#you gotta remember he really just wanted to get out of that book as well

[youmustfixyourheartt]

fucked up what happened to mike crew.

[athenamikaelson]

Klaus Mikaelson x Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Pt. 20

Word Count- 3.8k

Warnings- Swearing, injury, stick, Theo, Klaus, Theo and Klaus

“We’re going to go meet Bonnie’s birth mother. Want to join us?”

I blow out a low breath as Elena tells me her day plans over the phone. I ponder her question momentarily and then glance at Theo, who is currently curled into a sad ball on my bed.

“I would but…I’m on Theo watch duty. Gotta make sure he doesn’t have another mental breakdown,” I whisper the last part into the phone but Theo must’ve heard because I hear him mutter “bitch” at me.

“Yikes… How’s he doing,” Elena asks wearily.

I blow out another breath as Theo wails loudly, “You hear that?”

“Oh… definite yikes. Well, call us if you need anything ok? And, please stay inside, or don’t go anywhere near Stefan.”

I huff, “Ya trust me, I’m staying as far away from that bastard as I can.”

“You talking about Stefan,” I hear Theo growl out and I shush him.

“Tell Bonnie I’ll kick her mother’s ass if things go south,” I say into the phone and Elena’s voice gets muffled as she says something to someone near her.

“Bonnie says she will and she appreciates it,” Elena laughs.

We then say our goodbyes and I hang up the phone and remember the elephant in the room. 

“You’ve really got to move on dude. It’s not like he’s dead,” I sit down on the edge of my bed and my brother sits up and glares at me. He’s wrapped up in a fluffy pink blanket so his glare is more pathetic than scary.

“Mind yourself, woman,” He bites, “What if your Gilbert left you?”

I begin to roll my eyes at him but stop and frown. 

“SEE! You’d be in my position if your book buddy left you! So don’t come bitching at me because my SOULMATE left me,” He cries out and I let out a long breath.

“Can’t you have your mid-life crisis in your room?”

“The internet says you're not supposed to be alone in times of mourning,” He quickly responds.

“Ya well,” I rub my forehead, “You're giving me a fucking migraine.”

At the mention of my head, Theo frowns and leans closer to me inspecting my head, “How is your head? I swear to God as soon as I get my hands on that stupid bitchass motherfucking vampire imma kill him.”

I smile softly at him and sit back, “I’m fine now. And promise me if you see Stefan you will run the other way,” I say trying to hide the slight fear in my voice. 

“Y/n he hurt you, I’m not going to just-”

“Theo! Please! Do you see how you are acting because Jeremy left you? If something were to happen to you…I’d be one hundred times worse than this. I couldn’t live in a world where you didn’t exist, alright? And Stefan he’s… not himself right now. He doesn't care about me and he definitely doesn’t care about you. So, promise me you’ll stay away from him.”

Theo nods and grabs my shoulders, bringing me in for a hug, “I’d lose my shit too if you weren’t here. That’s why it sucks I can’t defend you. Seeing you in the condition you were the other night was horrible.”

I think back to when Klaus dropped me off, and Theo was right at the front door to see it and also see the absolute wreck I was. 

“I know and I’m sorry you had to see that,” I apologize. 

Theo shakes his head, “You have nothing to apologize for,” Theo stops talking and then side-eyes me, “Also… would you like to explain to me why exactly Klaus, the Original hybrid, was on our front porch dropping you off?”

“Well…”

Flashback

The dark forest flies by me as Klaus drives down the dark road towards my house. An awkward silence fills Klaus’ expensive SUV as I stare at my fingers that are resting in my lap. You would think for someone who loves to hear himself talk so much he’d be yapping away but after he practically carried me to the car, and placed me into my seat, he hasn’t said a word.  

After another moment I let out a sigh, “You didn’t have to take me home…I could’ve rode with Alastair.”

Klaus doesn’t move his eyes away from the road, “With Alastair’s track record of making sure you come to no harm…I decided I should start taking things into my own hands.”

I frown, “So what? You’re going to start stalking me now?”

Even in this poorly lit car, I can’t miss the small smirk on his face, “Hypothetically.”

“Great,” I say sarcastically.

Everything is silent for a moment until a car with its high beams on drives by us and I wince and let out a gasp of pain at the intrusion of light on my already pounding head. 

“Here,” I hear Klaus’ voice and a biting sound and have to fight the urge to puke again when I see him bite into his wrist.

“Hell no,” I shake my head, “I’ll live with the headache.”

Klaus pretty much growls, “Sorry to burst your bubble, Princess. But, that little headache of yours is most likely a concussion. And I can’t have you falling asleep tonight and not waking up because of it. So just drink.”

I shake my head defiantly and watch his wrist heal itself, “I’ll live.”

Klaus turns and glares at me and if I was in a better state I would glare right back at the bitch but I’m so worn down that I just stare back at him. Klaus’ glare drops when he sees I’m not glaring back at him.

“Y/n, just drink…”

“What’s a mate?”

The car swerves and I quickly grab the closest thing to me which happens to be Klaus’ hand that is lying on the center console. Images of Stefan and the bridge flash in my mind and I feel like I’m on the verge of a panic attack. Or dying. I could definitely be dying too. 

“Y/n! Y/n focus on me,” I hear Klaus’ voice in my head but I can’t seem to focus on anything or stop the panic attack that is building.

“Fuck it,” Is all I hear before the air is being taken out of my lungs and my face is being squished by Klaus’ large hands. It takes me a moment to register why I feel a pressure on my mouth but when I open my eyes and see Klaus’ face before mine I realize…Klaus is kissing me. Klaus whatever his last name is, is fucking kissing me. His lips are on my lips at this very moment. Holy shit. 

I know I should push him off me but I’m going to blame it on my lack of consciousness right now because I’m leaning into him. I’m kissing him back. 

Klaus pulls away from me a moment later and I stare at him wide-eyed. I bring my shaking hand up to my lips and trace my bottom lip with my finger, trying not to think about how right it felt to be that close to him. 

“I’m sorry,  I shouldn’t have done that,” Klaus’ voice pulls me out of my stupor.

“Then…why did you?”

Klaus leans back and it seems like he’s trying to make as much distance between him and me as he possibly can, which sends a stabbing pain to my chest.

“You were having a panic attack. What I’ve learned over the years is that holding your breath will stop it.”

At Klaus’ reason, a wave of embarrassment flows through me. I can’t figure out why but, a sense of rejection fills me as well.

“Oh,” I softly say, “I’m sorry.”

I can feel Klaus’ stare as I look back down to my hands. 

“Why are you apologizing?”

I shrug, “For freaking out. And for making you,” I point to my lips embarrassingly, “Y’know.”

A bigger wave of embarrassment runs through me at the sound of Klaus’ laugh. 

“Trust me, Princess,” Klaus tugs on the end of my hair lightly to gain my attention, “Kissing you is the opposite of sorrowful.”

I look at Klaus’ who has a mix of a smirk and a smile on his face and I nod quickly before looking away, feeling a warmth build throughout me. 

I notice now that we’ve pulled off to the side of the road. 

“We can go now. I’m okay,” I gesture to the road ahead and try to catch a glimpse of Klaus out of the corner of my eye but he’s still staring at me. 

“Not until you let me heal you.”

I shake my head, “You vampires keep trying to get me to drink your blood and it’s weird.”

Klaus’ eyes darken, “What other vampires?”

I shrug, “Just like Damon, and,” I pause, “Your brother.”

“You’ve drank Elijah’s blood but you won’t drink mine?”

Klaus’ harsh voice bites at me and I flinch back in my seat. 

Klaus’ glare instantly drops as he runs a hand over his face, “You have no reason to flinch around me. I’d never… I’d never do anything like that to you.”

I frown at the man who has uprooted and ruined my friends’ lives over the past 4 months and shake my head, “Are you serious?!”

Klaus stares at me for a moment before leaning back in his seat again, “I’ve never laid a hand on you or your brother.”

At the mention of Theo I stiffen, “How do you know about him?”

Klaus looks at me with an “Are you serious” look.

“Alastair,” I say knowingly and growled.

“He’s not the best at protecting but he is great at getting information.”

I pause for a moment and then glare at him, “If you ever try anything against Theo, I swear to whatever Gods are out there I will-”

“Slow it, Princess,” Klaus raises a hand stopping me, “Your brother has nothing to fear from me. Hurting him is hurting you.”

“Why is not hurting me of importance to you? Because of what Stefan said in the car? We’re mates?”

My question has Klaus leaning forward and starting the car again.

“Seriously,” I exhale at him and he doesn’t spare me a glance.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I go to rub my hands over my face but Klaus’ hand grabs mine stopping me.

“You’re going to hit your wound. Put your hand down.”

“Why can’t I ever just know the truth? I’m so sick and tired of everyone hiding things from me like I’m so fucking kid! I haven’t been a kid in years and I can handle a lot more than you fuckers think I can.”

Klaus watches me for a moment and then shakes his head, “I don’t think you understand.”

“No, I understand you perfectly! I understand you’re just like the rest of them!”

“Y/n. Listen to me,” Klaus leans back over to me so my full attention is on him, “First of all, I’m nothing like anyone that you’ve ever met before, so don’t insult me. Second, I don’t think you’re a child. I can see it in your eyes, that look that mirrors my own. You and I are the same, Astin Min. And third, it’s not you that can’t handle it. It’s me.”

I stare at Klaus and he stares back at me. 

“Why can’t you?”

Klaus runs his tongue over his teeth before letting out a sigh.

“Question for question,” He shakes his head slightly, “Correction. Question for a favor.”

I narrow my eyes at him and frown, “What kind of favor?”

Klaus smirks, “You drink my blood. I’ll answer your question.”

I groan as I stare at him. The idea of drinking his blood disgusts me but staying in the dark pisses me off.

“Fine. Let’s get the over with,” I lean over the console toward him and open my mouth. 

Klaus seems to be almost surprised by my agreement as his eyebrows slightly raise. His eyes go towards my open mouth and for a moment in the dark car, I could swear a hint of red tints on his cheeks. But before I can stare too long Klaus bites into his wrist and presses it to my mouth. I think I’m about to vomit when the warm liquid hits my tongue but instead, I groan at the delicious taste. Embarrassment has me quickly pulling away and wiping my lips. 

Klaus on the other hand is smirking like the fucking devil he is, “It’s better than Elijah’s, isn’t it.”

I glare at him, “I’m going to swing on you.”

Klaus releases a hearty laugh and I feel my upper lip twitch at the sound. 

“It’s your turn Jackass,” I cut his laughing off and he rolls his eyes. 

Klaus puts the car in drive and for a moment I think he’s going to back out of our deal but then he clears his throat. 

“I’ve gone a thousand years without a weakness, Y/n. A thousand years with no one having any leverage over me, other than my father.,” He pauses at the mention of Mikael, “You threaten that. A thousand years, and now my biggest threat is an 18-year-old girl.”

He bitterly laughs out the last part as if he can’t believe it’s true.

“I’m no threat to you. You’re the great big bad hybrid. I can’t even run up a flight of stairs without getting winded. How could I ever harm you?”

Klaus turns to me and his eyes go towards my wounded head before turning back towards the road.

“You have no idea.”

—

“I’m not even going to ask how you knew how to get to my house without me telling you,” I say as I go to open my car door but Klaus speeds over to my side and opens it for me. 

Maybe he and Elijah are related.

“You can ask, I can’t promise you’ll like the answer,” Klaus says as he helps me out of the car. 

I get out and try to walk on my own but a wave of tiredness flows through me and I feel my knees buckle. Thankfully, I feel Klaus’ arm wrap around my waist to keep me up.

“What the hell?!”

Theo’s screeching voice has me cringing in pain and I can hear Klaus growl from beside me. 

I open my eyes to see Theo running out of the front door and down the steps to me, wrapped in my fucking comforter. 

“Unhand her you bitch,” Theo yells and points his finger at Klaus who looks entirely unimpressed with my younger brother’s antics.

“Theo, chill the fuck out and go back inside. I’ll be in in a moment,” I try to wave my brother away but he shushes me and grabs me out of Klaus’ arms. 

“What kind of brother and manly protector would I be if I left you alone with this,” Theo glares at Klaus, who still has a hand on the bottom of my elbow, “thing.”

Klaus’ eyes go from my brother’s face to the giant lavender blanket wrapped around him, “I would insult you, but I know about your lack of male figures in your life. So this,” He gestures to the blanket, “Is not your fault. It appears your sister has just raised herself a sister.”

I swallow a laugh as Theo looks like he’s about to internally combust. He lets go of me and if it weren’t for Klaus’ hand on my elbow I probably would have fallen. Klaus narrows his eyes at my brother because of his actions.

“Who the fuck do you think you are,” Theo puts his fists up and I laugh at the amount of stupidness.

I look over to Klaus who’s standing next to me and he meets my eyes for a moment and then rolls his own.

“Klaus.”

“Well listen here Klau-”

Theo stops. 

“Wait,” Theo’s eyes go from wide to wider as his mouth drops open when he realizes who he just tried fist fighting. Theo slowly drops his fists, “Did you just say Klaus?”

Klaus seems to be beside himself for getting this kind of reaction out of my brother and I glare at him, “The one and only.”

Theo stares wide-eyed at the Original for a moment before turning around towards our lawn. I think he’s going to make a run for it but he quickly leans down and then turns back. I watch in awe as he throws a fucking stick at Klaus, bonking the hybrid right in his pretty face. 

