#grub wc

[eggfeather]

sparrow and grub

[lemnnshark]

Absolutely 0 description again

[google-drawings-warriors]

No description, no problem.

[rosemist50]

Part 2 of Riverstar's Home cats! Again, small spoiler warning for some discussion below the cut.

To start out with, we have Cleo and her mate Casper, and their kits Hunter and Scout. The marking on Casper's back is meant to look like a ghost. Also I tried to make Hunter look like Hunter from TOH, but I don't think it worked super well. Next are Hopper and Scooby, two cats who joined the Cats of the Park, and then Sparrow, Grub, and Snail. Sparrow and Grub were in Slash's group, but joined the Cats of the Park, and Snail was in Slash's group and stayed a rogue.

[gougarpaw]

"Sparrow and Grub, two of Slash's rogues who'd come creeping nervously back to the park cats' camp after the others had fled and begged to be taken in."

Sparrow is a cat.

Grub is a cat.

[exocynraku]

[flabbergastedwampus]

i always end up making ocs for different hyperfixations and then make elaborate backstories that i never tell anyone about and i never draw it but the whole ass thing is contained within y brain and then the moment i think about maybe starting to draw some of it, the hyperfixation goes and slumbers as the backstory becomes more and more complex as i think of ideas over time

also i forgot this website was a thing for a bit, have some art

the first thing is a redraw of this superhero i made up in third grade named Mythcat but i made them into an animatronic because i was watching a playthrough of into the pit that morning

the design changed a little bit but it still looks pretty similar to the og

the brown tabby was my warrior cats oc Moonfeather

mythcat drawing from 7th and some grub versions of Asther!

[yummymitzy]

What is your problem?

Summary: Reader had recently settled in the Avengers Tower to be with her brother, Tony. What if a certain redhead expresses a form of hatred towards the new Avenger? Or was it really hate?

WC: 2,494

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x reader

————♡ ————

Taking a step back, you admire your handiwork of your new room in the compound. The room was simple, not too much where it was plain, but just enough so it would feel comfortable. You didn’t feel like going all out on decorations, finding it easier to buy or collect them as time goes on. 

A knock on the door sounded through the room, snapping you out of your thoughts as you turn to head to the door. To your dismay it was Tony, one hand on the handle of the door, the other holding a takeout box with shawarma.

“You do know that we had shawarma last night right?”You asked, leaning on the door while raising an eyebrow at Tony. His obsession with shawarma was honestly outrageous.

“Yeah, but it’s shawarma. Now hurry it up, it’s going to get cold.” He says trying to move past you into your room until you grab him by his shoulders and turn him around to face the door.

“Oh no, we are not eating in my room. You eat like a damn pig.” You laugh as he huffs before speeding out your door, rushing you.

“Just speed it up, i’m hungry and you’re not making it any better by standing around.” He rolls his eyes, practically rushing the both of you to the kitchen before he instantly unpacks the food and grubbing.

You were barely one bite into your food before a redheaded woman with slightly wavy hair passed by in a hoodie and jeans, getting a glass of water. The woman looked familiar but you just couldn’t put your finger on it. 

The most embarrassing part was that you remember people by their faces, usually not their names, so this wasn’t really a bright moment for you.

“Y/n, you’re staring, and the foods getting cold, you better start eating before your food becomes mine.” Tony says in a hushed whisper, pointing a fork in your direction, before he starts digging back in his food. Either he noticed you looking at her and didn’t say anything, or he just wants your food.

The redhead hears the mention of your name and looks over at the both of you briefly, before leaving the room with the cup of water in her hand. You on the other hand picked at your food for a few minutes before starting to eat. 

You honestly don’t know how you finished your food before Tony, you know maybe he could be savoring it? Who knows? Obviously you wouldn’t, the rest of the time you and Tony were in the kitchen, the redhead was stuck on your mind. Was it bad that you desperately wanted to bump into her again?

————♡————

Soon enough you find yourself waking up from your nap. You wonder if Tony had put something in the shawarma because you knocked out not too long after you two ate and played games.

“Oh shit.” You mumble, completely remembering that you and Tony were supposed to be training  at 3, and it was 5 minutes to three. Jumping up from your bed, you run over to your closet and pull out grey sweats and a tanktop. 

As soon as you get changed you grab your phone and rush out the door. Once you turn the corner to the elevator, you bump into something and red covers your view. Taking a good look at the person you bumped into, your eyes widen a fraction. 

It had been the same redheaded woman from the kitchen. Had somebody heard your prayers of seeing her again? You really did hope so.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to bump into you, was kind of in a rush.” You say after a few seconds of silence between you two.

“Just watch where you’re going next time.” She scowls, making you raise your eyebrows slightly at the hostility. You may have deserved it but that shit was honestly rude, how would you have known somebody else would be down the hall?

“Yeah. Forsure.” You say in a bitter tone. Had she been this irritating with Tony or everybody else? You brush it off as you push past her, everything but stomping your way to the training room as you see Tony on one of the benches, making you calm down slightly.

As you and him finish wrapping your hands, you both head inside the ring to spar. As you throw a fake left hook, you send your right fist into his stomach, ducking under his arm and kicking his feet from under him. 

“Tony do you know who the red head is?” You question as you hold out a hand for Tony, lifting him up in the process.

“Yeah, that’s Natasha. Why? Did you already meet her?” Goddamnit, that was Natasha Romanoff! At least you had a name to put to the face but holy shit she was rude. You were going to let it slide anyway, since you did deserve a little of it,  right?

“Yes, right when I was headed here, I bumped into her by accident. And she just gave me hell of an attitude.” You grumble, the emotions from earlier rising, before you shrug it off. 

You and Tony get into position again and circle around each other in the ring. He starts talking soon enough which makes your eyes roll. He just had to talk while either one of you were going to punch each other? “Just shrug it off. Romanoff’s been like that, it’s cause you’re new.”

You side-step Tony as he throws a punch towards you, you instantly turn. Grabbing the nape of his neck and kicking his feet from under him again, you pin hin down on the mat, your knee in the middle of his back.

“Just forget it. It ain’t my problem, she wanna be like that towards me then fine.” You and him go a few rounds more until you step out. As you hell him up and walk out the ring, straight towards the benches as you grab your water bottle. Shit you forgot to refill it on the way here.

“I’ll be back, my waters out, have to go refill it.” You yell as you’re already a foot out the door. As you turn to the hallway to the right of the door, you notice Natasha approaching. Your face hardens slightly as you don’t acknowledge her. 

From your peripheral you can see confusion plastered on her face. Serves her right, You mean like she asked you to watch where you go, but when you do, she all confused? Which is it then?

————♡————

-One week Later-

Training was easy as fuck, you couldn’t tell if it was just easy or Tony made it easy by simply sparring with you. You were back in your room, just lounging in for a while before you decide to get up and probably go look for Peter. 

You and Peter had always got along, once Tony introduced you to him, he soon became one of your closest friends, but definitely below Tony. “Hey Friday, do you know where Peter is?”

“Mr. Parker is currently in the living room, Ms. Stark.” 

“Thanks Friday” As you take the elevator down to the living room. The thing is, once the doors open to the living room, one thing Friday forgot to mention was that Natasha was there with him. Great.

You sigh as you walk towards the couch, lightly slapping the back of Peter’s neck as you jump over the back of the couch onto the cushions next to him. “Hey Pete!”

“What the hell was that for?” He grumbles rubbing the back of his neck. Natasha glancing at you from across the couch before turning back to the bond movie that’s playing.

“Just wanted to fuck with you. You wanna play Mario Kart?” You ask, waving the game in your hand as he thinks about his answer.

“Go easy on me!” Peter says as he snatches the game from your hand, causing you to dramatically scoff and putting your hand on your chest before turning your attention to Natasha.

“Hey, Natasha, you want to play with us?” You ask, trying to lighten up the air between you two. You both may not have gotten a good impression on each other but you still wanted to ease that up, not wanting to be mean with somebody you just met.

Natasha stays quiet but she switches seats, moving to the same couch you and Peter were sat on but kept a slight distance between you and her. That’s fine, at least it was some progress, right? As you hold out a controller for her to take, she snatches it. Well nevermind.

You brush it off as Peter starts off the game immediately, but you were going to have a talk with her once you all were done. 

As soon as the game started, you caught up with ease, leaving Natasha and Peter in the back as you race through the streets of Toad Harbor. You can hear Peter mumbling cuss words next to you as he gets hit with numerous shells, while Natasha is quiet on your other side. 

Starting your third lap, Peter was in the middle of his second lap, while Natasha was catching up to you at the end of her second lap. You couldn’t even deny it, she was pretty good at Mario kart, could make you believe that she could beat Tony at it.

You’re halfway to the finish line and you relax in the couch, leaning back into the cushions as your confidence grows. Until your character gets hit with a shell. A blue shell.

Thinking it was another player, you realize it was Natasha who passed by you as you get stunned.  You cursed under your breath as you sat up on the couch, accelerating the speed of your character.

From the corner of your eye, you can see Natasha smirking as she remained ahead of you. But your hope increases by the second as you grab another item box, receiving bullet bill. 

You grin as you equip bullet bill, so incredibly grateful that you got the item as it turns your character into a bullet, flying past Natasha’s character and stunning her as you flew into the finish line.

“Ahah!” You laugh, setting down the controller on the table as you stand. Peter slouches back into the couch as he pout, while Natasha sets down her controller too and just stares ahead with an expressionless face.

“You said you’d go easy!” Peter whined as he kept complaining about his loss, crossing his arms.

“I did no such thing as agreeing though.” You shrug, proud of my accomplishment. Before remember earlier incident with Natasha, as you turn to her.

“Hey Natasha, can I speak to you alone?” You ask in a gentle tone, trying to be nice but it just didn’t seem to work out as she looks up to you with a scowl planted on her face, before leaving to the kitchen. You took that as a yes and followed her there.

“What the hell is your problem, Natasha? I’m trying to be nice here but you always just have the need to lash out at me.” You narrow your eyes at her, trying to understand her as you cross your arms across your chest.

“I don’t have a problem with you.” She huffs as she mimics you, crossing her arms too.

“That! That right there! Thats exactly what I’m talking about, you’re always huffing and puffing at me whenever I try to be nice to you or invite you into something with other people.” You exclaim as your eyebrows furrow, starting to get more irritated by the second by this.

Something flickers in Natasha’s eyes briefly as her face falters for a split second before it immediately snaps back, her eyebrows furrowing. “What if maybe I don’t want anything to do with you.” She hisses, making your eyebrows raise in shock as she turns her back to you.

She’s only one step away from you as you grab her wrist, swiftly turning her around to face you once more. “You aren’t leaving this room until you tell me why the hell you’re acting like this towards me. Is it because I’m related to Tony, cause I can’t do anything to change the fact that I’m his sister.”

Natasha’s face quickly turns into one of shock as she feels something in the pit of her stomach, was it guilt? She wasn’t sure. “No!” She coughs trying to cover up how loud she was when she said that. “No. It never was about how you’re related to Tony, why would you think that? I…I just….”

You raise an eyebrow towards her, unfolding your arms to rest them at your sides as you calm down slightly. Natasha seemed different than how she acted before, it couldn’t be guilt, what was it? “You just?” You said in a more gentler tone, deciding that you should be more patient with her.

“I just.. It’s hard coming to terms with my emotions. It’s all I’m familiar with, I always just react before I even put any thought into it…I don’t actually hate you, Y/n.”

Your eyes flicker between all the features of her face, trying to get a read on her, understand her.  Natasha was opening up to you? Hell you were sure nobody ever saw her this vulnerable, obviously other than Clint, but you understood though. It was hard managing emotions, especially for you, you and Tony both harbored terrible anger issues and anxiety.

“Then why were you so hostile with me, Natasha?” You weren’t even sure if your tone could get any softer than it is now.

“I just thought that if I distanced myself from you and never interacted with you that it could… stop whatever the hell i’m feeling.” She whispered during the last six words, but you still managed to hear it due to your close proximity. Something you never realized until now.

You were face to face, your breaths practically mixing in together with how close you two were. As you processed her words one by one, you smiled softly, leaning in to the point your noses were slightly brushing.

“And what is it you’re feeling, Tasha?” Gently pushing her to say it as you look down at her. You didn’t know it, but the change from her full name to a nickname sent butterflies in her stomach, she never knew how good it sounded with the nickname falling through your lips.

“I may have taken a liking to you, Y/l/n.” She muttered, her confidence coming back to her at full speed as she smirked up at you through her eyelashes with her gorgeous emerald eyes. You grinned as you hear her say those words, resulting you to lean in impossibly closer. 

“I like you too, Romanoff.” You mutter against her lips as you give her a sweet kiss. The kiss was slow and full of love, there wasn’t any rush between you as she moves her hands to cup your jaw, yours moving down to her waist and pulling her into your body, the kiss becoming more passionate the more you both continue.

You could honestly get used to this.

[guksfairy]

✧WC: 1.5k

✧Notes: Idol Jungkook, Kpop Choreographer OC, exes, kinda happy ending?, SLIGHTLY inspired by All Night by ASTRO (stream) but it’s not sad :)), most likely a one shot

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

Koo💗: It’s laughable how you pretend you don’t care about me

The first message was sent at 11 PM.

Koo:💗: opn pls

You stare at the message illuminating your face in the darkness of your room. It was 3:18 in the morning when your phone pinged with a message from Jungkook who you had broken up with just a week prior to this. With a light scoff you decide to not even respond to it let alone let him know you read it. You lock your phone and place it on your nightstand and cover your body once more in an attempt to go back to sleep.

Just as you are about to slip back into your sweet dreams you’re interrupted by loud banging coming from the front door.

Oh god.

