#And the lyrics are listing the months and then saying that hes fucking every day every month all year long

[forestlion]

why is V releasing his thirteenth boring jazz ballad plus MV within a week. enlist NOW

[hairmetal666]

Eddie's supposed to be writing. The guys, they all agreed they'd each come to practice armed with two whole new songs they could pick from to add to their set list at the Hideout. And he's got his pen, and he's got his most recent trusty Composition Book, and all his lyrics are fucking bullshit about golden tanned skin and honeyed eyes and tracing constellations in freckles and moles, pathetic lines about being twisted in bed sheets, and the hopeless love he found himself in.

For the fifth time in an hour, he rips out the offending page, crunches it into a tight ball, and throws it across the room.

He can't write about Steve Harrington for the rest of his life; spend his nights aching for the boy who established himself as a fixture in Eddie's life and then just disappeared.

The worst of it--the very worst--is that Eddie knew better. Steve was never his, not in any real way, no matter how many times they fucked. He's Steve Harrington. Straightest guy in Hawkins. Popular. Rich. Whole fucking life laid out for him on a silver platter. And Eddie fell for him. It's the Munson curse, he supposes; always wanting what you can't have.

It started the way these things usually do, "got any weed?" and "come back to my place, Harrington" and "I got this stupid job at the mall, meet me there?" and lying "hey, guys, can't make band practice, gotta help Uncle Wayne" and "Munson, I really want--can I kiss you?"

In every other fantasy Eddie's ever had, it ends there. Steve gets his kiss and they never see each other again. But Steve Harrington--he's full of surprises. It catches Eddie off guard, makes him want, makes him trust. Because it's not just kisses. It's hands and mouths and "anything you want, Eddie. Let me make you feel good."

Maybe it wouldn't have hit so hard--maybe Eddie could've stopped from falling--if Steve hadn't been so good. Bitchy, sure, but genuine and kind. Had this whole gaggle of junior high kids he babysat, like what the fuck. Would hang out with Wayne and shoot the shit about whatever sports nonsense was on tv. Harrington never was as mean, as spoiled, as superficial as Eddie suspected.

Then Starcourt. That's when it all changes. Steve stops coming around then, in the aftermath. It hurts, but Eddie tells himself it's for the best. Now, he knows it would have been.

Two weeks with no contact, and Steve shows up at his door in the middle of the night. Eddie winces at the healing bruises and cuts on his face, can't imagine how much worse they were to start. He steps aside, lets Steve in, plans to say that he can't be whatever they are anymore.

Steve kisses him. It's a hot, needy thing, wild with teeth and tongue, nothing like before. Eddie is helpless to it, helpless to the way Steve grinds against him, already hard. He should slow it down, check-in that Steve is in the right headspace for this, but Steve is moaning low in his throat and Eddie can't think.

They're in Eddie's bed and Steve says, "fuck me, Eddie?" and Eddie says "are you sure" because he can't stop himself. Steve rolls his eyes (beautifuly bitchy), says, "I need to feel you inside me, baby."

How can Eddie say no?

Eddie's never done this before, but it doesn't matter. It's everything--Steve is everything--he could ask for.

The next morning, he expects Steve to be gone. Thinks they'll never see each other again. But he finds Steve in the kitchen, in his boxers and Eddie's Iron Maiden shirt, making eggs and talking to Wayne like it's the most normal thing in the world.

The next month and a half are the best of Eddie's life. He and Steve spend more time together than they do apart. Nights at Eddie's trailer, in Eddie's bed. Days lounging at the Harrington pool and driving around the nothing that surrounds Hawkins. Sometimes they'll stop in the middle of nowhere, climb on top of the van, and just--be. Steve takes his shirt off, and Eddie traces their names in the sun-soaked freckles, thinking maybe he really gets to have this, have Steve.

It ends as quickly as it started. One morning in September, Steve is cupping Eddie's neck, pulling him in for a goodbye kiss, saying, "sorry, baby, gotta get home for my parents. I'll see you later tonight, yeah?"

Except Eddie doesn't. Eddie doesn't see Steve that night, or the night after, or the night after that. He stops coming around and all Eddie is left with is a broken heart and these piss poor excuses for songs.

He rips out the latest page, waxing lyrical about the wonders of August, and time slipping away, and the boy he'll never forget. Crumples it into a ball and bats it into a pile of junk accumulated in the corner of his room.

Eddie needs a break.

He flies into the living room, snatches up his keys from the floor by the coffee table, and flees his house and all those memories of Steve. It's not like he has anywhere specific to go, so he drives around town, with his windows down and his music up.

His tires screech as he rounds the corner to the video store and arcade. He's not planning on stopping, but honestly, maybe a few rounds of Space Invaders is exactly what he needs.

The van hasn't even come to a stop in the parking spot when his eyes fall on Steve Harrington. He's standing in the middle of the parking lot surrounded by a gang of kids (including some of Eddie's new little sheepies) and Robin Buckley. Steve wears a sunny yellow sweatshirt, tight jeans, and his hair is perfectly coifed, falling in an elegant wave. His hands are on his hips, mouth and brows pinched stern. He's gorgeous, perfect.

It's an assault, an attack, Eddie's entire body shakes as the months they spent together crash over him. He has the van in reverse before he consciously thinks to do so, flooring it out of the space hard enough to burn rubber.

The noise, the speed, it draws the entire group's attention to him.

His eyes meet Steve's.

Time stops and so does he, idling in the middle of the parking lot. For a second, one moment in time, Steve's face falls. His mouth loses that grumpy pinch, his eyebrows drop, his beauty transformed by grief, by fucking longing.

Steve takes a step forward, and Eddie hits the gas, van screaming out of the parking lot. He watches the group shrink in his rearview mirror, sure that he imagined the sorrow in Steve's face, anyway.

They're nothing to each other.

Never were.

By popular request: Part Two

[undead-supernova]

Right Here, Right Now / Masterlist

Chapter 9 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11

plot: corroded coffin's eddie munson agrees to an interview for the first time in three years, alongside a new album that is most definitely about you.

Pairings: modernrockstar!Eddie x fem!popstar!Reader (curvy!reader, bisexual!reader)

Warnings: talks of familial death, depressing lyricism, angst

wc: 4.1k

note: I also wrote all of the lyrics in this chapter and made the images above of the album's cover and tracklist. I feel so proud of how much my hard work is paying off. DON'T USE THESE LYRICS ANYWHERE ELSE THANK YEW

Just one more mile.

You could do it. No, really, you could.

Tour really was coming up in the next six months and you had to build up your stamina now or else you weren’t going to survive. Things really were better now, though. You’d gotten rid of your personal trainer and switched to someone who did not suggest that you stop eating. It seemed like Sophia was a better fit anyways. If anything, she told you to eat more.

So here you were, on your poor attempt at a night run.

And you promised yourself that you wouldn’t think about him and how his album was dropping any day now.

Definitely, definitely not.

It was nearly midnight anyways, a few out from the witching hour but that’s not how it went for you. If anything, you were cursed with the threat of midnight being the worst hour of each day. It was like some switch flicked on and you were a mess of a woman, splayed out in bed and thinking. Furiously scribbling in a notebook as you lost to the thoughts in your head. Curled up in a ball in the shower, the white noise perfect for your never-ending thinking.

And who could forget sitting in your kitchen with a bowl of Kraft mac and cheese. Don’t forget the thinking.

Thinking about Eddie. His voice. The way he was willing to give you more than you deserved without any rhyme or reason. How desperate you felt to reconnect, to apologize profusely and beg for some semblance of forgiveness.

And now you were here, trying to outrun your problems while watching the headlights passing the windowpane.

Tried to stop thinking about how at any moment, Eddie could show up and you’d fall into his arms without any question. You’d tell him it didn’t matter. None of it did. And he’d say he wasn’t mad anymore and that he missed you and then you’d go on living like you once did.

Before you could lose yourself to wishing on headlights, a notification popped up on your phone.

         Spotify exclusive: Listen to Corroded Coffin’s new album now!

Without any warning, you lost your footing on the treadmill and fell backwards. Hit your head on the floor, stunned. Let the pain throb in your head for only a few seconds before you dragged your body upright and clicked on the album.

Your eyes scanned the track list, heart pumping incessantly as a bead of blood rushed down your forehead. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Quickly, you threw yourself into the shower to wash off before grabbing headphones and padding into your walk-in closet. Situated yourself in the back corner, your body fitting snuggly in isolation. 

And as you pressed that green play button, your grief washed over you at every line you called your favorite.

Welcome Home

         “Dad’s disappearing acts and the award-winning smile 

         saying ‘sure, I’ll be comin’ back’

         Well, I guess we’re both suckers for a little hope every once in a while

         And, mom, is that why you stayed? Waited up praying, decaying all alone

         Just so one day, you’d be able to say, ‘Welcome home’.”

Fever

         “How could you ever fight a fever? God dammit, she’s more than a flame

         Got her pinning me down, locked inside her heat wave

         Sweat dripping, flesh gripping, I melt from her gaze

         Just one more round, promise I’ll behave

         Come on, darling, why don’t you set me ablaze?”

The Cost

         “I ruined all the plans that hadn’t been made

         Loving you as the bellbirds erupted in a haunted chorus

         Rosy pink clouds turned into showers of blood and hate

         I’m trying, baby, I’m trying to find a way out for us

         But isn’t that the cost, darling? 

         Isn’t that the price of being with me?”

Tailor-Made

         “We’re the only ones walking through the neighborhood

         Sweetheart, don’t you think I know how to hide?

         I’d never speak it, but I’d buy every house if I could

         Marry you in secret, raise our kids benevolent and kind.”

Rose Petals (Interlude)

         “Take a boy-turned-man, crucifying himself at your altar

         Convince him your devoted infatuation will never falter

         Paint his skies a vibrant pink then turn him into sheet metal

         Leave him bleeding out, fractured, scattered like rose petals.”

As Good As Dead

         “What’s more cliché than a man saying he’d die without your love

         At least if I had an open vein, I’d feel something better than being numb

         ‘There’s no such thing as fate’ my thoughts screamed so fucking loud

         But there was comfort in blind faith, that ill-fated crowd

         Had a grip on your throat. Shit, maybe it always has

         But now that I’m as good as dead, I can’t help my bitter laugh.”

A Mirage of Lovers

         “There sat Elizabeth and Al,

         on the front porch of their first house

         Blind with momentary affection

         And I swear when I looked at you,

         I thought you were a lasting confection

         But I swear there’s a mirage of lovers

         Blurring in its reflection.”

Deluge

         “It’s all there in my head, all in disarray

         A cesspool of memories, a desperation for change

         Fought for my life, thought it was so I could see you

         Mother, I know that you’re not here, I’m still trying to heal

         But please tell me now that love has always been real

         Yet I wonder if you ever believed it yourself."

Hotwire

         “Al loved a nice Hotwire

         Pull ‘em apart, let them fray, twist ‘em till they go insane

         And, yeah, I guess everyone I love is the same.”

Fallen Hero (Interlude)

         “Every time I pick up a pen

         It’s destined to dry out

         And I refuse to go outside, refuse to call my friends

         What’s the point when they’ll never understand?

         I’ll leave myself behind just to have a pinch of hope

         But I come back down from daydreams covered in blood

         Just gotta learn to change, learn to change

         Learn to accept being the fallen hero."

Intangible

         “There’s beauty in the ways of intangibility 

         Like the touch of a woman in blushing gardens far away

         The curve of her hips blooming in shades of futility

         Laughter billowing like smoke lingering in the archway

         And there’s places she will never be able to evade

         A bouquet, a veil, a lover lying await in the shade.”

Out of My Hands

         “If I could hear your knock, brought back by my revery

         Each rap, each tap still committed to my memory

         But that’s up to you, darling, it’s all up to you

         And it’s the end I’m stalling, just for you

         And I love you, baby. I love you

         I hope you know I always will

         Even if it’s out of my hands.”

Wayne

         “There’s a new family in the trailer, I really wish I could believe it

         'Cause once I thought we'd buckle under the weight of all that labor

         No more scrounging up pennies for another first-aid kit

         And you’re not here, Wayne. No, you’re not here.”

Lighter

         “Give me back my lighter, any excuse to see you

         Let it flicker, sit by the flame from sunrise ’til noon

         Come running back, consider your exile foregone

         I choose you in the low glow of dusk, love you ‘til dawn.”

Makeup starting to smudge, an outrageously expensive crop top and skirt still on, you threw off your pumps and let your aching feet lead you to the kitchen. Your black, white, and neon orange plaid outfit reflected vibrantly off the refrigerator light as you decided instead to make crescent rolls. Why the fuck not? 

You were absolutely exhausted. Sleep hadn’t been an option for you in the last twenty-four hours, what with Corroded Coffin’s album keeping you awake and the promo you’d done all day. When you’d finally arrived back to your small California home, you were irritated and in desperate need of some food.

However, as the oven began to preheat, your jumbled thoughts kept piling on top of one another. The fog was too loud for you, having to rush to your living room to grab one of your many notebooks and pens. Sat at the island and just journaled.

It was hard enough knowing that Eddie had written all of that for you. About you. The disappointment, the self-loathing. The guilt of not feeling good enough. Searching through the past mistakes of his parents to make sense of the way you fell apart. As if that was the inevitable ending to any story he was destined to begin.

You felt sick.

And even though you ate every single crescent roll, your words just sunk into the page. You could’ve sworn a third of the notebook itself was smeared in grease and flakes and the intense shame rising in your chest. It was everything you’d hated about the last six months and more, all the goddamn childish emotions and wails of what was fair and what wasn’t. As if this hadn’t been your decision in the first place.

Enough was enough when you finished your plate.

“Okay,” you mumbled to yourself before letting out a sound of frustration. “Distraction. Now.”

Grabbing your laptop, you threw yourself on your couch and logged onto YouTube. Maybe you’d watch a deep dive on an amusement park. Catch up on some commentary. Look up that one video of baby sloths talking that usually had you crying from affection.

But there on the front page was an interview with Corroded Coffin on the new album. There’d already been over a million views despite being posted that morning. Something pooled in your abdomen as you saw the thumbnail, all the members posing together.

And you knew you shouldn’t.

But fuck it, what’s a little more salt to your never-ending wounds?

As you clicked on the video, some interviewer you hadn’t heard of popped up smiling before he spoke.

“Hi, my name is Marcus Sanderson and today I’m interviewing one of the most successful metal bands in recent history, Corroded Coffin. They have been hitting commercial success lately, after their incredible album, Fire Shroud, held electronic influences which have begun to redefine and evolve the genre for the modern age.

"Their most recent album, Elizabeth & Al, has only propelled them forward. I was given the rare opportunity to talk to Eddie, Jeff, Gareth, Grant, and Ronnie about not only their writing and producing process, but their personal lives. 

“First, we’ll open up with a cover of one of the band’s favorite songs of all time, ‘Solitude’ by Black Sabbath.”

It cut to the band and you couldn’t help a frustrated whine leaving your mouth at seeing him again. And, Jesus Christ, Eddie was fit like a daydream, donning a black Guns N’ Roses t-shirt with dark jeans and a long-sleeved plaid shirt tied at the waist. A shiny leather jacket, some custom-made Converse with Corroded Coffin across the bottom. Rings and bracelets galore, an obsidian choker hanging low on his neck. Black eyeliner that had wings along his lower lash line. 

You didn’t think you’d ever felt so fucking weak for him.

He stood without his guitar for once, his full attention on his singing. Jeff, Gareth, Grant, and Ronnie were all decked out too, makeup mirroring Eddie’s. All looking refreshed and well-rested. You noticed there was someone else there in the background playing the flute and as they started the song with a gentle solo, it sounded ethereal.

         “My name, it means nothing. My fortune is less

         My future is shrouded in dark wilderness.”

Eddie avoided the camera, eyes darting around the room. You could see his fingers shaking, white-knuckled around the microphone despite the stability of the stand. 

         “Sunshine is far away, clouds linger on

         Everything I possessed, now they are gone

         They are gone.”

Absentmindedly chewing on your lip, you couldn't help but let it sink in. This wasn't just the band's favorite Black Sabbath song—this was Eddie's. He'd told you how the song ripped him apart. How he'd rather die than to ever relate to it personally.

         “Oh, where can I go to and what can I do?

         Nothing can please me, only thoughts are of you

         You just left when I begged you to stay.”

He leaned back as he began to change the notes of the lyrics, his voice building into a belt. Like it was a wail, like he was the most furious man alive.

         “I’ve not stopped crying since you went away

         You went away…” 

The instrumental sounded, the flute having its own solo. Extending the moment, extending the devastation that was demolishing your soul.

Eddie was crying now, wiping the corners of his eyes in the background. Smearing his eyeliner like he didn't care, nose tinged pink through the makeup. And when he came back to the mic, you could see the pain sitting in his eyes. All glassy, all excruciatingly fragile.

         “The world is a lonely place, you’re on your own

         Guess I will go home, sit down and mourn

         Crying and thinking is all that I do

         Memories I have remind me of you

         Of you.”

The footage blurred, fading before cutting to Eddie sitting alone in a chair with the interviewer opposite him. Like they were in a house, all casual and at ease.

“We’re starting off by talking to the front man, Eddie Munson,” Marcus said to the camera, smiling before turning his attention back to Eddie. “It’s nice to see you, man. You look great.”

Eddie chuckled. “Great to be back.”

Marcus nodded. “That cover of ‘Solitude’ was incredible, by the way.”

You could see some color flood into Eddie’s cheeks. “Ah, thanks. Thank you.”

“Do you feel like you’ve been in a period of solitude?”

“Uh, to be honest, kinda. I know people are, like, freaking out just ‘cause I haven’t been in public.”

“Where’ve you been?”

“Just making sure I’m focused on the work,” He gestured to himself before mimicking a pushing motion “and not on the external stuff, you know?”

“As we all should. Would you tell me a bit about your new album? Personally, I’m curious as to why you specifically named it Elizabeth & Al.”

“Yeah, uh, those are my parents’ names. My mom passed away when I was a kid and my dad…well, he wasn’t the best. But I just couldn’t stop thinking about what happens when two people who love each other just end up falling apart. Like, you just feel like you’re as good as dead, you know? And I wondered if my parents had that sort of crash and burn before she died.

“I don’t talk about it much, but my dad had a lot of issues with addiction and gambling and crime after my mom died. I didn’t grow up with the generic parent bleep. It was more like I was his friend than a son and sometimes I was a business partner. And, I don’t know, I grew up thinking that love could’ve been so simple if he gave just a little bit of effort. But I still thought he and my mom had a simple love.”

“I’m guessing they didn’t.”

Eddie let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, no. My dad was never really good at maintaining, like, any kind of control. And it’s so weird ‘cause all he ever did was try to have control over things. But it was self-sabotage, I think. He was never in control over his life. It felt so predestined.”

“What about your mom?”

He shrugged. “I’m not really sure. I think she just wanted love. Like, grasping for that shred of love that he provided every once in a while. ‘Cause it’s not like my dad was incapable of love. Just incapable of giving her everything. Maybe I’m projecting now, but you know what I mean.”

“So, is this album from the perspective of your parents?”

“Not exactly,” Eddie said, shaking his head. “They’re kinda just the reflection, you know? Like what I say on ‘A Mirage of Lovers’. Our parents end up being a kind of mirror we hold up to ourselves. And I think it’s up to us to decide if we’ll continue that cycle or not—especially in the face of heartbreak and loss. ‘Cause you can easily sit there and accuse yourself of being like your father or your mother. But ultimately, you’re just you. You’re not your parents.”

“And you wrote all of this within the last six months, correct?”

“Yeah, it was weird. Like, I just couldn’t stop writing. I was in such a dark place and the only thing I did was sit and write. And the band is so bleeping incredible. I showed them what I was thinking, and they were super, super receptive to it. And we got to work and got it done faster than anything else we’ve made.”

Marcus smiled, something genuine and real, shaking his head in disbelief. “That timeline really does shock me, just because it’s so seamless. There’s all these tiny details and every song just flows into one another.”

“Thanks, man. That means a lot. We kinda thought that having all the songs connect was sorta like, um, a stream of consciousness, essentially.” He started gesturing with his hands and you knew he was getting more comfortable. It almost made you smile. “Like, these thoughts all run together in a big loop. Like having one of those corkboards with all the evidence and red strings, you know? All of it just ends up running together and there’s no concrete answer. It just is.

“And, man. Jeff, Gareth, Grant, and Ronnie are just the best. They know me better than almost anyone and they seemed to automatically get what they needed to do. Just, like, boom, boom, boom. One after the other, we just got everything right. No one else helped produce this album and I think it shows just how much we’ve learned and evolved over our careers.” 

You felt something freeze inside you when the interviewer mentioned your name.

Eddie tried his best to seem unaffected, but you knew he was starting to squirm. You could see the top of his knee as it bounced.

“Are you two still together?” Marcus asked. “What’s the story there?”

Eddie’s eyes wandered the room, probably trying to calculate the best way to go. You selfishly wanted him to say nothing about the breakup, to refuse to confirm that it was truly over. 

He cleared his throat before scratching his temple. 

“My relationship with her is private and just between us. It always has. But I guess since I finally have a chance to say whatever I want to say, I want to make it very clear that the way the media has treated her has been just disgusting and unwarranted. She is not some plastic, shiny doll for everyone to point and laugh at."

Eddie then straightened his posture as he looked straight into the camera. "Oh, and let me be clear. If you’re sitting there talking about her bleeping body, then you are a piece of bleeping bleep and I hope you burn in hell.”  