“Quick, sister,” Theo yells as I feel him rip me out of Klaus’ arms and starts to drag me up the stairs. 

“Theo! Hold the fuck on, you dumbass,” I pull away from my brother as we make it to the porch and he stares at me like I’ve grown two heads. 

“What the fuck are you doing?!?!?”

“He’s not going to hurt us,” I tell my brother, “Or at least he wasn’t until you threw a fucking twig at his head.”

I look down at where Klaus is standing. I try to fight it but a loud laugh escapes my lips when I see him glaring up at us with the small twig breaking in his left hand. 

“Luv, I know I made a promise about not hurting him, but I think I might have to break that,” He bites out and I instantly stiffen and move in front of my little brother.

“You’ll have to kill me first,” I threaten him and we glare back at each other.

“This sexual tension is freaking me out,” Theo’s voice takes my focus away from Klaus as I turn to glare at my brother instead. 

“Shut up, Theo!”

“Oh, let the boy continue,” Klaus snarkily says and I turn back to glare at him. Thankfully the dark look from before has vanished and is now replaced by his usual smirk. 

I feel Theo’s hand tug on mine and I squeeze his. Theo talks a tough game but I can feel the shaking coming from his hand. 

“He hurt you Y/n,” Theo whispers to me as he stares wearily at my bloody head.

“Did not,” Klaus retorts.

Theo turns his attention back to the Original, “Did too!”

“Did no-”

“Jesus Christ stop you two,” I groan and rub my temple with my free hand, “Theo it was Stefan who hurt me. Klaus actually…helped me. I guess.”

I turn to see my brother’s confused face and can hear Klaus mutter “She guesses” under his breath. 

“Stefan did this to you,” Theo questions, and as I nod his weary look turns to one of anger, “Fine. Then grab that stick we’re going to go stab Stefan instead.”

Theo begins to walk back down the steps and Klaus raises the stick up for him to take.

“I’ll join you, mate.”

I pull my brother back with a huff, “Theo go back inside. Now.”

Theo goes to argue but I glare at him.  With one last huff and an “I’m watching you” gesture to Klaus, he walks back inside. But I can see the living room curtain push open slightly so I know he’s still watching. 

“You two are definitely related,” Klaus growls as he looks up at me. 

“Sadly,” I respond. 

Klaus and I stand there for another moment just watching each other and I feel my face warm up. 

“Well…um. Thank I guess,” I say awkwardly and turn to the front door.

“Y/n,” Klaus’ voice has me stopping and turning over my shoulder to look at him. He looks like he’s about to say something else but then clears his throat. 

“Good night.”

—-

“YOU KISSED HIM?!?!?”

I roll my eyes as Theo stares wide-eyed at me. 

“Technically, he kissed me,” I respond and Theo shakes his head.

“Nuh-uh you kissed him back,” He says and looks at me like I just committed the worst sin imaginable.

I look down at my hands as a wave of shame washes through me. 

“You can’t tell anyone, Theo. Seriously. Not Jeremy, or Elena, or anyone,” I look at my brother worried.

Theo narrows his eyes, “Why not?”

I give him an “Are you serious” look.

Theo thinks for a moment and then nods, “Oh, ya. Crazy Pyshco that killed your best friend and is harassing all your friends now. Ya, secrets safe with me.”

I grab Theo’s hand, “Theo, I’m serious.”

Theo squeezes my hand, “I promise. Sibling pact and shit….Also,” Theo smirks, “Was it good?”

I frown, confused, “Was what good?”

“The kiss,” Theo smirks evilly.

I smile sweetly at my brother and then hit him upside the head with my hand.

“Ow, woman. Don’t be putting your filthy hands on my precious hair.”

“Your greasy hair,” I say back and he stares at me in shock.

“How dare you! It is not greasy,” He tries to fight back but when I raise an eyebrow at him he quickly stands up and runs to my mirror. The screech that leaves his mouth as he stares into the mirror has me rolling my eyes. 

Theo quickly drops my blanket on the floor and runs out of the room. Not even 2 minutes later I hear the water from the shower turn on. I quickly stand up, shut my door, and then lock it. 

—-

“Wait, so that means I can’t fist-fight Bonnie’s mother,” I ask Elena.

Elena called me as soon as she got home from her trip with Bonnie to meet Bonnie’s mother. I guess Bonnie’s mother ended up losing her magic when she did a spell to desecrate Mikael 16 years ago but is willing to try to get her magic back to help her daughter open the unopenable coffin or some shit. There’s so much going on in this town that everything’s starting to mesh together. 

“No…I mean at least not right now,” Elena jokes and I huff.

“Fine. But if she hurts Bonnie I’m throwing my fist right into her throat,” I pretend to jab the air as I put the phone in between my shoulder and ear.

“Are you fighting the air right now,” Elena asks and I stop.

“No….”

Elena laughs, “Well, if you do need to fight her I’ll be there rooting for you.”

I smile, “Thanks, I appreciate it,” I pull up my towel that is wrapped around my body. 

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay,” I tell Elena and she agrees and I hang up the phone. 

My still-wet hair leaves shivers on my body as I open my bedroom door and walk inside. But when my Y/E/C eyes meet brown eyes I stop.

“Hello, Elskan. I think you and I are long overdue for a chat.”

[lailols]

Cockwarming with TXT

MDNI!

Unprotected sex, kinda dom txt x sub f!reader, breeding kink in jun’s

____________________________________________

Soobin

You guys are having the self-care night that you do every so often. You haven’t seen each other in a while, so you pull out all the bells and whistles. There’s music playing softly as you help each other relax and refresh so lovingly. You gave each other mani-pedis and he even helped you shave.:(

He helped apply your face mask and you crawl onto his lap to help put his on. His hands immediately crawl under your (his) shirt to rest his hands on your hips. Everything’s fine until he tightens his grip and pulls you impossibly closer to him.

“I can’t apply your face mask like this.” You giggle into his chest. “I’m also going to get face mask goo on your shirt if you don’t let me go.”

“I just want to be close to you.” He mumbles and even though you can’t see it, you know he’s pouting.

“I don’t think we can get any closer than we already are.” You place your hands on his shoulders to push yourself back a bit. His hands drift down to your butt tapping twice.

“We could….” He trails off, hoping you get the hint.

“Bin, this is self-care night! A sacred tradition that cannot be paused for sex!” You scold him playfully while repositioning yourself to finish fixing his mask.

“We don’t have to do anything! Just want to be inside you.” He tightens his hold and shifts you onto him. You can already feel him growing hard.

“You promise not to move until we finish?” You say already not believing him. “You’re sure you can handle it?”

“Oh, I can handle it alright.” He scoffs. “Can you?”

“Okay, let’s do it.”

Soobin makes quick work of sliding down your panties and opening you up for him. Slipping down his shorts and boxers and easily lifting you to position himself.

As he slides home, you both release a sigh. You close your eyes to adjust and calm yourself. Your walls flutter around him, pulling him in further, further.

“Well, I can’t not move if you’re going to attempt to milk me.”

“I’m not trying to!” You hit his shoulder. “I’m sorry I’m not immune to a monster trying to rip me apart.”

“A monster?” He smirks. “You flatter me.”

“Yeah, yeah, hush so I can finish your face mask.”

He does hush and let you finish your work. After that, you each take turns applying a lip scrub. While wiping his off, you see his lips looking so pink and pouty. You can’t help but lean in closer for a peck.

Well…. It was meant to be a peck. You’re not sure who did it, but one of you decided it was meant to be a deep kiss. Soobin makes quick work of sliding his tongue into your mouth and mapping out the already familiar space. You clench around his dick and at that point, can you really blame him for thrusting up?

You both let out moans and… well…. You know what happens next

“You liar!”

“You started it!”

“I did not! I just wanted to kiss you!”

“And what am I supposed to do? NOT fuck you after that? Be serious.”

Yeonjun

When you told Yeonjun he didn’t need to use a condom because you’ve been on the pill for a few months, you didn’t expect him to turn into an omega in heat.

You didn’t expect him to fuck you six ways to Sunday and then some. He’s put you in every position in the book and even added a few you didn’t know existed and it doesn’t seem like he’s going to stop anytime soon.

Right now he’s got you in a classic mating press and his dancer hips are putting in work. You can barely remember your own name and the only sounds leaving you are broken moans. Tears are falling from your eyes but Jun just kisses them away.

“It’s okay, baby.” He pants out. “I’m almost done, just gotta make sure it takes.”

“Huh?”

“Gotta fill you up, okay? Gotta get you pregnant.” And with that, he’s back to thrusting so hard you’re shifting on the bed. And oh, that was kinda hot? It doesn’t even make sense but he said it as if he believed it.

When he’s done (for the time being), he just flips your position and has you rest on top of him with his cock still inside. You go to pull away, but he locks his arms around your waist.

“Stay.” He says with such conviction. “We’re gonna go again in a bit.”

“Jun, I don’t even remember what day it is, what do you mean go again?”

“I already told you what the goal of today is.” Is all he says in reply, pulling you into a soft kiss.

Neither of you can stay still very long with his quickly hardening cock inside of you, so it's no surprise that you start again soon.

Beomgyu

It was originally a bet. Beomgyu wanted to test if he’d be able to focus more on the game with you warming him, and you pointed out how he can’t even handle getting under the desk support. Being the person that he is, he took this as a challenge, and that led you to now.

You’re fully naked, warming his cock while he’s only in a shirt. Headphones on, and pushed as close to the desk as possible so he can reach the keyboard with ease. It sounds like he’s doing fairly well and if it wasn’t for the way he clenched his teeth anytime he wasn’t yelling at his teammates, you’d think he was completely unaffected.

That’s all fine and good, but what about you? You’re bored. You don’t have your phone and you can’t even see the screen. You can only alternate between looking at your bed or Beomgyu’s face/neck.

Really, he can’t blame you for finding a way to entertain yourself, can he? You start small, leaning into the crook of his neck and leaving quick kisses, running your hands up his chest. His arms tighten on your sides, but he doesn’t really react outside of that.

You then move to licking and sucking lightly. Not enough to leave marks, but enough for him to feel it. Once you do that, one of his hands leaves the keyboard to mute his mic and the other finds your waist.

“Be good, and let me finish.” He says tilting his head down to make eye contact with you. “I’ll play with you after, okay baby?”

“I’m not even doing anything.” You pout up at him. “I can’t see the screen and you’re yapping my ears off.”

“Hmm.” He pouts down at you. “And whose fault is that, huh? Keep those pretty lips and hands to yourself and I’ll make it up to you after this game okay?”

“But-“ You’re cut off by one of his teammates yelling at him to move already. Beomgyu fixes you with a look, unmutes his mic, and quickly focuses on his game again.

You figure that since he doesn’t want you to touch him, you’ll just touch yourself. You lean your head back on his shoulder and slide one of your hands between your bodies to rest on your clit. You rub it softly at first and let out a sigh.

The stimulation makes you clench around Beomgyu and he tries to look at you but you don’t move. After a few seconds, he just goes back to the game. Gradually speeding up your movements, you bite your lip to keep your noise down. Your other hand rests on his other shoulder to ground yourself.

It feels, surprisingly, good. Good enough that you’re pretty sure you could come from this alone. You’re so caught up in your pleasure that you don’t realize that Beomgyu hasn’t spoken in a while, you also haven’t heard the keyboard either. The only sounds in the room are your soft sighs and the wet sounds of your pussy (if you realized, you’d probably be mortified).

Just when you’re on the edge of your release, Beomgyu grabs your waist and pulls you completely off of him.

“Why’d you do that?” You ask around a gasp.

“If I knew you’d be such a slut, I wouldn’t have asked you to warm me while I game.” Is his bored reply. “If I hadn’t left the game, everyone would’ve heard you being a needy whore.”

You promptly look away from him.

“Oh, so now you have some shame? I told you I’d make you feel good if you let me finish, but you always need to get what you want, huh?” He pushes you onto the desk and stands. “I can never be nice to you. You always have to be a little brat, huh? Where’s my good girl?

“I am good!” You protest. “I was just bored.”

Yeah, the defense sounds weak even to you.

“Yeah? Well now you’ve got my attention and you’re not gonna like it.” Beomgyu promises with a cruel smile.

Taehyun

You don’t remember who suggested you cockwarm Tae while he writes lyrics, but you think they’re very smart (that alone leads you to believe it was him, but semantics). It’s just another form of quality time between the two of you, but so much more than that at the same time.

You’re resting on your elbows scrolling on your phone while he’s being kneeling behind you (bless his body) as he works. His lyric book is quite literally on your ass so he has a space to work but it’s fine. You can totally do this all the time. If you stumble upon a really good video, you can almost forget he’s inside you completely.

Or, at least your mind can. Your body, on the other hand, cannot. Tae feels you dripping on his knees and the bed. He can feel your walls fluttering around him every so often. And really, what kind of boyfriend would he be if he just let his pretty girl suffer?

Even if you don’t know it yourself, your body is telling him that you need him. He has to do something. And really, he’s been working for nearly an hour, that’s enough time. You’ve been so good for him, it’s time to give you what you need.

He tosses his book onto the floor and pulls you up onto your knees, startling you.

“Tae-?” You can even finish until he’s leaning over to hook his head over your shoulder, reaching so so far into you.