“Y/N!!” he’s going to wake up your neighbors. Quickly throwing on a hoodie over your silk loose night shirt you do a little run to the front door.

“Baby please let me in! The key isn’t working,” his words are slurred and his hair is a mess when you open the door. Your home is illuminated from the hallway lights and a grin from Jungkook who doesn’t hesitate to hug you the moment his eyes land on yours.

“The key won’t go in the keyhole,” he slurs tucking his head into your neck basically putting his entire weight on you.

You can’t turn him away. He’s clearly drunk in the middle of the night. Besides, it’s not like you ended on the most horrible terms. You had simply pointed out he was too busy with his work and no longer gave you the attention you desired in this relationship. He was clearly against it but he too decided it was better for the both of you. Since then you haven’t bothered to text him too busy with friends, family, and most importantly work.

You let out a grunt and push him away without fully letting him go. “Jungkook go sit on the couch,” you point to an area he’s well familiar with. Having dated for 2 years after all but he whines and shakes his head. “No no I want to be with you,” he attempts to go back into your embrace but you stop him and repeat your instructions.

“Jungkook go sit on the couch. I’m going to prepare you a tea,” He holds your gaze allowing you to notice the tears forming in the corners of his doe eyes. “You don’t love me anymore,” Shit. What do you say to that?

You do still love him but would it be confusing to say the truth and confuse drunk Jungkook. He’s already proving to be enough work so you try to avoid answering.

“Jungkook I care about you which is why I’m going to make you a warm tea so you feel better later,” you say.

“So you don’t love me?” his tone is childish with a whine. Something that always made you give in to whatever he wanted to do. Like when he wanted to go to the arcade with you but you had to focus on something works related happening very soon. He convinced you with his cute doe eyes and tone.

You avoid his question once more before pushing the front door shut and turning on your living room lights walking him to the couch he bought you. He helped you move into this apartment 1 year ago and had a good laugh when he realized you barely had any furniture so he settled on buying it for you. You wanted to resist but he was very persistent so in the end you just let him. He let you choose which one and the following week it had arrived.

Letting him fall slowly on the soft surface you grab the throw blanket beside him and throw it over his body. You walk to your kitchen and grab the pot, filling it with water, and placing it on the stove.

“Baby I’m really tired. Let’s go to bed?” his voice is loud from the living room but you ignore it. You can’t have this conversation right now. He’s drunk.

As your grubbing the mug you hear his phone go off and him answering.

“Jin hyungggg,” his cheery tone seems to confuse the older because Jungkook’s response was, “Nothing I’m fine,” with his slurred speech not helping his case.

“No hyung I’m with my girlfriend,” his eyes seem to slowly close giving into exhaustion before he’s handing the phone over to you.

“Hello?”

“Y/N?” his voice is shaky.

“Who else?” unless he was already with someone else who else would but you would he be with.

“Sorry I’m just out of it I think. Do you want Joon and I to go pick up the kid?” they seem to have already entered their car because the background goes quiet waiting for your response.

“I think you guys should just go home. It’s late and it’s not like I don’t know how to handle him,” you look at him noticing he’s only half conscious when your statement makes him smile.

“Are you sure? We don’t want to have him be a bother to you. You know with the whole…” you sigh before you tell them it’s fine and hang up placing the phone next to Jungkook realizing his screen has not changed. It’s still the picture he took of you on your trip to Japan for your first 100 days of dating. Your smile grows slightly before his phone turns off and you turn your heel back to the kitchen.

Resuming your act of serving his tea you grab his usual mug and pour his favorite tea into his favorite mug blowing on it and making your way back into the living room.

He’s snoring at this point but you don’t want his hangover to be too bad. He knows how to handle his liquor well but the hangovers were always present in the mornings. Never too bad but always there.

“Jungkook,” no response, “Jungkook,” earns you a minor hum from him, “Koo,” and that does it. His eyes open, not fully, and he moves a bit.

“Jungkook you should drink your tea,” you point to the mug previously set on your coffee table, also bought by him, in the hopes he grabs it and takes a sip but instead he looks at you nonchalantly and closes his eyes once more.

“Jungkook~” you shake him gently before he opens his eyes once more.

“Just drink this then you can sleep,” you say.

“I think we should just head to bed now, baby. I’m tired,” he says causing you to let out a deep sigh.

“Jungkook please,” he grunts but sits up as best as he can and takes ahold of the red and black mug and flinches when the liquid touches his tongue.

“Ow! It’s hot baby,” his eyes shut tight but you give no response. Instead you head back to your room and open your closet door picking the extra blankets and pillows before dragging them back to him.

“Do you want me to set this up for you?” You ask him. Watching him take another small sip, he looks up at you with his eyebrows furrowed when his sight lands on the bedding.

“Baby are you upset with me? Why can’t I sleep in your bed tonight?” You could be upfront but again are faced with the same dilema.

“I just-I’m not feeling too well. I don’t want you to catch anything,” your response seems to put his nerves at ease.

“I don’t mind it though you know that. Remember that time you had the flu and I came over and then I later got sick? I don’t mind it,” his argument only gets, “Jungkook that’s because we kissed while I was sick,” you place the items on the couch.

“I think we did more than kiss baby,” his teases cause you to softly hit his arm.

“You can set it up yourself,” making your way back into your bedroom his voice it heard again.

“Sweet dreams my love!”

“Goodnight!” You close your door not trusting yourself to deny him back in your bed. To sleep. Obviously. Nothing more.

With a heavy sigh you look at your clock reading 3:39 AM.

You still love and care for Jungkook but with his schedule and yours it just wasn’t right. He was busy with practice and performances while you were basically in the dance practice room constantly trying to perfect and teach dances for idols. Your work schedules constantly overlapped so when you got even the slightest amount of time with him you never took it for granted. Which is why the morning of when you turn and see Jungkook peacefully asleep in your bed you don’t care. You don’t push him off. You don’t get up. You forget about your breakup and allow yourself this. You let him hold you tightly like it’s the last because it very well may be.

[urhoneycombwitch]

imagine being loved by me

🍯 honey flavour: your love has stood the test of time, thus far, but a party fit for a rockstar brings up some bitter emotions.

🐝 the bees: rockstar!Eddie x jealous!Reader

wc: 8k

cw: drugs and alcohol consumption, mentions of weight gain (eddie’s, in a positive manner), R has panic/anxiety attack, jealousy (talked about and resolved tho), softdom!Reader, softdom!Eddie, oral (E and R receiving), R has breasts + a V and referred to with she/her pronouns, P in V sex, cumming inside w/out protection

foreword: timeline is wobbly and may not align perfectly w canon bc I’m bad at math so shhhh suspend ur disbelief. based on this anon thank you v much anon <3

___

It’s the coldest January Hawkins has seen in ages. Snow banks sit high on the roadsides, air thick with snowflakes, three-AM fog brought in courtesy of the bitter wind chill. 

Under the yellow floodlight of a nearby streetlamp, your boyfriend is sucking down the last of a joint while you stamp your feet against the gravel parking lot.

“C’mon, Eddie,” you whine, crossing the arms of your fleeced puffer jacket, bouncing on your heels to keep the blood flowing. “My toes are gonna get frostbite.”

“A touch dramatic,” Eddie replies, unbothered. The cherry of the joint between his lips burns orange, casting a warm glow over Eddie’s cheekbones, the twinkle of snowflakes caught in his bangs. “I told you to go in without me, princess. Warmer in there.”

“Without you? As if.” You pull the pity card, and it works, ‘cuz it always does- that boy has got to learn how to say no to you, one of these days. 

Not today, though, because Eddie is tamping out the ember on the sole of his boot and crunching up the snowy path to sling an arm around your neck.

“Grub time,” he says against your hair, pressing his cold lips to the side of your forehead as you both make your way into Benny’s Burgers.

The heated air is a welcome relief, and save for a couple of old-timers at a side table, you and Eddie are the only customers in the place. 

Benny greets you both from where he’s flipping patties on the kitchen grill, waving a spatula at the corner booth- “All yours, kiddos. Want the usual?”

You and Eddie call out affirmatives as you sink into opposing seats, unwrapping yourselves from all your winter gear as you go.

“God bless Benny Hammond for expanding his night hours,” you say, piling your green scarf on the tabletop. “This is a good tradition for us, y’know. Post-band practice smoking and coffee- very rock and roll.”

“I concur.” Eddie tosses his knit hat at you playfully. “You, my lady, have the most rock ‘n roll soul I ever did see.”

As Benny approaches with two mugs of steaming coffee, you muse aloud, “Not sure if the amount of sugar you’re about to dump in your coffee is very metal, per se...”

“Y’hear that, Benny?” Eddie grabs a fistful of sugar packets and shakes them indignantly. “My girl’s trying to keep me on the straight and narrow. How’s a rockstar s’posed to live in these conditions?”

“Lord knows,” Benny says, sardonic, setting the mugs down and turning back to the kitchen.

Eddie winces as his hands wrap around the heat of the mug, and you notice right away. “Your fingers splitting again? I have that salve that you used last time, but it’s back at the trailer.”

He puts his hand face-up onto the table, and you slip yours into his, the deep fingertip grooves from guitar strings rough against your soft palm.

“I’ll live. Plus, it’s kind of metal, right?” Eddie runs a calloused thumb across the back of your hand.

You squeeze back, give him a wink. “Very metal.”

Eddie’s been working himself to the bone lately. Trying to stay in school and not drop out is a feat in itself, but compounded with the band practices that have only ramped up in length recently, it’s a lot to balance.

He hasn’t complained at all, of course. It’s not really in his nature.

In the past few weeks, however, he’s been imbued with this near-manic energy, a renewed sense of purpose. In between your own fitful sleeps you often wake in the early hours of the morning to find Eddie hunched over his desk, pen flying across his notebook as he reworks an old song or outlines a new one. Not that you weren’t proud of him before, but seeing him apply this newfound passion to his music has been a huge source of joy for you. 

And, if you’re being really honest, also a major turn on. I mean, the boy’s got swagger like no other, and you’re so glad he’s finally utilizing it on stage. Even if that stage is in the middle of a piece of shit dive bar. Still counts, in your book.

Benny drops off baskets of hot fries, a burger for Eddie, and a BLT for you. Methodic and familiar, you offload half your fries to Eddie’s basket as he slides his burger towards you for the first bite. 

After a few minutes of peaceful eating, Eddie balls up a napkin in his fist and raps the table with his knuckles. “So, uh. Kind of have some news.”

You slot the ketchup bottle back into its metal holder and look up with raised brows. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He looks suddenly nervous, knee knocking into the underside of the table as he bounces his leg compulsively. “You remember Paige Warner? Graduated in ‘81, brother is a baseball jock?”

When you nod, Eddie blows out a breath- his unease is kind of setting you on edge. 

“What about Paige Warner?” you prompt.

“She moved out to L.A. for a job and she’s working this scouting gig for some bigshot record,” he continues, absently pulling the thin napkin in his hands into pieces, staring vacantly at the mess. “And she wants Corroded Coffin to record and send out a demo to the label.”

As the news sinks in, your jaw drops. “Holy shit. What?”

“Yeah.” Eddie’s fidgeting with the paper scraps now, still not making eye contact with you. “She wants us to start recording next week. I haven’t told anyone else, yet, I wanted to make sure you were the first-”

You interrupt him with an excited little squeal (drawing glares from the old guys across the diner) and shove up from your side of the table to throw your arms around Eddie.

“Holy shit,” you repeat, laughing as Eddie pulls you into his lap- “Eddie, that’s amazing!”

“You think so?” he asks, your enthusiasm allowing his own to creep in; He slides his hands to your denim-clad hips, his self-professed favorite stress toy (well, tied for favorite with your thighs). 

“How come you were so nervous to tell me?” You ask him, gently, tucking his dark hair behind his ears so you can see his face better. “Were you thinking I’d react differently?”

He looks up at you wide-eyed, shakes his head- “No, no, I wasn’t worried about you reacting a certain way. I just… I’m just worried about what this’ll mean. You know. For us.”

“Us?” You echo, encouraging him to continue. 

Eddie squeezes at your hips, presses the crown of his head against your collarbone like he’s mustering up the courage to speak. “Yeah, us. I know L.A. isn’t your dream- shit, I don’t even know if it’s mine- but you didn’t sign up to go on the road like this. You’ve got college to consider, and-”

“So I’ll take a gap year,” you interrupt, putting a hand to his cheek to make him look at you again, and when he starts to protest, you talk over him. “No, Eddie, I’m serious. I don’t know what the hell I wanna do with my life yet anyways. Following my hot rockstar boyfriend to a new town sounds like a pretty good deal to me.”

He shakes his head again, and you can feel his dimples spring to life under your hand as he teases, “Gonna be my little groupie?”

“And more,” you confirm, giving him a kiss (chaste, so as not to invoke any more ire from the grumpy other customers) and sliding off his lap to return to your own seat. “I’ll be your assistant extraordinaire, if you want. Or bodyguard. Make sure none of the other groupie chicks get too close.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, fondly. “You’re the only groupie I need, sweetheart.”

Settling back into your respective seats, you both work on the last basket of fries while chatting genially about the future. Eddie mentions getting an apartment in Los Angeles, so there’s less of a commute, which branches the conversation into the logistics of a cross-country move, and then on to more important topics such as the alleged coolness of west-coast parties. 

“Who’s your celebrity hall pass?” you ask, out of pure interest, dipping a fry into the well of ketchup. “Like, say you’re rubbing elbows at some famous muckety-muck’s party and someone catches your eye. Who’re you taking back to the motel for a slutty roll in the hay?”