Just like that, Marcus Sanderson moved on, the shot cutting away to a shot of the rest of the band sitting on a couch. But you weren’t listening anymore. Your head was swirling with a concoction of disbelief and epiphanies. Something…clicked.

Because you’d never had a partner mention you on a public scale. Never had a partner willing to scream your love from the top of the world and still retain privacy. Never had someone so willing to defend you despite your faults. Despite your arguments and downfalls.

And you were realizing that you…had done none of that for Eddie.

You’d sat there, in a dreamy haze because Eddie gave you everything he had. But had you really done any of those things back? Had you given him an ounce of what he gave you? 

You thought back to the AMAs, when you walked around your answers. Nearly yelled at him for standing up for you. Dropped his hand when he wanted to tell you how proud he was. Hell, you even broke up with him because of what other people said. He thought you wanted nothing from him, that you weren’t interested anymore. 

You never even said you loved him to his face.

You treated him exactly the way all your past partners treated you.

Eddie Munson had given you his world and you’d given him a fraction.

“I fucked up,” you whispered before you really processed what was happening. “I FUCKED UP!” you screeched, scrambling to stand up and check your phone. 

1:13am.

Immediately dropped it, watching it slide under the couch.

“FUCK!” you screamed again.

Dropping to your knees and enduring the carpet burn, you reached down and felt around for your phone. But you froze as you felt something else, something smaller in size. Pulled it out, recognizing Eddie’s lighter immediately. 

You flicked the lighter on, only encountering sparks the first two times. But when you watched it transform into a flame, something in your chest began to ache. It was the kindling of a once-wet fireplace, the first stroke of fire you’d felt in months. Teardrops fell freely down your chest as you found the will to fight.

Fight for what you knew you could never live without.

Fight for Eddie.

Give me back my lighter, any excuse to see you

Come running back, consider your exile foregone

Without any thought, you stuffed it into your top, found your phone, and popped up to search for some socks. Barely registered the color before yanking them on. You didn’t care how dressed up you were or how oily your face felt. How exhausted your body was or the residue of a crescent roll sticking to the side of your mouth.

You had to get to wherever Eddie was, and you had to get there now. If you didn’t talk to him tonight, you didn’t know if you’d make it to daylight.

But where was he?

The thought made you pause, hands shaking as you thought.

And before the panic could completely consume you, you called the one person who seemed to know everything.

“Woah, hello there.”

“Jeff.” 

“Hey, long time no see. Where you been?”

“Jeff, I’m sorry, but I really need you to tell me if Eddie is in California right now.”

“Uh, yeah, he is.” You tugged your white Keds on, breathing a sigh of relief. “He’s been holed up in his place for the last few days. Why?”

“I just need to talk to him,” you said, nearly out of breath as you started sprinting to the garage. “I need to talk to him.”

“Ever thought about calling?”

“Nope.”

Jeff’s laughter rang through the receiver. “You’re crazy, girl. I’ll give you that one.” A huff left your nose as you climbed into your car. “You gonna tell him you’re in love with him?”

“Yeah, yeah I am.”

“Finally.”

“Are you mad at me?” you asked, dreading any answer he’d give.

“Not at all. Just don’t leave him hanging this time, okay? He hasn’t been okay in a really long time.”

“Neither have I. I’m hoping to fix this and let it stay fixed.”

“Go get your man.”

As the garage door lifted, you noticed the pouring rain.

Of course it started fucking storming within the last hour and a half you’d been home. Of fucking course.

“Bye, Jeff,” you said quickly.

“Bye, girl!”

As you filed out of your driveway, a black SUV was already pulling out behind you. The protection was part of the job. You knew this. But sometimes, you just wanted to tell Scott that you had shit to do on your own.

But there was no time for this.

You just continued to drive, letting the soft hum of “The Long And Winding Road” by The Beatles lead you right back to the very place you knew you belonged.

“Scott,” James acknowledged.

“James.”

It felt like a showdown, Scott stepping in front of you at the gates. As soon as you’d arrived, you’d been prevented from pulling into the driveway. And it was James who’d crossed his arms over his dauntingly ripped chest, staring you down like you’d committed a crime.

You couldn’t blame him.

“What’s the situation?”

You tried not to roll your eyes. “I need to talk to Eddie.”

“It’s two in the morning. Kid finally fell asleep for once.”

“Let her in, James,” Scott said. “They’re people. Just let them figure it out on their own without us.”

“I really want to fix this,” you explained, earning a lifted eyebrow from James. “He’s everything to me and I know I screwed up. I know that. But I want to at least try to mend this. I’m a fucking idiot. Just…please.” Your eyes began to water. “Please let me try.”

James gave you a hard stare for what felt like ten minutes. Like he was assessing the risk. 

But then he opened the gate, stepping to the side. 

“Thank you,” you breathed, rushing past him to the door.

You knocked quite rapidly, your heartbeat matching the pace. Heard it pulse in your ears. Teetered on each foot as the adrenaline continued to catapult you further into madness. Waiting and waiting and waiting until— 

There he was, barely visible in the glow of the front porch light, eyes squinting. Messy curls frizzing, wearing a white t-shirt and gray sweatpants. No accessories, no socks on his feet.

It seemed like he finally registered it was you when he straightened his posture. Eddie gazed down at your body and back up again, eyes widening with every passing second. 

“Hey,” you finally whispered.

“Hey.”

bless @strangergraphics for always having the sickest dividers.

[lady-of-tearshed]

Paper airplanes

Finnick Odair x Reader

(Fluff/slight angst)

Based on some lyrics from "Out Of The Woods" by Taylor Swift

Summary: As you and Finnick relationship grows stronger every day, you can't help but remind yourself how it all started and how beautiful life had become through everything.

Word count: 3.3k

“Okay, give me a fucking second, I’m nervous.” @dumplingsjinson https://dumplingsjinson.tumblr.com/post/744023757216169984/list-of-awkward-confessions-prompts

You sigh as you put the last cardboard box in your now-shared bedroom with Finnick. You smile softly, looking around the peaceful bedroom covered in a soft orange light as the sunset rays filtered through the laced curtains. You take out the Polaroid picture the two of you had taken back when you were still innocent children picking up seashells and making up imaginary quests about fairies and dragons in your treehouse. The picture was in black and white, and so was the cruel world before the revolution, but your friendship back then was tinted in screaming colors. 

You snap out of your thoughts when you hear rustling sounds from where your boyfriend is downstairs. You put the picture down carefully onto the bed and head downstairs to look at what all that clatter was about. You spot the now empty living room floor, the boxes that were previously piled here and there moved to the side, creating an empty space in the center of the living room. You spot Finninck crouched down behind the couch and you chuckle. “What are you doing?” 

His head pops up from behind the couch and he lifts the radio to show it to you, then places it back down onto the floor. He puts the favorite CD of both of you inside of the radio and presses play. He stands up from his crouched position and offers you his hand gracefully, making an exaggerated bow that makes you laugh. “Why, dancing with my wonderful angel, of course.” 

The two of you spend all evening swaying and twirling in the living room, almost falling over the boxes piled on the side when you let the music take over the two of you. When you’re both panting and sweating, heads dizzied from all those spins, and stomach pleasantly painful from all the laughing from your clumsy dance moves, Finnick pauses and looks into your eyes. The music is still softly humming in the background. He pushes a strand of hair away from your sweaty forehead, and tucks it behind your ear. “You truly are an angel… my angel. I love you.” He whispers, softness and love radiating from his voice.

“I love you too, Finn.” You say with tears in your eyes. You were always the sensitive one, and you weren’t ashamed of it anymore, because you knew that Finnick loved all and every part of your soul, mind, and body.

You can’t help but feel amazed by the fact that all it took for this relationship to happen was two paper airplanes flying.

*Flashback, you and Finnick were fourteen back then.*

He didn’t come. He forgot, probably too busy with those much cooler other friends of his. The thing is, Finnick is your only friend, and you don't really have anyone else in your life than him. You were raised in an orphanage by nuns, still are, actually, and will be until your eighteenth birthday. Unless you get reaped into the Hunger Games… Finnick, on the other hand, even though he was pretty much raised just like you, had managed to make tons of friends with his bubbly personality, his natural charm, and his perfect body. 

You lift the piano seat, your eyes scanning the crowd, when you spot Finnick rushing inside the room, but it is too late. He had missed everything, everything you had been giving your blood, sweat, and tears for months now. Everyone cheers and you bow, fighting the tears that were starting to rise into your eyes. You walk behind the curtains, quickly grab your bag, and walk out of the theater. 

You hear hurried footsteps coming your way, but you don’t stop, even when a voice speaks up. “Y/N! Y/N… Wait up, please! I can explain-” “Explain what, Finnick?! That you forgot? That this wasn’t important enough for you to dare show up on time?!” You snap at him, spinning around in one quick movement, making him slightly stumble forward at your sudden halt.

“It’s not like that…” He starts off. “It’s just… Dylan needed help with this homework and-"

"Oh yeah. Dylan.” You roll your eyes at him. “That new oh-so-cool friend of yours. Well, you know what, I was your friend too, Finnick. I have no one else. And you knew, you knew how hard I worked on this piece and how excited I was to present it tonight. I wanted you to be proud of me, Finnick. But I’m done, I’m done waiting and hoping that you’ll care.”

His eyes soften, and he tries to put a gentle hand on your shoulder, but you brush it off harshly. “Y/N… I do care…” You shake your head and back off to put some distance between the two of you “Well I don’t need you to anymore. I’m done. This…” You gesture between the two of you “This is over. Goodbye.” You walk off into the night and head back to your room, trying to ignore the sound of Finnick’s room shutting a few hours later. You wondered where he went after your fight that night. If he went to his friends to vent and laugh about your perfectly reasonable reaction.

—

The next morning, you woke up early, determined to ignore Finnick from now on. You head to your secret treehouse, the one you and Finnick built when you were younger. You spent all morning reading your book, the one Finnick gave you for your birthday actually. It felt as if life was trying to play with your nerves. Your peaceful reading session is suddenly put on pause when a paper airplane slides under the mossy wooden door. You roll your eyes, knowing only you and Finnick knew about this place.

You sigh loudly, making sure he would hear the sound of your annoyance through the door. You angrily slam down your book on the pillow next to you and stand up to pick up the paper airplane. You open it and try to decipher whatever Finnick’s bad handwriting had written down on the paper. 

 ‘I don’t feel like fighting anymore. I can’t spend another minute without you Y/N. You’re right, I was stupid. Boys are stupid, more than often, sadly. Guess that means I need you to slap reality back into my face from time to time. I’m sorry, truly. I’ll make sure to let you know through acts how much you mean to me.

P.S. : Open the door, angel'

You open the door and stare at a nervous Finnick fidgeting with the basket he was holding.

“What’s this?” You ask, your tone still cold as you were still a bit mad, even though the letter made your heart warm up a little. 

“Banana muffins… I made them. I know that they’re your favorites…” You can’t help but crack a smile, letting him inside the tree house. Life was too short and uncertain to stay mad at each other. And life made sure to remind you that a few weeks later, on reaping day.

–

Everything happened quickly, too quickly. Your ears were ringing. Everything was spinning around you since Finnick’s name had been picked out of the glass jar. Peacekeepers brought him into the building, and you knew you only had a few minutes left to talk to him, to tell him all of the things that were yet unsaid. 

You rush inside and jump into his arms once the peacekeeper lets you in. “Finnick, there’s something I need to tell you. I lo-” He puts his hand over your mouth, and you frown at him. You brush his hands off and start again “Please, listen to me, we don’t have much time. I-” “We’ll have the rest of our lives when I get back, save it for this moment, please angel…” He tries to smile through his fear.

He quickly glances at the doors, then back at you when he hears footsteps coming. He takes off his necklace and wraps it around your neck “Keep it safe for me until I come back to you.” He kisses your cheek, and you nod.

*Back to now*

The peacekeepers open the door and take him away from you. “Until next time Finn, please be safe!” You manage to say before the heavy door closes behind him. Your body crumbles down to the floor, your hand tightly wrapped around the trident pendant as your whole life seemed to have shattered the moment they took him away.

Looking at it now, it all seemed so simple. There was now way more important matters to worry about than some stupid children quarrel. You were frantically looking under every furniture in your home, your now swollen stomach limiting your movements. You have been carrying the fruit of your and Finnick’s love for five months now. A girl, the both of you had found out yesterday at your ultrasound. That was when you had last worn Finnick’s necklace, actually.

You had called the hospital, asking if they had found anything you might’ve forgotten there, but nothing. So you had concluded that maybe it might’ve slipped off from your neck at home, which is how you had gotten yourself bent down to look under the couch. Tears were rolling down your cheeks when you realized it wasn’t there either. 

You and Finnick were slightly struggling financially recently, which he was trying his damndest to hide from you to not put stress on your body for the baby. He had been working more, since you had drastically slacked your work hours at the local library, your nausea and fatigue making it hard to do anything, really. So losing the necklace Finnick had lovingly secured around your neck ten years ago, on the most scary day of your life, was a huge deal to you right now. It was worth way more than its weight in gold, even more so emotionally.  

You froze when the front door slammed shut when Finnick came back from work. “Angel, I’m home! Oh, how I missed my girls-” Finnick’s body tensed and his facial features folded in dread. “Y/N what’s wrong? Are you okay? Is the baby okay?” He strokes your cheek, searching your eyes frantically for answers as his other hand protectively lays on the side of your womb.

Through sobs, you manage to tell him that this morning you couldn’t find the necklace he gave you, and that you looked all over the house in vain. Finnick, to your surprise, throws his head back and sighs in relief. He kisses your lips gently and smiles. “Oh, my sweet, sweet angel…” He chuckles slightly and shakes his head, your eyes widen as he reaches for his pocket and extracts the cause of all your worries. He carefully places the necklace back to where he belongs, around the neck of the mother of his child, and speaks up “I wanted to surprise you for our fifth couple anniversary today. I know we said we wouldn’t buy each other presents but I still wanted to give you a little surprise. I brought it to the jeweler to have it polished and cleaned up… I didn’t think you would have noticed, nor that it would have worried you so much. I’m so sorry, darling.” 

You shake your head and chuckle, your hand tightly wrapped around the little trident pendant. “Thank you, my love.” You kiss his lips softly. “I have a surprise for you too, by the way.”

He raises a brow and grins mischievously. “Mh, really? I’m all ears.”

“I made banana muffins, with a peanut butter sauce in the center.” 

A roar of laughter reverberates from his throat “The ones you were craving last night?”

“Yeah. How did you know?” You tease him and walk over the kitchen to stuff one into your mouth.

“I paid attention...” He chuckles and joins you in the degustation of your surprisingly delicious concoction.

*Flash back five years after Finnick’s Hunger Games* 

It had been five now since Finnick had been reaped and won the 65th Hunger Games. You were still wearing his necklace, hoping the capitol sweetheart would be given back his freedom someday. You watched every interview of Finnick, watching him smile and laugh through it all, but you knew deep down all of this was a show, an act he had to perform under the pressure of President Snow. 

You are currently washing the dishes, his necklace hanging from your neck as you bend over the sink, your thoughts wandering to him, and the things you never got to tell each other the last time you saw him. You spin around at the sound of mail being dropped through the mail slot. You dry your hands on the towel and throw it lazily onto the table as you pick up the mail. Bills, bills, newspapers, more bills-

Your eyes narrow when the mail slot wiggles again. You put the mail down on the countertop and reach for what just dropped from it. A paper airplane… Your heart races. There could only be one person who would send a nineteen-year-old woman a paper airplane. You quickly unfold it, and your eyes race over the words.

‘Hi angel, it’s been a while, hasn’t it? We have a lot to catch up on, especially since our last conversation. You didn’t think I would forget now, did you? I figured I needed to fix that. I love you, Y/N. I really do. I hope you will forgive me for leaving you in the dark for far too long. It wasn’t to my liking, it was a torture, truly. The thought of your face, your voice, your wholeness was what kept me from breaking. My angel… I promise to explain everything if you’ll let me.

Once again, I love you. Truly.

Yours, if you want me, Finnick

P.S. : Open the door, angel’

The paper airplane falls from your hands as you yank the door open. Finnick is standing there, all grown up, a bouquet of lilies, your favorites. You freeze in place, flabbergasted from the sight of him.

“Hi.” He finally speaks up, smirking nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “You… you kept the necklace…” He whispers, staring down at the pendant lying perfectly on your chest, just above… he tries to compose himself, trying to keep his eyes in the right places. 

When he looks up at you he barely has the time to think before you throw your arms around his neck and crash your lips onto his. The kiss is hungry, desperate, and messy. You back him off inside the house, his lips not leaving yours once. He places the bouquet down onto the kitchen table, and wastes no time to lift you up into his arms.

Not many words were exchanged that night, only passion, love, and yearning. Nor did you spend much time anywhere but in your bed, the new couple didn’t leave it until past noon the next morning. 

*Back to now*

Paper airplane letters have become a method of communication between the two of you since the day Finnick became yours. It helped Finnick a lot to open up about the dark thoughts that clung to him since the games, his 65th, his 75th, and the revolution against President Snow. On some nights, he still woke up from his nightmares clinging onto the sheets as if it was a matter of life or death, his breathing raspy as if someone had cut off the oxygen feeding his lungs, and sweat dripping down his skin. You always stayed by his side, and helped him troughthrough everything, just like he would and did for you when needed. Everyone might think that Finnick was good at expressing himself, being the biggest flirt there was on Panem, but you knew your boyfriend better than that. You knew that more than often words never seemed to come together when he tried to open up his heart, as if they were somehow stuck in his throat instead of flowing out through his lips. 

You knew better than anyone when something was wrong with Finnick, just like right now. He leaned against the doorframe of your shared bedroom as you were laid down in bed, the little girl moving inside your womb had now gotten big as you were getting closer and closer to your due date.  You lift your eyes from the book resting on top of your huge stomach and stare at him, shooting him a questioning look as he stays there instead of joining you in bed like he usually does. He opens his mouth a few times, his fingers twitching at his sides, and moving in and out of his pockets. Not a word seemed to find its way out of his mouth.

“Finn… What’s wrong, love..?” You put your book down on the nightstand but as you start to rise from the bed he motions you to stop. You stay put, still sitting on the edge of the bed, and tilt your head, your eyes glued on him.

“Okay, give me a fucking second, I’m nervous.” His hands were shaking into the pockets of his jean jacket. You both stare at each other in a heavy silence for a moment that feels like an eternity. He clicks his tongue and his shoulders slump, a look of disappointment reading on his face. “Never mind. Can’t do it.”

You knew better than to walk after him for answers, that he would find a way to open up to you about whatever he looked so uneasy to confess when he'd be ready. He closed the door softly behind him, leaving you confused and slightly worried for him. You settle back under the duvet of your bed and try to keep up reading your book where you had left off before this interruption. A few minutes later, you hear a soft swishing sound coming from under the bedroom door. You can’t help but smile slightly. It had been a while since Finnick felt the need to write a paper airplane letter. You were happy to notice that he still used his communication techniques when he felt the need. You slowly unfold the origami, and read the short content of words laid onto the paper.

‘Y/N, love, will you please marry me? 

P.S.: Open the door, angel.’

You yank the door open at the all too familiar confession situation. Finnick is kneeling down on one knee, a mesmerizing grin stamped on his face, tears at the corner of his eyes while yours were heavily pouring down your cheeks. He is holding out to you the most beautiful golden ring you have seen in your life, a white pearl ornating the center of it. His hands are still slightly shaking in anticipation, he opens his mouth to at least try to say something but you save him from the struggle. You kneel in front of him and wrap your arms around his neck tightly, kissing his lips hungrily. “Yes, yes Finnick. I will marry you.” You giggle, all while sniffling not so graciously, and he smiles. He slides the ring onto your finger and kisses it gently. He swiftly lifts you up into his strong arms and captures your lips with his needy ones once more, leading the two of you back inside your shared bedroom. When you woke up next to him the next morning, the sun shining down onto your golden ring and Finnick's graceful sleeping form laid down next to you, his fingers intertwined with yours through his slumber, you knew that whatever would come in your way the both of you would find a way out of the woods.

A/N : I was wondering if I should've made this two parts instead of one... tell me what you think I should do for next time!

[hippiegoth97]

Roam Pt.2: Eddie Munson x Reader

Collage by me :)

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Description: Eddie and his band finish their first world tour, leaving three whole months for you two to spend some quality time together. And what better way to kick off your intimate time, than with an absolutely amazing Valentine's Day?

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, rockstar!eddie munosn, smut, female reader, mentions of drug use, alcohol use, anxiety, mentions of sexism and classism, mentions of sexual harassment, groping, use of a video camera, fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex, praise/light degradation, rough sex, squirting, dirty talk, consecutive orgasms, overstimulation

Word Count: 18.3k

divider by @xxbimbobunnyxx

Roam Pt.2

"Alright, we're gonna play our last song of the night. It's a special one I wrote for my wife. It's called "Fool for You"." Eddie says into the mic, met with cheers and whoops from the packed stadium. You watch from backstage, smiling as his eyes flick to you. "Y/N, this one's for you. I love you more than life itself, baby." He smirks in your direction, before strumming the first note to begin the song.

You've had your eyes glued to Eddie all night. You wait in the wings as he rocks hard on the guitar, delivering some of the greatest vocals in the industry, strutting around the stage with confidence and flair. He's such a showman at heart, always has been, and always will be. Even in the early days of Corroded Coffin, Eddie has given it his all with every performance. It's that commitment and passion that has gotten him and his band where they are today. And you admire the fuck out of him for it.