“Shhh baby,” he says sweetly, placing a kiss on your cheek. “I’ve got you. You’ve been so good for me even though you needed me so bad. Let me make it better, hm?”

And now that he mentions it, you’re aware of just how wet everything is. How nice and heavy he feels inside you. How if he doesn’t fuck you in the next few minutes you just might die.

And fuck you he does. He has to reward his baby for waiting so patiently.

Kai

“So, we just… stay like this?” Kai asks from behind you with one of his hands hovering unsure above your naked hip.

“Yeah! And we watch the show!” You say pointing to the anime playing on the tv.

You see, you wanted to try cockwarming while watching anime. It would take a time when you and Kai relax together and make it even more relaxing!

Sadly for Kai, the absolute last thing he feels right now is relaxed. He really doesn’t want to move, but it’s just- it’s hard okay? He has his pretty girlfriend naked and pressed against him. His cock is snug between your walls and it feels good. Of course, it feels good, but it could be better, right?

It wouldn’t even just feel better for him, it would feel better for you too. He waits for a bit to gauge how you’re doing, and it seems like you’re content to remain like this for the show. Kai doesn’t think he can handle that- actually, he knows he can’t.

He starts shifting a bit. Trying to find a comfortable position, until he just decides to just thrust shallowly. It’ll be subtle, right? He could pass it off as finding a good position, right?

With that in mind, he takes a tighter grip on your hip and pulls out just the slightest bit before going back in. And fuck, even just that is leagues better than staying still. You don’t even seem to have realized.

He continues on like that and, oh, has it always been this hard to stay quiet? Maybe it’s the nature of what he’s doing, using you like this while you’re content to watch the show. Is this a kink? It definitely feels kinky. Whatever, he’ll think about it more when he isn’t trying to chase an orgasm.

On your end, you’re thanking every god you can think of that Kai needs you just as much as you need him. From the second he slid inside you, you knew you were done for. So when he started thrusting, you could’ve cried from happiness. As you feel Kai push you nearly to the edge, you grab his hand and move it down to your nub to help you along the way.

“Sorry!” His mouth says, but his body grows more brazen. Now that the facade is gone, he doesn’t have to hold back, right? He can just focus on making you feel good. And he does exactly that. Thrusting harder and rubbing your clit, to push you over the edge.

After letting you ride out your high, he pulls out and flips you onto your back. Not even hesitating to enter you again. It’s okay, you can finish the show later, he needs you. Just take it for him, okay? He’ll make you feel so, so good.

[sophsicle]

okay, hold my drink *hands u cursed ancient goblet full of mead* i gotta talk my shit for a second.

ive been seeing a lot of severus snape love recently. and this is fine, obviously, y'all can love whomever you want. but. i need to rant or i will explode. if we're talking about canon. severus snape spends his adult years, seven books of it in fact, abusing children. and his excuse for this is the girl he loved (tho not enough not to join a group actively trying to exterminate her) fell for the hot jock instead of him (a tragedy indeed, i weep 4 him, i really do). and also she died, which, admittedly is very sad.

it is simply crazy 2 me 2 look at that and think *romance* or *genuine care and affection*. LIKE. fo real. snape calls her a slur in public, apologizes in private, hangs out with dudes who commit hate crimes against her friends (CANONICALLY, she says "you've been hanging out with that douchebag Mulciber, how could you do that after what he did to Mary???" this is not a direct quote but like, it's close enough). lame. loser behaviour.

"Oh but what about regulus" i can hear you say "he loves James potter but snape doesn't love lily???" well. idk. maybe. bit different tho, innit? due to james not being the demographic regulus is attacking (which doesn't make regulus a better person but does make the dynamic between him and james different). ALSO. Regulus chooses to turn against voldemort without hope for anything in return. snape doesn't seem to give a shit about voldemort, he's just sad he's not gonna get to bang lily evans. he switches sides for that reason alone. also doesn't care about what happens to her husband or her son which like. considering lily would be pretty fucking destroyed if they died. once again points to my whole, he doesn't really give a shit about her, theory. lame. loser. behaviour.

also. im sorry. I"M SORRY. but what snape does to neville? to hermione? to harry? gross. a grown ass man out here telling an eleven year old neville he's worthless or hermione she's ugly and annoying. or spilling harry's potion and refusing to grade him for it???????????????

reg and draco are children when we see them at peak suckage and therefore they feel like they can be redeemed much more compellingly (CAN be, not SHOULD be, not HAVE to be, just narratively i think they are easier to turn into interesting, sympathetic characters). but snape? snape grows up into a garbage adult. like he doesn't get better. and again, the only real excuse we're given is his obsession with lily. not very demure. not very cutesy.

ALSO. yall remember that time he got a destitute, struggling Remus Lupin fired from the best job he ever had just because he felt like it? remember that time snape weaponized Remus's lycanthropy and people's prejudice against him just cause. like. literally just cause??? his ego was bruised after the shrieking shack incident so he was like "get wrecked Lupin I'm going to tell everyone your secret so you will be forced back out onto the streets" DO YALL REMEMBER THAT BITCH ASS MOVE????????? THAT HE DID AS A FULL ADULT.

IN CONCLUSION, this is silly and, of course, like i said at the start, everyone can have their own thoughts and feelings about characters, but i simply needed to interject here on behalf of snape haters everywhere because i feel like so much of snape's shitty behaviour as an adult during a time when he was really under no duress and was very safe and cozy, is ignored. and my hater heart just cannot let that stand.

[tender-rosiey]

Hi hope you‘re doing well!!! I wanted to ask if you could write a scenario with Gojo and fem reader where she‘s lying on the bed reading and he wants her attention and she just grabs him and let‘s him cuddle her while she‘s reading I CAN‘T STOP THINKING ABT THIS

used to it — gojo satoru x gn!reader

despite all your complains, huffs, and eye rolls, you never truly found satoru’s affection bothersome. in fact, you found it very endearing and cute how he can be so openly infatuated with you.

in the beginning, you thought that perhaps his theatrics were blown out of proportion. that while yes he did want your attention, he surely didn’t want it that much.

but you were wrong, so very wrong.

you remember that one time you had left early to get some groceries, leaving satoru in the bed alone. in your defense, you were going as quickly as you could.

“I gotta go back before satoru realizes I am not in bed!”

you underestimated him. because the very moment he woke up, he looked around for you, under the bed, in the cupboards, and even in the chimney. his brows furrowed when there was no sign of you.

he whispered, eyes going through the room once again, but to no avail, “yn?”

his lips quickly formed into a pout and he whined—loudly, “y/n?!”

you instantly got a call from one very sad gojo satoru who was whining and complaining about how you left him all alone to fend for himself for hours and hours on end. you had checked the time right after that.

it had been 20 minutes.

anyways, you’re not new to gojo’s massive need for love and affection. you can also proudly say that you learned how to satiate him while not troubling yourself.

let’s take today as an example.

the new volume of your favorite book had finally dropped. so you sent a text to satoru telling him that you would be busy for tonight.

of course, that is unacceptable in his book so he told you that he would go to your house after he was done with his mission.

you were able to finish a couple of chapters before he finally burst through the door, exclaiming, “the world’s most eligible bachelor is here!”

you send a small smile his way and swiftly continue reading your book. he pouts, sulky about the lack of attention, “babe?”

“mhm?”

getting a mic out from god knows where, he clears his throat and delivers the best performance of his life, “I want your love and I want your revenge—“

silently, you pull him into your arms.

satoru tends to forget how strong you’re—especially because of all the things you go through as a sorcerer—,but he happily buries his face in the crook of your neck with a smile plastered on his pretty face, “you don’t want me to serenade you?”

you chuckle, “not really, and with bad romance out of everything?”

he gasps, offended, “I will have you know that lady gaga is an absolute icon!”

with a roll of your eyes, you continue silently reading while resting the book on his back—you doubt it weights anything to him though.

a few beats pass before satoru gazes up at your face, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “how was your day, pretty?”

“good,” you murmur then you kiss the top of his head and push it back to your chest. he welcomes it before he slightly turns his head and mumbles, “okay, so I should shut up?”

a giggle escapes your lips as you nod and start carding your fingers through his hair. he hums, murmuring a small ‘i love you’, before falling silent once again.

you assume that he is asleep. a soft sigh leaves your lips as you hug him a little tighter and gladly continue reading your book.

a grin breaks out on your face; you’re finally getting to the good part!

you quickly turn the page and your eyes dart to the beginning of the page in unbelievable speed. a gasp almost escapes your lips as you realize that the character has—

“y/n, how many chickens would it take to be able to kill a lion?”

the character has had enough of the husband and is about to murder him in his sleep.

“I mean like have you ever thought about—wait, babe, I am sorry, don’t hurt me—“

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[ivysangel]

asking jason for help with your english homework and you're trying to listen, you really are but he's just so hot when he's explaining to you the underlying themes in the book you're reading for class. your legs are clenched together and you're shifting in your seat, chasing a feeling you can only get with his cock stuffed inside of you. he asks if you're getting what he's saying and all you can do is nod your head and say "mhm" before he moves on to reading over your essay. your entire body is hot, and you slide your hand between your thighs, gently applying pressure without trying to draw attention.

"it's written well, only problem is that you need to find better quotes." his eyes continue surveying the computer screen, "want me to help?"

yes, you want him to help. help you out of your clothes and over the side of the couch where he'll fuck you from behind until your arms can't hold you up anymore and he'll wrap an arm around your stomach, pulling you closer to him. pounding in and out of your pussy until you see stars and the only word you can remember is his name.

"yeah that would be great." you murmur, and he rolls his sleeves up his forearms before grabbing a highlighter, ready to start annotating. he glides the tip of the marker along the paper, leaving yellow streaks in his wake. and you tense every muscle in your body, trying your hardest not to pounce on him, while you think about how it should be his tip leaving white streaks on your back.

"you can relax you know," he says. "i'll take care of your other problem in a few minutes, just gotta make sure you get an A first"

first real post on here, who else cheered? also, not proofread (part two, here)

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One ThirtyFive

prompt from @justsearchingformystory and @starthecozy

Eddie’s speaking and reading and writing and all that stuff has come on massively, but he still doesn’t quiet grasp all the nuances of...well, humans. So, sometimes he does things that are just...kind of slightly to the left of normal.

He hasn’t yet grasped that he is really, really not at all subtle. Steve hopes he never works it out, prays quietly that Eddie remains brash and obvious for the rest of their lives. Eddie has a catalogue from somewhere, one of those cheap badly printed things you pick up at the mall. They’re everywhere this time of year, trying to pressure people into buying yet more gifts. Like stuff is the only thing that could possibly bring happiness at Christmas.

He sits close enough to Steve that they’re squished together, flipping the pages. He’s pretending to look but the way he’s holding the book, it’s more like he’s showing it to Steve.

“I like this sweater,” Eddie says, not at all nonchalantly, and then he stares at Steve. Waiting. Holding the page open to show a man and a woman in matching sweaters.

“Yeah, not really your style any more babe, but I’m sure you’d look great in it.” It does, in fact, look exactly like the kind of thing Steve would wear.

Eddie blinks, and Steve knows his plan just hit an unexpected roadblock. Steve can almost hear Eddie thinking. Then he frowns, and turns the page.

“A remote control car,” Eddie reads carefully, “comes with batteries,” he’s showing Steve again.

“I guess you’ve never had anything like that,” Steve grins sweetly, already sensing Eddie’s growing frustration. Whatever the opposite of subtle is, Eddie is it, “I could get you one for Christmas, if you like,” Steve offers, trying to play this as normal as possible, doing his absolute best to school his expression. He’s not sure he’s succeeding, but Eddie doesn’t seem to realize, so near enough.

Eddie turns a couple of pages, “snow chains?” He’s frowning at the book now, “what are snow chains?”

“For the car tires, so you don’t slip around in the snow, I’ve already got some,” Steve smiles sweetly. Eddie’s frown deepens, and he abandons his tactic, and the magazine, heading off in a huff.

Steve wakes up slowly. It’s not urgent, part of his brain telling him that it’s just Eddie that woke him. He can feel Eddie holding his hand, doing something, and Steve shifts sleepily under the covers, blinking his eyes open just as Eddie shuffles something into his pocket. Steve frowns, Eddie’s already dressed. “What you doing baby?”

Steve rubs his thumb between his fingers, rubbing away the ghost of Eddie’s touch, “nothing!” Eddie replies, way too fucking fast, and way way too enthusiastically.

“Uh hu, that isn’t suspicious at all. You’re dressed.”

“Yeah,” Eddie leans over and kisses Steve on the forehead, and when Steve presents his cheek, Eddie kisses him there too, “Chris will be here soon, we’re going Christmas shopping.”

Steve yawns, “can I tag along? I could do with getting some gifts.”

Eddie immediately looks shifty, “uhm, no.”

“I know you’re getting stuff for me baby, you keeping it secret?”

“Maybe.”

“How about I call Robs, I can do some shopping with Rob, you can do some shopping with Chrissy, and then we can swap, I need to get Rob something.”

“And I want to get Chrissy something,” Eddie smiles, seeing Steve’s plan, “you gotta get dressed.” Eddie drags the covers unceremoniously off Steve, making him groan at the loss of comfort, “I’ll call Rob, going soon.”

“Okay okay. I’m up, I’m up,” Steve groans, dragging himself out of bed as Eddie thuds down the stairs.