Eddie snickers at your phrasing, then says, “I mean, preferably, my super hot girlfriend-”

You throw a fry at his head. “That’s such a cop-out answer. In this hypothetical, Joan Jett is in red leather petting up on you and you’re saying you wouldn’t take her up on a one-night stand?”

A laugh bursts out of Eddie, a real, proper one where he throws his head back. “Are you actively encouraging me to hook up with some bimbo at a random party? Without you? Unlikely scenario on all fronts, babe.”

This earns him another launched fry, and he squawks, trying to shake it out of its place caught in his hair as you reprimand him- “Joan Jett is not some bimbo, watch your mouth! And what I’m saying is, if you didn’t at least try to score us a threesome with her, I’d be pissed.”

“Okay, baby,” Eddie soothes you a tad derisively, likely a ploy to avoid more flying food- “if I meet Joan Jett I will do my level best to get her in our bed. Scout’s honor.”

He holds up two fingers and wiggles them obscenely, grinning when you laugh again. “All right, Nosey McGee. Who are you taking home from the party?”

You hum, eyes flicking up to the ceiling, contemplating the options. “I guess I could be talked into a night with Kirk Hammett.”

Eddie’s turn to launch a fry. “You slut,” he chuckles, “That was a way quicker answer than mine.”

“Okay, fine. If I meet Kirk Hammett, I promise to at least make a bid for threesome. Deal?” You extend your pinkie across the table.

Eddie loops his little finger into yours. “Deal.”

____

The memory of that cozy diner evening years ago fades as you shake yourself to the present.

You aren’t two highschool kids with lofty dreams, anymore- after Eddie’s recovery from all that Upside Down bullshit in ‘86, Corroded Coffin took off. Even though Paige didn’t end up coming through with any deals, Eddie and his bandmates fought like hell to get signed- and by the end of that year, a small record label in the heart of downtown Chicago had taken the bait.

Corroded Coffin turned out to be the best thing to ever happen to Arken Records; by the spring of ‘87, business was booming thanks to the help of Corroded’s debut album, The Banished Ones- their new single was a chart-topper for over 6 weeks. (Smash Hit magazine’s latest review was titled “Fresh Sound Rises from Dirt Nowhere.” You have the paper clipping saved in your ever-growing folder with “rockstar boyfriend!!!” handwritten in black ink.) 

And in a few weeks, the band will set off on their first real tour, starting in Chicago and ending with a bang in an already sold-out show in Hawkins- Dustin, Steve, and the rest of the gang with VIP front-row seats, of course. 

As much as you and Eddie have grown and matured in the past few years, the core of you both has remained the same. Eddie is still just as dorky, goofy, and caring as he always has been, while you’ve kept that tenacious spirit and quick wit that he fell in love with back in the early days of dating. Even now, with his popularity rising and his rockstar dreams on their way to coming true, Eddie constantly brings his focus back to you. 

Pillow talks in cushy hotel beds, late night ramblings over post-show whiskeys, holding hands in the back of yet another cab- when he could be talking about the thousands of exciting things happening in his own life, Eddie is asking about you.

Did you talk to Robin last night, sweetheart? How’s ‘ol Birdie doin? What do you wanna wear to that dinner thingy tomorrow… could go naked for all I care. In fact you probably should because of feminism and all that. Did you sleep okay last night? Let me look at ya. You thinkin’ any more about those applications you got?

You’d taken a gap year to support Eddie, which you were happy to do, but with ‘87 drawing to a close, he’s been more insistent lately that you take a look at all your college options. Honestly, you’ve been enjoying the adventures that come with touring way too much to consider going back to the rigidity of school. 

And plus, having the love of your life nearly bleed out in your arms in a parallel dimension has totally realigned your priorities. If folks thought you and Eddie were attached at the hip before… 

He’ll likely argue you into academia, eventually. He always rolls high on persuasion. Damn him.

For now, you’ve got a party to attend. 

Arken Records is playing host, on the last night of 1987- in celebration of Corroded Coffin’s success and to kick off the New Year’s festivities, they’ve rented out a house in east Chicago for the event. 

Well, house isn’t the right word. More like mansion. Vaulted ceilings tall as a church’s, huge windows overlooking the Chicago river, a grand chandelier with flickering candles in nearly every room. 

When you and Eddie had toured the place a few days previous, he’d made a joking complaint low in your ear about not having the time to fuck you on every surface. Your laugh had reverberated off the sweeping mahogany floorboards, mostly at the expense of Eddie’s poor publicist who’d happened to hear his comment. (Melanie had really been putting in overtime lately; you made a mental note to send her a very nice flower arrangement and vouchers for a spa trip.)

The party was in full swing by the time you and Eddie arrived, fashionably late, and he had been folded into the throng of other musicians and partygoers against his will pretty much immediately- which you’d expected. The last hour, he’s been throwing you piteous looks from his spot across the room, where he hasn’t had the chance to move an inch with the amount of people keeping the conversation going. You’ve slipped to his side a few times, refreshing his drink, letting him curl an arm around your waist as you perch on his knee, only half-focused on whatever story some producer is saying as Eddie’s hand trails up your thigh. 

You’re back on the nearest wall again, sipping champagne, taking it all in. There are probably over a hundred people crammed into this banquet room, bass thumping through the floorboards, tables shoved to the outer corners making space for a makeshift dance space. 

The air is hazy with smoke from various cigarettes and joints; as the night has progressed, the smell of freshly-applied cologne has been replaced with heady sweat as the dance floor calls more people to writhe and grind in groups and partners. Eddie is still stuck in the lone pod of living room chairs, surrounded by a rapt audience of people crammed in to hear him better over the blaring music.

He looks damn good tonight, in a cut-off black tee and his favorite ripped jeans, leather jacket hung on the chair behind him. Silver catches the light from every angle- on the chains at his hips, around his neck, glinting off his rings as he gestures animatedly mid-story. He’d asked you to do his eyeliner at the hotel earlier, and although it’s smudged and blurred at the edges now he’s still pulling it off. Tiny silver stars, hand-drawn with your eyeshadow brush, twinkle across his cheeks like freckles.

Eddie wanted to match with you, whined until you added a belt made of gold-plated stars to your outfit. You went simple, the gold to his silver- belt cinching your short black satin slip dress, delicate brass rings and bracelets around your fingers and bare forearms. The one piece of silver you are wearing is a chain around your neck, Eddie’s guitar pick nestled snug between your breasts. 

You still resolutely refuse to wear heels, even after Eddie’s stylist cajoled you into practicing on stilettos for a disastrous media training session last month- tonight you’re in a chic pair of Mary Janes with the slightest suggestion of a heel. Compromise. 

There’s a big laugh from the crowd in the corner again as Eddie knocks a hand into Gareth’s chest for emphasis, nearly knocking the younger boy off his seat. You stare unabashedly at Eddie’s forearms, biceps on full display; he’s filled out a bit since leaving home, his usually lean frame boasting a bit more weight and bulk now that he’s got consistent access to well-rounded meals. 

He’s looking healthy, down right glowy. You’re thinking about that smattered trail of dark hair that slides down the crest of his stomach, now with extra padding enough to sink your teeth into. As if he knows, Eddie catches your eye from across the room and winks, cheekily. 

You shiver and unconsciously press your thighs together, hiding your grin with another swallow of champagne.

The alcohol turns a bit sour going down, though, as a crimped-haired blonde girl worms her way to Eddie’s side, laughing a little too loudly at the joke he just told. When she places a manicured hand on one of his shoulders, the thin stem of your glass nearly snaps in your grip.

The thing about rockstars is they have crazy sex appeal. The thing about your rockstar is he’s only interested in you, something that has been proved many times over.

So why is tonight hitting you so hard? Why do you feel nauseous the longer Eddie lets some random woman’s hand stay on his bare skin when you know he’s going home with you, and only you?

Maybe it’s the alcohol, or the overcrowded room, or the memories of Benny’s diner still lingering like a bruise in your mind. Hard to pinpoint exactly. All you know is that jealousy is gnawing like a thing raw and seeking in the pit of your stomach, and if you don’t get out of this stuffy room soon you’re gonna do something tabloid-worthy, like cry in the middle of a New Year’s Eve party.

By the grace of some god you make it across the dance floor and into a side bathroom unscathed, the pulsing sound of the party blissfully dimming as you shut the door behind you. Your mind whirls as you grip the gilded sink for stability, blinking hard at the tears beginning to form. 

You love having a boyfriend who’s larger than life. You love that he’s taking up space and getting to use that charm that was nurtured on the DM throne back in Hawkins. You’re so proud of him, you really are. 

You’re just starting to hate the way other people’s surface-level love of him makes you feel.

Because that’s what it is, right? Just surface-level, you reason with yourself- the level of intimacy that you and Eddie have is unmatched, something that the newly-formed masses of admirers won’t ever get to experience.

Christ, can jealousy give you hives? You grab a handful of paper towels and soak them in cold tap water, then press the damp bundle to your chest, breath stuttering.

You’ve never been the jealous type, or the overbearing type- it’s a new feeling, and maybe that’s why it feels so scary. The more you try to tamp it down, the more it rears its ugly head, making you, in turn, feel embarrassed for having such a strong reaction in the first place.

It’s a vicious cycle that’s only seeming to gain speed as you realize you haven’t yet managed a full breath since coming to your hiding spot. Your lungs are pinched and burning as you drop the soggy paper into the sink, leaning into the lip of the porcelain to steady yourself.

There’s a knock on the door, and you choke out “Just a minute”, not sure if the person on the other side can even hear you over the music when Eddie’s voice leaks through.

“Baby? That you in there?”

Against your better judgment, you open the door, and he crams in the small space, locking it again behind himself.

“There you are, I saw you leave and thought you were getting a drink or something but then you didn’t come back and- are you okay?”

He interrupts his own stream of consciousness when he notices the state you’re in. You give him a trembly smile, waving a hand dismissively.

“Yeah, all good. I’ll come back with you, just needed to pee.”

Eddie is not so easily thrown off the scent. He murmurs your name, sliding his hand into yours, looking at you with a wounded puppy gaze- fuck, you can’t have a breakdown. Not here, not on New Year’s in some knockoff-Playboy’s bathroom.

And certainly not in front of Eddie, who’s asking you to tell him what’s wrong, what happened, with an increasingly pleading tone that’s really, really not helping your whole Don’t Cry agenda. 

Hoping your voice doesn’t break, you clear your throat and pull your hand from his grasp. “Nothing happened, okay? I just had too much to drink, feeling overly sentimental or something. I’m okay.”

You think your white lie was convincing enough when Eddie reaches back for the door handle, that maybe he’ll rejoin the party and leave you to have a good cry, but after poking his head out the doorway briefly he grabs onto your wrist, tugging you to his side and hissing “Quick!”

And then you’re both making a break for it down the mostly-empty hallway, Eddie pulling you smoothly past a wall of expensive-looking oil paintings before going through a set of double doors that lead to the outside.

It’s December in Chicago, which means a light layer of snow covers the terraced garden that Eddie is leading you through, stopping at a stone bench flanked by two scraggly bushes. 

“Made it,” he huffs with exertion, dropping your hand to shrug his leather jacket off in favor of draping it around your own shoulders.

“You’re gonna be cold,” you sniffle, partly from the tears, partly from the crisp night air.

“Yeah,” he agrees easily, wrapping you in a hug. You press your forehead to his chest. “Got my girl to keep me warm, though.”

You stay like this for a few moments, his arms solid around you, breaths coming easier as the familiar smell of his tangy skin and that spicy bar soap he uses fills your senses.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong?” he asks, gently, holding you at arm’s length to study your face.

When you shrug, unsure of where to start, he lets go of you and walks backwards, taking an unflinching seat on the snow-covered bench.

You gasp despite yourself, reaching to pull him up even as he twists out of your grasp- “Eddie, jesus, you’re literally gonna freeze your ass off. Get up!”

But he’s solid in his seat, widening his stance, boots planted on the ground- “I’m not moving until you tell me what’s going on in that head of yours, so you better start talking before my jeans freeze to the concrete.”

“It’s nothing,” you insist, but he’s giving you that look again, the one that cracks through the tough exterior every time, and you wrap your arms around yourself under the warmth of his jacket as you admit, “Okay, fine. It’s something. I’m just… having an overreaction.”

“To the shellfish?” he deadpans.

“No, asshole, to the blonde girl who was rubbing up on you earlier,” you snap.

Eddie blinks, genuine confusion in his voice- “There was a blonde girl… rubbing up on me?”

“She was petting your shoulder,” you continue, scuffing the toe of your shoe against the ground. “She was touching you, and I got- jealous, I guess.”

“Baby, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t remember her, at all,” Eddie emphasizes, spreading a palm flat against his chest in a gesture of sincerity, hair shifting across his shoulders as he cocks his head to the side.

His face is too familiar, too earnest for you to be able to say what you’re feeling without bursting into tears, so you turn on your heel, pacing a short loop in front of the bench, your breath hanging in misty clouds as you speak. 

“It’s not even about her, necessarily. It’s about me and my stupid emotions. I’m not usually like this- jealous, you know? Like, I’m so proud of you, and everything you’ve accomplished, and I don’t mind sharing you, really I don’t, it’s just…”

You pause in your pacing, let your head drop back to look at the inky black sky pinpricked with stars, and your next words fall out like a confession.

“I just feel like I’m in mourning.”

You can feel his eyes on you still, as you loose the feeling that’s been caught tight in your chest. “It sounds so dramatic, when I say it like that. But I think that’s what it is. I miss when it was just the two of us, in this little bubble where no one knew our names and we just had each other.”

As the words leave your mouth, you scramble to explain, to soften the blow, hands tightening around your upper arms as you turn back to face the boy on the bench. “And I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, or, like, a total jealous bitch, because I really love you and I hope you know I’m not- are you laughing?”