His tight leather pants and sweat-soaked muscle tee accentuate his perfect body as he sings, leaving very little to the imagination. You occasionally peek at the audience, finding many young women screaming and in tears over your sexy husband. You just smile at the thought, these chicks really think they have a single chance in hell with him. And sure, he gets real up close at times, putting his arms into the crowd to let them touch him. But it's all part of the act, and he doesn't have any interest in them whatsoever. He goes home with you, makes love to you, spends his every free moment with you.

Tonight is the final stop on the band's world tour. And you can't say you haven't been anticipating the end, so you can spend some quality time with your love. You've been on the road and on flight after flight for over a year now. It's been long, and grueling, and Eddie's exhausted, though he never shows it. But after tonight, you get three whole months to relax and recuperate before the band begins recording their third album.

He's been working tirelessly on the songs every night, scrawling notes, chords, and lyrics on napkins or scraps of paper when he can't locate his notebook. He's made sure that once the curtains are drawn, and the stage lights go out, there will be no interruptions of your special time together. Eddie has promised to give you every ounce of his undivided attention, and to shower you with expensive dinners, and spa treatments, and drug-fueled fucking. But, as amazing as all of that sounds, all you truly want is him.

Between press junkets, industry parties, and magazine shoots, Eddie's been remarkably busy. You get to come along for most of it, but he's unfortunately preoccupied with networking and dealing with shallow assholes to a point where you feel a little left out. Well, that is until said shallow assholes try to make a move on you. You don't entertain them for a single millisecond, but it's annoying to have creepy label execs and talent agents playing grabass at various mansions belonging to the likes of Ozzy Osbourne and Axl Rose. Eddie typically notices it happening, and nips that shit in the bud. But there have been a couple times where you had to sock one of the elderly bigwigs in the nose for trying to slip a hand under your dress.

Despite the obvious negatives of this lifestyle, you love watching Eddie and the others perform their hearts out night after night. This journey the five of you have embarked on has been mind-blowing. You've been able to see the whole world, and meet tons of amazing people. This whole experience, even from your second-hand point of view, is something to be cherished forever.

You notice the band is nearing the end of the song, and you watch as a couple tears squeeze their way from Eddie's eyes, smudging his thick eyeliner down his cheeks. Other than you, his true love is the stage. Performing means so damn much to him, and to know that it's over for now isn't easy. There will no doubt be another tour within a couple years time, along with award show performances and music festival sets. He loves sharing his music, his message, with the world. To have a connection like that with thousands of people is something he holds dear. He never thought he would get this far, and he is thankful for every last second of it.

A moment later, Eddie slams out the last few chords like his life depends on it. You can tell he's channeling his intense emotions into his guitar, trying to keep himself together. When he hits the final note, he falls to his knees as the sound splits the air. The crowd erupts with applause and cheers, and Eddie stays on the floor for a second with his chest heaving. He slowly stands, turning to look back at his bandmates. He beckons them to the front of the stage, and they leave their instruments to join him in a small line before his mic stand. He huffs a couple more breaths, throwing his arms over Gareth and Jeff's shoulders.

"I just wanna take a second to thank you all for bein' here tonight. This tour has been the shit dreams are made of, and we wouldn't be here without you, the fans. We can't wait to do this all again, whenever the fuck that'll be." He chuckles, still breathing hard. The others laugh with him, smiling wide as the high of performing rushes through their veins. "But until then, we've been Corroded Coffin. We love you, and goodnight, Amsterdam!" Eddie ends with a shout, hyping up the crowd again. Him and the others wave goodbye to the fans, and walk off the stage for the final time tonight. Eddie runs to you immediately, scooping you up into his glistening arms.

You shriek in surprise at his sudden actions, wrapping your arms around him to hang on. "You were amazing as always, baby. I'm so proud of you, my sexy rockstar." You smile, planting a messy kiss on his lips. His sweat transfers onto you, but you don't care. You notice his chest shuddering and hot tears meeting your flesh as you kiss. You pull away, having him set you back down. "Oh, baby. I know, c'mere." You pull him into your embrace, and he squeezes you hard as he lets out a few sobs. "I know, love. But there'll be more shows in the future, and you killed it every time." You comfort him, allowing him to feel everything that's been brewing inside him today. Ever since this morning, he's been on the verge of tears at the thought of the tour ending.

"Doin' alright, Munson?" Alex asks as the three guys approach you.

"He's taking it a little hard. He'll be okay." You reply, stroking Eddie's damp hair with your hand to calm him down.

"We kicked ass, man." Jeff says, and he and the others huddle around you in a group hug. Harmonizing sniffles can be heard in this bundle of bodies, and stray tears fall from everyone's eyes, it's a very heartfelt moment.

"Damn straight! And tonight was definitely our best so far." Gareth chimes in, slightly muffled in your huddle.

Eddie sniffs harshly, wiping his eyes as he pulls away from you all. "Ugh, sorry, guys. Shit got to me more than I thought it would!" He lets out a weak laugh, exhaling shakily to keep himself from breaking down again.

"Don't sweat it, man. It's been a crazy night. And I dunno 'bout you guys, but I'm ready to take a loooong siesta for three months." Jeff says with a tired grin, the adrenaline of performing quickly wearing off as you listen to the crowd file their way out of the stadium.

"I second that, we'd better get to the airport. It's a long flight back home." You reply, taking Eddie's hand. The others nod in agreement as you walk together. You gather your coats and bags from the dressing room, and say goodbye to the crew members. Your limo is waiting outside in the snowy night, with perfectly set heat and plenty of booze to warm you up. The air nips your nose, making you shiver in your fur coat. Eddie puts his arm around you as you walk through the private parking lot. You all slide into your respective seats, and you lay your head on Eddie's shoulder. He keeps you close, needing to lean on you to avoid more tears.

The driver pulls away once you're all situated, knowing exactly where to go to set you on your eleven-hour flight back to Los Angeles. "I just can't believe it's over, Y/N." Eddie says quietly, not wanting to disturb the others as they've already passed out from exhaustion.

"I can't either. It's been a crazy year and some change. But I look forward to us having some alone time for once." You giggle, thinking of all the things you're gonna do with him once you get home.

"I know it hasn't been easy for you to follow me on the road, sweetheart. But you have no idea how much I appreciate it. I don't think I could've made it through all of this if you'd stayed in LA." Eddie replies, turning your body to put your legs across his lap.

"I'm really glad I tagged along, Eds. We've seen the whole goddamn world! How many people get to say that? And I had to be here, I always cheer you on, baby. I'm your good luck charm." You say sweetly, laying your head on his chest as he holds you close. You resist the urge to fall asleep in his lap, knowing you'll have plenty of time to rest on the jet.

"That you are, darling." He presses a kiss to your hair, inhaling the scent of your expensive shampoo. He sighs at the sweet, floral notes wafting off the strands. It's become a comforting smell for him. "I love you, Y/N. So much." He whispers, choking back another batch of tears.

"I love you too, Eddie. I can't wait to be back home with you, in our bed, away from all the cameras and fangirls." You nuzzle against him, counting down the minutes until you can turn the world off for a while.

"Oh? But I thought that was your favorite part." He says sarcastically, drawing muted laughs from both of you.

"You're lucky I'm too tired to rant about how 'difficult it is being in the public eye'." Your tone is anything but serious, ending in a contented sigh as your eyes flutter closed.

"You fallin' asleep, love?" Eddie asks, concerned that this life is too much for you at times. You never complain, but he can tell the constant attention he and the guys receive makes you feel a bit forgotten about at times. He tries to remind you how much of a priority you are, buying you flowers at every tour stop, having at least one meal a week with just the two of you, fucking you silly whenever possible. But these things can only do so much, because at the end of the day, you aren't in the band.

You may tag along to events and meetings, but you're seen by others as Eddie's arm candy at best. You're sat in a corner with the other 'groupies', stuck having less-than-engaging conversations about how big your mansion is and what designers you wear, while the big boys do the 'real talking'. Said groupies don't ask you anything substantial, either. None of them even know you're on your way to publishing your first novel, which Eddie is immensely proud of. Not to mention all the assholes at said meetings and events, who think everyone's significant other is up for grabs at the right price. His stomach turns at the thought of how many sleazy people have offered him record deals, money, cars, drugs, among other things, for a 'night with your hot wife'. He shudders to think how many of his 'heroes' may have done such a thing to their own partners, in exchange for advancement in their careers.

"A little. I'm trying to wait 'til we get on the plane, though. Much as I love you, you don't make a very good pillow." You sigh, shifting uncomfortably in your spot. You're itching for a plush California king mattress, wanting to feel cool, satin sheets beneath your skin.

"Just a little bit longer, dollface. Then we can pass out in our seatbelts and wake up back in LA." He says soothingly, rubbing his hand up and down your back. You hum at the simple touch, letting your mind wander away from this conversation. You list off all the things you wanna do with Eddie inside your head:

1. Go to In-N-Out, I've been missing their chocolate shake and animal-style fries like no other.

2. Fuck, and fuck, and fuck.

3. Cuddle in bed and watch cartoons all day.

4. A long, hot bath with all the trappings. Candles, chocolates, fancy soaps, wine, and some heavy metal love songs on the stereo.

5. More fucking, obviously.

6. Cook a nice meal for Eddie, my famous lasagna.

7. Even more fucking, thank God for birth control.

By the time you finish your internalized list, the limo has pulled up to the runway where your jumbo jet awaits you. The lights outside are blinding when the door is opened for you to step out, waking the guys up from their nap. "Aw, fuck!" Gareth yelps, shielding his eyes.

"My apologies, sir. We have arrived at the airport." The driver says in a thick Scandinavian accent.

"No sweat, man. You're just doin' your job." Gareth replies, rubbing the sleep from his face. All five of you step out into the cold once more, quickly making your way up the steps into the airplane. The door is shut shortly after your bags are loaded in, closing you off from the outside world. The guys strap into their reclining seats, and Eddie pulls you along to your private bedroom for the final time for the next three months. You both plop onto the bed, melting into the soft mattress.

"Fuck, this bed has never felt so good." You groan, clumsily kicking off your shoes and removing your coat. You slide up the bed, getting into your safety belt. Eddie follows behind, clicking the metal buckle together for himself. You both lie down, pulling up the covers. "You ready, Eds? I know take-off is still a bit rough for you." You take hold of his hand, brushing your thumb across his knuckles.

"Baby, this plane could fuckin' explode at this point. I'm too tired to give a shit, I just wanna go home." He says, slightly whiny while his eyelids begin to weigh a thousand pounds. He's gotten a helluva lot better with his fear of flying. He barely even flinches anymore at every little bump or dip the aircraft makes during your journey.

"I feel that." You giggle, realizing you forgot to turn off the bedroom light. You groan aloud at the thought of getting up again. Eddie's about to ask what's wrong, when you force yourself upright and hop off the mattress to flick the switch. You return to your husband a second later, happily clicking yourself back in place.

"Thank you, I was thinking of doing that. But I honestly cannot get up." Eddie chuckles, pulling you over to spoon you through your seatbelts.

"No problem, babe. I don't think I can get up again until we land." You bring one of his hands to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss to it. Before you can say anything else, you hear Eddie's light snoring just behind you. He's out like a light, and you're barely hanging on to the waking world yourself. The plane is beginning to take off, and you knock out the second the wheels leave the ground. You don't wake up for about six hours, until the plane hits some minor turbulence. Your stomach drops when you feel the slight fall, but you settle back down after checking your surroundings to ensure everything is fine.

"Baby, we've landed." Eddie coos, gently shaking you awake once you've reached your final destination. It's still technically the middle of the night in LA due to the large time difference between here and Amsterdam. You really don't want to get up, needing at least another half a day to just pass the hell out. You whine at Eddie's words, rolling over in bed while bringing the blanket up to hide your head. "Sweetheart, we gotta go." He says, opting to scoop you out of your nest and carry you. He pulls away the blanket, undoing your seatbelt so he can pick you up.

"Ugh, Eds. I don't wanna move, I'm so fuckin' tired." You grumble, putting your arms around his shoulders all the while. He doesn't bother to pick up your shoes or fur coat, you won't really need them for a couple months. Someone will come by to pick up any belongings left behind and send them to your respective homes anyway.

"I know, darling. That's why I'm carrying you. You're a stubborn sleeper." He chuckles quietly, walking the both of you out to the main cabin in bare feet. The guys are waiting by the door, looking more exhausted and jet-lagged than they have all year.

"You're gonna go home like that?" Alex asks, quirking an eyebrow in your direction.

"Yeah, man. They'll send our shit over anyway, and Y/N needs her big, strong man to get her home safe." Eddie smirks, looking down at you nuzzling into him. You let out a sleepy noise or two, high in pitch and oddly cat-like. Oh, princess. You're melting my heart here, he thinks to himself.

"Whatever you say, dude." Alex laughs, finding your affectionate display rather adorable.

Eddie carries you down the stairs of the plane. The warm California air hits your skin as you disembark. You get into another limousine, and the guys are dropped off one by one at their individual homes. It's just you two now, making the long trip all the way to Beverly Hills. Being married to the frontman of the hottest metal band in the business certainly has its perks. The limo drives through the tall gate after it opens, trailing down the winding driveway until you reach the front entrance of your massive house.

The house, well, mansion, is truly something to behold. It's smaller than most in the area, but far be it from you to complain about a slight difference in square-footage. Especially when you live in one of the most well-known and coveted neighborhoods in the world. There's ten bedrooms and eight bathrooms, most of which are attached to said bedrooms. Marble flooring and countertops, state-of-the-art fixtures and appliances, an olympic-sized pool, and a full staff of maids, cooks, drivers, landscapers, etc. are just a few of the perks that Eddie's megastardom affords you. You take none of it for granted, but you're certainly comfortable. You've told Eddie before that you feel weird having people wait on you hand and foot all day, but he insists that you deserve to be spoiled.

That being said, you both make sure the staff are treated well and paid more than enough due to the size of the place. You know all of their names, and give them as much time off as you possibly can. You try your best to get to know them somewhat personally. You hate the idea of faceless servants running about the place, all while avoiding eye-contact or casual conversation. You find the concept of that creepy and demeaning. "We're home, Y/N." Eddie whispers, trying to see if you're awake.

"Okay. Can you carry me to bed, baby?" You ask, snuggling further into his warm body.

"No need to ask, sweetheart. I've got ya." He presses a kiss to your head. You hold on tight as Eddie carries you through the threshold of your not-so-humble home. He treks up the stairs and into the master bedroom, laying you to rest for as long as you want once he helps you remove your clothes. He climbs into bed after you, keeping you warm and safe in his arms. He gives you a few more kisses, this time to the back of your neck. You only half-feel them as you're pretty much asleep again. "Sleep well, princess. I love you." His words fall on deaf ears, your breath entering and leaving your chest at a slow, steady pace.

You don't wake up again until around 9am, having slept for at least twenty hours. A sliver of light peeks through your dark curtains, shining directly into your eyes. "Fuck." You mutter, turning over to look at the clock. You can't believe you managed to sleep for so long, and that you feel pretty well-rested on top of that. You sit up in bed, rubbing your eyes. Eddie's still sleeping soundly beside you. His face is buried in the pillows, and his limbs are splayed about clumsily. You notice a rolling cart sitting beside the bed, it must have been brought in by one of the cooks. You take a look at the contents, all of which make your mouth water beyond belief. There's muffins and scones, fresh-squeezed orange juice in a large pitcher, a chilled bottle of champagne, and two perfectly warm burgers, wrapped up in a paper you'd recognize anywhere. "In-N-Out, hell yeah." You smile, mixing yourself a boozy mimosa and taking one of the burgers to eat in bed.

"Mornin', my love." Eddie says from behind you, almost making you drop your glass.

"Jesus, Eddie! Don't scare me like that!" You shout, looking back to see him sitting up in bed. He's leaning back on his hands, his bare chest flexing as he breathes. A sleepy smile sits on his face, and his thick locks are an absolutely frizzy mess.

"Sorry, doll. Didn't mean to startle you. That smells good, though. You wanna pour me a drink and bring that other burger over here? I'm starving." He speaks sweetly, his stomach making hungry gurgles.

"Sure thing, hot stuff. How'd you sleep?" You set your glass down, picking up the empty one to make Eddie a drink.

"I slept alright, had some weird-ass dreams. But that always happens when I'm jet-lagged. Oh, happy Valentine's Day, by the way." He says with a laugh, knowing you've forgotten what day it is.

"Oh my god, is that today?" You ask, smacking your head at your forgetfulness.

"Did you really forget?" Eddie scoffs, his mouth falling open in exaggerated disbelief.

"No.....yes." You cringe. "I mean, I got you a present, but I can't believe I forgot about today. God, I'm a terrible wife." You groan, bringing the food over to the bed. You hand Eddie his glass and sandwich, plopping down beside him with your head hanging low.

"Don't worry about it, baby. I've got something planned that we'll both enjoy." He smirks, his tongue playing at the edge of his mouth.

"Oh? And what would that be?" You ask, dying to know what he's got planned.

"Oh...you'll see. I've got the whole day mapped out. Speaking of, we have a couples massage in..." He glances at the clock to check the time. "About an hour. So, we'd better eat up and grab a quick shower." He unwraps his burger to take a massive bite. He groans at the taste, his eyes rolling into his head for a moment. "Damn, I've missed these." He chuckles with his mouth full.

"Me too. Gina knows us well." You reply, taking a long gulp of your mimosa. You both continue eating, the messily strewn about blankets barely covering your bodies dressed in only panties and boxers. Eddie glances at your tits occasionally, but not in an ogling way. It's more so in admiration of your stunning beauty. You've been together for a very long time, and yet you both still feel that giddy honeymoon-phase sentiment towards one another. You've had your fair share of spats, but it's never anything you can't solve with a compassionate talk and some make-up sex.

You finish up your breakfast, enthusiastically hopping out of bed together to head into the shower. Eddie starts the running water, and you remove your lace panties. His breath hitches at the sight of your nude body, and you walk over to him nice and slow. Your hands meet his chest, and you roughly push him up against the bathroom wall. The cool tiles meet his skin, making him shiver. "Hey there, angel. Is there something you want?" He asks with a grin. You can already feel his erection poking against you, and you reach down to palm him through his boxers.

"I think you know exactly what I want, Eds." You say lowly, smirking at the groan he lets out as you squeeze him. You pull on the waistband of his underwear, yanking the fabric down his legs. His cock stands at attention, a small bead of precum forming on the tip. He kicks the garment away, bringing his hands down to grab your ass. You moan at his actions, pumping him in your hollowed fist.

"Can't wait for tonight, huh?" Eddie chuckles, though he realizes he'd be lying if he said he wanted to hold off himself.

"No, I can't. I need you, Eddie. We've barely fucked all week, and it's been so hard to keep my hands to myself." You bring your lips to his, hungrily shoving your tongue into his mouth. You continue to stroke his dick, winding him up. He moans down your throat, bringing a hand around to your front. He slips between your legs and feels how wet you are for him. Your arousal spreads on his fingers, which plunge into your pussy a moment after. "Fuck, baby. Let's not waste water, I think we're in a drought again." You say through a whimper, leading him backwards into the shower. The hot water soaks your bodies, and Eddie pulls away from you. He turns you around, pressing a hand on your back to have you bend over. You place your palms against the wall, waiting for him to push into you.

"We'll have to make this quick, sweetheart. The masseuses will be here soon." Eddie says, before shoving his length inside you. His thick inches fill you up perfectly, kissing your cervix. "Shit, so fuckin' wet for me." Eddie groans, taking a firm hold of your hips. He pulls almost all the way out, and then slams back in.

"Oh, god." You moan out as he brushes your g spot just right. "More, Eds. Please." You can't help begging, it feels like forever since the last time you had sex. Although, in reality it was only three days ago.

"You got it, angel." He breathes out, holding your hips even tighter. Eddie pulls back again, and begins fucking you at a rough yet steady pace. His dick thrusts into you swiftly and repeatedly, pushing you towards a rapidly building orgasm.

"Feels so good, baby." You praise, savoring every time his tip rubs against your sweet spot. His hand leaves your waist, smacking your ass. "Fuck." You groan at the pleasurable sting, wanting him to do it again. He anticipates your desires, switching hands to hit the other side. "God, I love it when you do that."

"And I love how much you moan for me, darling. Turn around." Eddie says, pulling out of you. You do as he asks, your back against the wall. He lifts your legs up, holding tight onto your thighs. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, and he rams his cock up into your pussy.

"Fuck, Eddie! Just like that!" You cry out, your mouth hanging open to release vulgar moans and curses. Your breasts bounce as he keeps it up, his eyes glued to them through the steam filling the room.

"Your tits look so good when I fuck you, baby." Eddie groans, lowering his head to plant messy kisses on your chest. It's hard to manage, given the speed of him thrusting into you, and the water making your bodies all slippery along with your sweat. He closes his mouth around your nipple, worrying the pebbled flesh with his teeth. You whimper at the sensation, finding your end is quickly approaching.

"I'm getting close, love. Go faster, harder. You fill me up so well." You egg him on, needing him to send you over the edge. You tug roughly on his soaked hair, drawing a low groan from him. He's still nibbling on your tit, increasing his pace. His dick slips against the special spot inside you over and over. You're so close, you almost can't stand it. "Make me cum, Eddie. I need it so bad." You whine loudly, your walls fluttering around him.

"I know, princess. I'm close too, just hold on for me." He murmurs, trying to readjust as his hands are losing their grip. But his foot slips on the floor of the shower, making you both tumble down onto the tiles. You grunt at the impact, still connected like puzzle pieces. Eddie lands on his ass, and you on your knees. His dick hits deeper inside you than before, making you gasp. The landing was softer than you expected, leaving you straddling his lap. You don't want to stop, and it seems neither of you are hurt. So you proceed to ride him, bouncing like your life depends on it. "Keep going, baby. You're such a good girl for me." Eddie encourages you with a grin, his hands on your waist to lead you. Your chests rub against one another, stimulating your nipples. You both can't stop moaning, the sounds echoing in the room. Your breath fans hot and heavy in one another's faces from your proximity.