“Can we get lunch?” Eddie asks, leaning forward as far as he can given his seat belt. Chrissy is driving, so the girls are sitting in the front, “the food court,” he says, with the utmost reverence. Steve remembers very fondly the first time Eddie went to the mall, wandering around with Steve, mouth open, not sure where to look because there’s just so much stuff. Technically it wasn’t the first time Eddie had been to a mall, since Steve carried him through half of Starcourt when they made their escape, but Steve’s pretty sure Eddie doesn’t remember much of that. To be honest, neither does Steve since he was high on Russian drugs and beat all to hell.

The nearest mall is now near the city, so that’s where Steve took Eddie. And then he saw the food court for the first time. Eddie had made a noise Steve’s sure he’s only ever heard when they’ve been having sex.

Chrissy laughs, “of course we can.”

“Okay,” Steve checks his watch, “we meet here at twelve thirty, get lunch, then trade off, yeah?”

Robin salutes him, “aye aye captain.”

They go opposite ways, Robin immediately quizzing Steve, “so what is Eddie getting you?”

“I...actually have no idea. He’s brought his savings with him through, so,” Steve shrugs, “he’s got to buy for his secret Santa too.”

“Who did you get?”

“I am not telling you-”

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours-”

Steve shoves her, laughing.

They don’t mean to find Eddie and Chrissy, but as they walk into the store and spot them, Steve and Robin both instinctively duck down out of the way, hiding.

“Oof, I hope that isn’t for either of us,” the sweater Eddie is holding up was an almost rabid confusion of pink and yellow.

They can hear Chrissy and Eddie laughing, “oh no,” Robin sighs, “they’re going to weaponize the sweater.”

“We should go, there’s no way I’ll be able to act surprised.”

Robin breathes deeply through her nose, trying to see where they’ve gone now, “okay, I think we’re safe, pretty sure he left the sweater.”

“Doesn’t mean they won’t be back for it,” Steve grumbles.

“They’re late,” Steve checks his watch. He isn’t worried; Eddie’s with Chrissy, and it’s only the mall.

“Not that late...there they are,” Robin goes on tip toe, waving to get their attention.

“Where’s all you stuff?” Steve can’t help but notice they’re empty handed.

“In the car, hidden from prying eyes,” Chrissy tells them with a knowing look.

“It’s a secret, Stevie,” Eddie informs them solemnly, “Chrissy is keeping my gifts at hers. We can wrap them in the dark.”

Chrissy snorts a laugh, “no honey, we need to keep Steve in the dark.”

“Right right,” Eddie frowns vaguely, but clearly has other priorities, “lunch food?”

Steve collapses onto the couch, simply walking around all the stores can be exhausting, maybe because of all the thinking and planning involved. Steve managed to get a couple of records and band shirts for Eddie; things he knows he will like.

His guitar playing has been coming along too, Eddie picking that up just as fast as everything else, and Steve managed to find a book of Metallica tabs at the record store, plus a red guitar pick necklace that he’s certain will be a winner. The red plastic has the faintest of sparkles to it, and Eddie is such a magpie Steve’s sure he will like it.

“Close your eyes Stevie love!” Eddie hollers through the house.

Steve snorts a laugh, but does as he’s told, not moving a muscle otherwise, still slouched on the couch, “okay! They’re shut!”

He can hear Eddie moving around, rustling things on the coffee table, “okay, open.”

Eddie’s laid out a bunch of...stuff...on the table. Crafty looking stuff. In the middle there are two Christmas stockings, the kind you hang on the mantle. One is red and green candy cane stripe, and the other a dark blue with little glittery starts printed all over. They look extremely cheap, but no less charming for it, “what are we doing baby?”

“We’re going to make hot chocolate, I got fancy marshmallows, and we’re decorating our socks.”

“Stockings.”

“Sure. That.” Eddie has scissors and felt and a little bottle of Elmer’s glue. There are tacky plastic gems with paper backs, and sheets of little foil stickers; angels and snow men and Christmas trees and stuff. “They have to have our names on, so we can cut out letters?” Eddie holds up a little sheet of colored felt material.

“I...you know. I’m pretty sure I see your vision, this looks fun. Lets go and make the hot chocolate.”

The smile Eddie gives him is brighter than the godamn sun, and they end up making out in the kitchen, waiting for the milk to heat.

Part ThirtySeven

[rapunzelbro]

The Act of Stealing a Loved One |2| (Stanley Pines x Reader)

This chapter is a flashback. So are the others. Enjoy! It's super long lmao

Story Guide

It was the Summer of 1972 when you first met Stanford. You remember it almost all too well. You went to a college for the arts, majoring in music composition. Oh! And you were in a band! It was not good by any means, you all were figuring this out as you went but you were all having fun so it didn’t really matter to you. It’s kinda funny looking back on how the two of you somehow became a couple considering how different the two of you were.

You two only met after you accidentally stumbled in his room one night after you partied too hard at someone else's dorm. You thought his room was your friend's room. His dorm had books scattered around, posters of some scientists on the wall and an absolute mess of notes on his desk. Stanford did not want to spend his night with some random drunk girl in his dorm, but he knew he had to let you in, not trusting what any of the other men on the campus would do if they saw you like this. He didn’t know why you made him so flustered, maybe it was your vulnerable state, or just because you were a girl, talking to him.

It was probably both.

“You know, I never wanted to go to this, it was some promotional stuff for my band. Did I tell you I was in a band? We are amazing!” You were laying on the floor staring at the ceiling smiling goofily, flipping onto your stomach to look at the flustered man whose dorm you broke into. He took a glance over his shoulder to look at you, trying to tell you he was listening, even if you didnt care if he was or not. “Okay so that might be a lie, Gabs is super pitchy, Jamie is still figuring out the drums but that's besides the point..I met you by going to this!” you finally sat up running a hand through your hair “You're so dorky it's kinda cute” you let off a soft giggle pointing at him.

This made Stanford physically freeze, his breath hitching slightly “Thank you I suppose, Are your friends looking for you?” He quickly changed the subject, turning around in his chair, looking at you “I think, I dunno… I kinda wanna stay here with you” you smirked. “Well I-” he started before he heard a female voice yelling in the hallway “Y/N! We gotta go!” “Oh that's Gabs! She’s my friend!” You stumbled up before heading towards the door, pausing before going back over to the man kissing his check with a giggle, causing Stanford's face to turn bright red “Thank you for saving me! I’m Y/n by the way!” “Um… It's Stanford, Call me Ford..” he managed to get out, quickly writing the phone number to the telephone that was in his room, down on a piece of notebook paper. “Just.. Call me when you get to your dorm safe..” he quickly turned back to face his textbooks he had his nose buried in hours ago “Aw you care about me… Okay loverboy. Seeya around!” you poked his shoulder before leaving, yelling at your friend ‘Gabs’ to get her attention

Ford had no idea why he did that, he never had the balls to do this sort of thing. Especially with someone as beauti- No why the hell was he having these thoughts? You weren't going to call him. He has to forget about this encounter, he concluded, going back to his uneventful night.

He got a call the next day, it was you. There was some sort of music in the background, he couldn't place what it was, some pop music maybe. “Oh my gosh is this Ford? I kinda crashed at your dorm last night, I am sooo sorry I am super embarrassed.” you rambled on before Ford let off a slight chuckle “No it's fine. I’m glad you're safe, you seemed very out of it last night” he leaned back in his chair slightly as he spoke “Ugh don't get me started about the hangover” you groaned causing him to laugh.

After that was the beginning of a relationship, you spent your off time together, he helped you with classes and you expanded his music taste, well tried to at least.

It's been 4 months since you two started dating. Ford even told his brother about this, and to say Stanley was shocked was an understatement, he rushed over surprising Ford “So you finally found a girl who doesn’t run off screaming? Tell me all about her” Stanley smirked looking at his twin brother, noticing a photo of you on his desk in a frame, you had a microphone in your hand giving a peace sign to the camera with your other hand. How the hell did his brother score you? Ford went off to ramble about you, he was a love sick mess, but the way his eyes kept shifting to the photo of you when explaining you made Stan confused, why did he have to keep looking at it to talk about you?

He noticed a few flyers to some music festivals, they looked untouched. “Who gave you these?” he picked one up, the show was for tonight, in a few hours. “Oh Y/n did. She’s in a band” Ford looked at the flier before directing his attention back to the textbook that was in front of him “You plan on seeing her right?” Stan raised an eyebrow looking at his brother “Too busy, I have an exam tomorrow” Ford shrugged it off flipping to the next page in his book “You’re joking right? Have you been to any of her shows?” Stan narrowed his eyes in disapproval, Ford didn't say anything “Some boyfriend you are” He muttered looking down at the flier in his hands. He knew what he had to do, he wasn’t going to let Ford ruin the only potential relationship he would probably ever have.

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[babyhatesreality]

Nightlight

Pairing: Daddy!Stucky x Little!F!Reader

Warnings: DDLG (SSC), f! reader, reader is named but name scarcely used, language, pet names, angsty/anxious/insecure baby, a few tears, Stucky being the best daddies ever.

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. THIS STORY IS SFW- THE REST OF MY BLOG IS NOT NECESSARILY SO. MINORS DNI. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR MY WORK TO BE STOLEN, COPIED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY OTHER SITE BUT MY OWN. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated.

"Alright love bug, time to get out," Steve said, smiling as he watched you play with your tub toys. He held out the small plastic basket to you. You tossed your toys one by one into it, cheering proudly each time like you'd made a half-court shot. Steve of course cheered right along with you. Once all your toys were put up, he hung the basket on the hooks on the tub wall to dry, and helped you out. He wrapped the big fluffy towel around you. "Gotta hug you dry!" he said, giving you a big squeeze and making you giggle. "I heard that kisses help you dry off too, isn't that right?" he added very seriously, before attacking your face with noisy smooches. You squealed and playfully twisted like you were trying to get away, but deep down you loved it.

You were still getting used to being so cared for and protected. You'd been with Steve and Bucky for about six weeks now. The bond between the three of you was incredible, and you felt so safe and happy, trusting them instantly and completely. It was still taking some time for you to believe that you were worthy of this much love and attention, but you were slowly getting there. As if you really had any other choice when you were constantly being showered with it.

Once you were dry, Steve helped you brush your teeth and combed out your hair, before carrying you, still wrapped in the huge fluffy towel, to Bucky. "What's it gonna be tonight, princess?" Papa asked. "Do you want to sleep in the big bed with us, or in your bed with your stuffies?"

Without really thinking about it, you answered quickly. "Stuffies please!" Daddy and Papa had just let you build two brand new teddies at Build-A-Bear today, and you were eager for them to get to know the rest of their new stuffy gang. The idea of cuddling two new stuffies plus Jellybean tonight was just too exciting to pass up.

"You got it, love," Papa said with a smile. He carried you out to Bucky, gently transferring you into his waiting arms. "She's sleeping with her new pals tonight," he explained. Bucky grinned, looking down on your excited face.

"What did you name your new teddies again, Trouble?" he asked, remembering full well what you had named them.

"Named 'em Cap and BuckBear!" you answered cheerfully.

"That's right you did," he said smugly to himself, as he carried into your room. He made quick work of putting your sleepytime lotion on, and dressing you in the pink and blue pjs you'd picked out earlier, all while you told him all about your new teddy bears. He nodded and followed along, subtly laying you down in bed before you really realized it. Once you caught on, however, you started squirming and trying to sit back up, but all it took was him tucking your new furry friends into your arms one at a time for you to lay back down with a contented sigh.

He and Steve each took their turn reading you a book that you picked out. As your eyelids were getting unbearably heavy, Bucky reached over and switched on the soft blue unicorn nightlight, before turning on the baby monitor. They finished the last story, tucked you in, gave you gentle kisses on the forehead, and tiptoed out the door.

You smiled, nuzzling into your new teddies' soft fur. Then, of course, you had to reach for Jellybean, not wanting her to feel left out. Then you needed to give some time to each new teddy so they knew they were loved too...and before you knew it, you were wide awake again, trying to make sure all the stuffies got equal love before you all went to sleep.

Once you were satisfied, you snuggled in and closed your eyes. But...something was wrong. Something didn't sound right. You wiggled and fidgeted, not knowing what it was, but it was making you more and more anxious. Suddenly you realized that you hadn't slept alone for nearly three weeks. You were so used to hearing the gentle breathing of Papa and Daddy snuggled next to you, that the silence of your room was too loud. And then it was scary.

You opened your eyes, focusing on your unicorn nightlight. It was so lovely and pretty, but it just wasn't doing the job- it couldn't soothe you enough, or chase away enough of the creeping fear climbing up your spine. You desperately wanted to get out of bed and go find Papa and Daddy. But you shook your head and buried your face into Jellybean. Good girls stayed in bed. Good girls did what they were told. Otherwise, that meant they were bad and who wanted a bad little girl?

*************************************

Steve and Bucky were getting ready for bed in their room. "I almost don't know what to do with myself," Steve joked. "I'm so used to Katie being in here and going to bed with her that I've forgotten how to adult."

Bucky chortled quietly. "You want me to read you a story?" he teased, laughing when Steve tossed his wadded up teeshirt at his head. "Punk."

"Jerk."

"You wanna watch a movie?"

"I feel like I should say yes, but...."

"You only wanna watch a Disney movie, don't you?"

"...yes."