Eddie tries his best to stifle the laughter into his fist when he sees how indignant you look. He rises from the bench, still a bit mirthful, pulling you back into his space. “Sorry, honey, I’m not making fun of you, I promise.”

You’re glaring at him now, and he ducks to kiss at the lines between your brow before pulling back and saying, “I think what you’re feeling is normal, and I don’t think you’re overreacting at all. Remember that asshole at the Smith Center party who kept trying to get your number right in front of me?”

“Vaguely.”

“I wanted to punch his lights out. Make a real scene, kiss you sloppy in front of some cameras.” Eddie cups your face in his hands, soothing his thumb against the wetness of your lashline. “What I’m saying is, I get jealous, too. And I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”

“But…” there’s a well of emotions that you’re drawing from, and it’s not empty yet, one nagging thought still surfacing. “But these girls that are coming on to you, they’re like… really hot. I don’t look anything like them.”

Eddie frowns. “Are you seriously trying to make a case for yourself on the grounds of not being really hot? That’s not gonna hold up in court, gorgeous. I mean… have you even looked in a mirror recently?”

He lightly taps his knuckle against your head, trying to get you to crack a smile, but you’re not ready to give in yet. 

“You don’t think you’ll get bored of me?” you whisper, dropping your eyes from his consuming gaze to the wyvern inked on the inside of his arm. 

“Sweetheart…” Eddie sounds genuinely pained. The ink in his skin stretches as he slips a hand to the back of your neck, cold rings against your skin making you shiver. “I couldn’t ever get bored of you. Not in a million years. We've been through too much together for you to think like that, hm?”

He strokes his thumb down the column of your neck, those doey brown eyes on you again. “Now I’m not saying you shouldn’t ever be jealous, ‘cuz god knows it makes me hot under the collar when you are. But I’m sayin’ I never wanna make you feel like you need to earn me, okay?”

His thumb tracks back up to the hollow of your jaw, taps twice questioningly, and you nod, letting out a shaky, “Okay.”

When he kisses you, it feels like every other time- comfortable, grounding, familiar. His tongue presses against the seam of your lips, and you let him lick into your mouth, gripping at his arms, flushing hot as you give it back to him in spades.

With a short groan, he pulls back, a wet click as your mouths separate- “As much as I wanna jump your bones in this wintry wonderland, I think the snow might’ve actually frozen my balls off.”

You giggle, spanning your hands around the meat of his waist, kissing up into his mouth again- “Poor baby. Want me to warm ‘em up in my mouth?”

He gives a solid smack to your ass for that, his palm smoothing over the stinging skin with condescension when you yelp- “All dish and no take, baby? Not exactly fair.”

____

Despite your weak protestations that you both should probably rejoin the party, at least until midnight, Eddie insists on taking you back to the hotel. 

“This party blows, anyways,” he says over his shoulder to you as he leads you back through the halls of the house. “If I hear one more Tears for Fears track I might throw myself into the river from one of the hundred balconies in this place.”

He manages to track down Melanie with some effort, winding his way through the throng of people to where she’d been chatting with a reporter, plucking at her elbow to get her away from the crowd and into the quieter hallway with you.  

“We gotta scoot, Mel,” he tells her, really hamming up the charm as the young publicist widens her eyes. “Think you can get us a ride outta here?”

“Mr. Munson, you can’t just leave,” Melanie insists, frazzled. “Someone from Rolling Stone has been waiting for the last hour to talk to you, if you could just-”

“No can do.” Eddie shakes his head, mock-apologetic. “There’s been an accident. Of a personal nature.”

You manage to choke down your laughter as Eddie turns around to show off the dark stains on the back of his jeans. They’re just wet from the snow that he sat in earlier, of course, but it looks convincing enough to make Melanie blanch and pinch the bridge of her nose.

“I’ll have a cab out front in ten for you both. Please keep a low profile until then.”

Eddie gives a sharp salute and you mouth an apology at her before she retreats to find a phone.

Okay, so maybe add a hefty bonus to that Nice Things for Melanie list of yours. 

____

One of the perks of having a rockstar for a boyfriend is the sweet digs- the label shelled out for Chicago’s finest penthouse suite; an entire luxurious upper floor with a private elevator, windows overlooking the far-below city lights, and a sunken bath big enough for two.

Also included? Soundproof walls.

A perk you’re very grateful for as Eddie walks you backwards into the room, sucking a mark with stinging teeth into your neck as you moan, then giggle breathily, admonishing- “Christ, Eddie, slow down. We have all night.”

Eddie pulls back just far enough to frown down at you, his hands slipping under the hem of your dress to squeeze at your ass. His rings are cold against your bare flesh, and he grins when you shiver. “Uh huh. Sure do have all night. You gonna take advantage of that?”

He wiggles his eyebrows, cheekily, but that smirk drops from his face in record time the second you shove him to the bed. As his knees give out in favor of sitting on the mattress, you steady your hands against his broad shoulders to swing yourself into his lap.

Eddie’s looking up at you, cinnamon eyes darkened with lust- it makes your stomach flip something awful. Your skin feels alight with heat as Eddie’s hands drip like water down your sides, then to your parted thighs.

You sigh into his mouth as his fingers trace the front of your underwear, the silk sticky with your arousal.

“Oh, baby,” Eddie says, equal parts admonishment and pitying as you squirm into his touch. “What’s got you this worked up, hm?”

He’s asking like he doesn’t know- like he didn’t tease you with filthy whispers and wandering hands in the back of the car the whole way here. 

“Whaddya think,” you scoff, not quite ready to give in yet, enjoying the thrill of being cagey as Eddie hooks a finger to tuck your panties to the side.

He grins, simmering, enjoying the chase just as much as you. His middle finger swipes through your folds and you shudder in his arms, hands tightening into the meat of his shoulders as he brings the wetness up to your clit.

Eddie rubs quick, steady circles until you’re mewling, bucking hips grinding down to seek more friction. You can feel the wetness seeping out of your core, dampening his jeans as he licks back into your mouth, capturing the soft noises you’re making as he winds you up.

“Can’t believe a pretty thing like you has anything to be jealous of.” Eddie noses at the spot under your jaw, and when you let your head fall back on a hinge to grant him access, he sucks another mark into the column of your throat. “‘M all yours, sweetheart. You gonna take what’s yours?”

Truth be told, your mind went fuzzy the second Eddie got his hands on your clit, the consistent build of pleasure sparking between your legs rather distracting. You’d almost forgotten how the night had started, but you let the jealousy and possessiveness creep back in as you push at Eddie’s chest.

He goes down easily, toeing his boots off and lying flat on the mattress; big hands settle on your waist as you rest your weight into him, warm cunt pressing against the bulge of his clothed cock.

At a light drag of your nails against his bare chest and across his nipple, Eddie groans low, squeezing your hips and rucking into you.

“You’re all mine, Eddie, right?” 

His pupils nearly eclipsing their soft brown irises, Eddie stares up at you like you hang the moon and stars every night just for him. “Yeah, sweetheart. ‘M all yours. Lemme show you.”

Eddie pulls at the backs of your legs, helping you shuffle up his body until your knees are dipping into the mattress at either side of his head. Your core hovers just above Eddie’s mouth- you can feel his breath speed up on the inside of your thigh at this new position. 

“Oh, fuck, Eddie- jesus… christ,” the last word ending in a moan as Eddie’s tongue licks a wet stripe through your folds. 

He pulls you closer with an arm over each thigh until you’re sitting on his face, his nose hitting your clit with each tilt of his head. You’ve got no idea how he’s able to breathe down there but you’re hardly able to hold onto that thought when his tongue has started plunging in and out of you.

Automatically, your hands shoot out to stabilize yourself- one hand goes to the headboard and the other ends up in his hair, gripping the roots hard. Eddie groans, sending vibrations that make your cunt clench around his lithe tongue.

“Like the taste of my pussy, baby?” you coo down at him, regaining some of your breath to give him attitude. 

Reaching a hand back to palm at his cock, you say “No one else can have you like this, hm?”

Eddie catches your eyes as he mouths wetly at your clit, then sucks it into his mouth. Your thighs shake around his ears, your orgasm unfurling in clenching ripples.

“Oh, yeah, Eddie, fuck, I’m coming- just like that, fuck fuck fuck…”

He doesn’t stop suckling at you until you’re gushing around his mouth, then pulling him off by his hair to make him stop.

Eddie heaves in a breath, kissing at the inside of your thigh, his lips and chin shiny with your release. “God, baby. Such pretty noises for me.”

“Mhm.” You shuffle down until your hips are aligned over his, then lean in to lick his mouth clean. “Gonna make some pretty ones for me, now?”

After helping pull his shirt off, Eddie whines softly as you press kisses down his bare chest, and by the time your mouth is pressing over that dark trail of hair that leads into his denim, Eddie’s begging.

“Please, angel, please- need your mouth. Do anything for it, baby, please…”

You rub your cheek against his bulge before pulling back to pop the button on his jeans, then help him shift them down and off his body. Once his black briefs join the growing pile of floor clothes, Eddie’s completely bare and at your mercy.

He gets on his elbows to watch as you mouth at the inside of his thigh, dark hair splayed around his shoulders, chest heaving when you ignore his leaking cock in favor of grazing your teeth against a sensitive spot. “Fuckin’- christ, sweetheart. Come on. Please?”

“Sound pretty when you beg,” you say, mildly, kissing across his heavy sack, hiding a smile when the contact makes him jolt. “Gonna do it some more?”

You keep eye contact as you take one of his balls into your mouth, watching his own eyes roll back so far you can see the whites of them as you use your tongue on him. 

“-yeah, baby, yeah- just like that- fucking, fuck, you’re killin’ me…”

Eddie sounds wrecked already, and a hot flush of pride courses through your body at the knowledge that he could come from just this and it’d be you getting him there. 

You mouth over to the other side of his sack, rolling the skin wiry with coarse hair against your tongue as Eddie moans above you. When your hand wraps around the base of his cock, starting to move in tandem with the pull of your mouth, Eddie makes a noise like he’s been punched.

A line of drool breaks and hits wet against your chin as you straighten up, settling yourself into the V of his legs and using his thighs as handholds while you begin to kiss up the line of his leaking cock.

He’s got a gorgeous dick, truly. Thick and long, curving slightly to the right, a pretty blue vein snaking up the underside that you lathe your tongue against, seeking out the salty brine at the ruddy head.

Eddie moans, brokenly, white-knuckled hands twisting into the sheets. When your mouth closes around the tip, his elbows give out, leaving him flat against the mattress as you work his length further in.

“Oh my god. Oh, fuck, baby. Please don’t stop. Please. Y’feel so good…”

You hum around the stretch of him in your mouth, relaxing your throat to draw him in a bit more. The spiky jealousy from earlier really is your biggest motivator here; covetous, you’re thinking back to all those first times with Eddie- trembling hands under your bedsheets back in Hawkins, stilted voices and giggles to cover up the awkwardness of trying to learn the other person’s body.

No one will ever know him like you do. No one will ever have all that shared history, those fumbling nights that slowly turned to lovesick days; memories of him on his knees for you, learning all the little things that make you tick, memorizing the song of your body.

The boy is all yours. 

Your throat automatically constricts at the intrusion of Eddie’s cock slipping past your soft palate- his hips cant up, which you can hardly fault him for, patient as he’s been with your retrospective and teasing.

Before he can apologize you’re sitting up, wiping at the excess drool with the back of your hand and shucking your dress over your head, letting it and your belt fall to the floor with a soft clunk.

Eddie reaches for you again as you slide your panties down and off, and you let him help you up his body, your knees coming to rest alongside the lightly raised scar tissue at his sides. You stroke a hand down his chest, giving in to a moment of softness before seating yourself fully in Eddie’s lap.

His hands snap to your hips, a near-brutal squeeze as you sink onto his cock. The stretch is always an adjustment, but you’re so wet right now that he slides in easily, a breathy moan from the both of you as the walls of your cunt fit snug around his sizeable length.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” The crown of Eddie’s head is pressed back into the bed, veins in his taut neck on full display as your hips start to swivel, blunt nails scraping into the soft flesh of your waist. “Just like that, sweetheart. Fuck me.”

With your knees planted on either side of his body, you begin to bounce in steady, rhythmic earnest, going for gold, the desire to bring your boy to the babbling edge overtaking every other thought.

“Feel so good, Eds, so big… can barely fit…” There’s a wet squelch accompanying each bounce now, slick dripping down to the base of his cock, your vice of a cunt flexing with every movement.

“S’all you, baby,” Eddie rasps out, toes curling in the efforts to keep his orgasm at bay for awhile longer. “Got a perfect pussy. Takin’ me so well.”

He’s almost in delirium territory, with you chasing after that bright unwinding pleasure at both of your cores; your hips stutter, hands flat on Eddie’s chest to center yourself, a hunger that you can’t seem to satiate gnawing at the edges.

Eddie notices immediately, feels the falter in your motion and brings his hands to your forearms, rubbing a path up them soothingly- “What’s wrong, angel, hm?”

You’re not sure how to put it into words, wishing (not for the first time) that you could just rest your forehead against his and transmit all the complexities of your emotions through touch alone. 

Instead, you sigh out the name that you use when you’re done with taking, a name that lights Eddie up from head to toe as you say it- “Teddy.”

In one swift movement, Eddie slips an arm behind your back and flips you to the mattress, his hair a curtain around both your faces as he leans in to whisper against your mouth- “Teddy’s got you. Arms around me.”

You’re quick to obey, looping your arms around Eddie’s wide shoulders. He slides one hand up the back of your leg, pushing a knee up until it’s at your chest, mouth dropping open briefly when the new angle allows the head of his cock to kiss against that gummy upper wall of your cunt.