You lean forward slightly, wanting to speak into Eddie's ear. He loves when you talk dirty to him this way, it's almost guaranteed to make him lose his cool entirely. "Rub my clit, Eds. I'm so close. You want me to soak your cock? I'll be such a good girl for you." You say seductively, grinning at the filthy noise that leaves his lips in response. He obliges your request, bringing a hand between your legs to swirl circles on your bundle of nerves. "Oh, god." Your eyes squeeze shut, just seconds away from reaching your high. "I wanna make you lose control, baby. I wanna feel you fill me up with your cum, it's so warm. I love the way it mixes with mine, we taste delicious together." You bite his earlobe, feeling the knot within you finally snap. "Fuck!"

"Good girl." Eddie feels your cunt clamp down on him as you continue to bounce through your orgasm. Your thighs shake uncontrollably, and the sounds escaping your lips are all he needs to join you in utter bliss. "Shit, I'm cumming, angel." He grunts, his hips jerking upwards while his stomach tenses. His load spills into you, thick white spurts coating your pussy. Your heads rest on one another's shoulders, effectively collapsing as you try to catch your breath. Your hearts pound in sync, thumping rapidly against your ribs. "I love you, Y/N." Eddie pants out, turning his head to press a kiss to your shoulder.

"I love you too, Eds. That was amazing." You reply before lifting yourself up off his softened length. You wobble slightly when you stand up, leaning back against the wall. Eddie gets up after you, already reaching for the shampoo. The rest of your shower is quite rushed, and you barely manage to dry off and get into your robes before you hear knocking on your bedroom door.

"Come in." Eddie says, and in walks two women carrying folding massage tables. They're dressed almost like nurses, all white tops and pants that resemble scrubs. The business name of 'Majestic Massage' sits in elegant script on the breast of their uniforms, embroidered in navy blue thread. Their hair is held in tight, slicked-back buns, and they smile brightly at you as they set up. You and Eddie sit together in an armchair while you wait. You make light conversation with the ladies, which they seem to appreciate. You don't imagine many of their clients bother to do the same.

The women, whose names you find out are Alice and Fiona, unfold the tables, and set out various scented lotions and massage oils on a rolling cart you had brought in. When you notice they're just about ready, you get out of Eddie's lap to go over to the stereo. You put on some music, Metallica, no less. "That's a new one." Alice says with a giggle.

"Oh, is it too weird? I can put on something else-" You offer, realizing it might interrupt their 'flow' or something.

"No no, it's alright. You two are just...different. In a good way." Fiona assures you with a kind glance.

"Thanks. We highly appreciate you two being here on our special day." You reply, feeling a bit awkward when you think about the dynamic of this situation. These women might have boyfriends or husbands of their own waiting to spend the day with them. And here they are servicing you and Eddie instead. Alice picks up on your sad thoughts, finding the sentiment very sweet. She's never had a client care even a little bit about her personal life.

"Please, don't feel bad. Your husband is paying us good money, Miss. This is our job, and we enjoy it." She insists, beckoning you and Eddie to take your places on the tables.

"Heart of gold, this one. I'm the luckiest man in the world, aren't I, ladies?" Eddie chuckles, walking ahead of you, smacking your butt on the way.

"Yes, sir." Fiona replies, slipping back into detached professionalism. You hold back the intense cringe that washes over you. You know there's nothing actually wrong here. You're being perfectly polite, and these women were hired to take care of you. But you'll never get used to this, much as you'd like to. You can't help but see the person behind the uniform in situations like this, and it makes you stick out like a sore thumb. "Please, Miss. Come, let us help you relax." She speaks again, drawing you out of your own mind.

"Right. Sorry." You say shortly, taking your place on the table. You lie face down in the donut-shaped headrest, taking off your robe. The masseuse lays a towel over your ass, covering your most sensitive parts. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, trying to enjoy your romantic day with Eddie.

"You okay, sweetheart?" Eddie asks, turning his head in the hole to look at you.

You meet his gaze, awkward as it is to achieve. "Yeah, I'm fine." You say, though you're not sure even you believe that bullshit.

"Honey, you've gotta get used to this sometime. Look, I get that having maids and stylists and other people like that waiting on you makes you feel bad. But it shouldn't, you know why?" He questions.

"Why?" You ask, already knowing what he's going to say.

"Because it's not that big a deal. They're paid well, at least by us. We aren't mean to them, or turning our noses up at them, right? We're already better than, like, ninety percent of the other people they work for. They make our lives easier, that's all. We aren't taking advantage, or treating them like slaves. Okay?" He explains calmly, as he has multiple times already.

"I know. I think that's what it is, though. The fact that almost everyone else treats them poorly, and I don't want to be part of that. I get that I'm being a bit silly, but this lifestyle can feel cold and heartless sometimes." You reply, just as Fiona brings her oiled palms up to massage your shoulders. She uses just the right amount of pressure, working at the tense knots that reside there from the stress of the tour. "Mmm." You moan quietly, melting at her magic fingers.

"I know, baby. But maybe if we lead by example, others might change for the better. You never know." Eddie replies, letting out his own blissful sound while Alice rubs a hardened tangle in his back.

"Fuckin' unlikely. I may be a lifelong fan of the Girls, Girls, Girls album, but the way Tommy Lee treats his assistant is abhorrent." You retort, recalling how handsy he was getting with that poor girl. She couldn't have been older than nineteen. You'd managed to wedge yourself between them at one point, which only accomplished getting both you and Eddie thrown out of his house. Eddie wasn't upset, much. He knows you had good reason to intervene, but it certainly burned any potential bridge for a future collaboration with Tommy or any Crüe members. Good riddance, honestly.

"I know, love. I wish it weren't like this. But we do our best to change things, and that's all we can do." He says, sympathizing with your thoughts. He's far from numb to the issues of this industry, and he does the same as you when he sees something wrong. But that doesn't guarantee the behavior will stop. If anything, it makes everyone else look at the two of you like you've grown extra eyeballs.

"I suppose." You sigh, putting the thought away for a while. You're meant to be calm and loose, fully accepting the sensations of the massage. The rest of your reserved hour goes smoothly, and you focus on the music and the warm hands working on your body. By the end of it, you feel like an entirely new person. You give Alice and Fiona a massive tip, and they give you many thanks as they leave.

"Feel better now?" Eddie asks, pulling you into him once you're dressed in your robes again. He smiles at you, brushing your hair behind your ear.

"Mmm, yeah. It was really good." You lean in for a kiss, pressing your lips to his. You hum into him, pulling away a moment later to avoid heating things up again. You should save something for tonight.

"Good, and it's just the start of the amazing day I have planned." Eddie replies, a joyful gleam in his eye at the thought of absolutely spoiling you today.

"What's next on the agenda, baby?" You ask with a giggle.

"Well, you are gonna go shopping for an outfit to wear out to dinner. That includes lingerie, sweetheart. You can pick anything you want, you look sexy in everything." His large hands run up and down your sides, and he lets his eyes wander around your robed body as he speaks.

"And what are you gonna do when I'm gone?" You question, blushing at his lustful stare.

"I will be setting up the bedroom for tonight, that's all I can say. Now, get dressed and take the limo. And then meet me in the living room when you come back, okay? And no peeking!" Eddie instructs, pointing a warning finger at you.

"Okay, okay. I promise I won't spoil the surprise. Ugh, you treat me too well, Munson." You give him another kiss, long and warm this time. He can't resist squeezing your ass in his hands, and you feel him growing hard beneath his robe. "Mmm, naughty boy. I'd better get moving if I'm gonna look stunning tonight." You pat your hands on his chest, moving away to open your walk-in closet. You want something comfortable, and not too fussy since you'll be trying on lots of clothes today. You settle for some tight jeans, a vintage t-shirt, and some converse. That's another 'odd' thing about you. Unless it's absolutely required, you just can't be bothered to dress extravagantly at all. You find most high fashion and designer labels to be rather uncomfortable. That's not to say you have no sense of style, you just prefer keeping things simple.

You bring your desired outfit to the bed, along with a basic bra and panty set. You remove your robe, laying it over one of the chairs in the room. Eddie whistles at your naked body, which makes you laugh. "Damn, what a view!" He says, finding some clothes of his own to throw on. He follows your lead, keeping it simple until dinner tonight. You both dress quickly, no time to waste as there's so much to do. Eddie puts on some eyeliner in the bathroom, and you apply a light yet full face. Nothing crazy, just enough to enhance your flawless features. Eddie leads you to the front door once you're ready to go, opening the hulking thing by the ornate handle. "I'll see you later on, baby. Dinner is at 7:30, so take as much time as you need. I love you." He pulls you into a light kiss, giving your butterflies.

"I love you too, Eds. And I'm looking forward to tonight." You smile at him, turning to walk outside and into the limousine waiting for you. You slip into the leather seat, the driver, Jim, shutting the door for you. "Do you know where to go?" You ask through the small window between the backseat and the driver's end.

"Mr. Munson gave me all the details, ma'am. We'll be there in about twenty minutes." Jim replies, giving you a kind smile.

"Okay, thank you." You say back, looking out the window on your journey to wherever it is that Eddie has sent you off to. You watch as the car zooms past towering palm trees while the sun beats down on the city. Skyscrapers pierce the big blue, no clouds to be seen today. Tourists and socialites walk the streets, stopping for photos at the Hollywood stars. You see a girl working almost every corner, and a dealer or two hanging around not so inconspicuously outside businesses that are most certainly fronts for criminal activity.

Billboards and electric signs advertise everything under the sun for as far as the eye can see. An artful gallery of capitalism shoved in your face in pristine technicolor. Los Angeles, land of the consumer, home of the advertiser. The city often feels hollow, lifeless even. Everyone and everything feels phony. Like they're all made of cheap plastic, but labeled with a hefty price tag. That's not to say there aren't things you enjoy here. But if Eddie's career didn't rely on it, you'd live far, far away from a place like this. The limo stops outside a lavish lingerie shop, your first stop of the afternoon. "We have arrived, Miss. I'll be waiting out here for you." Jim announces, stepping out the driver's side to let you out onto the sidewalk.

"Thank you, Jim." You say politely, giving him a small wave as you walk towards the shop. You can see why Eddie chose it, the outside alone is quite the spectacle. The structure is a slick, sinful red building, with massive windows. Corsets, feather-trimmed robes, garter belts, bustiers, and crotchless panties are on display for all eyes to see. Every color and fabric you can imagine is at your disposal, dressed up perfectly on mirrored mannequins. You step inside, immediately greeted by a gorgeous young woman with a name tag that reads 'Tina'.

"Hello, and welcome to Le Boudoir. How may I help you today?" She asks in a chipper voice.

"Oh, um, I'm looking for something special for Valentine's Day." You reply, finding the space a little intimidating. The store is very large, with rack after rack of various forms of sexy underwear. All the furnishings are either that same cherry red or blinding silver as the window displays.

"Oh, who's the lucky guy?" Tina asks, and you can tell she's trying to suss out which celebrity you're attached to. She noticed you stepping out of the limousine, and all she saw was dollar signs.

"My husband, he's in a metal band. Corroded Coffin, I dunno if you've heard of it." You say awkwardly, you really hate to name-drop. But you get it, people around here get curious about the rich and famous. Tina's eyes widen, and her mouth falls agape.

"You're married to The Eddie Munson?!" She practically squeals. "I'm a huge fan!" Of course you are. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Sure, your husband is pretty amazing in every possible way. But fangirls seriously annoy you sometimes.

"Yes, I am. And I'm on a mission to find something that will drive him absolutely wild." You reply, laying on thick the fact that Eddie is your man.

"Well, you've come to the right place. What are you into? Leather, lace, silk? All of the above?" She's very eager to impress you, possibly thinking there's a chance she'll get something in return besides a sales commission.

"I'm not really sure. I don't want anything too complicated. But um...red is his favorite color." You hesitate on telling her that small fact. You've been trained pretty well by the band's PR team to not disclose any personal information about Eddie or the others. So you instinctively get a bad taste in your mouth after the words slip from your lips. It's innocuous, really, you're sure Eddie has probably revealed said fact in a silly teen magazine interview before.

"Ooh, a man of taste. Well, about half of our store is some shade of red. It's a very popular color. I'll take your measurements, and then I'll bring out some choices for you to try on. Sound good?" She says simply, clearly she's pretty good at her job.

"Great. Thanks." You reply, finding yourself feeling uncomfortable all over again. She knows you're married to Eddie, that he's a famous rockstar. But she doesn't even know your name, or care to. Though he talks about you every chance he gets, it's difficult for people to acknowledge your existence in his life. The media and the fans would much rather he appear single and available, so it's almost like you aren't real at times.

You spend well over three hours trying on countless bodysuits, bras, camisoles, and fishnets, tirelessly trying to find the perfect thing to wear for your man. Nothing feels right, and you're overthinking every combination of items you put on. "Okay, I can sense we're having some trouble here." Tina says kindly from the other side of the velvet curtain you're changing behind.

"I'm sorry, I've just never felt very confident in this stuff." You sigh, turning your body every which way in the teddy you're currently dressed in. You're checking every angle, trying to see yourself as sexy. But it's not working, this trip might be a bust.

"Well, confidence is key when it comes to lingerie. But I understand, it's uncomfortable for lots of women. Hmm...there's still one thing we haven't tried. I'll go get it for you." Tina says sympathetically, her heels clicking away from you. You remove what you currently have on, waiting for the saleswoman to hand over her final option. She sticks the hangers through the curtain, and you gladly take them. "Now, when you put this on, don't overthink it. Just think 'I am beautiful, I am sexy, and my man is gonna love this', okay?"

"Okay, I'll try." You put on the ensemble piece by piece, only looking in the mirror to make sure you've fastened in properly until it's complete. You clip the stockings to the garter belt, finishing the transformation. You dare to take a good, long look at your reflection, remembering what Tina told you. I am beautiful, I am sexy, and my man is gonna love this. You repeat the phrase in your head a couple of times, drinking in your own form. A sheer, red lace bustier pushes your tits upwards, adorned with tiny bows down the middle and sides. The garter belt, crotchless panties, and trim of the stockings match the corset, making you a true vision in crimson. The fabric feels delicious against your skin, and hugs all your curves just right. Damn, I look good. You bite your lip, knowing that this is the one. Nice job, Tina.

"So, what are we thinking? It's very quiet in there." She pipes up, you imagine she's gotten a bit tired bringing you countless pieces of underwear today.

"It's perfect! I'll take it." You reply, unable to stop smiling at how gorgeous you look.

"Great! I just know Eddie is going to flip out!" She says excitedly. The way she says it is odd, as if she's thinking about Eddie seeing herself in this little get-up as opposed to you. The thought makes your blood boil, but you refuse to let her fantasizing get under your skin. You're the one that gets to have him at the end of the day, that's all that matters. Tina rings you up, packing the lingerie nicely in a large black bag. She hands it off to you, seemingly expecting you to do something else. Here it is, she's gonna ask for tickets to a show, or a goddamn autograph if you have Eddie swing by just for her. Shit, fans really lack boundaries sometimes. She's about to open her mouth to ask for God knows what, but you don't wanna hear it. Not on your special day.

"Thank you for the help, Tina. Have a good day. Name's Y/N, by the way, though you didn't bother to ask." Her jaw claps shut at your demeanor, swallowing her inappropriate request. Without another word, you walk out the doors. Jim's waiting for you, holding the limo door open.

"Everything go alright in there, ma'am?" Jim asks, noticing you're looking less than happy.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Where to next?" You change the subject, sliding into your seat.

"I'm not at liberty to say, Mrs. Munson." He chuckles, finding his opportunity to keep up the surprise Eddie planned for you rather fun. Jim loves working for the two of you. You're exceptionally kind to him, which is hard to find in his line of work. He closes your door, walking to the driver's seat once again. You ride down a few blocks, stopping outside the Dior shop on Rodeo Drive.

"Jesus, Eds." You mutter, shaking your head. He really is too much. This trip goes much smoother than the other, although the employees here are much more snooty than Tina at Le Boudoir. You try on a few dresses, but you don't really like any of them. That is, until they bring out a breathtaking red gown designed by John Galliano. The dress goes down to the floor, layered with gorgeous, wispy tulle that's frayed at the ends. It's very edgy, very you. Not to mention, it matches the lingerie set you purchased earlier today. You purchase it and a pair of red heels immediately, feeling ecstatic and relieved that you've managed to find a gorgeous outfit to wear tonight.

"All set, ma'am?" Jim questions, noticing the huge smile on your face. He loves seeing how happy you and Eddie make each other. You're truly a fairytale couple in his eyes, a kind of love that comes around once in a lifetime.

"Yes. Thank you, Jim." You smile at him, waiting for the limo to start moving again. He takes you back home, with a few hours to go until dinner. You go back inside the house, finding the staff bustling around the halls and upstairs to your bedroom. You can hear Eddie making gentle commands up there, ensuring every detail is absolutely perfect. You let him be in order to maintain the mystery, setting your shopping bags down on the kitchen counter. You're feeling a bit peckish, so you grab one of the chocolate scones from the pantry as a small snack. Eddie's distinctive footsteps come down the steps, and he smirks when he finds you munching away on one of the kitchen barstools.

"Back so soon, sweetheart?" He says sweetly, wrapping his arms around your torso from behind. He plants a kiss on your neck, sending a flare up your skin.

"Yeah, I got the perfect thing to wear tonight. I can't wait for you to see it." You say through your chewing. "I see you've kept busy while I've been gone." You gesture at the staff running around the place.

"I certainly have. We're almost done, though. And I'm very excited to show it to you." Eddie replies seductively, nipping on your throat. You moan as you swallow, tilting your head to the side to allow him more access. "Don't fill up on pastries, baby. I'd hate for you to have no room left for dinner...and dessert." He chuckles darkly. He gives the hickey he's left on you a soothing lick, pulling away shortly after.

"Shit, you're such a tease, Eds." You whimper, shifting in your chair at the arousal spreading between your legs.

"I promise it'll be worth your while, sweetheart. I gotta finish this up, but I'll come back down and we can watch a movie." Eddie kisses your cheek before hopping back up the stairs to complete the arrangements.

You polish off your scone, scooping the crumbs off the counter and tossing them in the trash. You know you don't have to do that, but it's an old habit from childhood. Just because you have people to clean up after you, it doesn't mean you have to be a pig. You go to the living room, looking around your extensive collection of VHS tapes to find a film that fits the day. You think about something romantic first, like Pretty in Pink or Casablanca. But you're feeling like you want to go against the grain, opting for My Bloody Valentine instead. "Perfect." You say aloud to yourself. You and Eddie are avid horror fans, no matter the occasion. Today may be a holiday of romance, but this movie speaks to your common tastes more than anything else. And that's what you're meant to embrace today. Each other, for better or worse. It's all about connection, intertwining your hearts in your own unique way.

"Did you pick something, love?" Eddie says from behind you.

"Yes, I think I've found the perfect thing." You turn around so he can read the paper sleeve. He lets out an amused laugh, nodding in approval at your choice.

"I was hoping you'd go for that one, darling. Pop it in, and c'mere. I need my wife to cuddle me." He says lovingly, patting the spot beside him on the leather couch. You do as he asks, scurrying to the couch excitedly. Eddie puts a blanket over the both of you, and pulls you real close. "I love you, Y/N. I'm so glad I get to spend this day, and the rest of my life with you."

"I love you too, Eddie. You're my everything, and I wouldn't have it any other way." You share a brief kiss, before you lay your head on his shoulder. Eddie's hand strokes up and down your thigh as you watch the movie, making your skin tingle beneath the thin material. You hum quietly at the sensation, it really shouldn't turn you on so much. But you can't help it, the way he touches you is like nothing else on this earth. Your thighs squeeze together at the building pressure between them. He picks up on this, holding back the lusty chuckle forming in his throat. You're so easy to rile up, he'll never get enough of it. You feel yourself sinking further into the couch. You look at Eddie's face, finding he's still fixed on the movie while he teases you.

"Something wrong, princess? Is the movie too scary?" He asks playfully, noticing you staring. His head turns to look at you, finding your pupils blown out with desire. He bites his lip, knowing he's done for now.

"Uh-huh. But maybe if you kiss me, I won't be so scared." You form your mouth into a pout you know he can't resist.

"Anything for you, babe." He chuckles, cupping your cheek. He brings his face closer to yours, closing the gap between you. The kiss is smoldering, setting your insides on fire instantly. Your hands tangle into his hair, and he quickly maneuvers your bodies to lay over you. It's like you're dumb kids in high school again, clumsily making out on your couch. Only now there's no parents to catch you, no one to scare you into quickly separating while you readjust your fucked up hair and clothes. You both let out quiet moans as you kiss and grope one another, tongues rolling and hands wandering hungrily. You're still waiting until after dinner to do anything substantial, but it sure is fun to get yourselves amped up beforehand.

The movie ends without you realizing, and one of the maids, Angela, comes into the room. She turns off the TV for you, standing with her hands clasped before her. You take no notice, still lost in this red-hot embrace. She clears her throat to get your attention. "Pardon me, Mr. And Mrs. Munson. You said to remind you when it's time to get ready for dinner." She says matter-of-factly, ignoring your writhing bodies and vulgar noises.

"Thanks, Angela." Eddie replies between kisses as he doesn't want to stop.