"...me too."

"I've gotten so addicted to them with her!"

"Right?! How the hell did they get that good over all these years?"

"Makes you glad were were both on ice for some of those in between ones, eh?"

"Tell me about it. Let's find one of the ones that might be too scary for her. We'll screen it and see if she can handle it."

"I love that idea."

"Well, I am the smart one."

"I still outrank you."

"Touche, punk. Gimme the remote."

They both climbed into bed, scrolling through the options. Before Bucky hit play though, he hesitated. "What is it?" Steve asked.

"Should we...should we go check on her? Just to make sure she's...you know...okay?" Bucky asked, trying to play it cool and failing miserably.

Steve smiled gently. "I'm missing her too," he said reassuringly. The bed felt somehow empty without your small frame wiggling around in it. "But we need to let her have her independence when she wants it. That's part of keeping her healthy and safe."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Bucky said, pouting. "But I don't have to like it."

Before Steve could agree, they heard something. Something come through the baby monitor. Something that made them both absolutely freeze.

You gave the tiniest sniff. Like...maybe like you were crying.

Steve and Bucky tore across the apartment so fast, it was a wonder there weren't skid marks on the carpet. They screeched to a halt by your door, not wanting to scare you, or even wake you up if you were, in fact, asleep. Steve cracked the door open the tiniest bit, just enough to get a look at you in your bed. You were definitely crying silently. Bucky let out a soft exhale of air, like he'd been punched in the stomach at the sight of your tears. You heard it and turned to them.

"Daddy? Papa?" you asked in the smallest, most heartbreaking voice they'd ever heard.

Instantly, you found yourself in Bucky's arms, and then both of you were in Steve's. You tried to subtly wipe your eyes, but of course they knew you'd been crying.

"What's wrong, baby girl?" Steve asked, his heart threatening to squeeze out his chest as he held both you and Bucky. "Did you get scared? Are you okay?"

"It's okay, you're safe, nothing can hurt you," Bucky added in a soothing tone. "We're here, my love. We're right here."

"I...sowwy."

"What?" Steve replied, completely surprised. "What are you sorry for honey? You didn't do anything wrong."

"S'posed to be 'sleep," you mumbled, the tears threatening again.

"Aw, that's okay Trouble," Bucky said with a soft smile. "Sometimes it takes me a long time to fall asleep too."

"Not....dat..." you whispered, before turning your ashamed face into Bucky's chest. They exchanged a quick look.

"What is it then, honey? You can tell us, it's okay," Steve said soothingly, rubbing circles on your back. "Daddy and I got you, okay? Can we please help you?"

You gulped, and looked up at them. They both seemed sincere, and you had no reason not to trust them...."I...I got scawed," you lisped out, your Rs turning into Ws the way they did when you were upset. "It's okay, Princess, Daddy and I will protect you from anything, okay? You know that, right?"

"Yeah...."

"Can you tell us what scared you?"

"No," you said, turning back into Bucky's chest.

"Why not baby?"

"Cause....'cause I don't wanna be bad...."

"You're not bad, Trouble. You're our good little girl. Please tell us what scared you. We won't be mad, we promise."

"Pwomise?"

"We promise," they said in unison. That was what finally broke you enough to tell them, the tears starting up again.

"I...I missed you and I wann'd to come back to the big bed but good giwls don't get outta bed and dey gotta be good and stay...."

You watched their faces closely as you confessed, just waiting for them to scold you. Instead, the softest smiles crossed their faces when they heard that you were missing them.

"Oh angel," Steve breathed, leaning in to rub his nose against yours. "How on earth could we be mad at you for missing us?"

"You...you not mad?"

"Not even a little bit, baby." "Cause guess what Trouble?" Bucky added, his voice hoarse with emotion.

"What?" you asked innocently, your wide, pleading eyes doing him in all over again.

"We were missing you too."

"You was?"

"Uh-huh. Big time."

"It's true, Baby. Daddy and I were talking about it before we heard you in the baby monitor."

"Was twying to be quiet and be good."

"And that was very sweet of you, lovebug, but listen to me, okay?" Papa said, scooting in even closer and putting a finger under your chin so you'd look him in the eye. "If you ever, and I mean ever, need me or Daddy, you can always, always, ALWAYS come to us. No matter what. Okay?"

You blinked up at him, astonished that you hadn't been the perfect little girl you were supposed to be....yet he still wanted you to come to him anyways? You knew you could trust your Papa....and he wouldn't lie to you....

"That's right, Baby Girl," Buck added, seeing your disbelief. "Doesn't matter if it's late at night, or early in the morning, or if you've just been put to bed- doesn't matter. Doesn't even matter if it's nowhere near bedtime. If you want us, you got us. Papa and I are here for you and want you to be the happiest baby in the world. So don't even think about it again- if you need me and Papa, you come get us. Understood?"

"I....I can come get you if I need you?"

"Of course you can, Trouble."

"Always," added Steve lovingly.

"Can I....can I...."

"Yes?"

"Can....I come....sweep with you tonight pwease?"

"Thought you'd never ask," Bucky teased, swinging you up in his arms suddenly and standing.

"Do you want to bring your new furry friends with you, baby?" Steve asked, already gathering them in anticipation of what he already knew you were going to say.

You couldn't even respond for a moment, you were so full of wonder and joy at their love and affirmation. At their care. They DID love you. They DID care for you. And you could make mistakes and they would still love you. No one had ever done that for you before. But maybe...just maybe...you had finally found it. The two bestest daddies in the entire world that genuinely loved and cared for you. Your heart was so full, it was amazing.

You nodded shyly at Steve, who grinned and carefully gathered Cap, BuckBear, and Jellybean. "I call cuddling with Baby and Cap," he said playfully as the three of you (well, the six of you counting the stuffies) made your way out of your bedroom.

"No fair!" Bucky said back in a theatrically wounded voice. "I wanna cuddle with Baby! And of course BuckBear. He is the handsomest, isn't he, Trouble?" When you gave your little giggle at their silliness, they both smiled those soft, special smiles at you again, making your heart warm and making you feel so loved all over again.

In no time at all, you were comfortably cuddled in the crook of Bucky's right arm while holding Steve's left forearm against your chest. After some more playful and gentle teasing, Cap was cuddled by Papa, BuckBear by Daddy, and Jellybean was squished up all cozy in between Papa's arm and you.

You sighed, feeling so loved and cared for. "Papa? Daddy?" you asked sleepily, as once more your eyelids became oh so heavy.

"What is it, baby?" Bucky asked in his deep, quiet tones.

"You are better dan a million nightlights," you said with a gentle smile.

They both leaned into you at that, giving you sweet goodnight kisses all over again. "You're the light of our lives, angel," Steve whispered. "We'll always be your nightlights."

[theocddiaries]

Hal: So you had a meltdown over that? Bruce: I did. Because ever since I met him, I've been trying to get Clark to try a wedge salad. The minute that Guy Gardner - whom he doesn't even like - suggests it, Clark thinks it's the greatest thing ever. And he does this with everything! He does it with books, with movies, with TV. He listens to everybody's opinion but mine, and it drives me crazy. Hal: You two seemed fine this morning? Bruce: Yeah, well, we were because we talked about it. You asked. Hal: Hm… [LATER, AT A RESTAURANT] Clark: Well, this is nice. Me, our kids and my handsome, handsome boyfriend. Just so you know, I rescheduled with Lana. I penciled her in for the 12th… of never. [Chuckles] Bruce: Oh? That's too bad. I was kind of looking forward to hearing about how she was doing. Clark: Ah… By the way, no one called for you while you were out. Bruce: Thank you? Clark: I wanna make sure you get any messages from any friends that might call, which none of them did. Tim [On a mission to uncover Cassandra and be the best sibling]: Isn't it weird that Cassandras's the only one here not wearing a name tag? Clark: If your father had a name tag, it would say “Good Driver.” Bruce: … Clark: Well, what could be better than drinks with a wonderful man? And every wonderful man deserves flowers-cauliflowers. [Takes one out of his bag, with a ribbon on it]. Not broccoli, I remembered. Bruce [Inhales]: Okay. What's going on? Is this about last night? Clark: I want you to know how important to me you are. Bruce: Oh… Sweetie, I know that. I know that. Clark: I still feel bad about, you know… [Confused]: what I did. Bruce: Listen to me. You and I are fine. Okay? I'm just really hungry. Okay? Clark: Okay. [Chuckles] Bruce [Looks at the menu]: All right. What looks good? Clark: Hm… Oh, gosh. Ooh, here's something that jumps right off the page. Uh-huh. I tried this yesterday, thanks to my good friend Guy Gardner. Bruce [Tenses. He shakes his head in denail] Clark: Bruce, do yourself a favor and join me in a wedge salad. Bruce [Snaps] You have got to be kidding me! Clark: …Just try it. You will thank me. Bruce: Did you learn nothing from last night? Tim: Whoa. Clark: Wait… It was about the salad? Bruce: I have been recommending wedge salads to you, amongst other things, for years, and you never listen to me. And then some idiot suggests it, and you can't wait to try a wedge salad? It makes me feel like I don't matter. [Gets up and leaves the restaurant]. Cassandra [Feigns indignation]: Thanks a lot, Clark. Dad's little outburst just got me fired. [Flees]. Clark: Okay. I gotta talk to your dad, you comfort your sister. Tim: … She never worked here in the first place!

[headkiss]

you’ll always know me (pt. 2)

part 1, part 2

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie misses you too much when he’s away, so he comes home again and invites you to join him on tour. the two of you figure some things out, too.

word count: 12.2k

warnings: fluff, some angst (i’m sorry!), childhood friends to lovers, librarian!reader, still idiots in love, and a kiss!!!

a/n: hiii thank you guys so so much for all the love on part 1 of this one!!! i hope u love part 2 (the finale) just as much!!! i really really enjoyed writing these two and hopefully you enjoy it too!!! please let me know what you think <3

♫♩♪♬

It’s about a month later when Eddie has another break from tour.

Rather than hanging around wherever in the world he is for the short time like he normally would on the short breaks, he finds himself booking a flight to Hawkins. Sure, he’ll only be there for about 48 hours, maybe less, but he doesn’t mind.

He really, really wants to see you.

Considering how often he talks to you on the phone now, it’d be tough to surprise you this time, so he doesn’t. Last call, he’d told you he had a couple of days off, with a seed of hope in your chest, you’d asked him what he was going to do, and the happy cheer you made when Eddie told you he was coming home is something he’d never forget.

“Is Wayne picking you up?” You’d asked, knowing Eddie would rather not take a driver if it’s possible.

“He’s gotta work.”

“Why don’t I come get you, then?”

And, well, how could Eddie ever say no to that?

That brings him here, walking along the familiar floor of the Indianapolis International Airport, a beanie tucked on his head despite the weather, a pair of sunglasses over his eyes despite being inside.

He’s lucky that it’s not a busy time at the airport, that people don’t really pay him any attention whenever he’s closer to home. One day, that might change, but he’s glad for now, for the sort of peace it brings.

His suitcase is tugged along behind him, wheels spinning against the tiled floors, his legs are stiff from the flight, his neck has an ache in it from his nap, but the discomfort sort of melts away when he sees you.

Eddie suddenly feels more aware of himself than he ever has around you, the pickup in his heart rate louder than ever. He assumes that’s got something to do with those feelings he’s got for you. Feelings he’s had and only just recognized.

You're standing by your car right outside the doors with the ‘pick up’ sign hanging over them, sweater sleeves long enough to cover your palms and a sign (a flimsy piece of paper, really) with the word ‘loser’ scrawled in sharpie.

“You’re still my loser,” he remembers you saying, that night in his van. That night he kissed you and you kissed him and everything felt exactly right for just a minute.

A soft chuckle leaves his chest as he walks through the doors, and even with his poor disguise on, you know it’s him right away. A pair of black jeans, ripped in the knees, a faded band tee, and messy curls. So clearly Eddie.

You want to say his name as soon as you see him, shout it excitedly and sort of embarrassingly. Instead, you let go of your paper with one hand and wave, bouncing on your feet just a little.

Your best friend, the best boy you’ve ever known, back sooner than you ever could’ve hoped.

A smile splits your cheeks, and a mirrored expression spreads on Eddie’s face, his eyes crinkling behind his sunglasses with the force of it.

When he’s close enough, he drops his suitcase handle and rushes to you, his arms going around your waist and crumpling your piece of paper between your bodies. His hug knocks the air out of you in the best way possible, the smell of his soap and cologne hitting your nose; pine and sandalwood and smoke and something sweet like vanilla.

His hair tickles your nose and you wouldn’t want it any other way. Your arms go around his neck, face tucked against his shoulder.

“Hey, trouble,” he breathes. There’s something like relief there.

“Hi, Eddie,” you say, and it’s quiet enough that he’s the only one that could hear you. He squeezes you even tighter, his hug so crushing you’re standing on your tiptoes to stay in it.

“Thanks for coming.”

You’d go to a lot of places for him, almost anywhere. The Indianapolis International Airport isn’t all that special.

You squeeze your eyes shut for a second, then remember that you’re still in public, that he’s Eddie Munson, and that you’ve been hugging for a long time for something friendly. Clearing your throat, you pull away and tear the edges of your paper between your fingers.

“Yeah, yeah. Get in the car.”