“Bored of you,” he huffs, recalling your words from earlier with disdain. “You’re talkin’ to the guy who memorized the first six chapters of The Hobbit just to recite for your bedtime.”

A quick thrust of his pelvis into yours has your stomach clenching in anticipation, brows on a tilt and knitting together as Eddie grins down at you. “Got a wicked attention span, baby. Lemme show you.”

He starts slow, agonizingly so, every inch of his thick cock dragging in and out, wetness pooling down your ass and probably the sheets, too; errant thoughts of housekeeping are rapidly erased as Eddie begins snapping his hips into yours in faster tempo.

He’s working to find that spot, the one that turns your brain to mush and is guaranteed to cause full-body muscle fatigue from the force of your orgasm. Your back arches off the bed, breasts pushing into Eddie’s chest, one arm still supporting your lower back as he laughs hoarsely, half-amazement and half-pride.

“That’s the spot, huh, sweetheart? Atta girl. M’all yours. Take it. Good girl…”

With each thrust, the wiry patch of hair dusted across Eddie’s pubic bone grinds slick and filthy against your clit. You’re so close to the edge now, a wave of pleasure cresting as you look up at Eddie.

There are two thin tracks of black makeup trailing down his face from where tears have made a mess of his eyeliner; rosy spots of flushed color in his cheeks, eyes like twin pools of chocolate, locked with yours as he rocks into you. 

He’s learned the song of your body so well, knows every chord to strike- his hand leaves your leg to grasp at your breast, calloused palm against pebbled nipple sending more shockwaves through your body, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you sing for him.

“All yours,” you gasp out, and it feels like victory when his hips stutter and the cresting wave crashes around you both at the same time.

The pleasure roils through your gut, clit throbbing and cunt spasming around Eddie’s cock as he spills into you. 

A wrecked, broken string of moans leaves you as you ride out the highs together. Eddie presses his forehead to your collarbone as he chants your name, twitching out the last of his spend, warmth blooming inside. 

The quiet that follows is filled with shaking breaths, soft kisses, murmurs of “good job, sweetheart” as you both float back down to earth.

Eddie stays in you for longer than usual, his draped weight a grounding comfort as you trail gentle fingertips up and down his skin, lovingly against the scars that interrupt the smooth flesh of his back. Through the closed windows, you can hear the distant sounds of car horns and the deep boom of fireworks. 

Sometime in the last foggy hour of lovemaking, 1987 has given way to a new year. 

Eddie pulls his heavy head up from your chest to press kisses to your collarbone. “Happy new year, lover.”

You tuck his hair behind his ears, hands squishing lightly at his cheeks to bring his face close enough for a kiss. “Happy new year to you. Hell of a way to kick it off.”

Eventually, Eddie extricates himself from the intoxicating heat of your body (with minimal whining) and brings a warm washcloth to tenderly wipe away the mess between your thighs. Once you’re both cleaned up, he stretches out against the sheets, pulling the covers up as you hook a leg around his waist and snuggle in. 

“So I was thinking,” he starts, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “I wanna take a trip back to Hawkins. Before the tour.”

Your hand stills in its rhythmic circles against Eddie’s chest; heart in your throat, you tilt your chin up so you can gauge Eddie’s reaction. “...yeah?”

“Yeah.” Eddie picks up your hand on his chest, twining his fingers with your as his other hand settles on your bare hip beneath the sheets. “Could visit Wayne for a few days, fool around in that twin bed like we’re teens again.”

He grins at your giggle, taps playfully at your hip- “Gonna parade you around all our old haunts. You’ve gotten even hotter since we left, babe. Gotta really rub it in the faces of those Hawkins Tigers burnouts whose best dates are their own left hands.”

You snort, and Eddie looks pleased again, but then sobers a bit before saying- “I mean, I’ve got my piece of home with me. But I think it could be good, to visit. Just the two of us.”

You’re quiet for a moment, a longing for home that you’ve managed to ignore these past few years resurfacing. “Can we get high and go to that diner? I mean, Nell’s isn’t as good as Benny’s was, but I’ve been craving a Hawkins milkshake.”

“Christ.” Eddie hides his smile in the crook of your neck, dimples springing to life. “You could ask for the Mona Lisa and I’d find a way to get it to you. Fries and a milkshake, that all I need to keep my girl happy?”

“Yeah,” you reply, a contented noise as Eddie settles against your chest again. “That’s all I need.”

___

thank u thank u for reading if you made it this far have a little kiss from me to you <3 xx lulu

[junovae]

can you write about the sexy fish man (you know the one)

why yes of course i know which sexy fish man you're talking about!

soft hits, hard truths

sebastian solace x reader ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ slight nsfw

artwork: artwork is NOT mine. art is by @grub-hut on tumblr. go check out their work. sebastian mf solace, everyone

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

summary: after a misunderstanding, sebastian refuses to let you go to bed angry with him. determined to make amends, he begrudgingly starts a pillow flight.

cw: sebastian solace x reader, fluff-ish, suggestive themes of intimacy (MDNI), sebastian is bad at comforting, he tries anyways, you've known him for a few weeks now, a sort of romantic relationship is already established between you two, his shop has a shower and spare mattress in the back, thank goodness he had soap and pajamas, amends are made if you know what i mean

wc: 916

a.n: in honor of beating pressure and sacrificing my posture in order to do it, cheers.

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

water droplets fall onto the cement floor as you wring the rest of your wet hair dry. fortunately, sebastian solace had allowed you to stay in his shop for the rest of the night after a day of running from the monsters of the hadal blacksite. unfortunately, you had just found out that he was the primary reason you were being chased by said monsters in the first place.

you walk out of the barely functioning restroom into a cozy little cubby-space just behind his shop. sebastian watched you dry the rest of your hair as you walked towards a broken mirror and started combing through it with your fingers. fuck, he thought to himself. he so badly wanted to be the one to brush the rest of your hair just so you didn't have to lift a finger. but of course he wasn’t going to say that out loud.

"will you talk to me?" he mumbled under his breath, making his way towards you. you eye him from the mirror but continue doing what you're doing. you feel his presence behind you and sure enough, you watch him lean down and rest his forehead against your shoulders.

you smelled like vanilla. you smelled like the vanilla he used to smell during the winter holidays and it was driving him insane. "i'm sorry, okay?" he whispers. now this caught your attention. "did the sebastian solace just say the words 'i'm sorry' to me?" you turn around and walk towards the makeshift bed. he follows you. "i don’t believe it.” a sigh escapes your lips, plopping down onto the mattress and covering yourself with the blanket. you turn away from him.

“i didn’t mean for things to turn out this way- well, okay i did, but i didn’t expect meeting you midway through my plans.” sebastian scratches the back of his neck, staring at your figure. “fishbait, if you hadn’t crawled through the vents and into my shop, i wouldn’t care who gets eaten by those monsters. but you did, and now it sucks seeing you get hurt because now i…”

he trailed off, his voice catching. shit, this was hard. years of solitude and roaming the dreadful cold hallways of his captors’ prison had hardened his heart. he didn’t expect it to happen, but your presence and excessive bantering had brought back an excitement in him (though he would always mask it off with annoyance). all sebastian knew was that even though life sucked, seeing you made it suck less. he couldn’t take it anymore. he needed to hear your voice again. the void of silence between the two of you was starting to create an atmosphere of distance. he couldn't care less if the world hated him, he hated it back. but there was no way in hell he would allow you to look at him with such loathing. panic settling in him, sebastian impulsively does something that catches you off-guard. he grabs the nearest soft pillow and throws it in your direction. it hits your face.

you quickly turn around and sit up to shoot him a sharp glare, pillow now in hand. “are you serious?” you seethe.

“i’m dead serious,” he said, grabbing another pillow. “you’re mad at me? fine. but you’re not shutting me out.” before you could react, he throws a second pillow. this time, it lands in your lap.

he notices a flicker of something crossing your face - anger, disbelief, and… maybe a hint of amusement.

“big mistake,” you shoot him a sly smile.

you launch the pillow in his direction and suddenly, there was war. more pillows flew, tension unraveling with each hit. the both of you were laughing now, dodging attacks and running around the small room. it wasn’t fair that he was larger than you in size but you could make do. and plus, he was extra careful in making sure not to hit you too hard. and here in this moment, seeing another side of him, you realize that you could never stay mad at sebastian solace for too long.

tired from the fight, you trip onto the mattress and fall backwards. he follows suit and lands on top of you, your faces inches apart, panting and out of breath. he supports himself with one arm as he gazes at you with an unreadable expression. “do you forgive me?” he whispers, breathless. the room was a mess, but your silence had been broken.

you plant a soft kiss on his forehead. it was truly unfortunate that the both of you were placed in this prison against your wills, but you knew that he would never intentionally hurt you. “i forgive you.”

oh fuck, he melted. impulsively, he slides one of his hands behind your back and pulls you closer to him, taking your mouth in his, kissing you fervently. your arms tighten around his neck, kissing him deeper, soft moans and grunts replacing the silence. in a heated frenzy, you guide one of his hands downwards. he grumbles as he lifts your shirt up, trailing wet kisses down your stomach.

you smile, feeling the warmth of his mouth. “to make up for you nearly killing me, does this mean i get a discount at your shop tomorrow?”

he laughed, a warm, deep and genuine sound that softened the space between you. “i’d give you a discount every day for free, fishbait… but this,” he whispers sliding down your pajamas, “this is just a huge bonus.”

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

[hoshigray]

Hi!! I love your Toji so much you write him so well 🙏🏼 I was wondering if you could write something smutty about motorcyclist toji or like something to do with a car 🙊

Tysm, noonieeeeee~♡ ;w; Not ppl actually liking how I write for this sly bastard!! And oooooo a motorcyclist!?? Lol, never thought I'd write something with this idea, but here we are!! Please enjoy~~~ Also!! Just announced a series that I'll be writing for the summer, so check it out if you're interested!

Cw: Toji x fem!reader - explicit content so minors DNI - oral (f!receiving) - the reader is in college studying for finals - Daddy kink - motorcyclist! Toji - sexual acts in a public space (at a park in the night) - pet names (baby, angel, pumpkin, sweetie) - pussy drunk! Toji - clitoral play (plus light bites to the clit) - fingering - overstimulation - it ends on a cute note bc I'm feeling soft. Wc: 1.7k

The time is 10:45 p.m. when you look up at your laptop. You look around to see the work-study employee come in your direction, and you smile with recognition since you know they're about to tell you it's time to go. They smile back, turn back to where they came from, and you stand up to gather up your things.

It was the beginning of finals week, and it's been downright abysmal. Not only do you have three papers to write (one being a minimum of eight pages), but you also have a group presentation and two in-person exams three hours long each. You and your roommates barely get enough time to hang out, especially when you're practically cooped up in the library all day like today. When library hours are over, you walk to another building where you spend more hours studying and writing. And by the time you get to your dorm, you go straight to sleep and repeat the process.

It doesn't take rocket science to know that you — and everyone on the campus — have absolutely abhorred exams. However, for the sake of your grades, you endure it and do what you can. As long as you have a proper place to study and stop by your campus café for some quick grub, so be it.

But now, you've been studying non-stop without wasting time on distractions. It's time to go; you'll probably call it a night and head for bad. Your productivity finally dwindled down to exhaustion. I'll jump onto Discord to chat with some friends and see what they've been up to. They're probably doing better than what I'm going through...And if he's still awake, I should definitely call—

As you put your bag on your shoulder, the sound of an engine catches your attention. A motorbike engine. At first, you figured it was coming from the main street until it started getting closer. Is someone ordering Doordash or something? Curiosity has you as you walk down the stairs to exit through the entrance, waving goodbye to the receptionist who's also getting ready to leave.

When you enter the chilly outside air, the owner of said noise is parked in front of the entrance, the vehicle stationed for him to lean back and briefly look at his phone before putting it away. They're wearing a dark denim jacket covering a black shirt and some jeans. And a jet-black helmet that shields them with their tinted visor. Their dark appearance fits the dreary, foggy atmosphere, the lampposts only making them visible to the eye.

You freeze for a second when the mysterious person turns to face you, and you offer an awkward smile and nod as a quick greeting before heading your way. But then the person removes their helmet to reveal themselves to you, and your eyes widen.

With slightly messy raven hair and green eyes that capture your figure, the man flashes a grin that pulls his scarred lip upwards. Toji Fushiguro, your boyfriend you haven't seen since Easter break, was here.

"Hey, baby." It feels like forever since you've heard his gruff voice, and it has you smiling hard in seconds.

"Toji!" You run up to him for a hug which is returned, sinking into his strong arms and warm chest while his cologne fills your nostrils. "What are you doing here?"

"Thought I could come down here and surprise my lil' angel," he sways you in his arms, relishing having you in his embrace. "I texted you that I was gonna pull up."

You withdraw from the hug and look at him with mild confusion. "You did?" You quickly grab your phone from your pocket and go to your messages, only to see that he, in fact, texted you earlier. Two hours ago. "You did...Sorry, must've left my phone when I was heading out to grab something to eat."

He shrugs and slides his hands down your waist to pull you close again. "How're your exams goin'?"

"Terrible." He chuckles when you give him a faux pout. "I got one paper out the way, but the others...at least I've started on them."

"Mmm, I bet." He responds with a hand on your cheek and your forehead. "Gonna head home to study some more?"

His big warm palm nestles perfectly against your cheek as you lean to his touch. "Nah, I'm too exhausted, and I'm too stressed to think anymore. That's for tomorrow."

Toji hums with a smile. "Well, think y'r too stressed to hang with me for a while? Maybe I can relieve some tension."

You raise a brow at him and his smug grin. "Oh yeah? How're you gonna do that?"