"Eds, c'mon. You don't want to miss our reservation, do you?" You say through a laugh, gently pushing him away to let you breathe. You look to where Angela was standing, finding she's already left the room. You feel a bit bad, you can't imagine she enjoyed the view.

"I guess not." He whines before scooting off of you. You both stand, and he leads you by the hand to one of the spare bedrooms downstairs. "We'll have to get ready in here. I hope that's alright." He says as he opens the door. You see your shopping bags on the bed, and a garment bag holding whatever it is that Eddie plans to wear tonight. Your makeup has been brought down here for you, set out neatly on the bathroom counter. You notice there's a folding screen in the center of the room, allowing you both to have privacy when getting dressed.

"That's fine. I can't remember the last time we did the whole 'surprise outfit reveal' thing. Our wedding, maybe?" You smile at the memory and recall the image of Eddie's eyes tearing up at the sight of you in your wedding dress.

"That's right, angel. I wanted to make tonight extra special." He replies. "Go on, get ready. I had to call in a few favors to get the reservation we have, so we can't be late." He playfully shoos you away, handing you your bags so you can step onto the other side of the screen. You set the bags down, stripping off your clothes. They pile onto the floor, and your heart skips a beat when you pull the lingerie you bought from the bag. You slip into it so easily, unable to stifle a light moan at how sexy you feel in it. "You enjoying yourself over there, baby?" Eddie asks in a husky tone, trying to imagine what you look like right now. His mind runs wild with images of you in every kind of lingerie imaginable. It's taking everything in him to keep his erection at bay. It's just too easy to picture you in leather, or lace, kneeling before him or taking his cock from behind.

"I'm just very happy with my purchase at Le Boudoir, you're gonna lose it when you see me in this. Hell, even I'd fuck me right now." You laugh, continuing on to put on your Dior gown and high heels. It fits you like a glove, and so fucking comfortable it's unreal.

"I'm sure you look fucking amazing, doll. It's taking everything in me to be patient." He says, breathing heavier than usual.

"Me too, Eds. But I know the wait will be worth it." You zip up your dress, heading into the bathroom to your right. You close the door, applying some fresh makeup, still keeping things light, except for a bold red lip to match the rest of your look. You step back behind the screen once you're all ready, waiting to see how handsome Eddie looks.

"You ready, love?" He asks quietly, sounding nervous.

"Yes, darling." You reply with a smile. Eddie counts down from three, and you both step out from your hiding place to see each other. "Holy shit." You exhale, eyes widening at how amazing your husband looks. He's wearing a perfectly tailored black suit, with a bright fuschia shirt underneath. Half the buttons are left undone, Eddie loves to show off his chest. His tattoos peek out at you, and his necklaces twinkle in the light. He's got pristine, shiny black shoes on, and has kept his voluminous hair down. The deep brown locks cascade over his shoulders, framing his gorgeous face. "You look so fucking good, Eds." You smirk, noticing his signature rings still on his fingers.

"Not nearly as good as you, baby." He replies breathlessly. You look so beautiful, red from head to toe, his favorite color. Your makeup is flawless, and your hair hangs just right against your shoulders. He drinks in your form, admiring how your dress hugs your body in all the right places. He wasn't sure you'd find something you genuinely like at the Dior shop, it worried him that maybe he went overboard on that one. But to see you here like this, wearing one of the biggest smiles he's ever seen grace your face, he knows he made the right choice. "You are an absolute vision, princess." He gushes, sending a blush to your cheeks. He smiles at you, extending his hand. "Shall we?"

"Lead the way, handsome." You giggle, taking his hand. Eddie leads you back outside, assisting you in walking down the front steps in your gown. He helps you into the limo, following behind. The gifts you purchased for one another sit on the seat beside you. "So, where are we going?" You ask, unable to help yourself. You're absolutely buzzing with excitement.

"You'll just have to wait and see, Y/N." He says, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

"Ugh, you're killin' me!" You groan after failing to convince him to reveal this secret location. You decide to just go with the flow, every other surprise today has been pretty awesome. So there's no doubt that Eddie picked a great restaurant. You lay your head on his shoulder, snuggling up as best you can in this dress. You close your eyes, enjoying the smooth ride until the limo comes to a stop. You open your eyes, which are met with the 'most romantic restaurant in Los Angeles', Il Cielo. "Eddie! You did not!" You turn to him in utter shock.

"I did, baby. You deserve the best." He says with a smile. You step out into the setting LA sun, gazing at the rustic building before you. Lush vines and twinkling lights cover the outside, save for the elegant sign peeking out from the foliage. A few couples are seated outside, and you can see through the large front window that the inside is just as beautiful and busy. Eddie's brought you here only once before for a business dinner. The food was amazing, though you found the conversation boring. He always promised to bring you back, and until now you thought it would never happen. This place is always booked months in advance, especially for such a day as this.

"You're the best husband ever, you know that?" You press a hard kiss to his cheek, leaving a large mark of lipstick in the shape of your lips on his skin.

"Only because you're the greatest wife a man could ask for, angel." He returns your sentiment, holding your hand and the gifts in his grip to head inside. You make your way to the host's station, waiting behind the small line that has formed. When it's your turn, you're met with wide eyes from the maître d'. He seems to recognize Eddie, a real shocker there. He checks his list before either of you can speak, finding 'Munson' underlined on the paper with special instructions beside it.

"Right this way, Mr. Munson." He says to Eddie with a smile, looking at you for a moment. His smile grows wider, nodding to you. "Mrs. Munson." Well, that's the first time today that a stranger has actually acknowledged you as Eddie's wife. Not only that, seeing you here with him has made this particular stranger happy. You and Eddie follow the man to a table in a secluded corner of the restaurant. Real rose petals cover the white tablecloth, leaving space for your plates and glasses. The maître d' pulls your chair out for you, gently pushing you in.

"Thank you." You say kindly, and he nods.

"It is certainly an honor to have you dining with us tonight. My name is Alfonse, and I will be handling your table personally this evening. Shall we start off with some wine, or champagne, perhaps?" Alfonse speaks cordially, searching your faces for an answer to his offerings.

"Wine would be great, Alfonse. We'll take whatever you recommend." Eddie says, reaching for his menu to take a look.

"Of course, sir. I have just the thing for such a special night, with such a special lady." Alfonse replies, giving you a friendly wink. You giggle at his charm, opening your own menu. The man leaves you two alone to retrieve the finest bottle in the place.

"Well, he's very nice." Eddie says casually.

"I'll say. He's the first person I've met today that's actually treated me like your wife, and been polite about it." You reply, struggling to hide the bitterness in your voice from your earlier interactions. Eddie reaches a hand across the table, taking hold of yours.

"I'm sorry, princess. I wish people weren't so goddamn rude. They treat me like a fuckin' king in this town, and yet they seem to forget the fantastic queen I have by my side." Frustration laces his tone, but he keeps it at bay. Tonight is meant to be special, and no one is going to ruin that. "But I'll never forget, darling. I'll just have to do a better job at reminding everyone who I belong to." He says, looking at you seriously. He means it with all his heart, he'll make damn sure everyone understands how important you are to him. And if they don't like it, then they don't deserve his presence.

"I appreciate it, Eds. So, what are you ordering?" You ask, unsure of the answer yourself. Everything just sounds so good.

"To be honest, I don't know." His brows knit as he stares at the menu, he knows he won't be able to pronounce all these damn Italian words. "I'll just ask Alfonse what he likes. No one knows the food better than the employees." He sets the leather-bound booklet back on the table, and you follow suit.

"Good enough for me. There's no way I can read anything off this thing without sounding like an idiot." You laugh, drawing one from Eddie as well.

"My thoughts exactly." He smirks while he toys around with his silverware. "So, should we do presents before or after food?" He asks.

"We can after Alfonse comes back with the wine. Sound good?" You reply, looking around subtly to see if the man is coming by anytime soon.

"Sure thing, sweetheart." Eddie says, noticing Alfonse coming towards your table with a large, bulbous bottle with straw weaved around the bottom.

"Here we are, our finest chianti." The man says as he pours each of you a glass. "Are you ready to order?"

"Yes, we would actually like you to surprise us. You seem to be a man of taste, so we'll take anything you give us." Eddie smiles at him, hoping he's not asking too much.

"Certainly, sir. I appreciate your trust in me." Alfonse replies, happy to take the compliment. He knows exactly what to bring you, he only hopes it's up to your expectations. "I'll put the order in for you, it shouldn't be long." He says, leaving the bottle at the table and heading to the kitchen.

"Okay, present time." Eddie smirks, bestowing you with his gift. You hand off his, and wait for him to open it. "Oh, me first?" He asks when you're both sitting in silence for a moment. You nod, biting your lip. You can't wait for Eddie to see what you got for him. He pulls a velvet ring box from the bag, raising an eyebrow at you. "A little late for a proposal, don't you think?" He jokes, making you laugh. He's so unserious sometimes.

"Jesus, babe, just open it already!" You insist, and he flips open the lid. His mouth falls slack-jawed at what he finds inside. It's a thick, silver ring that's in a similar style to his usual ones. But this one is very distinctive, as it's sculpted in the shape of the demon's head logo from his old D&D club. ‘Hellfire’, they used to call it. You remember it well, you used to be a member yourself back in the day. Eddie stares at the ring for a moment, overwhelmed with nostalgia. It's been so long since he's played a campaign, or even thought about the game at all. A single tear rolls down his cheek, this has to be one of the most thoughtful gifts you've ever given him.

"Y/N, this is amazing. I-I can't believe you remembered." He says, giving you a meaningful look.

"Of course I did, Eds. I used to be in Hellfire too, ya know. You really like it?" You ask, somehow doubting your gift.

"I love it, angel. Thank you. It's a perfect reminder of where we started, and how far we've come." He slips it onto a free finger on his right hand, outstretching his arm to admire it for a moment. "It's pretty kickass, too." He smiles, putting his hand back on the table. "Okay, it's your turn now!" He says excitedly.

You reach into the bag in front of you, digging around in the tissue paper. You pull out a hardcover book, and your eyes go wide when you realize what it is. It's your novel, fresh from the publisher. The dust cover displays the title, Planet Mystique, in bold, purple lettering. It's a sci-fi/fantasy novel with plenty of action and romance, told from the perspective of a badass female protagonist. The illustration on the front is of said main character, Straana, riding a pink pterodactyl-like creature. She's wearing her full-body armor, brandishing a gleaming sword as she glides into the battle of the Gamma Rebellion. Your name graces the bottom of the cover, Y/N Munson. You can't believe you're holding this, the book isn't due for release for at least another six months. "How did you-" You start to ask, but Eddie cuts you off.

"I convinced the publisher to make a copy just for you. This is what it'll look like on the bookstore shelves, and I just know it's gonna be a bestseller. You'll be busy writing the sequels in no time. I'm so proud of you, sweetheart. You're unbelievably talented, and I can't wait for everyone else to see that." He says sweetly.

"Thank you, Eddie. I love it so much. This is fuckin' insane!" You exclaim, a little too loud. A few scowling faces of surrounding diners draw to you, and you blush hard while mouthing 'sorry' to them. Eddie chuckles at your embarrassment, you're too damn cute when your cheeks turn red.

"You're welcome, doll. Oh, look. Perfect timing." He says as Alfonse brings over your plates. The maître d' places the dishes in front of you, and the savory aromas hit your nostrils immediately. It looks amazing, and you wait for Alfonse to explain what it is he brought for you.

"For the lady, we have Burrata e Aragosta. Carnaroli rice with lobster and burrata cream sauce." Alfonse states, gesturing at your plate with a flourish. "And for the gentleman, Pappardelle al Cinghiale. It's homemade Pappardelle pasta, with roasted wild boar in its natural au jus, and Barolo wine. Enjoy, I'll come by with a very special dessert later on." He bows, going about his business once more.

You dig into your food, gathering a decent-sized bite of rice and lobster on your fork. You bring it to your lips, moaning at the rich, creamy flavors that explode in your mouth. "Mmm, fuck that's good."

"Sounds like it, I thought only I could make you moan like that." Eddie quips, taking in a mouthful of his own meal. He makes a similar sound, remembering what all the fuss of this place is about. The two of you devour every last bite of your food, the only sounds between you the occasional satisfied moan or slurp of wine. You can't help it, every single bite tastes so damn good. You set your fork down, wiping your mouth with the cloth napkin from your lap. Eddie does the same, and you both lean back in your seats and wait for dessert.

"Ah, I see you both have a very hearty appetite. Here is your dessert. Cuore di Cioccolata, a perfect end to your special meal." Alfonse says, taking away the empty plates and setting down a gorgeous, heart-shaped chocolate cake topped with raspberries before each of you. "Is there anything else I can do for you this evening? Or can I bring the check around?" He asks, in no rush at all.

"The check would be great, Alfonse. Thank you for taking care of us tonight." Eddie reaches into his suit jacket, pulling out his wallet. He takes the Amex out, handing it to the man. "Here, and tip yourself whatever our total is."

"Oh, that really isn't necessary." Alfonse attempts to be modest.

"No, no, I insist. You know what? To hell with it, double that!" Eddie exclaims, making the eyes of the maître d' bug out. He gasps, utterly shocked that your husband wants to tip him so much.

"Anything you say, sir! Thank you!" Alfonse beams, scurrying away to process the bill.

"Jeez, Eds. Sounds like Alphonse's wife gets to have a special night, too." You giggle, always amazed at Eddie's generosity. You suppose it's due to his more than humble childhood. Living in a trailer with his uncle Wayne, selling drugs to provide for himself. At his core, he's still that same geeky kid you first met all those years ago. Kind, sweet, always looking out for those who need him most. And now he has the disposable income to spoil his friends and family, and act as a charitable stranger to people who deserve it.

"Absolutely, he did a fantastic job for us tonight." He says simply, cutting into his cake with his fork. You do the same, gobbling up every last crumb as politely as you can manage. Alphonse returns with the credit card, setting it and Eddie's receipt on the table.

"Thank you for dining with us at Il Cielo. Please, take your time, and we hope to see you again soon." He says kindly.

"Thanks, Alphonse. Have a good night." You reply sweetly, and he chuckles.

"I see you liked the cake very much, ma'am." He wipes his thumb against his bottom lip, signaling that you've got a spot of chocolate on your face.

"Oh, sorry." You blush, wiping your mouth frantically with your napkin.

"It's quite alright. It's been a long time since I've seen a lovely couple like yourselves actually enjoy the food here." He says in a hushed tone, as if it's a secret that the other patrons here may go through life with their heads up their own rear ends.

"We really did, it was delicious." You reply with a smile.

"Glad to hear it. Have a wonderful Valentine's Day, you two." He leaves your table for the final time, tending to the front door once again. You and Eddie gather your things, heading outside.

"Holy shit, it's Eddie Munson!" A man in the line to get inside shouts. This causes everyone's heads in your vicinity to lock on to you and your husband.

"Great." Eddie mutters, rolling his eyes. He pulls you along a little faster, and other people start to gather and get in your way.

"I'm such a big fan! Can I have an autograph?" A young woman asks desperately.

"How about a picture?" Another shouts. The situation is quickly getting out of hand, sending your anxiety levels through the roof. You've told Eddie to hire a bodyguard a hundred times over, but he's insisted it's not necessary.

"Please? My daughter loves your music!" Another voice from an unknown location begs. You're verbally assaulted by person after person, wishing you could reply with the thoughts the attacks evoke.

"I love you! You're so sexy, Eddie!" No shit, Sherlock.

"Marry me Eddie! I wanna have your babies!" He's taken, bitch. Plus, ew.

"Who's this woman you're with? Is she a prostitute?" That's fuckin' rude. Do I really look like a hooker?

"When's the next album coming out?" Wouldn't you like to know?

"Is it true that you're secretly hooking up with your bandmates?" What the actual fuck?

You both just keep walking, giving no outward reaction to any of these invasive questions. You're struggling to find Jim in the growing sea of bodies. Eddie holds your hand tightly, his face hardening as the crowd only seems to expand, the edge of the street miles away now. Endless voices and faces ebb and flow like harsh waves, bombarding you with every form of unwelcome attention. You can't think straight, and someone tries to yank the gift Eddie gave you from your grasp. You almost fall over from the force of the grubby hands clawing at you. You look to Eddie to figure out what to do, but he's just as overwhelmed as you are, if not moreso.

"Alright! That's enough! If you don't stop harassing Mr. Munson and his wife, I'll report all of you to the police!" You hear Alphonse practically scream from the edge of the crowd. The rabid gathering turns to glare at him, but he is far from intimidated. "You should be ashamed of yourselves! I suggest you let them through to their vehicle right this instant! Otherwise, I've got some very bulky waiters who are just dying for a good fight." This statement seems to strike some fear into the vultures, which makes a wide grin spread across Alphonse's face. "I thought so. Go on now, get out of here!" They collectively flinch, quickly dispersing to reveal Jim standing a few feet away from you with the door open.

"Thank you, Alphonse. You didn't have to do all that." Eddie says apologetically. He knows it doesn't look so good to have a mob form outside such a fine establishment.

"No trouble at all, sir. Are you both alright?" He asks in genuine concern.

"Yeah, we're okay. I think we'll have to hire some security to keep that from happening again, though." Eddie laughs nervously, his heart still pounding from how awful that experience was.

"I highly advise you to do so. People are crazy, especially in La La Land." Alphonse jokes, putting you both at ease. "Alright, you'd better leave before they try to swarm again. Hopefully the rest of your evening goes smoothly."

"It certainly will. Goodnight, Alphonse." You reply, before turning away to finally get back in the limo to go home. You exhale loudly, puffing your cheeks while you slide into the seat. Eddie follows suit, and the door closes behind you. Finally, safe and sound again. You lean into one another, and Eddie puts his arm around you to keep you close.

"You okay, baby? I know that got pretty scary." He says softly. He feels awful that this happened, and on your special night of all things. He curses himself for not listening when you've hounded him to hire security.

"I'm okay, but some asshole tried to steal my book. Thankfully I'm stronger than whoever it was." You look down at the novel, noticing a small rip in the dust cover. Damn.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I promise I'll call around to get the best bodyguard possible, okay? I never want this to happen again." He kisses your temple, resting his forehead on yours afterwards. "God, did you hear some of the shit they were saying? Who in their right mind thinks any of that is okay?" He squints his eyes shut tight in disgust, utterly annoyed at the thought of it.

"I know! Like, do I look like a streetwalker? I hate to be that girl, but this is Dior, for fuck's sake!" You exclaim, gesturing wildly at your dress with your hands.

"You don't look like anything other than my gorgeous wife, baby." He says calmly, hoping to relax you after that unpleasant moment.

"Good, because I really like this dress." You chuckle, snuggling your head into the crook of his neck.

"I know you do, sweetheart." He laughs lightly. You spend the rest of the ride home in silence, needing some time to fully calm down. The moon has come out to play, and the street lights flash against the windows as you ride past. You pay no attention to the outside world, you've had more than your fair share of it for the time being. You're safe inside your Eddie-sized bubble, kept warm and secure in his strong arms.

"We've arrived at your home, Mr. and Mrs. Munson. Have a good night." Jim says with a yawn. He's looking forward to going home to his wife for the night. You and Eddie climb out of the limo, walking up the steps and into the house.

"You ready for your final surprise, angel?" Eddie asks, the anticipation building for the main event of the evening.

"More than anything, love." And with that, he gently leads you by the hand to the large doors of the bedroom. He lets go of your hand, slowly twisting the doorknobs. He reveals the room to you, which looks completely different to how it did this morning. You step inside, absolutely dumbstruck. There's lit candles all over the room, some in high-standing candlesticks, others on every table at Eddie's disposal. Rose petals cover the bed, which is dressed in beautiful red and black sheets. An ice bucket with a perfectly chilled bottle of champagne sits on the nightstand, along with a large box of chocolates. And the cherry on top, is a video camera positioned on a tripod a couple feet from the end of the bed.

"What do you think, baby?" Eddie asks lowly, standing right behind you after closing the doors. His arms wrap around your waist, and he nudges your hair aside to plant blazing kisses to your neck. You can feel him getting hard in his pants, and you instinctively press yourself back into him. He groans at the friction.

"It's perfect, Eds. Just like everything else you've done for me today. And the camera is a nice touch." You laugh breathily, slowly grinding against him repeatedly.

"I was hoping you'd like that." He smirks through his kisses. His hands wander up your front, taking hold of your breasts through your dress.

You moan at his groping. "I really do. I've always wanted to try it. And you know...I've heard it's just as fun to watch the tape back as it is to make it." You turn around, needing to touch him. Your hands run up and down his chest, slipping into his loosely buttoned shirt. You feel up his warm skin, trailing your fingertips anywhere you can reach. You trace his tattoos, drawing small groans from Eddie at the contact.

"You wanna help me get undressed, princess?" He asks, wanting so badly for you to strip him down.

"Sure thing, Eds." You grin, reaching for the lapels of his jacket. You push the fabric from his shoulders, and he slips the jacket off his arms. It lands on the floor, fully exposing his fuschia shirt. "God, you look so sexy in this suit, baby." You observe aloud, biting your lip. Eddie's always had such great style, although he looks good in everything. You undo the rest of his buttons at an agonizing pace, pulling the shirt tails out of his slacks. The shirt joins the jacket on the floor, leaving Eddie topless. His bare torso makes your mouth water, he truly is a sight to behold. Smooth, supple skin, subtle muscle definition, badass tattoos inked on almost every available inch, all illuminated beautifully in the candlelight. He's so damn perfect, leaving you wondering how you got so lucky.

