presence to even hint at it. Took it all in stride. Seemed pleased every time, trading looks with you from under his fringe that went on just a moment too long, until you chickened out and looked down at your hands laced on the table.

People didn’t do things for Eddie. Not for free. Not unless they wanted something. You knew that. Knew that’s why he looked at you with equal parts wariness and satisfaction.

The weird, indirect, pseudo-friendship continued. A whistle to grab his attention, an extra sandwich or a tupperware salad arcing his way, him catching it with ease and a grin.

Sometimes, your other acquaintances asked why you packed double lunches so damn often. It was easier to say ‘force of habit’ than it was to say you were completely fucking hooked on the poodle-haired outcast’s smile.

He was trading back, now, in November. Little indirect things. An open extended invite to see his band play, free of charge, made in front of a group of his friends. A keychain he made a big deal of ‘raffling’ off at the table and ultimately gave to you. All gestures hidden under the guise of being for everyone. But they were always for you. You knew it. He knew it. 

Neither of you said anything.

“Why don’t I ever get free food?” Dustin whined, gesturing miserably to his wet cafeteria pizza when you plopped down and handed Eddie a reuben, not even looking at him, digging into your own identical one.

Eddie held up a finger to hush the young man, chewing thoughtfully. “Shh, shut up. No talky-talky. Your words are ruining my sandwich.”

The table erupted into lapping waves of chuckles. You hid your pleased flush behind a gulp of water.

Another week, another whistle and a sandwich. But this time, ring-clad fingers in the corner of your vision slid a ziplock bag of potato chips in front of you. You glanced up to the head of the table. Eddie, not interrupting the very intense conversation unfurling between the other table members, wetted his lips with his tongue and lifting the corner of his sandwich bread, showing you the concoction inside.

“Do it.” He hiss-whispered over the conversation, pointing the potato chips tucked into his sandwich.

You wrinkled your nose. “Gross.”

“No, man, it’s good. Trust me, alright?”

Two chips went into your perfectly composed chicken salad sandwich. Oh. Damn. The crunch brought it to a whole other level. You looked back at Eddie and he was already slowly nodding, a grin spreading across his face: you like it, his expression read. 

You rolled your eyes, pressing your lips together to stop from smiling. I do, yours said back. He bumped your elbow with his playfully and you shook your head, holding in a laugh.

“No man, you can get all sorts of chicks with these things. They’re like codexes.” Your math partner said loudly, gesturing with the Cosmopolitan magazine at the other table occupants even as they scoffed. “Seriously! What, you don’t want all the help you geeks can get?” He cracked it open, thumbing through pages and starting to read aloud.

You tuned him out, staring down at the fluorescent reflection on the table and taking quiet satisfaction in how Munson always pulled out of the conversations and focused on your cooking, basically shoving your food into his face as fast as he could. It was one of the rare times you saw him quiet.

“The languages of love. Oh, here we go. Quality time.” Your study buddy continued, nose in the magazine. “You like romantic time spent together. Cuddling, hiking, or romantic dates at the movies are good candidates for you.” The other tablemembers cooed sarcastically and he snickered. “Physical touch. Kisses, hugs, and warm embraces are your language of preference. Consider talking to your sweetheart about ways to spend more time together with skin on skin.”

When he waggled his eyebrows you couldn’t help but snort into your sandwich.

“Next up, gifts: giving and receiving. One of the most common love languages. You show your affection with little tokens given your sweetheart. Fun trivia fact: the most common method of gift-giving is through food.”

You went completely still, freezing up like someone had dumped a cooler of water down on your head. Everyone else was still laughing, talking, poking fun at the magazine, blowing past the last topic. 

But in the corner of your eye you saw guitarist hands that had also fallen motionless.

Looking sideways at Eddie was a mistake.

Because he was looking back, those beautiful doe-eyes wide and completely blindsided, lips softly parted. Something clearly registering for him.

Oh shit. Oh shit, that’s totally what this has been, this entire time. You abruptly stood, heart racing, and excused yourself, lunch forgotten. Because what friend brings their other friend lunch so often, what friend wakes up a half-hour early to poke around in the fridge and think ‘hmm, what would make this person smile today’?

It wasn’t a friend thing. It was not a friend thing. 

Jesus. You’d been awkwardly flirting with him for months and hadn’t even let yourself recognize it.

You burst out of the hallway doors and into the cold November air, pale sunlight reflecting off of rows of parked cars, thinking stupid stupid stupid over and over again. You hugged yourself in the chill. 

Were you crushing on Eddie Munson? Eccentric, smiley metalhead, never afraid to speak his mind? Completely and utterly fine with being his truest self, not giving a shit about what anybody thought?

...God help you, you were.

And then the front school doors slammed open behind you and you nearly jumped out of your damn skin, heart flipping upside-down in your chest, spinning around to come face-to-face with Eddie’s big eyes and cascading mane-framed face.

He lost all his confidence the moment you locked eyes with him, taking a half-step back, not knowing what do with his hands. Tall and nervous. “Look..” he finally got out, shaking his head, avoiding eye contact. Hands gesturing kind of helplessly. “You’re... I just...”

Oh god, was this a tactless rejection?

Without even thinking you were turning backwards, storming away, trying to put some distance between yourself and that spiked-covered, foul-mouthed ray of sunshine, trying to clear your head-

And then there was a big hand grabbing your wrist, stopping you, and Eddie’s face was suddenly inches away, closer to you than he’d ever been. “Can I just-” he was babbling, scrambling for words, and his fingers were so warm, “-shit, can I just kiss you? Would that be okay? Would-”

You didn't’ even let him finish. Stupid, stupid man, with soft, hot lips, tasting like caffeinated cola and salt. It was everything you didn’t even know you had been wanting all these months. Heat bust in your chest all at once. A fire right up against your heart. You grabbed handfuls of his leather jacket.

Lips parted, heartbeat going bam bam bam in your mouth. His hot breath puffed on your face.

He spoke first, a slow grin crinkling the skin under his eyes. “Holy shit. You like me.”

You thumped a fist against his chest, pushing on his pectoral, a denial on your tongue, but he early hunted down your mouth again before you could get it out. Broad hands cupped your chin like he was trying to drink you down, get you as close as he could. You went up on tiptoe, completely enveloped in the smell of leather and deodorant, completely shielded from the world by leather and black fabric.

“...Maybe just a little.” You weakly got out, eventually. You bit your lip. “I don’t, uh. I don’t cook for anyone.”

Eddie just laughed: smiley and warm and incredulous. It rumbled in his chest under your hands, and he was kissing you again, and it was kind and soft and you knew absolutely Munson’s love language had to be physical touch.

He was weird. You were different. It was perfect.

God, the Hellfire club wasn’t going to be able to shut up about this for weeks.