He does, a smile still on his face, though it’s softer now, a little shy. As soon as you pull away from the airport, Eddie tugs off his beanie and sunglasses. He’s often the one driving when you’re together (or, he was when he was always in Hawkins), so he takes this chance to lean his head against the seat and watch you drive.

There’s a small squint in your eyes when you look at some signs, and then he’s thinking about how you’d look in glasses, morning eyes bleary behind the frames. Pretty, he thinks. You hum along to the radio and he’s joining in.

“You’re one-upping me,” you say when he does. “It’s kinda unfair, mister famous singer.”

It’s sort of crazy, how you can say something so simple, so out-of-mind, and it’s enough to wash away any ounce of worry Eddie had that things would be weird now. He guesses you two are too far in now for something like a kiss—the best kiss of his life, probably—to change anything.

Too far into your friendship, of course.

“Stop, we used to sing together all the time,” he says.

“That was before you got a record deal! Now it’s unbalanced!”

“This is the best part of the song, trouble,” Eddie reaches over and twists the volume knob, turning it up, “sing along.”

You’re shaking your head and you’re smiling and just like that you and Eddie are harmonizing on the bridge. It’s pitchy (on your part) and easy (on his) and it’s pretty perfect.

The sun sits lower in the sky by the time you’re in Hawkins, pulling into the trailer park. There’s an orange hue in the sky, fading into pinks and blues.

Wayne’s car still isn’t back from work, and gravel crunches beneath your tires as you park in front of Eddie’s trailer. You look over at him, the time spent in the car talking and singing and soaking in his presence like a plant in sunlight doesn’t feel like enough and it feels like everything at the same time.

“Welcome home, Eddie.”

He glances over at you like he has time and time again on the way, eyes flicking over your features even as you turn to look towards the sunset out the window.

“It’s good to be home.” His eyes are still on you.

-

Eddie tried to wait up for Wayne that night, but he seemed to be working way later than he should’ve been (some things never change) and Eddie was more tired than he thought.

He showered, laid down, and he was out.

He wakes up with hair even messier than usual, his arm stiff from where he’d been using it as a pillow, and indents from the blankets on his bare chest. Telltale signs of a good sleep.

Walking out into the kitchen, that smell of crappy coffee and the sight of his uncle has him smiling, “morning, Wayne.”

“My boy,” his uncle sets down his newspaper to greet him, pushing back and standing up to give him a proper hug, hand slapping his back affectionately. “Back so soon. You missed me that much?”

“Sure,” he says, pulling back and grabbing a mug from the cabinet. “I wanted to say ‘hi’ when you got back yesterday, but I was out.”

“I know,” Wayne chuckles a little, “I checked on ya and found you snoring.”

“I don’t snore!”

“You snore, kid.”

“You have no proof,” Eddie says, sitting across from his uncle the way he has forever. “What kept you out so late, anyway? Car giving you trouble?”

Sinking into his seat a little, Wayne fights a smile, “no, not a car.”

“Wayne Munson! Were you on a date?”

The thought has Eddie grinning. His uncle deserves someone, he deserves to be loved in that way and to be less lonely.

“I’m the parent here,” he says, though it’s clear in the out-of-character shyness that Eddie’s right, “I’m the one who gets to ask questions.”

“I’m happy for you,” Eddie says.

“Shut up and go to the library, I know that’s why you came back.”

Eddie never really stopped to think of the exact thing that pulled him back here so soon. Obviously he wants to see you, he always does, but that hasn’t always been enough to get him home, as awful as that sounds. This time, it’s like he was searching for an opening, any sliver of time so that he could see your face and hear your voice at the same time.

So, yeah, maybe that is ultimately why he came back. And maybe he abandons his coffee mug in favor of getting dressed and driving his van over to the library.

You’re going through your system and finding overdue books, calling people and having to stay sweet even when they’re cold with you. It’s your least favorite task of the job, probably.

Then, the door’s opening and when you glance up to see who it is, it’s exactly who you’re looking for. Eddie, spinning his car keys around his finger, humming softly.

“So, where can I find a book on rock ‘n’ roll?”

“Dork.”

It was only yesterday that he saw you, and still, you’re a total breath of fresh air.

“What, you’re not happy to see me?”

“Of course I am. What are you doing here?”

“Um, hanging out with my best friend. Put me to work, trouble.”

Best friend, best friend, best friend. The words tug at your heart in two ways. One: even though he’s met so many new people, he still considers you his best. Two: you’re only friends.

“Okay, here,” you pat the desk beside you where the phone sits, “you can call my overdue books for me.”

“Sounds good to me.”

He walks around the desk to go behind it with you, pulling over a chair from the closest table and sitting down.

For every phone call you ask him to make, Eddie puts on some sort of voice. A British accent for one, his terrible high pitched old lady voice for another. You’re hiding your giggles behind your hand and you’re definitely not thinking of what your boss might say to you if she found out.

It doesn’t matter, it’ll be worth it to feel this way. Like no time has passed at all, like you and Eddie are kids hiding out in his trailer with the phone book open making prank calls for hours until Wayne had to cut you off. It’s then and now mingling the way they do when you’ve known someone this long.

The door opens again right after Eddie hangs up the last call, right after you’ve looked at each other and burst out laughing because of the reaction he’d gotten on the other line.

“My stomach hurts, Eddie,” you lean back in your chair, and he wipes at his eyes, “stop making me laugh.”

“I can’t help it, I’m just so funny.”

You slap his arm lightly, shaking your head. “So humble, too.”

You sit up when whoever had walked in comes up to the desk, and you find a young boy and a woman who you assume is his mother.

“Go ahead,” she urges him.

Nervously, the boy steps forward, “are you Eddie Munson?” He asks, and it’s then you notice the small Corroded Coffin pin on the strap of his backpack.

Eddie doesn’t really get approached in Hawkins, usually. The people here didn’t really like him for a long time, for the most part, and then they just sort of seemed to accept it. He doesn’t mind one bit, though. He’s lucky above a lot of things.

“Sure am. What’s up, buddy?”

“Could I get an autograph?” The boy asks.

“Totally!” Eddie stands up, grabbing a sharpie and a piece of paper from your desk before walking around it to greet the boy properly.

He kneels down in front of him, gives him a fist bump and wears the kindest smile you’ve ever known. You’re basically a puddle, watching the interaction with fondness melting in your chest.

“Who do I make it out to?” Eddie asks.

The boy looks up at his mom, who nods at him, and he turns back to Eddie, “Frankie.”

“Nice to meet you, Frankie. Sick name.”

Eddie uses his leg to write on the page, scrawling a small message that you can’t make out from where you sit. When he’s done, he looks back at Frankie and hands him the paper.

“There you go, buddy.”

“Thank you!” His smile is so wide, his eyes disbelieving as he shares a look with his mom.

“Thank you,” the woman says. “Sorry to bother you, have a nice day.”

“It’s no bother, no worries,” Eddie tells her, waving at the pair as they leave, “have a good one!”

When he turns back around to face you, you’re smiling all soft and adoringly and he’d sign a million autographs if you’d always look at him that way afterwards.

“What?” He asks, like it wasn’t a big deal.

“That was so cute, Eddie. Did you see his face?”

“What can I say, the people love me.” Eddie shrugs, playing it off. “Think you have some competition for number one fan, trouble.”

Yeah, right. If only he knew about that damn shoebox you have.

“Not a chance, Munson. That spot’s mine.”

-

It feels like you’ve blinked and you’re already driving Eddie back to the airport. Even so, you’re happy knowing that he came home again. It’s like that distance that had painfully wedged itself between you has been growing smaller and smaller, despite him being away.

With every phone call, every laugh, every utterance of the word ‘trouble’ in Eddie’s voice, something welds itself back together, healing over where miles apart had wounded it. Mending like a bone, fractured but never broken.

Beside you, Eddie’s been fidgeting with his rings, twirling them around his fingers as you drive. You’re not sure why, and you haven’t asked, because if he wants to, he’ll tell you and you’ll listen. He’s nervous, that much you know.

Eddie’s been thinking about asking you something for a while, and with how his gut twists when he thinks about not seeing you for months at a time again, he figures it’s worth a shot.

He wants to have you around when he’s doing what he loves, when he feels like he’s on top of the world. He wants you there and he thinks it might feel better than ever that way.

You drive up to the drop-off spot, pulling over and parking the car. Eddie turns to look at you, and you do the same so that you’re facing each other. He’s got a beanie on again, black with a small pair of dice embroidered on the front. There are dark circles under his eyes, and somehow his tiredness makes them shine even more, like the morning sun reflects differently.

“So,” he starts, dragging out the word. “I have a question for you.”

“Okay, shoot.”

Well, he’s gotta do it now, no matter the nerves or the fear of rejection.

“Will you come on tour with me?”

“What?” Is what comes out of your mouth because you’re not sure that you heard him right. Sure, you’ve seen him live plenty of times, but not at this stage of his career, not alongside him that way.

“I want you to come on tour with us, with me. We’re gonna be in New York for a bit, and you should be there.”

“Wow, Eddie, I- what about the library? Or traveling? I can’t afford-”

“A week,” he cuts you off, hand finding yours on the center console, his fingers weaving their way between yours so easily, like magnets finding each other, like it’s meant to be that way. “Come for a week, and obviously it’s covered, honey.”

You want to say yes, you want to shout it and kiss him again, really. Instead you worry a little. The library would be fine, you’ve yet to take any vacation days, anyway, but what if he regrets bringing you? What if he’s asking you on a whim and he doesn’t mean it?

“You really want me there?” You ask, gaze flicking down to your hand in his. His rings are cool against your skin, but his palm is warm, and when he squeezes, it’s an unspoken reassurance.

“I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t, trouble. I promise.”

“You’re serious?”

You’re still looking at your hands, and that changes when Eddie ducks his head to catch your eye, his gaze is soft and serious all at once, his smile sticky sweet.

“I want you there. If that works for you, I want you there.” His thumb runs a pattern over your hand, back and forth again and again. “If you want to, you’re more than welcome, and I'll take care of it.”

You might not even let him leave if he keeps talking to you like that, delicate and kind with zero trace of doubt. None at all.

“Okay.”

“Okay, you'll come?” His hand is holding yours tighter, like hope spills from Eddie’s body and needs somewhere to go.

“Yeah, I’ll come. I’ll have to check with my boss, but-”

You’re cut off by Eddie’s arms pulling you into a hug. It’s uncomfortable, leaned across the center console, seat belt digging into your stomach, but you wouldn’t dream of pulling away.

“I’m so glad,” he says.

Your face is hidden in his hair, your smile hidden just the same. You’re glad, too.

“You’re gonna be late, Munson.”

He breathes you in again before pulling back, “trying to get rid of me?”

“Trying to make sure you don’t miss your flight.”

“I know. I’ll see you soon?”

He’s unbuckling his seat belt, pushing the door open, but he doesn’t move to get out until you respond.

“Yeah, you will. You’ll have to call me, though. I don’t know where you’ll be.”

“I’ll call you, honey.”

When he gets out and grabs his bags, when he turns to wave at you one more time before going inside, it doesn’t feel so bad this time. Your chest feels whole, your smile still on your face.

I’ll see you soon. It feels much better than a goodbye.

-

True to his word, Eddie covered everything. Your flight, booking the hotel, and more he probably hasn’t told you because he knows that you have a hard time accepting him paying for everything.

You’d even tried to argue it over the phone, and he’s said “too late, babe. It’s already done.”

Now, with a week ahead of you, you’re in New York City of all places, trailing your suitcase behind you as you exit the airport in search of the car Eddie said he’d send for you. Black, tinted windows, guy in a suit standing by it. It’s easy enough to spot when most people around are wearing sweats.

“Hi, you’re here for me, I think?” You say to the man by the car, telling him your name and getting a nod in affirmation.

“I’m Hank, nice to meet you.”

Hank takes your bag for you, even when you assure him you could do it. So, with nothing else to do, you open the back door and slide into the car, door swinging shut behind you. You’d fully expected to be by yourself, and okay with it, too, but you aren’t.

Right there in the backseat with you is Eddie.

You practically tackle him in the seat, surging forward to hug him, leaning across the leather to get to him. You’re not sure what carried you to do it. Maybe it’s the fact that he paid for everything, that he wants you to be here enough to do that. That he wants you here at all.

The wind is sort of knocked out of Eddie when your arms wrap around his neck, your hug crushing in his favorite way. He’s not complaining one bit. He’s so excited to have you here to see this world of his, for you to be able to see something you helped him achieve, whether you know it or not.

So, with a huff pushed from his chest, his arms curl around you, too. Smooth and easy.

“Happy to see me, trouble?”

“I thought you’d be busy,” you say, because his question is already answered with the tiniest squeeze of your grip around him. “And you jerk, you got me first class?”

You draw back into your seat when Hank gets back into the car, unsure of how much he knows or how much he’ll say. Not that you’re ashamed for hugging Eddie, but you’re afraid that he might read things the wrong way and you’ll have to (painfully, achingly) correct him the way you did with Argyle a while ago.

You distract yourself by tugging your seatbelt over and clicking it into place.

“‘Course I did. Had to get the best for you.”

“You didn’t have to,” you say, and looking at Eddie’s face you don’t feel so worried about Hank anymore. You practically forget he’s there. “But thank you.”

“Goin’ soft on me?”