"Uh-oh, has my rockin' body distracted you again, Y/N?" Eddie asks half-jokingly. He'll never get enough of the awestruck expression that permeates your face when you see him in all his glory.

"Maybe." You meet his eyes, no doubt your pupils are blown out with desire. You bring your lips to his, kissing him hungrily. You quickly move on to his jaw, his neck. You nibble and suck the flesh of his throat. He whimpers at the sensation, the sound of which makes arousal spread inside your panties. Your hand wanders downwards, quickly taking hold of his erection.

"Fuck, baby." He groans as his eyes flutter closed. You keep palming him, lowering your body to kiss his chest. You drag your tongue all around his skin, and playfully bite his nipples. "I love it when you do that." Eddie sighs blissfully, enjoying every move you make on him. You continue to bring yourself to your knees, kissing his stomach, dipping your tongue into his belly button. "That tickles." He says with a light laugh. You stop groping him for a moment, needing both hands to undo his belt. You get it open, and unzip his pants. He's still got his shoes on, but you don't care. You want his cock in your mouth, and you want it now. His slacks gather at his ankles, and you yank down his boxers to join them. His dick slaps his stomach, precum beaded on the tip.

"You want me to suck your cock, baby?" You ask teasingly, looking up at him with your hands resting on his thighs.

"Yes, please." Eddie begs. Your messing around has wound him up significantly. You take his length in your hand, pumping him a few times. "Shit." He groans, pleading with his eyes for you to give him what he wants.

"Patience, love. You'll get what you want." You coo, licking light circles around his tip. He moans again, anticipating your next move. You drag your tongue up and down his shaft, still warming him up. Helpless noises leave his lips, each of which sends a rush to your pussy. You're getting absolutely soaked, dripping onto your dress through the slit in your underwear. You finally take him in your mouth, effortlessly swallowing all his inches.

"Oh, god." He mutters, already getting close from all your teasing. His hand grips your head, fingers tangling in your hair. You bob back and forth on him, your nose brushing against his mound of hair with every stroke. You swirl your tongue around him as you work. You know all the right moves to drive Eddie wild. "Feels so good, baby. Such a good girl for me." He praises, drawing closer to his release.

"Mmm." You moan around him, sending vibrations through his lower half.

"You're gonna be the death of me, sweetheart." Eddie says, breathing heavily. He can't stop moaning, and calling out your name. Everything you're doing feels so fucking good. You've always been massively talented at giving head, and it's only gotten better with time. "Keep going, I'm almost there, baby." He instructs, his eyes squeezed shut as he awaits his release.

"Mmm." You moan again, becoming needy for your upcoming turn. You reach around to grip his firm ass, wanting to bring yourself closer to him. You massage the rounds of him, only increasing his pleasure. You gag on him over and over, your eyes watering as you work overtime to make him lose control.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum. Just a little more..." He trails off, gripping your head harder. He thrusts himself into you, chasing his high. You let him use you in any way he wants, breathing through your nose as he chokes you with his cock. "Such a good girl for me, angel. Taking my dick so well- shit. Gonna cum down that pretty throat of yours." He's babbling, his mind scrambling as his stomach begins to tense. "Fuck!" He shouts, his hips bucking into you harder than before. His hot load spills down your throat, his toes curling inside his shoes. He lets you out of his grasp, and you slip off of him. You gasp for air, swallowing hard. "Thank you, baby. That was so fuckin' amazing." He says lovingly, helping you stand up again.

"You're welcome, darling." You give him another kiss, which quickly turns into making out. Your tongues roll against each other, dialing up your desperation. You have to feel him touch you. Hands, face, cock, it doesn't matter. You want him in every way he'll give himself to you.

"I take it you want a turn now, sweetheart?" Eddie says quietly, your lips still barely brushing against one another.

"More than anything, Eds." You practically whine.

"Anything for you, baby. Let me get my shoes off, and how 'bout you lose the dress?" He politely commands, and you nod. You let him sort himself out, and you slowly pull the zipper down the back of your gown. You wait until Eddie's looking at you to take it off. "C'mon, love. Show me what you've got on under there." He bites his lip, becoming very excited again. You do as he asks, carefully pushing the dress down your body to reveal the lingerie you picked out for him. His eyes widen with every inch you expose, and his cock is already getting hard at the sight of you. You step out of the dress bunched at your feet, still standing in your high heels. You put your hand on your hip, posing casually.

"What do you think, Eddie? Do you like it?" You smirk, loving the awestruck expression on his face.

"You look gorgeous, baby." He says in disbelief. He moves closer to you, taking in every last detail. The bustier pushing your tits up, the ravishing red fabric sitting deliciously on your skin. He circles you, wanting to see all possible angles. "So fuckin' sexy, Y/N. God, I just want to take you right now." He meets your front again, unable to stop staring at your body.

"There's one last little detail you haven't seen, love." You spread your legs apart slightly, taking hold of his hand. You gently lead him between your legs, letting him feel for himself that there's no crotch in these panties.

His eyes widen further at this discovery, he gasps. "Oh, my god." He groans, his dick twitching at your little surprise. His fingers stroke your folds, spreading the excessive wetness around. You whimper at the sensation, your hips jolting when he runs over your clit. "And you're so fuckin' wet for me, too." You're gonna kill him at this point, every part of this is blowing his mind. He easily pushes two fingers into your cunt, curling them ever so slightly.

"Eddie." You moan out, putting a hand on his shoulder to keep your balance. He continues to finger you while walking you backwards to the bed. You let out muted moans, your insides setting alight as he pleases you. He pushes you down onto the bed, taking his digits out of you for a moment. You whine at the loss, but quickly realize he's just turning on the camera. The red blinking light comes on, and you're officially being recorded. You scoot backwards, trying to get as much into the camera's view as possible.

"You're so gorgeous, Y/N. The most beautiful woman in the world." Eddie compliments you, climbing onto the bed to hover over you. You're laying sideways on the bed, ensuring the camera will capture everything you do to each other. Eddie kisses you deeply, shoving his tongue in your mouth. You both moan into the kiss, hands wandering over each other's bodies. He lowers his hand to your pussy again, rubbing circles on your clit.

"Oh, fuck. Feels so good, baby." You say as you break the kiss. He shoves his fingers into you again, rougher than before. Your breath catches at the contact, your back arching off the bed. His other hand cups one of your breasts, massaging the flesh harshly. "You know, the woman that sold me this seemed to be imagining herself in it instead. She wanted to be here with you, in my place." You say in a seductive tone, and he picks up on what you're doing. You're using your jealousy to increase your own pleasure. "But you only want me, don't you?" You state this more as a fact than a question, needing Eddie to affirm the sentiment.

"I only want you, Y/N. Nobody else, not some starlet that throws herself at me, not an overzealous fan, not a lingerie saleswoman. Just you, because you are the most wonderful woman in the universe." He replies, his tone dark and sweet at the same time.

"Good boy." You say breathlessly as he increases his pace. He blushes at the nickname, you don't pull it out all that often. He loves it though, the way you can both play off one another so comfortably and easily. "I love how good your fingers feel, baby. But your mouth feels even better." You gaze up at him as you speak, caressing his cheek. He gets the message, pressing a few kisses to your cleavage before crawling downwards to position his face between your legs. His breath fans over your pussy, and he slowly removes his fingers from you. You sit up abruptly, taking hold of his wrist. You lock eyes with him as you lick your arousal from his skin. You moan at the taste, so sweet and musky.

"Damn, that's hot." Eddie murmurs, his words brushing against your core. He tents your knees, spreading your legs apart nice and wide. He wants to capture every second of this, to replay these intimate moments with you over and over. His tongue pokes out from behind his lips, making contact with your clit.

"Oh, Eddie." You gasp, your head falling backwards a moment. You're resting on your elbows, wanting to watch everything he does to you. Eddie licks and sucks every centimeter of you, from your bundle of nerves to your dripping entrance. His wet muscle feels so warm against you, flicking all the right places expertly. You can sense your release building higher and higher, just waiting to come tumbling down. You're covered in sweat, making your lingerie stick to you. "I love it when you eat me out, baby. Your tongue is so wet and warm. Fuck, I can't get enough." Eddie happily accepts your praises, growing unbearably hard at how pretty the words sound coming from your lips. He shoves his tongue inside your cunt, drawing a loud moan out of you. He keeps pressing your g spot like a button that makes dulcet noises escape your lungs with every push. You're getting very close, needing just a little bit more.

You weave your fingers in his hair and hold his head down. You tug roughly on his curly locks, and he grunts against you. "Mmm." The vibrations take your breath away. A large wave signaling your oncoming orgasm crashes over you.

"Do that again, Eds. I'm so close." You whimper. He does as you ask, another wave rolling over. "More. Make me cum, baby. I need you." Your chest is rising and falling rapidly, your breath coming out in a shallow panting. He repeats the action, stronger than before. That's all it takes for you to lose all control. "Oh, god! Eddie!" You cry out as your thighs begin to shake. Eddie keeps a firm hold on you to keep your body steady. You cum hard on his face, and he swallows as much of your juices as he can. He groans at the taste, furthering your high with even more vibrations. Stars blur your vision, and a fresh layer of sweat coats your skin. You fall backwards onto the bed, letting your eyes slip shut as you come back down to earth.

"That was beautiful, baby." Eddie says while lovingly stroking your thighs. He moves to lie down next to you, giving you the softest of kisses. You open your eyes to look at him, finding his kind face admiring you. "Hey there, my love." He smiles.

"Hey there, yourself." You reply cheekily. "That was really fuckin' good, by the way. Some of your best work."

"Oh, you think so? No notes, then?" He chuckles, playing around.

"None whatsoever, babe. You always know how to please me completely." You give him a kiss of your own, keeping things light. You're both still cooling off from your first orgasms, slowing down to savor every moment.

"I try my best." He turns onto his side, rolling you with him so he can spoon you. "Mmm, I love you, baby." He says, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

"I love you too, darling." You sigh, melting into his touch. You sense things heating up again, his dick is poking into your ass like before.

"You ready for more, sweetheart?" Eddie asks seductively, right in your ear. His breath fans hotly against your neck, making you shiver.

"Yes, please." You reply, barely above a whisper. Eddie grabs your thigh, angling your leg to lay over his. He's tender and gentle, his large hand trailing across your skin with every touch. He takes his dick in his hand, rubbing the head against your folds to lube you both up. You share a moan at the feeling, and turn your heads to share another kiss. Eddie slowly pushes his cock into your pussy, your walls swallowing him up completely. He brushes against your sweet spot, his tip hitting your cervix once he bottoms out. "You're so big, Eddie." You say against his lips.

"All for you, dollface." He replies. He pulls almost all the way out, before slamming back in. You cry out, and his breath hitches at your insides flexing around him. "Fuck, you're so wet and tight for me. Fuckin' gorgeous." He pulls out, and thrusts back into you even harder.

"I need more, love." You whine at him, wanting him to completely let loose.

"More what? Use your words, be a good girl." He commands, a dark thrill shooting through you at his tone. He thrusts roughly again, his hips smacking against your ass.

"I want you to fuck me harder, Eddie. Go faster, ruin me." You beg, not a care in the world for how needy you sound.

"I love it when you beg, baby. It's impossible to resist." He says with a wicked smile, before taking a hard grip on your waist. He starts hammering into your pussy, hitting your special spot every single time.

"Just like that, Eds! You feel so goddamn good, don't stop!" You exclaim, enjoying every second of this. "I want you to tear me apart, fuck me again and again until there's nothing left."

"You're such a greedy little thing tonight, aren't you? So needy for my cock, my perfect little freak. I'll give you anything you want, princess. You take my dick so well." Eddie speaks through gritted teeth, the words flowing directly to your brain. Every syllable dizzies your head, pushing you further toward the edge. Eddie's doesn't seem too far behind, his thrusts becoming unfocused. "Roll over for me, baby." He pants, pulling out of you and getting onto his knees. You do as he asks, putting your ass in the air for him while you rest on your elbows. He rams his dick into you just barely after you get a good grip on the blankets beneath you.

"Fuck!" You cry out. "You getting close, baby?" You ask, noticing Eddie's balls tightening as they slap against you.

"Yes, angel. I can tell you're almost there, too. You're squeezin' me so tight." He struggles to get the words out. Your walls flutter around him in the most exquisite way. His rings dig into your flesh, holding your hips for dear life as he chases your high along with his own. Your bodies are soaked with sweat, hair clinging to faces and beads of moisture rolling down cheeks. "C'mon, baby. Be a good girl and cum for me." Eddie groans, bringing his hand around to rub your clit. He makes perfect circles with just the right amount of pressure to seal your fate.

"Eddie!" You shout, falling helplessly into the depths of your second orgasm. Your front end crumbles, utterly powerless as pure ecstasy courses through you. You moan consistently against the sheets, muffling your sounds. Your pussy clamps down onto Eddie's length, and he pulls out just before he loses control.

"Good girl, Y/N. So fuckin' pretty when you cum. A perfect mess, just for me." Eddie grunts out the words as he jerks himself off, positioning the tip just above your ass. "Fuck, princess." His stomach clenches, and his load spurts out in hot white ropes. You feel his release spill over you, soaking through your panties and running down your thighs. A drop of it lands right on your clit, making you jolt. You're just about to let yourself collapse onto the bed, assuming Eddie's finished. But clearly he's only getting started. He doesn't want to stop, feeling far too gluttonous to tap out now. He manages to stay hard, and shove himself into you once more.

"Shit, Eds. I thought you were done." You gasp, still sparking from your previous orgasm. You've had no time to recover, and it won't take long to make you lose it again.

"Far from it, darling. I need you, to feel you soak my cock, to hear you scream my name. I'm not gonna stop until you beg me to." He almost growls, cursing at how sensitive he feels. He's never seriously tried to go another round so quickly, it typically doesn't work out. But this night, and the way you look in your sexy lingerie, it's taken him to an extremely intense place. You keep pulsating steadily around him, quickly adding on top of the existing pleasure still roiling inside you.

"Go ahead, love. Use me any way you like. Fuck me 'til I can't walk for a week." You whimper, feeling the waves crashing over you again. "Oh, god. I'm gonna cum again." You say as a warning, but it only makes Eddie work harder. He snaps his hips, hitting your g spot at an entirely new angle. "FUCK!" You scream, legs trembling once again. Your walls constrict like a snake, overstimulating his cock.

"Good girl." He huffs, still keeping up the punishing rhythm. You're moaning and whining helplessly as he extends your pleasure. You feel a rush of cum flow out of your pussy, dripping messily onto the bed and your thighs. "Such a dirty girl for me, making a mess all over the bed." He says, watching the erotic scene before him. He stares at his cock pounding into you, and your cum spilling everywhere. It's one of the most phenomenal things he's ever seen. You don't squirt often, but Eddie loves it when you do.

Your fists ball the sheets tightly, tears of overstimulation running down your face. It feels so good, and you don't wanna stop. "Make me do it again, Eddie. I'll be a good girl for you. I'll soak the entire bed if that's what you want." You offer, playing to his dark tendencies that you hold so dear.

"Don't mind if I do." He says through a groan. He starts rubbing your clit again, setting you off not a minute later.

"OH MY GOD!" You scream. You swear you're bursting into flames, everything feels so fucking amazing. You pulsate again, your legs jolting beyond your control, tugging on Eddie's dick. More cum gushes out of you, splashing onto his chest and stomach, and your back through his continued thrusts.

"Fuck, Y/N!" He moans, you're more tight and warm and wet than you've ever been before. The flood of fluids rushing over him makes his eyes roll back into his head. Eddie's still not quite reaching his third orgasm, but he knows he will if he can get just one more out of you. "I'm getting close again, baby. Just do one more for me. You feel so fuckin' good." He forces the words out, he's so close it almost hurts.

"Anything for you, love. Cum inside me, claim me as yours." You whine. Your muscles won't stop tensing and quaking, it's like you're not in control of your body anymore. All you know is overwhelming pleasure, waiting for the final explosion to detonate. Your ass stings from the constant, rough slapping of skin, which only increases from your mess covering everything. You're full-on crying at this point, unable to hold back as he builds you up one final time.

"Almost there, sweetheart. You can do it, you're such a good girl." Eddie encourages you. His own hips begin to stutter, he's seconds away from losing it. His brows knit, and his abdomen becomes tight. "FUCK!" He yells, bucking into you as his load spills into your cunt. The feeling of his release stickily coating your insides makes you cum one final time.

"Oh, god! Eddie! I'M GONNA-" You're cut off as the air completely empties from your lungs. Your vision blacks out, and for a moment you think you've died. It's like you've exploded into a million stars, white-hot and flying across the night sky. You can't comprehend a damn thing, all that exists is you and Eddie in this moment. The sheer amount of cum that explodes from you feels positively inhuman. It's like someone dumped a huge bucket of warm water all over you and Eddie. The sheer force of it pushes his dick out of you.

"Fuck, baby. Holy shit." He slips backwards on the mattress, left to witness what he can only assume is all the moisture in your body splashing onto the bed. He watches in complete shock, eyes wide and jaws sat open. You cum for a solid fifteen seconds, so hard it almost hurts. And by the end of it, you're more spent than you've ever been. You collapse onto the bed, gasping for air and sobbing. Eddie gets up to turn off the camera, there's no need to record you crying in the aftermath. He helps you sit up, but you feel dehydrated and dizzy. Your chest heaves and hiccups as you attempt to calm down. He keeps an arm around you, holding you close for comfort. "Are you alright, love?" Eddie asks, worried he's gone too far with you this time.

"Y-Yeah. I'm fine. It w-was amazing, Eds." You say through your sobs, giving him an exhausted smile. You take a deep breath, exhaling shakily. You do it a couple more times and it seems to soothe you enough to speak properly. "I love you so much, darling. Happy Valentine's day." You say sweetly, giving him a tender kiss.

"I love you too, sweetheart. You were unbelievable. I'll never forget this special night we shared." He replies, just as content as you. "How 'bout we take a shower, and get you some water? I'll have someone come in and change the sheets, and then we can watch the tape back if you want." Eddie suggests, helping you stand up.

"Sounds perfect, love." He leads you to the bathroom, assisting you in removing the soaked lingerie set and high heels. He slips on his robe for a moment, leaving the bedroom to summon someone to clean up the bed for you. He rejoins you, and you wash away all the mess of tonight's activities. You find the bed freshly made for you once you finish. Eddie grabs the camera from the tripod, and you both slip under the covers in the nude to relive the amazing sex you just had. You snuggle up real close, and Eddie rewinds the tape to start at the beginning.

Tonight couldn't have been more perfect. The shopping, the dinner, Eddie's gift, the sex tape, it's all been absolutely amazing. Sure, you're gonna be waddling around like a penguin for the next few days. But it's all worth it to know that Eddie loves you above all else. And you love him to the ends of the universe and back.

The end.

[swtnrcmnt]

୨୧ — s.r x singer!r; headcanons (2)

some more to feed into your daydreams ! thank u to honeybeespam for making the funniest reblog 😭🤍 enjoy !

- i left the other one off with hearing a sad song, but if you release something like “pov” by ariana grande (which lyrically is so beautiful it makes me wanna cry bc why can’t i have that) like because it gets so popular it’s playing everywhere and the team is having a field day teasing spence :((

- it’s basically canon that he mainly listens to classical music, imagine reader puts strings in her music and he’s just like I LOVE THIS

- mathematically breaks down the chords, beats, and tempo of the song lol

- singer!reader is rich as hell which = big house. he comes over and just sees this massive space that could be transformed into a library and is like “i’m moving in.”

- showing him red carpet outfits asking for his opinion but you still can’t choose because he thinks every single one is stunning >:(

- kittens everywhere because he finally has enough space to adopt some and somebody to watch them while he’s on a case (he’s a cat person, idc what anyone says)

- also as i said in the previous hc’s, she most likely moves in with him in dc, simply because it’s possible for her to work in somewhere that’s not la and would prefer to be home when spencer’s home

- elaborating on the freaky sound bites 🤭: picture those tiktok edits with reid’s breathing and whimpering in the background but she uses it in the instrumental of a song and only he knows about it ehehehehe

- if singer!reader does some acting on the side, best believe he watches every single movie she’s in the second it hits theatres ! supportive bf things

- lmfao her showing him edits or tiktoks her fans made of him and again, he’s flattered but extremely confused and concerned by their comments and captions. bless his heart :’)

- she probably has a lot of celebrity friends and penelope screams at spencer like “:o why didn’t you tell me that you were meeting a whole group of a-listers???”

- hates hearing people talk crap about you. he knows you’re numb to it because it’s the part that literally comes with fame: hate. but he can’t help it because he knows you personally and it hurts his feeling to hear people dislike you :(

- mr technophobe who buys all your album vinyls and gets them for free from you

- sending the team pr packages of merch and new stuff you launch !! and spencer wearing the hoodies you send him 24/7 and taking sm pride in it !