"Hop on so you can find out." The man removes his hands from you to open the trunk of his motorcycle, handing you a helmet — your helmet as it's your favorite color.

You give your boyfriend a look. "This better not be like last time when you took me to some random ramen place where we ate super spicy ramen to the point of boogers running down from my nose."

He laughs. "No, it's not gonna be like that. Now get your cute ass on so we can go, pumpkin."You still study his face, yet don't try to argue while putting on your helmet and take your spot behind him after putting your bag in the trunk.

When he knows you're appropriately sitting in the passenger seat with your arms linked around his waist, he starts the engine and revs the vehicle before moving. The two of you drive away from the school premise. You can only wonder where the man is taking you, but your trust in him has no bounds. And you just watch the lights and people of the vicinity fly past as you rest against him.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

The two of you pulled up to a parking lot of a quiet park. No sign of children playing on the playground as it's way past their bedtimes, and not a single person on the basketball court playing a late game. Just the still park paired with the comforting silence and humid, cool air.

Nothing but quiet, minus your whimpers leaving evading your lips. "Haaaah—Ahhh! Daddy...'S too much, feel so—Hmmm!"

You're now lying on Toji's motorcycle, your back on the seats and your hands gripping the handlebars. Your lower half was completely exposed, with your bottoms and panties discarded around your leg. Your boyfriend was busy burying his face between your legs on his shoulders, his firm hands on your waist to keep you steady and close.

With the flick of his tongue on your clit, you bite your lip to repress a whine. But Toji wanted your cries. "Mmmm, don't do that, sweetie. No one's around, so lemme hear you."

His tongue goes back between your slick-coated vulva, sucking and lapping around the folds to have your essence in his mouth. His nose brushes up against your clitoris, resulting in a lovely moan from your swollen lips.

It's been about 10 minutes of just him ravishing your body outside this public park. You've already come three times, yet the man is relentless in having you again. He's so stubborn, so selfish. But God, it feels so good.

"Nnnmph! Hoooo—Ohhh! D-Daddy, please, your tongue, it's tew muuuch!" Your words are slurred, brain too foggy to properly speak with his tongue "Can't cumm anymore...Aaaahhhh!!"

Unbeknownst to you, Toji sneaks a hand down to your clitoris and swipes up and down with the sensitive button. Your body jerks upward from the surprise, but Toji's other hand keeps you grounded on the stationed vehicle so you and the motorbike don't go kissing the ground. "C'mon, sweetie. One more fr' me."

Before you could protest further, his tongue laves your clit again, sucking on the poor bud and lightly brushing it against his teeth. Eyes roll to the back of your head as your hips jolt to the abuse of your poor bud, and his free hand switches places to finger your leaky chasm with your fluids coating his digits.

Your release hits you hard for the fourth time that night, and your legs quake with a sharp shiver down your spine. Your cunt spasms around his fingers while the euphoric aftershocks send your body trembling.

Toji removes his face from you and looks down at your dazed expression from capitulating to your high. He whistles. "Damn, you're lookin' good lying on my bike all fucked out like this, angel."

Even in a haze, you send the man a glare. "I hope you brought a towel to clean me up."

"To clean my bike, actually." Your glare hardens, and it makes the older man snicker. "Relax, I got another one just for you."

It takes a few minutes for you to dry yourself up and for the bike to be clean of your essence and sweat. Once you pull up your bottoms, Toji has his eyes on you. "Did that help with y'r stress?"

"Mmmm, yeah, I think so." You give him a peck on the scar on his lips. "Thanks, Toji."

"No problem, kid." He pulls you by the waist to bring you close so he can rest his chin on your head. "Wanna spend the night at my place?"

"......Is that why you drove me like fifteen minutes away from my school?"

He doesn't answer.

"And I'm pretty sure we've been here before because isn't this the same park that Megumi and Tsumiki play at?"

"......"

You peer up to face the silent man. "Toji—"

The older man leans down to kiss your plump lips softly, silencing your words. With a heavy sigh, he puts his forehead atop yours. "I missed ya, kid."

The tiny confession takes you aback for a moment, but your smile appears for him to see. "Awww, did my big Toji miss having me all to himself~?"

"Shut up." He playfully bites your cheek, prompting giggles that sound like sweet music to his ears.

"I missed you too, Toji." You say with loving eyes. "Once I'm done with finals, take me on a nice long ride on your motorcycle, 'kay?"

He hums to your request and kisses you once more. "Sounds like a plan."

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Good Boys

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 516 WC

Request from @lumar014ad - thank you!

Warnings: none - this is pure fluff

Masterlist

---------------

Astarion set down the new ball you asked him to get Scratch while he was in the city. He left his tent, going to search for you as the sun went down. Lately you liked to watch the moon come out from the broken tower near camp. Astarion walked up the stairs softly, coming to the third floor he finally saw you. Your back was laying against the owlbear, Scratch laid under one arm, Grub under the other, Us laid by your feet. Astarion chuckled, alerting you of his presence. 

“Hi,” you said, turning your head and smiling at him. 

“Hello darling,” Astarion said, sitting next to you while gently petting Scratch.

“I can’t believe you keep that demented thing.” Astarion said while pointing at Us.

You playfully smacked his arm, “Us is a delight, how dare you.” 

Astarion laughed as he watched the stars start to shine, the moon enveloping the night. “You’re radiant, you know.” he gently pushed away the hair falling in front of your eyes.

“That’s just the moon Star.” you whispered his nickname sleepily as you took hold of his hand.

“Not just your body darling… look at how life and love blossoms with you near. Animals have a sense about them, they can detect good and evil. I think you have to be an angel the way they love you.” Astarion said, looking at you fondly. 

“I love them, they know were a family. My group of good boys.” Astarion’s heart jumped when you motioned between you, the pets, and him. He was your family.

The pocket on the front of your jacket shuffled a bit, drawing Astarion’s attention away momentarily. You closed your eyes, knowing you were caught in this moment. “What is that?” Astarion asked, pulling faintly at the pocket to view inside.

You moved Astarion’s hand aside, pulling out your new friend. In your hand laid a small bat, flitting about slightly before nuzzling its head into your hand. You smiled at the creature. “I think he’s waiting for a friend.” you said.

“Looks like you’re his new friend.” Astarion laughed. 

Just then, the bat took off. Meeting another bat in the rafters of the tower. They twirled and swooped around one another hypnotically.

“What possesses them to do such a thing?” Astarion asked as he watched them closely.

You smiled, running a finger over his cheekbone then his jaw. “Protection.” Astarion turned to look at you, “Ensuring those they love are safe.” you kissed his cheek. You hooked your pinky with his while leaning your forehead on his. “We’re safe. This family is safe.” You knew Astarion worried and doubted himself often. You wanted him to know just how truly you felt about him. He’s your everything. 

Astarion kissed your lips, “I love you.” he said, barely pulling away.

“I love you.” you said back, kissing him softly over and over again. Astarion settled himself next to you, watching the still night.

“Did you get Scratch a new ball?” you asked, gingerly petting the sleeping dog's head.

Astarion chuckled a bit, “Of course.”

Thanks for reading! Send a request or leave a comment and I might just write it! Ilysm <3

[undead-supernova]

HIGH TOLERANCE

Only 10mg / Masterlist

Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5

warnings: so much angst, a night gone wrong, more (derogatory) Steve, Gertrude (extra derogatory), Delta-9 gummies

pairings: modern!bestfriend!Eddie x bisexual!fem!reader

plot: dates aren't always what you want them to be...let alone with people who you don't really want to be on dates with

wc: 4k

song inspirations: VOID by Melanie Martinez, We Are Nobody Else by Lady Lamb

“What do you mean you haven’t seen any movies this year?”

“I mean, I’ve seen movies. I just haven’t found anything I thought was interesting in the last eight months.”

“What do you watch then?”

This morning you actually found someone on Hinge named Gertrude and by the afternoon you were on a lunch date. And you’d thought they were cute when you met up at Grub Burger, like really cute, with thin-rimmed rectangular glasses and a long dark braid down their back. They had a soft voice and an even softer smile…but it was quickly starting to go downhill.

Every question they threw at you felt like an investigation where you were wrong every single time, as if your preferences weren’t good enough. Even the lack of movies you’d seen.

In your defense, you usually went to the movie theater if Eddie asked. He was really good at guessing when a movie’s going to be worthwhile (and you weren’t). He never once disappointed. He’d also never taken you to a movie without at least giving you something of the cannabis persuasion and buying a large popcorn for you to share. 

Sometimes he even bought your ticket.

Which you always pretended were dates like the desperate woman you were.

“Yeah, I really like 2000s movies,” you replied, shrugging. “I’ll pop on a Seth Rogan film every once and a while. Like, I know they’re a little outdated or whatever, but they’re fun. Oh, especially if you smoke some weed. Then it’s super funny. Like, This Is The End? It’s just cool to see all these actors—"

“I mean, they’re, like, super problematic,” Gertrude interrupted.

You nodded. “No, I know,” you agreed, scratching at your neck. “I know. It’s not the best, but like, I recognize that. I don’t think it’s all funny. And it’s not just Seth Rogan, there are other genres like dramas and fantasy and horror. Have you heard of the movie The Invisible? It’s about this guy who dies and is a ghost and can’t talk to anyone and finds out he—”

“I just thought because you’re queer, you’d have better standards for the media you consume.”

Pausing, you felt yourself deflate. You shrugged again, wondering how this conversation was turning into something else entirely. “I mean, I think you could argue that every piece of media is problematic, depending on the way you look at it. If you acknowledge that the media you like is flawed, you’re still allowed to enjoy it. It’s not that hard.”

Gertrude gave you that judgmental look again, pushing their fork around their French fries. “Agree to disagree. Anyways, maybe you should ask me a question now.”

As if I had had any chance to ask anything since we sat down.

“Uh, okay. What’s your favorite color?”

Gertrude finally smiled for the first time since you’d greeted each other. They really were pretty. There was just something so grating about their attitude…

“I think I like a soft yellow, something bright and cheery.”

You nodded, trying to seem more interested than you were. Some part of you even felt like laughing. “Yeah, yellow’s a good color. Very vibrant. Makes you happy.”

“What about you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe black? Red?”

Steve sighed, scratching his bare thigh before going back to his cherry and goat cheese ice cream. Eddie merely stared down at his cream puff flavor, unsure as to why he thought this date would be a good idea. He’d suggested they go out to get ice cream (definitely not to distract himself from what was probably happening across town with someone who he definitely wasn’t thinking about). 

But Steve didn’t remotely hesitate, making Eddie think that maybe that was a sign. He was in it now. They were getting somewhere…

If only it hadn’t started going downhill just from asking basic questions that they somehow hadn’t thought of in the last however many years of knowing each other.

“Ah, come on, Eddie. You can’t say red!”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed, trying not to get irritated. “Why not?” he asked. “It’s a color. That was part of the assignment.”

“I just feel like it’s a little stereotypical for you.”

“Why, ‘cause I like metal?” Eddie guessed with a sigh sitting in the back of his throat. He was careful not to release it.

“Uh, yeah,” Steve replied. Like it was obvious. Like it was stupid. “Precisely.”

“Okay, then what’s yours, big guy?”

“Probably red or green,” you answered. “Not a soft green. More like a deep emerald?”

“Like Christmas?”

You shook your head. To give them credit, it was a common question you got whenever anyone cared enough to ask.

Well, except for one person...

“Well, no. I wouldn’t consider myself someone who likes Christmas all that much.”

“Let me guess, your favorite holiday is something weird, like St. Patrick’s Day.”

What the hell was this person even talking about? Were they hearing themselves talk?

You successfully suppressed your sigh before you decided to answer honestly. “Uh, my favorite holiday is Halloween.”

“Next you’re gonna tell me your favorite holiday is Halloween.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Uh, because it is.” What was Steve even talking about? Why was he suddenly being so fucking judgmental? “Let me guess, your favorite is Christmas,” he bit back.

Steve laughed, oblivious to Eddie’s venom. “Yeah, the lights are cool. The hot chocolate with the peppermint in it. Oh, and the snow. You can layer everything. I mean, it’s cute. Plus,” he stopped, clearly trying to make his next sentence sound less rude. “I just think Halloween is a little…meh.”

“Meh?”

Steve shrugged. “Yeah.”

“What beef do you have with Halloween?”

“It’s just a little overdone, don’t you think?”

You shook your head, appalled as to why they didn’t get how important the holiday was. 

“No, I think it’s about expressing yourself and becoming something more than what you are. It gives kids a moment of exploration of themselves and creativity. Not to mention its importance for queer people and how they can have one night where they can be themselves—"

“—without the scrutiny of the public. We could walk out in drag or anything feminine whatsoever and it’s not considered threatening, even if that’s shitty in and of itself. But it’s still that opportunity.” Eddie smiled to himself. “That chance. It’s bringing a sense of fucking safety that’s otherwise missing.”

Steve nodded before he shrugged, scraping at the bottom of his cup. “Yeah, you make a good point. I guess I haven’t really thought about it like that.”

Eddie forgot that he and Steve never really had conversations like these. It was usually you who he could talk to for hours on end, deconstructing what it meant to live and how everything was about perspective. Inebriated, sober—it didn’t matter. Like those days at the aquarium, you were able to see the bigger picture at the end of the day. You talked about stuff like this without even having to be asked.

That ticket still sat in his wallet. He always took it out whenever he needed a pick-me-up. It gave him a spark of hope that life could change for the better if someone like you existed.

Steve kept talking, but Eddie was pulling out his wallet and running his fingers over the ticket like it would bring you here and he could have you here instead. 