His voice is teasing. He deflects because he can’t exactly tell you that he chose first class, that he covered everything, that he flew you out to him because he’s burying his feelings for you into it all, that it’s easier to do these things without you realizing what it means than it would be to come right out and say it.

He needs more time for that. Time to get brave, to see if you might feel the same. If you might let him kiss you again.

“Maybe I’m just tired. Getting delirious.” You’re really not, but just to be safe you add on a small jest of, “loser.”

Still, your tone betrays you, affection woven into the word.

You share a smile with him, eyes sparkling the way they seem to do when you’re with each other. The glow that only appears when you’re in the presence of someone you like this much, someone you know this well. It says enough.

Turning your head, you look out the window, skyscrapers surrounding you, the skyline flying by as you go. Your mouth drops open a little in awe, the busy streets and towering buildings a far cry from the small town you’re so used to.

While you peer outside, Eddie looks at your face in the reflection of the window, accomplishment blooming in his chest at the widening of your eyes and the look on your face.

Shit, he’s so happy to have you here.

It’s not long until you reach the hotel, the sight of the city enough to occupy you for the drive. Even from the outside, it looks expensive, and you’re about to tell Eddie you can’t let him pay for this again when he stops you, “I already paid for your room, so don’t say anything. Just enjoy it, okay?”

“You’re insane, Munson. Wow.”

He knows you mean it as a compliment; he can pick out the intentions from your voice with ease by now, he thinks.

“Wait until you try out the bed.” Eddie pulls on a beanie he’d had in his pocket, then the sunglasses that had been hanging from the neck of his shirt. “Ready to go in?”

“Hell yes. Need to wash the airport off of me.”

“‘Kay.” Eddie then turns towards your driver, “thanks Hank. And don’t worry about the bag, I’ve got it.”

“Of course, Mr. Munson.”

He opens his door and you follow suit, stepping out of the car and watching as Eddie gets your suitcase from the trunk.

“I can take that,” you offer, reaching for the handle as he walks you towards the entrance.

“Kindly, fuck off, trouble. I got it.”

You hold your hands up in surrender, a little too happy with the way his hand flexes around the handle of your bag, too happy with his insistence to do this simple thing for you.

Even though he doesn’t need to, he stands with you during your check-in process, and he carries your bag over to the elevators and down your hallway, too.

“This is you,” he says, stopping at your room even though you’re the one holding the key.

“How’d you know that?”

“‘Cause I’m right next door,” he says, grinning at you, “I booked it, trouble. We’re neighbors!”

“You’re such a dork.” You’re grinning right back.

-

The crowd’s cheers are piercing. Chants of the band’s name covering every other sound in the venue.

You’re backstage, watching them all warm up in their own ways. Gareth tapping his drumsticks together, Jeff shaking out his hands, Eddie bouncing on his feet. It’s a complete whirlwind of crew setting up, of commanding voices left and right and it’s sort of unbelievable to be standing in the midst of it all.

You move out of the way with an apology when a stagehand moves by you with a guitar. Eddie’s guitar, red and black and the same one he’s been using since he could afford the instrument. The familiarity of it has you smiling.

The memories that guitar must hold, you wonder, the places it’s seen.

With his guitar now over his neck, Eddie turns to you, energy practically rolling off of him, like every shout from the crowd charges him up further.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he says, stepping close enough to talk into your ear, over the screaming and the bustle of the crew. “So fucking glad.”

“30 seconds until you’re on, guys!” A woman wearing a headset shouts.

Eddie pulls back enough to look at your face, but he stays close, his nose inches from yours, his excitement somehow spilling from him and into you. It’s the sort of infectious feeling you get when it’s obvious someone’s doing what they love, when their passion is palpable.

“Break a leg, Munson.”

“Five seconds!”

“See you on the other side, honey.”

Eddie reaches for your hand, gives it a firm squeeze, and then he’s off, jetting onto the stage behind his bandmates. The crowd roars even lowder, enough to leave your ears ringing but you don’t care. You take it in.

It’s one thing to read about it, to see pictures, to see footage on TV, even. But seeing it for yourself is a whole new kind of crazy.

The size of the audience is a far cry from the shows they used to play at the Hideout, the words to the songs being known and sung just the way Eddie had always dreamed. The pride that swells in your chest is huge, a balloon expanding and expanding only you don’t think it’ll ever pop. There’s always more room to be proud of someone you love.

You stand side stage, exactly where Eddie had told you to. Just far enough that the audience can’t see you, hidden by shadows, but close enough that he can see you.

Eddie hasn’t felt this way at a show for a long time. Not to say he doesn’t love every show, because he does, but sometimes the energy will feel different, better, higher. The crowd is a great one, and even more importantly, you’re here.

You’re here and Eddie flicks his eyes over to you constantly during the show because he just can’t help it. The wide smile on your face makes him want to work harder to keep it there, the way you bop along and mouth the words to his music is something he’ll never forget.

You know the words. Of course, you’d known them to the early songs, when his only performances were in Hawkins and you were at every single one. But even now, albums later, you know the words.

And to top it all off, you’re wearing Corroded Coffin merch, a baggy t-shirt tucked into your jeans. God, he can’t stop fucking looking at you.

Between songs, he goes over to Gareth, and then Jeff, speaking into their ears without a mic so you don’t know what he’s saying. But by the gleam in his eyes, you know he must be up to something.

He walks over to the side of the stage where you stand, trading off his current guitar for his acoustic one, even older and worn than the last. The painted letters reading ‘this machine slays dragons’ scratched and faded by now.

You’d been there when he painted them on, giggling at the lopsided way they turned out, pouting when Eddie smeared paint on your bare arm in retaliation.

He’s gone from playing it in his bedroom in the trailer to playing it for thousands of people.

“Alright guys,” he starts, back at his mic. “We’re gonna slow it down for this next one, that sound okay?”

The response he gets is a wave of cheers.

“Alright, alright. Cool.” He starts strumming, chords you recognize right away. “We’ve got a cover for you tonight. I want to dedicate this song to my best friend. This one’s for you, trouble.”

Your eyes are misty with unshed tears. He’s playing your favorite song, the only one you’d ever learned on guitar because you forced him to teach it to you. Your hands go to your cheeks, warmth bursting through you at his gesture.

And he’d called you ‘trouble.’ Hadn’t used your name because this is something that’s just for you and him. Yours.

Eddie flicks his eyes over to you (again) as he sings, his hands moving with ease on his guitar because he’s known how to play this song for ages. Longer than his own songs, even.

His heart sort of melts at the expression on your face, dripping down his ribs in oozing, pink waves.

Even from where he is, even with the lights beaming down on him, he can see the tears in your eyes, the way your hands hold your face the way they do when you’re overwhelmed. He hopes it’s in a good way, and with the way the words of the song are broken up by a smile on your face, he thinks it is.

After the song, with a quick ‘thank you’ into the mic, Eddie walks offstage, towards you again, to switch his guitar back. Before he puts the other one over his neck, though, he rushes to you.

The arm that isn’t holding his guitar tugs you around your neck into a hug. He’s sweaty and breathing hard, his chest rising and falling where it’s pressed to yours, but you don’t care. You hug him around the waist and squeeze.

“Thank you,” you say, loud enough for only him to hear.

“Thank you, trouble.”

A kiss to the top of your head, and he’s off again.

Eddie’s back at the mic quickly, his guitar in place again. “Alright everyone, back to our regularly scheduled programming.”

-

After the show, Eddie brought you back to the green room with the rest of the band, his fingers wrapping around your wrist as soon as he ran off stage to tug you along with him. Insistent but kind in the way he did it, sure not to pull too tight, turning his head to check on you behind him along the way.

Even when you’re worlds away from his, from the fame and the constant travel and the fans, Eddie makes you feel like you’re a part of it. Like you belong here.

There’s a couch pressed to one of the walls in the green room, chairs set up around it for more seating, a table of snacks and water bottles set up near the door.

Conversations happen all around you, crew members, photographers, big paper writers, but yours is seperate.

After the well-deserved congratulations on a great show, you, Eddie, Gareth, and Jeff found your places on the couch, heads turned towards each other. You’re on the edge, Eddie next to you, his thigh, arm, shoulder, all squished against yours.

It’s nice. The warmth of his skin against yours, the post-show adrenaline that has all three of the boys in a great mood.

After all, Gareth and Jeff were your friends, too. Not in the way Eddie’s your friend, of course. You don’t think anyone could ever come close. Being with all of them reminds you of when you’d watch them practice in Jeff’s garage in high school, sitting sideways in a chair they’d left in there for you, legs kicked up on the armrest.

“What a show,” Gareth says. Eddie’s told you before that a good crowd makes a huge difference, and it’s clear in the way the three of them talk about it, the way they smile and shake their heads at what they’ve accomplished.

“I mean, someone flashed me their tits, so it’s definitely a good night,” Jeff, on the opposite end of the couch from you, sighs happily.

You scrunch your nose.

“Gross, dude.” Eddie leans over Gareth to shove Jeff’s shoulder. “There’s a lady present.”

“Come on! She hung out with us in high school. Peak outcast status.” Jeff defends himself. “She’s hardly a lady to me. No offense.”

“None taken, Jeff.” You lean forward to address him, smiling kindly.

“See? None taken, asshole.” Jeff shoves Eddie back.

By doing so, he’s pushed even closer to you, his weight against you further. Eddie stabilizes himself with a hand on your leg, his palm warm through the fabric of your jeans. He leaves it there even when he sits normally.

“So,” Gareth grabs your attention with your name, “how’s Hawkins? Missing us horribly?”

“Let’s just say, the Hideout is pretty boring now.”

“Good riddance.” Gareth teases, giving Jeff a high five.

You know it’s mostly a joke, but it also isn’t, really. These boys weren’t treated right there. Ridiculed for having passions and hobbies that weren’t so conventional. They’re right to be glad to be away, to be glad to be loved now.

Still, there’s a dull ache at the thought that Eddie feels the same. That Hawkins is too small, too awful for him. That you’re not enough for him, having your life there.

Then, you’re reminded of his hand on your leg, and you shake off your thoughts, covering them with a smile.

“You know,” Jeff, the most lacking of a filter of the group, says, “this guy’s a whole lot happier now that you guys are talking a bunch.” Eddie, he means. You know by the way he ruffles his hair.

Eddie shifts in his seat. He wants to tell Jeff to shut up, to stop because he could say too much, could give away too much. He knows he loves you, and he will tell you, he will. But not like this.

He settles for a glare in Jeff’s direction.

“Oh, I’m not-” you start, flustered at the idea of being any kind of reason for Eddie’s happiness, especially being one that causes a noticeable shift.

“No!” Gareth jumps in, “it’s true. He used to grump around the hotel room and yell at us for having the TV on too loud-”

“I did not yell.”

“-and now he doesn’t care ‘cause he’s on the phone with you, anyways.”

“Right!” Jeff again. “First thing he does when we get to a new hotel is lock himself in his room and call you. It’s soooo cute.” He pitches his voice up for the last bit, resting his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands, a faux-innocent smirk on his face.

Eddie thinks he might punch Jeff right now. He thinks that often but he’s actually, really considering it (he’s not really, but still). He sounds like an absolute dork, the way Jeff puts it, even though he’s right. Relying on your voice through the phone to make his nights, counting down the minutes until the next time he can call.

He’s so pathetic over you. So pathetic and so in love he doesn’t know how he didn’t see it before.

He musters an: “okay. Shut up.”

That’s when you look at Eddie, who’s spinning the ring around his thumb on the hand that isn’t on your leg, looking down at his lap all sheepish. There’s a tinge of pink spreading from his cheeks to the tips of his ears that you can see with the way he’s wearing his hair, a messy bun at the back of his head.

It’s fucking cute. You want to kiss him so bad for it. Instead, you hold the hand that’s on your leg, nudging your shoulder into his.

-

The next day comes and goes. You have the day to yourself to explore New York, wearing in your platform mary janes and doing enough walking to wake up a little sore tomorrow, but it’s great.

You eat brunch by yourself in a quiet cafe, your current read open on the table in front of you. The rest of the day is spent being a full-on tourist, which you’re a little embarrassed about, but it’s a big city, and you definitely aren’t the only tourist around.

Well, the rest of the day minus dinner.

Eddie couldn’t join you because of some press stuff, feature pictures for a magazine, a couple of interviews, a small writing session. Of course, he’d invited you along, but you didn’t want to get in the way, and there were things you wanted to see. It worked out.

Nonetheless, Eddie made sure to meet you for dinner, because there was no way he wasn’t going to do anything with you at all. He’s got about 4 days left, he isn’t going to waste a second.

He’s there before you are, signaling you over before the hostess can offer to seat you, and you send her a smile as you make your way over to Eddie’s table. He’s gotten you both a booth in the far corner, an echo of the table you’ve claimed as yours at Benny’s back in Hawkins.

Eddie trusts this place, it’s private and small enough to have no sign or awning outside. A good place to hide in plane sight.

Despite the reminder, the place is much different than Benny’s. Fancy enough to have you kicking Eddie’s leg under the table at the prices, which he tells you not to look at, tells he’s buying and you don’t have to worry. You still stick to the cheaper side of the menu.

So no, it’s not Benny’s, but Eddie still steals food from your plate, still smudges whipped cream on your nose after convincing you to split some dessert with him.

Over bites of cake he tells you about the song they were working on today—leaving out that he’d written a lot of lyrics about you—and how far they’d gotten.