- filming tiktoks with him. even if he’s not exactly in the frame it could just be him adding a little cute comment to whatever you’re wearing :)

- is super super careful about telling people personal stuff about you especially because you’re globally known and have paparazzi on u left and right

- anytime there’s a particularly sadder song on an album he’s like “is this about me :(“ because he’s so so scared of fucking up and losing you

- the fear is also like 10x worse because he knows that if you two break up, it’ll be publicly displayed and he will literally see your face everywhere and hear your name all the time if you get with somebody new

- no no no cause, prison reid… and he has to take you off the visiting list because the guys around him keep making weird comments about you :’(

- a lot of really good angsty songs came out of those three months though hehe 🤭

here’s part one ! part three

that’s all i can think about right now ! hope u like :)

again, this reblog is everything to me 🫂🫧

[crstormzy]

castiel headcannons | my candy love

ok so i have this really annoying habit of inviting fictional characters to live in my head rent free for god knows how long. specially when they are assholes. specially when they're the type of assholes i'm really fond of. specially when they're castiel veilmont.

i also have the even more annoying habit of making extremes out of these characters in my head, but oh well... it be like that sometimes.

anyways, it's 3am where i live and i cannot sleep so here's some of the extremes i've taken castiel to during the last few years i've been obsessed with him:

so, first things first, my man is a genius. i'm not talking the einstein kinda genius, but more of a mozart or michelangelo or something like that. he likes art and he understands it and he is so good at it. like, otherworldly good.

he has an awesome vocal range, but he can rock the higher register. and he can also rock the growls so that makes for an interesting combination.

i don't care what others say, i just know castiel can cook. and i'm not talking instant noodles or frozen pizza either, i'm telling you my man can cook. call it perks of living almost alone from a young age, but he is a really great chef (and a really great lover, so be ready for a lot of breakfast treats if you're dating him).

although he is a singer (and a pretty good one at that), castiel just loves bad karaoke nights. like, all out awful singing: out of rhythm, out of breath, out of tune. he's paid to be a good singer all other nights of the year, so he definitely seizes the opportunity to just be a shitty one for a while.

songwriter is coded into his dna. like, waking in the middle of the night, genius ideas, music out of everything type of songwriter. dude writes like he's running out of time.

his lyrics are so deep, always with beautiful metaphors and the kind of thing that just guts you every. fucking. time.

or they're just vulgar nonsense. there's literally no in between.

can sleep anywhere. tour bus? yeah, sleeping. library table? long gone. the most uncomfortable chair in existence? catch him going. his bed, though? forget it. after midnight his brain simply starts running a mile a minute.

not. a. morning. person.

no, seriously. he hates mornings with a passion, specially during hsl. probably because he's always going to sleep horribly late, but he hates having to wake early for anything at all. the only exception is if he's really really really excited about something.

he can hold his liquor, but he hardly ever drinks enough for it to be necessary because he doesn't like the idea of losing control of himself.

stopped smoking somewhere after high school. he was never really dependant on nicotine and after a while (specially after crowstorm) he just stopped altogether. the sensation was nice and all, but kinda of not worth it anymore.

was bullied into becoming crowstorm's vocalist.

also hates instagram with a passion. shows up once every three months, posts a single story (after his manager grilled him for weeks to make any appearance at all) and promptly vanishes again.

would get rid of his phone if he could but, since he can't, he just isn't much of a user.

castiel please stop telling paparazzi to fuck off please for the love of god the press team is begging you stop trying to rip their cameras out of their hands please please

can be very polite and well mannered when he wants to (but he never does)

my boy is a charmer. like, literally everyone falls for him. and then he opens his mouth and just manages to be the biggest asshole ever.

(he claims it's also part of his charm)

lots of people speculate about how many plastic surgeries he's had. partly because he's very pretty, but mainly because of the nose and the eyes. no one believes his nose wasn't bought, and lots of people think he wears contacts.

(in truth he is terrified of plastic surgery, but, ironically, if he wasn't his nose would probably be top of the list of things he would wanna change)

anyways i could spend literal days talking with how much time i've spent with him inside this silly little brain of mine. these are some of the headcannons i could think of on spot but god knows i have so many more...

[peachfiend]

hey this post is just a MASSIVE bit of appreciation for my boyfriend/best friend because uh. he's the fucking best and i'm sappy

so like. i'm- i guess the best way to describe it is "part time aromantic". I will go weeks at a time being the most romantic bitch on the planet and then there will be days, or weeks, or anything, where my brain will just go Nope! and it's really interesting to live in but there was the opportunity for it to be very difficult to navigate a relationship within because.... what would you do if your romantic partner came to you and had to say "hey we need to be friends for the next little while"

and he has just been.... so wonderful about it. early in the relationship we kept a shared note that he could check because i felt awkward just Telling Him and he felt awkward straight up asking, but over the months he's gotten both better at telling when there's a switch in my brain and we're both better at just bluntly communicating about it. he sent me the lyric from some song or another that said "part time lover, full time friend" and i nearly fucking cried.

I'm autistic. I'm disabled. I'm bad at taking care of myself sometimes, and he is always there. Food is one of my biggest struggles - remembering to eat and actually working up motivation to do so, and one of my disabilities makes not eating Really Fucking Problematic to me. He looks at every little broken bit of me (not broken in the bad way, just quickest and easiest word) and picks me back up. he started packing me extra fruits and snacks when my life got insane and the added stress of packing a full lunch for myself every morning got to be too much. He made a list of my safe foods because he wants to be able to make sure something good is available when my mind decides that no, actually, you can't eat most of the things you normally do. he held his hand to my lower back at a concert when i was nearly in tears from the pain because he's a fucking heat pack, and it helped. he was the first person i could use a mobility aid around without panicking.

on my way home from his house i realized i hadn't eaten enough that day and was on the subway, on the verge of a meltdown, fighting off my first derealization episode in months. And he kept texting me, letting me talk, and (intentionally or not) keeping me more grounded than if i were just left to sit and dissociate. he gave me a stuffed animal relating to my current hyperfixation/thing related to my special interest and it kept me calm when i was panicking in line at the bank.

just... there are a million little things to love. whether it's strictly platonic or romantic or somewhere in between, he's always there. and it just reminds me, constantly, that there are people who will love you for all of your complexities. and it's not hopeless. because right now, he's my best friend who watched gravity falls with me and let me rant about christianity because i just got home from church camp and gave me the BIGGEST hug when i went to head home. and one day again soon (probably) he'll be my boyfriend who still does all of that but calls me his lover, shows me gay poetry he wrote and kisses me so so so softly.

it's not hopeless.

there are always people who will meet you where you're at, wherever that is.

[blouisparadise]

Today we’re excited to share the fourth part to our college/university rec list! If you missed them, you can find part one here, part two here, and part three here. If you enjoy these fics, please be sure to like and reblog the post to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) Outline Of My Sins | Explicit | 6551 words

Prompt 453: AU where alpha Harry is an art student who is taking a figure drawing class and omega Louis is the nude model. In the many years that Harry has taken art classes, he has never been more hot and bothered than now, having to stare at a beautiful nude omega model for hours.

2) Is Ur Muffin Buttered? | Explicit | 7053 words

He knew what he was getting into when he began to hook up with Harry Styles. How could he not? Everyone on campus knew about him, the type of player he was, ready to break hearts and beds and all that. But it wasn’t as if he had planned the mess he was getting into it, at least not in the beginning.

3) Peaches | Explicit | 7669 words

Once behind Harry, he bends over and places his hands on Harry’s thighs, slowly rubbing while bringing them up to Harry’s chest. Noticing the more prominent bulge in the alpha’s pants, the omega starts to whisper the lyrics in Harry’s ear.

4) Kiss It Better | Mature | 8080 words

Harry shakes his head with a light laugh and leans down to kiss him again which Louis happily accepts even if he is a little confused by the reaction. "Baby, not a night has gone by that I haven't thought about you in my bed, naked, and begging for my cock."

Blinking up at him with wide eyes, Louis opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out. While they did flirt a lot over the last few weeks, Harry had never said anything like that. It shocks him as much as it turns him on.

"News to me."

"I won't lie and say I like random hookups or casual sex, but to me this isn't what that is."

Louis swallows thickly, unsure of what to say to that but once again Harry gives him an out.

"So, If you want we can stay up here and I can show you all the things I've thought about doing to you." Another kiss, quick and sweet. "Or, we can go back downstairs and we'll dance all night."

5) Be The Artist To My Muse | Explicit | 9665 words

“I think I’m in love,” Harry says, flopping back to lay on the bench again.

Nick sighs and pats Harry on the head.

“There, there. You’ll forget him in a day or so.”

6) The One Who Stays And The One Leaving You  | Mature | 10315 words

Fuck.

He had just slept with none other than Harry Styles.

7) Like A Hurt, Lost, And Blinded Fool | Not Rated | 13919 words

ABO college AU where alpha Harry is a frat boy and he asks omega Louis out multiple times but he rejects him every time because Louis doesn’t like how frat boys act towards omegas. One night at a Halloween party, Harry dresses up as a stormtrooper and keeps his mask on all the time and flirts with Louis and Louis flirts back without knowing that’s Harry under the costume.

8) No Lemon Drops No Bubblegum | Explicit | 14979 words

They never interacted in that one semester, in that one class, and never were put in the same group, never sat close to each other. Then again, it’s not like Louis was hoping it’ll turn to something more. Just a fleeting crush, that he’ll get over once he stops seeing him every week.

Except he hasn’t stopped, he’s still thinking about it once in a while. What’s Harry Styles doing today? Has he cut his hair? Does he still eat scones for breakfast every Wednesday? He got his answers now, at least about the state of his hair. Harry’s hair is a lot shorter than the last he remembers, it curls around his ear, framing his square jaw nicely. He’d have to ask about the scone next time. If there’s ever a next time.

University AU. In which Louis is most definitely not pining.

9) Nothing’s Scarier Than Losing You | Explicit | 15466 words

When Louis and Harry run into each other at a Halloween party two months after their breakup, they’re reminded of how rude, infuriating, and utterly perfect for each other they are.

10) Treading Through Flowerbeds | Explicit | 20384 words

“So are you coming to class or are you gonna take the day off to shop online for your vibrator?” Zayn props his shoulder against the doorframe and watches Louis scurry around their room in amusement.

“I wouldn’t have lost the bet if—” Harry and his massive dick didn’t exist, “—you didn’t make us go to that frat party.”

“You’re the one who said you could flirt your way out of a speeding ticket with that old, bald policeman,” Zayn replies. “You know, you should be glad we went with the vibrator up your arse instead of taking Viagra before class.”

11) Baby, Loving You’s The Real Thing | Explicit | 21011 words

Harry never thought he’d be taking care of a child at the age of twenty-one—well, trying to anyway.

12) Cut The Sides, Don’t Touch The Back | Explicit | 21596 words

Prompt 87: Harry’s been talking about getting a mullet for so long and Louis hates how good he pulls it off.

13) It’s Not A Walk In The Park To Love Each Other | Explicit | 24461 words

The one where Harry and Louis are roommates forced to quarantine together, but they hate each other very much a lot.

14) If It Wasn't For The Nights | Explicit | 28499 words

“Okay, so. You didn’t fuck. But you’re gonna go hiking with Harry?” Zayn raises an eyebrow. “You don’t even go outside.”

Louis groans, crossing his arms on the table and hiding his face in them. “I know.”

15) Dont Know Its Lost Til You Find It | Explicit | 30614 words

Maybe it’ll be better this way. Maybe Louis just needs to distance himself, get over his crush so Harry doesn’t have to worry about his obsessive friend who feels too much and says too little.

He wonders what this girl is like. What she looks like, what conversations they had to make Harry fall for her in three days. If maybe she’s just stellar in bed. If she smells like heaven or if it’s just the fact she’s a girl.

He wonders and wonders, resists the temptation to stare at the alpha, and gets exactly no work done.

16) You're An Alpha, Harry! | Explicit | 32900 words

Right before Harry goes to university, he presents as an alpha. Struggling with his newfound identity in a completely different environment, he seeks advice from the notorious Louis Tomlinson, an omega whose claim to fame is being the local campus sex expert. Sex Education AU.

17) If The Sun Don’t Shine | Explicit | 36335 words

In a world where you meet your soulmates in dreams, Louis has spent the last three years going to bed hoping to finally meet his, only to end up disappointed time and time again. It all changes with a violin.

18) Voicemail Sings A Wreck | Explicit | 37016 words

Louis is the president of the biggest omega sorority on campus, Harry is the president of the biggest alpha fraternity on campus, and they do not get along.

19) Catch Me If I Fall | Explicit | 47099 words

Lovers when on the stage but bitter rivals as soon as they step off, Harry and Louis have butted heads from the moment they first met. Locked in a stalemate that they hope to ride out until graduation, things take a turn when Harry learns that Louis is hiding a secret.

20) I Can’t Help It (If You Look Like An Angel) | Explicit | 52277 words

Louis remembered how just moments before he had been grateful at the pieces in display being anonymous for everyone that wanted to see them, a thin veil that protected the artists established firmly in place despite the disappointed faces from the gallery visitors when they realised they couldn't track what their eyes saw back to anyone, and they couldn’t demand any kind of explanations from them regarding what they felt.

That relief got lost in the back of his mind when his eyes caught onto the painting, the obvious attentiveness and care poured in the canvas making his chest hurt.

What do you find to be the most beautiful thing in the world?

Apparently, for someone, it was him.

21) Lost In The Sirens | Explicit | 53729 words

ABO fic where alphas and omegas can’t cohabitate as friends and Harry ‘supposed-to-be-a-beta’ Styles presents a few weeks before he and Louis ‘hot/spicy-omega-bestie’ Tomlinson are set to move into their new uni flat.

22) Gallery Of Us | Explicit | 55778 words

Harry knew what he was doing in life, everything laid out in black-and-white, each day pleasantly predictable. Cue lively art student, Louis, trying to find his place. An almost insufferably happy person who sometimes forgets to hide the way they feel meets the person who is diligent enough to notice and determined to make a difference.    

23) It’s Golden, Like Daylight | Explicit | 61496 words

A college/ABO/fake relationship AU where longtime friends, Harry and Louis, come up with the perfect plan to fake date, which, of course, ends up being a complete disaster.

24) Lost & Found In Oblivion | Explicit | 74799 words

Omega Louis decided to hire an alpha for his heat to ease his touch deprivation, but little did he know everything would grow into so much more.

25) You’ve Got A Higher Power, You’re Once In Any Lifetime | Explicit | 113444 words

In a society full of prejudices, finding a family and being accepted, also seemed like an unrealistic utopia.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[junpeijackflash]

Welp, I Guess I’ll Talk About My Maximum Ride Rewrite Now

I promised I’d post about my rewrite soon, totally not expecting to do it for at least a few weeks. Then I opened up my doc after like a month and wrote two chapters in two days.

So, now equipped with a stronger drive to write (at least for now) I’ll share some details on my rewrite project. I’ll be putting this under a cut because holy fuck I did not expect to write this much:

The full title for the series is going to be Fly On, Maximum Ride. The individual book rewrites are going to be from song lyrics (or song titles? haven’t decided). Incidentally, the “Fly On” part of the title also comes from song lyrics.

Why, you may ask, am I doing the cliché AO3 “song lyrics as the title” thing? Because music ended up having a larger impact on this series than intended. What started out as me listing each flock members’ favorite bands and songs somehow wove so deeply into them that I cannot remove it.

(I’m aware kisses4butterflies on AO3 also has a music thing going in their rewrite. I came up with my version independently, and I do think it’s cool we had similar ideas)

Now to what people actually care about: the story and characters 👀

First off: Jeb never died/faked his death. He is still living with the flock as we speak, leaving the house every so often to get groceries or supplies for the flock. Sometimes he’s gone for a few days, sometimes weeks, sometimes a bit longer. But he’s still a part of the flock’s life. He trains them, teaches them, makes sure they’re healthy, rewards them when they do good, etc.

Ari sadly does not exist. I could’ve tried to come up with something for him, but I removed him from the plot so early on there’s no way to squeeze him back in. Maybe he could’ve been living with the flock as a normal human kid, but I feel like that would’ve just made him Gazzy Without Wings so :/

The house is…different. I don’t want to say much on that now, but just know the flock isn’t waking up with the sun or going on daily flights around the Sangre De Cristo Mountains. They go outside to train and occasionally play, but only when Jeb lets them.

Max, Fang, and Nudge are probably the only real physical fighters of the bunch. Iggy’s extremely good at assembling traps and weapons he can use, but he doesn’t have the same training as his siblings. Gazzy is training to be a good fighter, and training with Iggy on building things (he’s much more eager about the bombs than Iggy is), but he’s still a kid and he’s still learning. Angel is a six year old, and she’s also slightly lagging behind on her motor skills, so safe to say she is not good in a fight.

The flock still looks somewhat human-like, but not enough that they pass 100%. Their wings are massive, for one, and they can’t just fold them up into their backs. They need bulky jackets and pants to squish their wings inside if they want to hide them. They also have feathers along the backs of their arms and legs. Their pectoral muscles are larger and they have broader shoulders, all to help support the wings. They have smaller and rounder bird eyes with raptor vision, and they’ve got hollow bones and air sacs just like birds do.

In terms of what birds the flock’s wings are based on: Max = golden eagle, Fang = peregrine falcon, Iggy = osprey, Nudge = american kestrel, Gazzy = red tailed hawk, Angel = ferruginous hawk. Their eyes also match the birds they’re based on.

Everyone in the flock has pretty noticeable scars. Max has a large one on her cheek. Fang has several long ones across his chest. Iggy’s eyes are basically a scar on their own. Nudge has scars on her hands that flare up in pain. Both Max and Gazzy have scars around their neck in the same places. Angel doesn’t have scars yet, but she’s going to get some soon.

The kids fully believe they’re freaks of nature who cannot live outside of their home or else they’ll be hunted down or taken back to The School.

The flock all consider themselves siblings. This does in fact mean no Max-Fang romance. Honestly I wouldn’t know what to do with it even if they weren’t siblings. I have 1 (one) planned romance in book 2, and it doesn’t involve either of them.

There’s not de facto leader, since Jeb is still there. Max, Fang, and Iggy all take up different roles when he’s gone to help around the house.

Max and Fang do have a really close bond, though. They were cage neighbors at The School for as long as they can remember, and they developed a very close friendship, always looking out for one another, always ready to do anything to save each other. Even now, four years after leaving The School, they’re constantly there for each other, helping deal with trauma the only ways they know how.

Of course, when Max and Fang aren’t physically or mentally able to help, Iggy’s there to be the emotional support for his siblings. He’s one of the oldest kids, so he’s treated as such, James. Admittedly, there is A Lot to Iggy that won’t get unpacked until after book 1. But he’s still very blind. Still very skilled. Still very gay.

Nudge, being one of the younger three, got to have a slightly happier childhood, free to play with dolls and be a kid. She still struggles with nightmares and flashbacks, but not to the degree that her older siblings do. Now that she’s getting older, she has to train more, something she hates. Just like in canon, she really just wants to be a normal girl. She’s scared of people, but also fascinated by them and wishing she could live like they do.

Gazzy barely remembers anything from The School. It definitely had an impact on him, but the few memories he has are implicit childhood ones that are more sensory than anything. He’s the most innocent of the kids, but he’s also very aware of his siblings’ struggles and tries to help when he can. He’s willing to fight, despite his total lack of experience.

Angel, unfortunately, absorbed plenty of bad memories as a baby, when she couldn’t control her powers very well and overheard everyone’s nightmares. She’s aware of what happened at The School, but she tries not to bring it up because it makes her siblings sad. She still has nightmares about it, still remembers things she shouldn’t. However, memories don’t quite compare to experiencing the real thing... 

Gazzy and Angel are indeed biologically related instead of just found family. I’ve put a bit of emphasis on that being different. Not in a way that invalidates found family, don’t worry. It’s just that I personally believe if you already have a found family dynamic and are now including blood siblings, there should be some significance to it, because otherwise why do they need to be related if everyone is already family? Basically: Gazzy and Angel are very very close. They love each other, they play together, they barely ever argue or fight. They’re babies, and I will protect them (I say as I put them through several back-to-back traumatic events)

Speaking of biological families…uh, most of the flock doesn’t have any. Max isn’t Jeb and Dr. Martinez’ kid, the flock doesn’t go on a hunt for their parents that goes nowhere. In this world, a good chunk of the test subjects made through donor eggs and sperm that’s been genetically altered in advance and raised in artificial wombs. Yeah, sure, they’ve got donor parents out there somewhere, but it’s not top priority for most of the flock. They’ve got guardians looking out for them, and when they don’t they’re just fighting on their own.

Despite not being related to Dr. Martinez, Max is still Latina. I didn’t change any of the races - Fang is Asian, Nudge is black, Iggy and Gazzy and Angel are white - except for adding some clarification on Fang, since Asian is a very broad term (he’s got DNA from Southeast Asia and East Asia, more specifically The Philippines and South Korea). Again, stuff that will be more relevant after book 1.

Some kids are donated by real people, though, usually altered in very, very early stages of development and monitored heavily until they’re born. Families sign a waiver promising a nice paycheck to cover all medical expenses, and a disclaimer of possible permanent damage to the body or death. There is one member of the flock who was donated to The School this way. I’m not telling who yet.

Ohhh boy the Erasers. I have so much to say about Erasers, but I’ll have to keep it short. 

When I started this rewrite, I had the question: “Why do we never see newly made Erasers? They can’t just start out as full-grown adults.” So, in this rewrite, we have child Erasers, which the flock refers to as “dogs”. They age quickly, so they do look like full grown adults when they’re three or four, however it doesn’t last long, since rapid aging doesn’t exactly stop. They live for roughly seven years max, but most of them outlive their fighting use before that. 

Full-grown Erasers are stronger, tougher, and are experts at following orders since it’s all they know. Dogs, on the other hand, are wild and violent. They’ll tear into anything they get their hands on and they’re harder to control, since they’re still learning. Itex utilizes them both.

Also of note on Erasers: they’re officially just Lupine hybrids, and the Eraser nickname was made up by the various children at The School, because they only ever came to the cage room to take away the unfortunate kids who didn’t live long enough, or the kids who were too sick to keep on living, effectively “erasing” them.