As you and Gertrude fell into silence, you put your hand in your skirt pocket, feeling the smoothness of Eddie’s yellow pick. Tracing the edges, you wondered what it felt like for him to run it down his strings. How it fit in his fingers. 

How he was doing.

Where he was.

If he was available.

You looked at Gertrude, watching them scroll through their TikTok feed, volume up, before you stood and grabbed your purse.

“I have to go.”

Eddie watched Steve reach the very bottom of his cup, hoping there was a way for him to slip in a reason to leave. Because, holy shit, this was a piss poor excuse for a date.

He looked back over at the long line forming at the door, knowing you would die to have a cup of the wildberry lavender flavor. You were a big fan of Jeni’s Ice Cream and always gave him grief whenever he went without you. It was kind of funny how your face would screw up as you yelled at him for being a traitor. He nearly chuckled at the memory. 

And it suddenly hit him that he was way more concerned with his thoughts of you.

How your date was going.

Where you were.

If you were available.

Fuck having a good enough reason to leave.

“Can we go?”

You basically sprinted to your car, barely registering how rude you had just been. You didn’t say goodbye, didn’t even give them an excuse. But you argued to, well, yourself that telling them some shitty excuse would be ruder than not saying anything at all. 

All you wanted was to talk to Eddie and tell him about how awful your date was. How mean Gertrude was and how confused you were about what the hell you’d done to deserve their scrutiny.

Sighing, you scrambled into the front seat and tossed your phone onto the passenger seat.  Pulling out Eddie’s guitar pick, you tried to calm yourself down. You studied the brand, the tiny tortoise outline with the shell replaced with the Tortex brand name. It read that it was a Dunlop, 50mm. Smooth. Thin. The kind Eddie always said he preferred, always said it hit the strings so magically. Said it rang out the bottom E string, like it was trying to reach the heavens and got there every time. 

And there was your eyeliner, ruining it.

You shook your head, resigning to the fact that you probably should just go home and isolate yourself for a while. Try and figure out how the hell you were supposed to be normal around Eddie and Steve the next time you saw them together.

Is that how it’s going to be now? you wondered, feeling nausea pool in your stomach. Are they going to be a package deal? Is that something I could survive?

For how long?

Before you could even start your car, your phone started going off. As soon as you saw Eddie’s picture pop up, you let out a sigh of relief.

“Hey,” he breathed, sounding as exhausted as you felt.

“Hey, hello,” you replied, trying to calm yourself down. “Hi. I was actually about to call you.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. I just had the worst date ever,” you grumbled, trying to rub the eyeliner off the pick.

“Me, too.”

You sat up straighter, shoving the pick back in your pocket. “Really?”

“God, yeah. I’m never going to Jeni’s without you again.”

“You went to Jeni’s without me?” With Steve, you felt like adding. 

But you were going to be good. Just this once.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Like I said, I’m never going without you ever again.” You let out an irritated huff. “Listen, Weirdo, would you mind if I came over and we took some edibles and, like, watched a movie?”

Thank God.    

“Yes, please.”

“See you in twenty?”

You smiled. “See you in twenty. Traitor.”

Eddie had gotten back to your apartment at the same time as you, both fighting for the closest parking spot with playful honks. You may have almost hit his van. And he could (maybe) admit that he almost deserved it.

“That’s rude,” he said as he hopped down from the van. “That’s just—”

He stopped as he finally got a look at you. Because it wasn’t even fair anymore, the way you just being you flustered him. Just standing next to your car with a simple Joan Jett t-shirt tucked into a short skirt and black Converse. Some sword earrings. And fishnets. Fucking fishnets.

Did he mention that you were wearing a different pair than the night before?

How many do you fucking own?

“That’s just what?” you asked, looking confused.

Eddie had to get a grip. He couldn’t keep doing this, couldn’t keep losing his focus whenever you were around. Hell, he was already losing his focus when you weren’t. When you were looking like this, it made everything worse. Much, much worse. 

He shook his head before poking your shoulder. “Extremely rude.”

You rolled your eyes and swatted his hand away, starting the short walk up to your apartment. “Hey, you asked me to hang and then you tried to steal my favorite parking spot? Where are your manners?”

“I think we both know I lost those years ago.”

“Okay, weirdo,” you said.

“Uh, what did you just call me?” Eddie asked playfully, clasping his hand over his chest. 

A giggle escaped your lips as you ascended the stairs, making his smile widen.

“You heard me!” you exclaimed as you quickened your pace up the steps. “And I will not be taking it back!”

The two of you bickered like always, going back and forth with seemingly no end to each bit that you started and never truly seemed to finish. Sometimes it felt like he couldn’t help himself around you, always excited to hear what you had to say or what you wanted to do. Anything you wanted, because any opportunity to be around you was an opportunity worth taking.

You decided to heat up leftover soup for you both, maneuvering around the kitchen while you complained about the weather and your upstairs neighbor who was taking all the warm water these days despite the scorching heat.

Eddie wouldn’t admit it, but he was having a hard time paying attention to your words. How could he when your hands were waving around the air and putting your hair up? How in the hell was he supposed to pay attention when you decided to run chapstick over your lips? Or when you bent down to take your shoes off, skirt riding up just enough to reveal the lining of red underwear? And how was he supposed to feel normal when you were wearing the cutest fucking socks, with black cats sporting witch hats next to a brewing cauldron? 

“I’m gonna go pick out a movie,” Eddie said suddenly, backing away from the kitchen.

“Oh, yeah,” you said absentmindedly as you fiddled with the microwave. “That’s a really good idea. What’re you gonna put on?”

“No idea,” he lied. “Absolutely no idea.”

After you finished the chickpea and sausage soup, you and Eddie popped 10mg Delta-9 gummies and decided to chill on the couch. As soon as Eddie pressed play on your remote, you immediately knew it was the opening to When Harry Met Sally. Like always. 

But it wasn’t like you were paying attention. If anything, you were talking over it like you were in a crowded room. Small talk here and there until you were unable to keep your questions to yourself.

“So, you said your date with Steve didn’t go well,” you said. “Do you want to maybe talk about it?”

Eddie groaned, throwing his hands over his face. You may have taken the opportunity to stare at him, how his tattoos were visible. He’d shown up in his jean jacket but discarded it as if he was taunting you with only a black tank top and jeans. His guitar pick necklace around his neck. Rings. Threaded bracelets and watch. That fucking nail polish…

Focus, you told yourself. Just focus.

“I don’t know…” he trailed, biting his lip.

“I’ll share mine if you share yours,” you suggested.

A sigh left his lips before he gave in. “He thought it was predictable that I liked black and Halloween.”

“Has he even met you?” you asked, scoffing. “Of course you do. That’s, like, your whole thing. It’s not predictable, it’s just who you are.”

“I know! It was so weird. We’ve known each other since high school. I don’t know how he didn’t know that already. Rob knows more than him, apparently.”

“She’s extremely observant,” you noted.

Too observant.

“That’s a good...observation.” Now it was your turn to groan, making Eddie laugh before he added, “Now’s your turn, Weirdo.”

Well, I couldn’t stop thinking about you the entire time. So what does that say about me?

“I got absolutely slammed for my shitty 2000s comedies.”

“But Michael Cera is a visionary…” he trailed, confused.

“Well, apparently they’re all problematic and I’m damaging our community.”

Eddie shook his head, rolling his eyes. “Whatever. So is everything else. Besides, you don’t even laugh at the bad stuff. It’s like eating around a bad food you like. It’s not like the whole plate is bad, right? Most of it’s good.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” you exclaimed, throwing your hand up. “It’s like eating at Waffle House. You know it’s not going to be the best meal you’ve ever had, but damn if those waffles don’t hit the spot every time. Especially when you’re fucked up.”

“You get it! You may be the smartest person I’ve met.”

“Or maybe the dumbest.”

“Nah, you’re pretty intelligent…when you want to be.”

“Ouch!” you said, grabbing one of your throw pillows and whacking him with it. “Take that.”

Before you could take another shot, he took the pillow from you and hit you back. “You deserved that one, Weirdo.”

You fell into gentle laughter, shaking your head at him before you sighed and leaned your head on the back cushion. Eddie readjusted, also leaning his head back so he could make eye contact with you. He wrapped his arms around the pillow, hugging it to his chest.

For a moment, you just kind of sat there and looked at him. Watched his eyes flicker back and forth between yours while you did the same. Studied the brown, the way his pupils dilated as you kept staring at each other. You couldn’t say how long that lasted before you finally said something.

“I just don’t think it’s supposed to be this hard.”

 “What, dating?” he asked, tightening his grasp on the pillow.

“Yeah.”

He nodded, letting out a hum. “I don’t think so, either.”

You looked away from Eddie’s gaze to find him fiddling with the pillow’s black fringe, clearly anxious about something. It was exactly how he played with his lighter or tapped his leg. Rapid, incessant. Finding his bearings through the texture as if it could keep his attention longer than a few seconds.

And then he said your name, bringing your eyes back to his.

“Should I keep seeing Steve?” he asked.

This time you were the one readjusting, feeling yourself scoot even closer to him. Your legs were touching, the blanket seeming to slip halfway off you two. But neither of you moved to fix it. 

“Does Steve make you happy?”

“I…I don’t know.” He let out a staggered breath. “I think so.”

And you tried not to, but your leg was slipping further down his calf. Blanket be damned—you were already starting to burn.

“Tell me something. Why do you always put When Harry Met Sally on?” you asked, trying to steer away from the subject of Steve Harrington. Trying to distract yourself from the heat building inside you. Trying to distract yourself from thinking something stupid. “I thought the second Lord of the Rings movie was your favorite. The Two Towers.”

He shrugged. “No, yeah. The Two Towers is my favorite. I just think I’ve just always related to When Harry Met Sally. Always missing my chances, opportunities. Always just one step away from getting what I want.”

Was Eddie getting…closer?

You raised an eyebrow. “Missing your chances?”

And why was he staring at your mouth?

“Yeah.”

But weren’t you also staring at his?

“Are you, um, Harry?” you asked, trying to keep yourself from doing something stupid. “Or are you Sally?”

Why was he so close to making you do something stupid?

“Depends on the day,” he said, softer this time.

And why was he leaning closer, searching your eyes for some kind of confirmation that this was okay?

And why were you about to let him?

“What do you want?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

Eddie didn’t answer, the hum of Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal being the only sound left in the room other than your shared breathing. 

“What has she done? She makes desserts.”

It was growing heavier the closer he got to you, maybe the closest you’d ever been since you met. And it was so strange, the way he affected you.

“You all went to a Met game together?”

Your fingers reached out, searching for his. Found it on his thigh, also reaching for yours. Fingers touching, itching to twine. And it was so strange, the way he moved you.

“But Sally hates baseball.”

And there Eddie was, leaning in more and more, his breath seeming to intoxicate you the more it fanned over your face.

“Harry doesn’t even like sweets.”

But it was dangerous, the way he could break you.

His lips just barely brushed yours before you pulled back.

“No,” you said.

“What?” Eddie asked, leaning back. “Are you okay?”

All you could think about was Steve. Eddie literally just told you he was happy with Steve and then he was going to, what, kiss you? What business did he have doing that? And what business did you have being a homewrecker?

“I think you should go,” you said sternly, throwing the blanket off and standing.

Eddie looked up at you like he was confused. As if he wasn’t just trying to do something incredibly stupid.

“What? Really?”

You walked over to the opposite end of the living room, desperate to stay the hell away from him. Because there was some part of you that was wondering how stupid kissing him would really be. But maybe if you stayed as far away from him as possible, you wouldn’t be tempted. You couldn’t be. 

“Yep.”

Eddie shook his head, standing. “What just happened here?” he asked. “Like, seriously.”

You shook your head. “I just want you to go, Eddie. Okay?”

“No, not okay. Jesus H Christ,” he huffed, throwing the pillow on the couch. “You can’t just kick me out and not even tell me what I’m doing wrong.”

“You should figure that one out for yourself. You’re probably too high anyway,” you said, maybe a little too bitterly.

“It was only ten milligrams,” he emphasized. “And maybe, just maybe, I need to be given some clear fucking communication.”

“You’ll figure it out.” 

He gave you a hard stare. “Really? Is this really what you’re doing right now?”

“What?” you pushed. “What am I doing?”

Say it, you thought. Eddie, please just say it.

“Maybe you should figure that one out for yourself,” he mocked.

And before you could figure out how to respond, Eddie turned away from you. He stomped over to the kitchen counter, grabbing his keys and wallet before walking towards the door.

“For the record,” he said, turning back to look at you in the eye. “I’m completely sober. You of all people should know I have a high tolerance.”

Eddie opened the door and slammed it right behind him.

Eddie couldn’t stop his thoughts firing at a rapid pace as he nearly sprinted to the van. He was going to pass out, he was so sure of it this time. Hell, he was dying. He had to be dying. There was no way he was going to survive this.

The kiss. The fucking kiss. He was going to kiss you. He was actually going to do it.

Eddie’s fingers trembled as he tried to unlock the driver’s side. But the keys slipped from his fingers, clanging onto the asphalt. 

“Fuck,” he whispered, barely able to fight against whatever was grabbing hold of his throat and tightening its grasp. Shaking his head, he leaned his back against the driver’s side door. “Shit.”

Eddie clutched his chest for real this time, feeling his heart race. The panic was flooding his system, tears pricking at his eyes as he tried to focus on the breeze. The white noise of it moving through the trees. The stupid fucking squirrel nearly getting run over as someone barreled through the speed bumps. Your fucking Halloween socks.

This was going wrong. All of it. Every single last scrap of dignity he had was gone. He blew it. He fucking blew it.

If he was stronger, he would turn back around and bang on your door. Demand that you talk about this and tell you how your shared avoidance was going to be the death of any and all chance at a relationship. Kiss you the way he knew he could, knew he would. 

Because there was no way, no way, that nothing was happening between you two. 

He knew it. You knew it.

If only he was strong enough.

And it was occurring to him that he didn’t feel this way about Steve. If anything, he could never feel this way about him. And, frankly, he was starting to truly understand that it had nothing to do with Steve. It was everyone. He would never be able to feel this way about anyone else.

This time, Eddie couldn’t shake that off.

This time, Eddie knew that something had to change.

You couldn’t help but hope he’d turn back. That he’d walk right back in and kiss you the way you knew he could, knew he would if he wanted you like that. And maybe he did want to kiss you, you couldn’t say. But why would he continue to see Steve, bringing him up in nearly every conversation if he wanted you? What would be the point of that?

You were more confused than ever, finding yourself haunted by the scene playing on the TV behind you.

“What’s the matter with me?” Sally exclaimed.

“Nothing,” Harry said softly.

“I’m difficult!”

“You’re challenging,” he countered.

You fell back on the couch, sobbing as you listened to Harry and Sally go back and forth, nearly taunting you with how fucking accurate it was. How fucking accurate everything around you was, from music to movies and back again. 

“No, no, no! I drove him away!”

This was your fault, and now you had to live with those pesky little consequences you hadn’t thought of. You drove Eddie away and now you had no idea how much longer you had before he would fade into a stranger, a fever dream of what once was. And a reminder of what could’ve been.

[matchadobo]

KIDD; toxic ex

summary: a very angry name meeting her ex, eustass kidd, on a wedding. kidd finally having the balls to give her the closure she deserves. wc: 2669 warning/s: toxic ex, stress eating, kidd being vulnerable, lots of anger in the descriptions, afab reader, hurt/comfort, happy ending

you don’t know yourself either why you’re on your nth glass of champagne trying to distract yourself from whatever the fuck is happening a few feet before you. there he was, a tight fucking three piece suit that clad this detestable redhead you call your ex.

he was already distracting enough from his lingering gazes during the wedding itself; you always catch his eye and he wouldn’t break eye contact, he’d smirk cockily at you while that chick called his “date” for killer’s wedding nearly fucked herself on his lap, or how he’d always bump onto you while his girl toy clings onto him like a disturbed koala. he’d always find ways to get under your skin.

just like now, that chick clad in glittery red was slobbering that manwhore’s face while his eyes were directly drilling into you; almost saying hey, look how much i don’t give a fuck about you knowing that he left unfinished and resentful business with you.

“what’s the matter, name?” law snapped a finger before your face, searching for the ‘wrong’ in question on your eyes. “you’ve been quite distracted since we got here.”

“o-oh of course, don’t worry about it.” you brushed him off with a smile. “think i had a little too much champagne.” you chuckled, putting the glass down to calm down a little.

“well, if it makes you feel any better. i’m on my second bottle already.” your date’s attempt at leading you on some random bullshit he’s cooking was surprisingly successful, he was pretty funny in a way that his sarcasm mirrored the deadness in his eyes.

in your oblivious state, kidd was awfully pissed at how that stale doctor clad in a boring suit of blue had you smiling, laughing, and hitting his shoulders like that. he had you completely under his spell earlier. he was fuming when he saw how you clung onto his tattoed arm or how he lulled you by those dull eyes. if only that bastard of a surgeon didn’t butt in, he would’ve had you running to him right now. it’s the only reason why he’s putting up with this insatiable bimbo that brushed his ego too much.

he wanted you to feel so much resentment, he wanted you to feel that acidic bile rush up your throat just like how he’s feeling right now when you won’t even bat an eye at him, he wanted you to feel hot and angry, he wanted you to crawl right back at him. because come on, he’s not gonna do that himself despite how badly he yearns for you. he wants you, he misses you so much he would do anything to try and catch your attention. just like how he’s stomaching how noxious this blond’s perfume is. he wanted to smell your perfume once more, to have you in his arms and not this nuisance.

so kidd tried advancing his plan, he led his date to somewhere only you would see, a place where it perfectly aligns your line of sight. he made sure to have an arm around her as he walks by you, bumping on your table intentionally and apologizing like a jackass afterward while his bimbo rolls her eyes at you. you’ve decided to smile bitterly and let it slide.

you knew what he was trying to do; pinning that chick up the wall, brushing his fingers by her arms, waist, down to her legs, and violently shoving his tongue down her throat. you felt your eyes burn at what you just witnessed. your throat started going dry, maybe that’s the reason why your first instinct was to grab the entire bottle of champagne you and your date was sharing and proceeded to excuse yourself from that circus.

you went to the buffet area, chugging down that champagne bottle forcibly. not too long after all reason and sanity gradually faded away from your consciousness. and now, you feel better than ever. you lost track of time and found yourself grubbing on the foods everybody was too full to snack on, dancing on the dancefloor in a way that would strip everyone off of the respect they initially had in you, and singing shamelessly in the karaoke.

killer and your best friend had tried stopping you but guests are alreadu dispersing since it’s already midnight and they knew how that redhead fucked you up. for kidd though, this was truly heartbreaking to watch. he knew the pain he had caused but… he still let his pride weigh in than to help you.

“look here,” your friend called out to kidd. “i’m the bride and this is my wedding. you are basically under my command. so why don’t you pick your shriveled up balls, remember your manners my best friend taught you, and help that poor woman you left, you detestable manbitch!”

“sweetie, he’s… got issues.” killer tried calming her down, rubbing her shoulders.

“but that’s no excuse to not deal with the mess he made!” she stomped on the floor. “she did not only play my best friend but also this poor chick that got blacked out drunk!”

“alright, i fuckin’ heard you loud and clear.” he waved his hands in an attempt to dismiss her, a scowl on his face. “i’m not promisin’ anythin’ to turn pretty though.”

if it weren’t for killer’s hand on his bride’s shoulder, kidd would’ve been pummeled to the ground by now.

he made his way to you by the buffet area that was almost empty, saddened by your depressing state. “if it weren’t for the slut of a man who only made out with someone he doesn’t even know at his best friend’s wedding!” you sarcastically nudged him in the arm.

“you’re quite the show tonight, doll. reminds me of how chaotic we met.” he towered over you, hands in his pockets. “mind stopping any time now?”

“what right do you have to tell me that? got bored with your plaything?” you snorted, grabbing more tacos and stuffing them in your mouth.

“i see you haven’t lost your habit to stress eat.” he gestured the buffet waiters to take away the trays before you got to them.

“get the hell off my face before i kill you with whatever i have.” you dismissed, finally facing him and glaring at him. “go have your knob slobbered or something, you’re making my food go bad.”

he sucked in a breath of disbelief. “alright, look.” he snatched the plate away from you, raising the plate higher so you wouldn’t reach it. “they sent me here to stop you, not get criticized by you. what makes you think i voluntarily did this, huh?”

he kept pulling the plate away and you continued on your struggle to reach it. “fucking give me that! i don’t care! i don’t even understand what you’re talking abo-” and just like that, you two fell on the floor tangled on each other’s limbs while the food had embarrassingly coated you two.

“look what you did!” you two said in unison.

the bastard still found it in him to cock a smirk, place a hand on your waist and say, “the last time we were in this position it wasn’t food that coated us.”

you immediately flushed beet red from your ears to your face, his dress shirt’s three unbuttoned buttons as your face was buried on his chest certainly did not help in getting rid of the hotness you are feeling. you continuously hit him until he let go of you and you pulled yourself up before rushing to the bathroom with tears in your eyes.

killer and his bride stared at him with utter disappointment. he shrugged his shoulders and said, “i stopped her from stress eating, right?”

“you were supposed to fix up things with her, you bonehead!” she flicked kidd’s forehead. “get your ass back up because YOU have made another mess you have yet to clean up.”

kidd knocked at the ladies’ room, faintly hearing your sobs that twinged at his heart. he stopped knocking when he heard your dismissals, you thought he had finally left from the silence and had resumed to cry.

after half an hour of calming yourself down, you finally decided to leave the room. only to find kidd sitting on the floor beside the door of the ladies’ room, clutching a bottle of scotch. he glanced up at you, waving the bottle as an invitation.

“what makes you think i’ll say yes?” your voice was heavy with tears and snot.

“let’s just say hearing you cry did a lot of things than break my heart and i want to make it up to you.”

“and how do you plan on doing that? i’m not staying as much as a meter from you.”

“‘s what i thought.” he picked you up by your bum and carried you like a sack of potatoes. “this is the closest i’ll ever be to having a chance to talk to you without you walking out on me, i’m not missing any chances.”

“put me down, you fuckhead!” you drummed at his back, repeatedly pounding on his sturdy back and pulling on his hair. until you soon got tired and gave up, giving into the alcohol that soon took over most of you.

he took you to his car, fastening your seatbelt and taking in your beauty as you dozed off. he resisted the urge to kiss you, to touch you. it almost feels illegal to stare at you and be this close to you when he has inflicted a kind of pain that lasted like a lifetime to you. he drove towards your apartment, route still memorized as if it’s engraved in his soul. he then gently shook you awake once he got there.

“hey, hey, get yourself home now.” he tapped on your shoulder. “there goes my chance to talk.”

“why the hell am i in the same car as you?” you furrowed your brows, looking around and realizing what just happened.

“i was hoping to take you somewhere to talk, but you fell asleep when i sat you down here so… i took you to your house.” you could hear the stiffness in his speech, like he was holding something back. “so go, you must be tired.”

“why did you do this? you could’ve just left me there, like you always do. killer and my friend would’ve taken care of me.” you clicked your tongue, resting your chin on your hand that rested on the door.

“because i can’t leave you again.” he said in a low tone that almost exploded into something catastrophic. “i don’t know if i could make it to the next fuckin’ day without you.”

“that’s funny because earlier you looked like you were having the time of your life with that chick who clung onto you like you’ve got a finger up her ass.” you huffed an annoyed breath as something under your skin got more and more uncomfortable. “now you want me to come back?! those months where we broke up are still not enough for you to wake the fuck up and sort your goddamn emotions?!”

kidd bit his lip hard, trying to swallow all the tears that stung on his eyes. he was silent for a while, the silence rang in his ears as your words echoed in his head. “i…was at my best when we were together.” he started, not having the balls to stare at you. “i drank less, i ate more, i laughed more, i cried more, i…loved more. as much as i try to deny everything about you, yo-you’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” he paused to swallow before a single tear fell on his lap “point is, you were so fuckin’ good for me i…don’t deserve you- no, more like, you don’t deserve a shitsack like me.” he scoffed, sniffing and gazing out his window. “but i know that’s not a goddamn excuse for all the assholery i did tonight, and all the ones before.” he finally gazed at you, eyeliner running down the corners of his eye as his lips shuddered under his teeth. “so, i won’t ever… cross your way again. i’ll stay away for good. because you deserve that, name.”

his nose was red and runny and his eyes were glassy. he wiped his nose and got out the car, getting some air. that’s the most in months that he got vulnerable after you two parted.

you couldn’t explain the thumping in your chest, the stinging in your eyes, and the wetness on your cheeks. why were you feeling sorry for this jackass? why did you want to hug him when he said all that? why does your heart feel like it’s on the verge of exploding? why does he still make you lose your fucking mind even when you two are not together anymore?

drunk on the residual champagne and rush of emotions, you also got out of the car and circled around it to meet him on the other side. you stood before him, waiting for him to look at you but he refused to. “look at me, kidd.” you said it multiple times but he still wouldn’t. so you took his face in your hands and pulled him closer.

“that’s all i ever wanted from you, eustass.” your gaze alternated between his muddy eyes. “i wanted to hear how much ‘we’ mean to you, how much you changed because of ‘us’.” you smiled, heavy tears finally streaming down your face. “i wanted to see you face your emotions, i wanted to see you stop denying everything ‘weak’ about you.” you stroked his cheeks, pulling him closer by his neck to hug him. ignoring his genuinely shocked expression that you so much as even get a feet closer to him voluntarily, he still couldn’t process the fact that you intentionally hugged him. he stiffly stood up while you did so. eyes and mouth agape as your perfume inebriated him even more.

the only thing clear to him right now was the numerous cars passing by that almost hit you, his hands reflexively landed on the small of your back to pull you closer. a little whimper escaped your lips from the sudden grip, his metallic cologne making your heart beat twice as fast. “o-oh shit, sorr-” he was about to let go of his grip on you but you held his arms in place.

“don’t ruin it.” you firmly commanded, hugging him tighter by his neck as he did the same on your waist.

you two stayed like that for a while, until no cars were now passing by. you finally let go and he did too, the absence of his touch on your skin left you feeling empty. “it’s late.” you brought up, clearing your throat.

“yeah.” he responded awkwardly, leaning by his car to lower himself to your height. “get your ass home, the dew might get you sick.”

“that part of you still hasn’t changed, i guess.” you laughed bitterly.

“and for the fact that i’m madly fuckin’ in love with you. unfortunately, things’ll change for sure.” once he realizes what he just said, he blushed from his ears across his face. apologizing profusely but you brushed him off. you then strolled to your front door.

“well i suggest you make it up to me, do better. let’s have that change be something positive, yeah?” you followed up, gazing over your shoulder. he had a look of disbelief on his face, not sure if he heard you right. truly doubting that you’re giving him a second chance. something about him made you want to try again with him.

you then bid him good night, telling him to be careful on the way back to his home. that night, you two stayed up video calling each other. catching up, teasing each other, and talking about your differences and the closures you two badly needed.

this has been in the drafts for a while. is this too toxic tho? omg?

[exocynraku]

riverstars home spoilers below /// (NOT under cut, 7 images) .

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new cats part 4

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riverstars home spoilers above /// (NOT under cut, 7 images)