The School is a nickname that Gazzy came up with after they left. He still didn’t really understand the bad place they came from and how it was affecting his siblings, but kids on TV always talked about school like it was the worst thing in the world, so he figured that must be where they came from. He used it a lot, and it stuck with the rest of the flock too. 

Did I mention there’s more mutant kids? Because there’s more mutant kids. A LOT of mutant kids. 296 of them at The School alone, with over half of those being Erasers/dogs. They have to make a lot, since you never know which ones will succeed, which ones will be used for non mutation-related testing, and which ones will fail.

Where do they get the money for so many research babies? The flock doesn’t know any of this, but Itex is massive. Governments are willing to pay outrageous prices to fill their military with Erasers, and the research Itex provides from studying their mutants have cured diseases and provided better medical treatment for ordinary people around the world. The human experimentation is an open secret (though granted most people don’t know the entire process). Most of them can’t do much, however. Itex is very, very old, and it’s far too powerful for your average Joe to stop on their own.

Also there’s no “save the world” plotline. There’s some saving the world in there eventually (not now, but eventually), but it’s not a predestined thing that Jeb tells Max. Max wasn’t created to save the world. She and her siblings were created for something else...

...Anyways, that’s about all I have time for right now. I might post more details later, but feel free to hit me with a DM or an ask if you have any thoughts. Currently the rewrite is sitting at 23 chapters, which means I’m juuust over halfway done with the first draft lol. I don’t know when it’ll be out. I work on and off and I’m not super consistent. But hopefully I’ll have something done within the next twenty years. :P

[tittyinfinity]

most hated songs list. in no particular order

22 by Taylor Swift

Shape of You by Ed Sheeran

Hey There Delilah by uhhh not Delilah

Bad Blood by Taylor Swift

Pumped Up Kicks by....school shooters?

tonight by fun.

austin powers theme song

national anthem

explanations (I'm only posting this bc I'm bored):

22 by T Swift

heard at work at least 5x a day on the radio

was nowhere around 22 when the song came out so i did not feel 22 i felt more like 16 because i was more like 16

song sucks in general if you're gonna do that do it for every age

I don't like her music in general

Shape of you by Ed Sheeran

extremely overplayed no matter where you went around that time you literally could not escape the song

objectifying

the tone of the song doesn't match the vibe of the lyrics anyway

if he said any of those words to me I'd pelt him with rocks

Hey There Delilah by I think Jason Mraz? Literally do not care enough to look it up

not THAT bad but overplayed enough to where I got sick of it

Bad Blood by T Swift

heard it at work even more often than 22

what a horrible way to make a diss track i'm sorry but it's so cheesy

again i don't like her music in general

Pumped Up Kicks

perfect example of how people will be just fine with violence in a song as long as it sounds upbeat and happy

song is usually liked by people who say they don't like rap because of "violence"

overplayed as fuck also

i'm sure the song has some kind of deeper meaning but i was in high school when it came out and all i thought was "this man is describing a school shooter so i do not want to listen to this"

Tonight by Fun.

this song can actually be good when timed correctly but it has to be timed VERY correctly

has to be like some intense nostalgia moment otherwise it's just annoying

even then it's kinda lost that pizazz bc of how much it was overplayed

Austin Powers theme song

my school played this in between classes in the hallways for months as "punishment" for having low attendance

between every class there would be 10 minutes of this song on repeat

they only quit bc we never reached goal and the teachers were going just as mad

really no hate to the song but imagine hearing it on a loop for 4 months and you're 16 years old trying to focus on multiple honors classes

National Anthem

national anthem

[maygrcnt]

Let’s see the Olivia 911 song list

thank youuuuu for asking i love you!! i know i said five but i didn’t want to stop at five so i did ten. also im gonna try and refrain myself from just saying every song is a buck song but it’s hard

1. Brutal- seasons 1-3 May. I feel like we as a collective don’t talk about the early seasons of may grant enough. she was just a kid! and she was being bullied so bad she thought she didn’t have any way out of it, it’s so heartbreaking. and then she just kept going through stuff in her family life and… i just care for her so much and this is HER song fr.

2. Deja Vu- Buddie. there’s no like actual moment of buddie for deja vu but i just feel like this is what’s going through both of their heads every single time the other person has a date with someone else. like this is the one and only buddie jealousy song to me!

3. Vampire- Buck/abby. like i’m sorry you can’t convince me buck abby was an ethical relationship and im NOT talking about the age gap even though that’s the main point of this song. like she got his info in a sketchy way and then basically used him to help her heal until she was ready to move on but then didn’t even have the guts to do an actual breakup and left the kid hanging for months. call me a bitch but i feel very comfortable saying she sucked so much of his energy and life. it took two full seasons for him to fully find closure from that while she had started a whole new life! :/

4. Stranger- Buck/abby again lol. this is like the other side of that argument where it’s like, buck was totally crushed but now in season seven who the fuck cares about her! she’s just a stranger now! and the lyric “you are the best thing i keep so far out of my life” is very them. because she did change his outlook on life in MANY ways but his healing from her was the best thing he could have ever done.

5. logical & enough for you- maddie. my heart breaks listening to these songs from a maddie perspective. thinking about how long she suffered and dealt with so much she didn’t deserve,,, these are the best songs for her imo especially the lyric “one day i’ll be everything for somebody else” because she is she really is! and she’s getting married to the person who looks at her like she hung the moon and i love her!!!

6. Making the bed- eddie, specifically pre canon eddie. idk how to explain this one but it’s very much just the idea of him getting back to his son realizing how shit things are and being like … i had a part in making this problem and now i need to fix my shit. and then he did!

7. 1sf3sb- henren in the early seasons/precanon. the cheating storyline is one of my least favs but i love how they showed them rebuilding from it and coming back even stronger. but in the midst of it all this song is truly very them from karen’s perspective. she was valid for everything during that time btw karen is a literal saint for her patience.

8. boahsg- ravi, our little clumsy socially awkward darling

9. Love is embarrassing- Bisexual buck!!!!!! this is my fav liv song and it’s so buck it’s not even funny. the anthem for the give more than they get hopeless romantics oh god i love him and it became way way more buck when he kissed a man who’s kind of a loser. i bet he’s planning out his wedding with a guy he’s never marrying right now!

10. finally, the newest addition to my list and the most important in my mind: Scared of my guitar the most buddie song to ever buddie (other than good luck babe). I love this song so much coming from the perspective of them literally not being able to lie to each other but they can lie to significant others like it’s nothing. oh there’s so much good stuff in there it’s amazing.

thank you for letting me do this anon ily

[twigg96]

Could you do break up hc's with the boys? :D

Hi Anon so I already did break up HC’s over on this post!! However I’ll write some quick ones for ya!

Nathan is lazy. There’s no getting around it. Even when he’s supposed to be working on lyrics or doing something he loves he is often found in front of the TV munching a bag of chips. This normally wouldn’t bother his S/O. They have been known to be a couch potato themselves. However. When all the slack of housework falls on their shoulders… that’s when it starts to become a problem for them. In the beginning of their relationship Nathan would have done anything for his partner. But now. Years down the line, it’s like that spark had died out in him and he just shrugs off any responsibility they ask of him. It really pisses them off and one night they have a blowout fight over it. Nathan is never a man to back down and even after his partner is in tears and sobbing he persists. That night he finds his partner’s bags packed and a cab outside waiting on them. When he tries to ask what was wrong it was already too late. His ex was already out the door.

Nathan called his ex every hour on the hour begging to understand what went wrong. It wasn’t until two days later when he met with Pickles for coffee that the redhead was brutally honest with him. (After being promised not to be punched in the face). Pickles explained that if he were his ex he’d be pretty pissed too if he had been treated more like someone’s parent than a lover. Nathan knew instantly he’d fucked up. He waited tactfully, calling them after a day instead of a few hours and asking to meet instead of demanding it. Much to his chagrin his ex agreed to talk things through… like adults.

Pickles had a hard time communicating that he loved someone. He wasn’t always a physical touch type of guy. And when it came down to it he used the words “I love you” pretty often in his vocabulary so his partner really didn’t know he had meant it until they were years into their relationship and they made a point to ask. On top of it all, Pickles really didn’t share in a lot of his partner’s interests. Not to say that they didn’t have any. They did. They loved watching Reality shows together. And making music. Both literally and figuratively. But there was one interest of his partner’s that really just made Pickles go bat shit every time they started. “Extreme” Exercise. He had to quote Extreme because all the shit his partner did was just normal BS except they called it Extreme all to what?! Go biking and rock climb in a building? Pickles hated it so much. It made his knees ache just thinking about it. But every morning at 6 am his partner was kind enough to wake him and ask if he wanted to join. And every morning he’d respond by heaving into the trash can after his binge the night before. This all ended in a fight as his partner glared at him. “You obviously don’t care about me at all!” They screamed. Pickles huffed it wasn’t true but it was pissing him off. They’d been on this for hours. “How do ya figure that?!” He finally yelled back. “Because you don’t even care about yourself!”

Pickles and his partner separated later that night and as he lied awake thinking of all the possible things that he could have done differently, he smoked himself into oblivion. Months went by and the ache that his partner left still was there. That routine they implemented was ingrained in Pickles. At 6am no matter how hard he tried he found himself jerking awake. He hated it. But all the same he desperately missed it. Another week passed before he got the call from the hospital. His Ex had been transported there and he was contacted because he was on the emergency contact list. Pickles didn’t hesitate to go. Stealing one of the dethbikes he made it to the hospital in no time flat, parking in a no parking zone just to get closer to the emergency room doors. Rushing in he ran straight to the receptionist begging to see his S/O as a frail but recognizable voice rang from behind him. Turns out they just fractured their wrist and needed a ride home. But in that moment. Pickles knew all too well what was important to him.

Murderface is and always has been obnoxiously gross. Not physically gross. He’s a clean dude. He takes good care of himself and his environment. No. His eating habits are appalling. He puts together the nastiest of concoctions and expects others to eat them like a five star meal. One time his partner watched him down a whole bottle of ketchup after a basket of fries and say “Goesch to the schame place.” On any normal day William’s eating habits were not a problem for his partner. They could honestly care less what he ate as long as it didn’t kill him. What did bother them was when William decided to make those types of meals for them. Now, Murderface was a really good cook when he tried. So they knew he knew better than to put a stick of butter on a plate season it with garlic salt and say it was a meal. But that’s exactly what he did the night of the fight. It wasn’t a blow out fight. More of a question that turned into another then escalated into a fight. His partner just wanted a meal. That’s all. Escusing themselves from the table they left to make a few phone calls.

Murderface stared down at the butter in disdain. He just wanted to make his partner his comfort meal. What was so bad about it? It tasted good. If they were still hungry after he’d be more than happy to make something else. Murderface hated the way his eating habits had become. But it was so hard to change them after so long. 30 minutes passed before the overwhelming aroma of take out took over his senses. His S/O walked back in with two carry out bags, one from his favorite place and the other theirs. They apologized for being so rude but explained that they were very hungry and hoped this could help them both.

Toki sees the world in a different way than most people. He often believes the best in people despite the circumstances. This had lead to him being home some pretty… shady people. Most of the time, his partner can just shrug it off. Toki is Toki. They came to like Dr. Rockzo and all his weird pals he’d bring around. But then again they trusted that whoever Rockzo introduced Toki to was safe enough to be trusted and he himself would never leave Toki alone with anybody he didn’t fully trust. No, it was the strangers Toki brought home in the middle of the night that Toki swore up and down were his new best pals despite the fact that they had mugged him earlier in the evening. The fight that broke them was one they’d had before. His S/O simply wanted sound mind that they’d be safe while they slept at night. Toki couldn’t understand why they’d ever worry about people in the first place. Hurtful things were said. Ones that couldn’t be taken back. Both of them were left fuming and in tears.

Toki was the one to storm out of the apartment muttering that he’d find better company than a meanie who said mean things. His first stop was Nathan’s who took him in and listened for all of 5 minutes before laying hard truth on him that he needed to go back and try and find a way to compromise. Toki ignored Nathan, then Pickles who gave him the same advice. Toki turned to Rockzo who he hoped would just drink with him but instead marched his ass back to his house coaching Toki on what to say to make it all better.

Skwisgaar can truly be a pompous asshole. He likes to pretend that he’s so much better than everybody else. When in reality he had lots of flaws too. It was his proclivity to get a big head and push people around, pretending to be something he’s not that put a rift in his closest relationship. It started small. He would always boast he was the best guitarist, the smartest Swede, and the most handsome man ever. Which his partner couldn’t really dispute so they never did. Did his narcissistic attitude annoy them sometimes? Yes. But it was livable. That is until he started boasting about how many sluts he could do in a night just to piss them off. They knew it was just to upset them later in their relationship. But at the start of their relationship, if they pissed him off it wasn’t all that rare for him to be seen walking around with a gang of groupies. One night after a particularly bad fight, Skwisgaar ordered the gears to bring him some groupies. His partner didn’t react, didn’t say anything. Simply stood up, hid their tears and left.

Weeks passed before Skwisgaar finally finished his spree. Realizing that the groupies could never hold up to his S/O he sent them away. He wasn’t really getting anything out of them anyway. Most of his GMILFs chewed him out for “cheating” on his partner before continuing to show him how to knit. The younger groupies just looked bored as he moaned on and on about how much he loved his partner. He only really cheated once. And knew it was a mistake immediately. Skwisgaar found his partner at thier ex’s place. The fact alone pissed him off to no end but he forced himself to be kind. He apologized to his Partner begging to be forgiven. But his S/O couldn’t simply put it behind them and go back to normal. They demanded boundaries. And to be respected no matter who was around. Skwisgaar agreed easily but knew even as they walked home their relationship was still strained and he’d have to work extremely hard to fix it.

[gleeksfreaksandwannabes]

I’ve watched the Nerdy Prudes proshot twice now since it came out, so here is:

A completely unhinged list of all the things that are on rotation in my head because I lack the ability to be normal about anything ever, but they get progressively more unhinged each time:

(Spoilers under the cut)

The classic, “high school, is killing me! I’m so fucking dead!” also “it’s not cool, it’s a fallacy, it’s a cruel and unusual brutality” even though that’s not the order of the words

‘I got left behind this morning, bus driver’s a fuckin’ asshole,’ - dude Joey as Pete is a damn gem!

‘Oh god, BUTT OUT CHASITY!’

“He’s got the hallway on lock, his fists are always half cocked, he’s got me hiding in ma locker!” - something about the way Joey says ‘my locker’ satisfies the little gremlins in my brain

“He’s a literal monster!” - also Max’s dance when he sings it cracks me up

‘I learned that in anti bullying assembly last month - FUCK NUGGET!’ - have I mentioned I love Max?

“What if all my thoughts were stronger? What if my beliefs were taller? What if I were king of the hill? Captain of the team!” - this one is on serious repeat for no damn reason except I love Joey

Just all of Bully the Bully and Bury the Bully - especially “I just cut off his nips”

‘Oh my god, it’s a skele’on!’ - I cannot with that fucking line oh my god

“I never thought I could walk into a bathroom, without the fear of a swirly, but now I can pee all by myself!”

Also the boys just going “NIGHT HAWKS! NIGHT HAWKS!” in the background cracks me up

The entirety of Nerdy Prudes Must Die but also:

“Does the math club comfort you? Should’ve joined the SMOKE CLUB YOU NERDY PRUDE!” - I sing this at least 5 times a day even though I am legit a nerdy prude

Also “Will you pray for me? When I’m gone? Or until another Ritchie comes along?”

ALL of Hatchet Town, but particularly “someone’s got their hands on the hatchet handle, swinging on the youth it’s a hatchet scandal” - I swear Jeff put literal crack into all of these songs oh my gosh

“Oh how was it?” “Fuckin transcendent!” - dude I don’t know why this line cracks me up but I literally can’t stop saying it

“If i loved you, you would know it, if I loved you, I would show it, if I loved you like you should be loved, loved you like I’m capable of!” Again… Joey and Mariah, I have no other explanation other than singing up high on the ‘you’ is pretty fun

Literally just… the way they sing each of the Lords in Black’s names in The Summoning. I just… I have no idea, it’s just addictive

“You summon us once, you summon us twice, you gamble it on the roll of a dice! La la la la la!” Again, no reason… just vibes

“Stephanie has got a g*n it’s time to have some fun! Stephanie has got a g*n she knows what must be done!” - The whole Summoning scene is so good oh my god!

“It’s like you knew me, before you knew me, it’s like you saw me, before you saw me,” - I keep getting the words to this one mixed up so I just throw in random ass lyrics

And that’s it! Long story short, this musical gave me severe brainrot, but I loved every second of it, and now I’m going to go listen to the soundtrack every day until the proshot is on YouTube, thank you for coming to my Ted talk!

[mikeo56]

The US labels hip-hop artist Macklemore a terrorist organisation

His music has been banned to defend Israel's genocide.

Due to concerns his music was radicalising the youth, the US government has taken the necessary step of banning hip-hop artist Macklemore and branding him a terrorist organisation. Any American who has bought a Macklemore record in the past 12 months is to be expelled from university and put on a no-fly list. Playing any Macklemore record is to be considered a hate crime and will result in police arriving at your halls of residence to batter the shit out of you. This is only what you deserve for making your fellow students feel unsafe.

Macklemore committed the most horrific atrocity since October 7th when he released a rap song called “Hind’s Hall”. In the music video, Macklemore raps over footage of Israel’s biggest achievements in Gaza, but rather than celebrate the destruction of a country and the collective punishment of a people, he criticises them. Civilised societies have no room for such hate speech.

Thankfully, YouTube took the sensible step of age-restricting the video and reducing its visibility because YouTube is a free speech platform and this is the type of speech we don’t want to be free. A YouTube spokesperson said: “If Macklemore wrote a song called ‘There is no genocide’ that would’ve been fine, but he didn’t deny the genocide, he acknowledged it, and this left us in an impossible position. If we didn’t do as we were told, we would have been banned quicker than you can say ‘TikTok is a Chinese communist app’.”

There was concern Macklemore could have set a dangerous precedent of celebrities using their platforms to achieve societal change, rather than just enrich themselves and grow their social media presence. Obviously, this is not the American way. Music has historically never been about social justice and I don’t understand why a musician suddenly thinks it’s a good idea to develop a conscience.

Just look at his lyrics:

Destroying every college in Gaza and every mosque,

pushing everyone into Rafah and dropping bombs,

The blood is on your hands Biden,

We can see it all,

And fuck no,

I’m not voting for you in the fall

A spokesperson for the US government said: “We’ve been tolerating this individual for some time, but when he said he wouldn’t vote for President Biden, that was the final straw. Younger voters are allowed to be disappointed with the president, but only on the condition they call him the lesser of two evils and vote for him anyway. By undermining the duopoly, Macklemore has crossed the reddest of red lines. We must punish him and Susan Sarandon harshly.”

One particularly concerning aspect of this situation is how Macklemore has tried to turn a Palestinian woman into a martyr. Hind, in case you forgot, is the six-year-old woman who was killed by the Israel Defence Forces. (FYI: Palestinians become adults at six months old due to issues with their pigment, culture, and/or religion.)

Hind was travelling with her family in a car which was struck by an Israeli rocket that initially left her as the sole survivor. She called for help for days until the IDF allowed aid workers to attempt a rescue and then they blew up the rescue vehicle in self-defence, leaving Hind to die trapped in the car, surrounded by the corpses of her loved ones. If you object to this, it’s because you are an anti-Semite.

Shamefully, young Americans were objecting to this because they’ve been radicalized by Hamas, even though they’ve never had contact with Hamas. The only logical conclusion is TikTok and Macklemore brainwashed them and this is why urgent action needed to be taken. You will be pleased to know Macklemore’s execution is to be aired at 6pm on Sunday (PT) on MTV Live x

[irishvampireboy]

DUDE. okay you’re so real for that. i’ve been listening to djo for like….. months now and i have a playlist of the decide album with some songs from twenty twenty on it. let me just say, this playlist has actually saved my life recently. it’s the best playlist ever for overstimulation or when i just need to calm the fuck down. don’t get me started on how insane some of the lyricism of some songs make me. i could ramble about djo almost as much as hozier i think. music is so goddamn incredible. i’m so joyed fo hear you like djo <3 do you have a fav song so far??

and thank you, that means a lot, love. i’m trying my best. i don’t really know what’s causing everything to feel so bad so suddenly. i hope it all passes soon. thank you for being sweet 🫶 how have you been recently? hopefully well?

-🦇

BRO! okay so i went through and tried to pic my faves and just ended up making a list of like... all of the fucking songs hahahahahha! I have a playlist of both albums and the few singles. And it's literally so calming to listen too. Like... his voice is so soothing. But then he has the funky beats as well. And i just... music is so special to me. Like, to the point where i get possessive. And not like... in a weird way about the artist or anything. Just like... i don't wanna share it with people. I want to like.. keep it to myself so i can just FEEL it and love it. And idk. Im not good at articulating my relationship with music because it's very deep and like intwined with every little part of my soul and i dont know how to untangle it all to like... study the connections. But i love music. And i definitely waited til the perfect time to listen to him. Im very much into the belief that there are certain times your, or at least me, that im like "supposed" to listen to certain music. And listening to that feeling hasn't ever steered me wrong. (I've only listened to a handful of Hozier for that reason actually. It's not time yet. But it will be one day.) Idk. I have very deep feelings about music i guess. Idk. I love a lot of the songs. Most of them. All for different reasons. And I'm really glad i finally listened to it.

And oh no! Im sorry for the random disembodied stressfulness!!! I hope it ebbs soon and fucks off and you can relax! I've not been too bad! Just chillin and workin. And i made some chicken teriyaki that was pretty bomb so that was yummy! Haha! 💛💙💛