“It’s not done, but it’s getting there.”

“Does that mean you’ll play it for me?” You ask.

“Mmm, I don’t know.” Eddie taps his chin like he’s contemplating. “You did kick me earlier.”

“Hey! I’ve kicked you before without consequence.”

“You know you’re really not helping your case here, trouble.”

“I’ll hear that song, Munson.”

And it’s left at that, because you will. Eddie can't really say no to you (has he ever been able to?) and he misses playing his songs for you before anyone else. Minus those involved in making it, obviously.

With the bill paid by Eddie, after much stubbornness, the two of you slip out the front doors with twin smiles on your faces, so saccharine it’s insane that the two of you are mostly oblivious to the other’s feelings.

Your smiles fade quickly when a wave of camera flashes go off on either side of the doors, surrounding the entrance to the small restaurant.

There’s a rock in Eddie’s stomach, sinking in dread that you’re with him as this is happening. It’s not what you signed up for and it’s not something you deserve.

“Eddie, over here!”

“Who’s the girl?”

“Is that your girlfriend?”

The shouts come all at once, overwhelming and intimidating and you have no idea what to do. Your hands shake a little, your heartbeat a rapid thumping in your chest.

Eddie’s instincts kick in quickly, though, having been through this many times before. This time, it’s worse. This time, there’s you.

He tosses an arm over your shoulder and rests his hand on the back of your head, gently urging you to look down so that they don’t get your face, his other hand grabbing your arm lightly to take you to the car where Hank waits.

Eddie opens the back door and urges you in first, shielding the entrance to the car as you shuffle across the seat to give him room. He slams the door as soon as his feet are inside, telling Hank to head back to the hotel.

Your chests are rising and falling in tandem, a matching rhythm. Scared, overwhelmed, anxious, and all for different reasons. You, from the completely foreign situation. Eddie, from how badly it could’ve fucked things up.

“Shit.” He breathes, and then his hands are on your face, cupping your cheeks to turn you towards him. “Shit, honey. I’m so sorry. I had no idea they’d- are you okay?”

His touch is grounding, his immediate concern being you and your feelings casting a warmth over your nerves, the sun breaking through the clouds of your mind.

“I’m okay. It just startled me.” You grab his wrists in hopes that your touch can help him, too. “But I’m okay. Don’t be sorry, Eddie. It’s not like you called them there. This isn’t your fault.”

“I didn’t think anyone knew me there.”

“People know you a lot of places, mister rockstar.” You’re trying to ease the atmosphere, but the worried furrow in his brows stays put. “Eddie, I’m okay. I swear.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop with that.” Then, another attempt at brightening things, you try to joke, or maybe you’re thinking out loud. “What if they call us a couple?”

Your voice has a teasing lilt to it, but there’s more underneath it. For once, Eddie can't exactly read what it is.

His thumbs stroke over your cheeks mindlessly, his eyes flicking all over your face. So fucking pretty, he thinks. And so his reply isn’t what you expect, but he can’t help it when you look the way you do and when you’re fighting off his concerns with only a few words.

“Would that be so bad?” He says it more than asks it.

It’s your turn to study him, the endearing blush to his cheeks, the way his bangs fall over his forehead, the way his eyes flick between your own.

“No, I guess not.”

For a split second after you speak, you think he might kiss you again, his face barely inching towards yours, his fingertips easing into your hairline.

And then Hank coughs and Eddie’s hands are gone and yours fall away from him, too.

Eddie clears his throat, tugging at the collar of his shirt. Be normal, he urges himself. So, he offers, “how ‘bout I play you that song?”

And when you get back to the hotel, that’s exactly what he does.

-

It’s hours later and you’re still in Eddie’s room. There was the song—the fucking song, played acoustically since that’s all he has in the room, his voice and his guitar and his lyrics—and then a movie paused halfway through so that you could change into pajamas in your room, and then the rest of the movie.

Now, it’s idle chatter, the paparazzi speed bump gone from your minds by now, replaced by a debate on whether or not the movie you just watched was good.

“It was so bad, Eddie. Are you joking?”

“You just don’t have the sophisticated movie knowledge to know good cinema when you see it.”

He’s totally lying. The movie was awful, but Eddie likes to argue with you. He likes the way you scrunch your nose or eyebrows at his stupid jabs, likes the way you’ll smile the entire time because you’re never actually arguing.

“‘Sophisticated movie knowledge,’ he says. Like you haven’t just rewatched the same twelve movies your whole life.”

“And those twelve movies are all amazing!”

“I think to consider yourself sophisticated you’ve gotta watch twenty-five movies. At least.”

“Since when are there rules? Knowledge is knowledge, babe.”

“There are rules since now. We can’t go around letting just anyone say they know movies.”

“Who’s we?”

“Um…”

“Hm?” Eddie urges, a smile growing on his face because he hasn’t had this much fun, hasn’t felt this light, in a long time.

“I don’t know.” You give up, shrugging your shoulders. When a puff of breath leaves Eddie’s mouth, the failed holding back of a laugh, you lean over and shove his shoulder. “Shut up.”

You’re sitting cross-legged in the middle of Eddie’s hotel bed. It’s huge, a king size with like ten pillows and crisp, white blankets. It’s a mess now, the blankets shifted and wrinkled, some pillows tossed on the floor, one on your lap.

“I totally just won that.” Eddie says.

“You did not! That movie fucking sucked, Munson.”

He’s sitting near the end of the bed, half facing you, half facing the TV. After you speak, though, he fully twists towards you, shifting so that he’s leaning on his hands in front of you.

“You wanna say that again?”

“That movie sucked.”

“Okay. That’s it.”

And then he’s on you, his fingers pushing into the soft of your tummy to tickle you because he knows that’s where you’re the most ticklish. This is how he used to win all of the arguments.

“Jerk!” You try to push at his shoulders, words broken by giggles, but he’s relentless. “Get off me!”

“Admit you lost.”

“No.”

“Well, then. Your fault.”

Eddie keeps going until you’re breathless from laughing and attempting to overpower him. As a last resort, you bring your knee up and hit him in the thigh. Being the dramatic he is, Eddie clutches his leg and falls onto the bed like he’s been shot.

“Ow, fuck. How am I gonna perform in these conditions?”

“Oh, stop.” You’re laying beside each other now, your face turned towards Eddie, his up at the ceiling in his fake pain. “I just won, by the way.”

His act falls away after you say it, and you think he’s gonna strike again, tickle you or make another silly counterpoint. Instead, he turns towards you, too, your noses a whisper apart, breath hitting each other's faces.

“I fucking missed you, trouble.”

“Yeah.” Your chest is rising and falling steadily, still recovering from Eddie’s tickles, maybe from his words, too. “Me too.”

Your hair has fanned across your cheek from the movement, and Eddie reaches out to push it away, behind your ear. His fingertips are gentle, featherlight, but they have your face nudging into the touch anyways. Like you couldn’t help it, like it’s an instinct.

And then, in a moment, a simple blink, Eddie’s pushing himself closer, putting his lips on yours. Eddie’s kissing you again.

His hand settles itself fully on your cheek, fingers splayed over your skin, sure to leave behind streaks of gold. Or, at least, you’d think they would. The feeling sparkling in shimmers across your cheek.

Your brain takes a second to catch up, but when it does, you’re already kissing him back, your fingers tucked into his guitar pick necklace to tug him closer. It’s easy, you think, to kiss him. Easy to want this, to move your mouth in rhythm with his.

You’ve only kissed once before, but it’s like you’ve been doing it a lifetime with how right it feels.

Eddie hadn’t even realized he was going to kiss you until he was doing it. His thoughts were all you you you and then his eyes were on your mouth and then he was there, kissing you.

He nudges his knee between your legs, shuffling himself even closer to you without breaking it because he’s afraid that if he pulls away, it’ll be the end and he doesn’t want that. He could kiss you forever, could kiss you until he’s completely sick, until there’s no oxygen left in his lungs because all he can breathe in is you.

Your other hand holds his arm, fingertips just under the sleeve of his t-shirt, his warmth seemingly seeping into you through your hand, spreading down your arm and into your stomach and everywhere.

You really like kissing him. You like it so much.

Eddie’s wondering how he’ll ever let you go home after this, how he’ll be able to say goodbye to you at the airport and go back to touring with his bed empty and nobody to give him shit over a movie. Luckily, he doesn’t have to deal with that now.

No, now it feels like he’s dreaming. Because he’s kissing you and it’s even better than he remembered from last time and he wants to be allowed to do this always.

He leaves it at kissing, this thing too delicate to risk, too long spent building up to this and he wants to enjoy every moment. He’d be content if all he could do is kiss you, because it’s the best thing he’s ever had. You’re the best thing he’s ever had.

It’s long before either of you pull away, a push and pull of your mouths, breaking apart for less than a second before jumping back in. When you do pull away, it’s mutual, both of your breathing coming out in pants, both of your mouths slightly agape, eyes locked on each other’s.

Eddie moves first, pulling you over so that your head is tucked beneath his chin, nose pressed against the neckline of his shirt. He’s got a hand tossed over your waist, palm flat on your back, the other holding the back of your head to him.

You fall into place easily, just like you had when he kissed you. One of your hands is wedged under his neck, the other still on his arm. It’s like you’re a set, two pieces meant to fit together just like this.

“I think I won, trouble.”

“Shut up.”

In the morning, you wake up in a similar position, having fallen asleep with the TV humming in the background and the haze of your kiss still heavy over you both.

Now, however, you’ve shifted a little bit. Eddie’s on his back, but he’d brought you along with him in his sleep. Or, you’d followed. Either way, your head’s rested on his chest, your arm tossed over his stomach where his t-shirt rides up to reveal a patch of skin.

You’re struck with the thought that you’ve shared a bed before, countless times, but never this close. You’ve cuddled before, too, but it’s never felt like this. Intimate, affectionate, more.

You close your eyes and go back to sleep, not quite ready to give this up.

-

When you’d woken up the second time that morning, Eddie was already up, the door to his ensuite shut with light slipping under the doorway. And when he’d walked out with a “good morning, sleepyhead,” it was like everything was normal.

You’d fallen into your routine with him, and now, after not nearly enough time, you’re at the airport again. The last couple of days a blur, your parting ways this morning even more so.

Hank had driven you again, and Eddie made sure to be in the car with you, to squeeze out every second of time left. You’d hugged each other in the back seat, whispered ‘I’ll miss you’s and ‘thank you’s for the week you had.

The ache slipped into you again, the uncertainty of when you’ll see him next, the feeling of missing him that lingers and lingers.

Still, you’d twisted around and waved to the tinted windows of the car with a smile before going inside, knowing he’d be behind them, really hoping he’d be looking.

Of course Eddie was looking. He peered into the glass doors of the airport until your figure was completely out of sight, until Hank had to ask him if he was good to go. He should have kissed you goodbye, he thinks. Should have kissed you and told you how he felt but he has no idea how. Next time, he’ll say it. He has to.

The trek through the airport is boring, and you’re still early by the time you get to your gate. Hoping to pass time, you head into one of the duty-free shops.

That’s when you see it.

There’s a wall of magazines and newspapers, a whole shelf taken up by a picture of Eddie. A picture of you and Eddie. It’s from that night at the restaurant, and you’re lucky that your face can’t be seen, ducked down and covered by shadows and Eddie’s hand.

Surprisingly enough, the picture isn’t what gets to you, it’s what’s written about it. You drift over and flip to the page indicated on the cover to see the ‘full story.’ It feels like a punch to the gut.

‘Metal Heartthrob Eddie Munson was seen leaving a restaurant in New York City with an unknown woman. How could she get his attention, I’m sure you’re wondering. We’d love to know, too. Is Munson the type to settle for a normie? Or is she only a fling? The second option would make the most sense, we think. Keep reading to learn why she doesn’t fit.’

You slam the paper shut, setting it back on the shelf and standing there like an idiot, your hands shaking a little, your heart in your throat.

“Can you believe it?” A woman says to you, pointing at the damn picture. “He could do way better. I’m just saying.”

“Oh. Yeah,” you offer weakly, walking away and finding a seat at your gate.

It stings when you know you shouldn’t let it get to you, but it’s like every insecurity you’ve had has been splashed onto a page for everyone to see. You don’t belong in his world anymore, you aren’t enough to be in it, he doesn’t want you that way.

It’s a disgusting spiral that eats at you as you sit and wait, as you board your flight, even as you find your seat next to a man who’s already asleep. You can't believe the things people feel okay saying about someone else, and even worse, you can’t believe how they wedge themselves under your skin.

You wrap your arms around yourself, peering out the window and trying to convince yourself that whoever wrote it is wrong, that the woman in the store was wrong. But all your mind can conjure is reasons why they’re right.

You aren’t a model, or an actress, or anything of the sort like the other women Eddie’s dated since becoming the star he is. You never will be.

Worst of all, these last few days you really thought he could feel the way you do, even a fraction of it. You thought that he buried feelings he couldn’t say into that kiss, that maybe, maybe he could be in love with you, even just a little bit.

Now, you feel like an idiot for ever letting yourself think that could be true, your eyes blurring with tears of frustration and a hurt that shouldn’t even be there, but cuts deep.

You’re just friends, it’s always been that way. It’s your own damn fault, really, for falling in love with him. Falling in love with the best boy you’ve ever known, with your best friend, with the only person who makes you feel the way he does.

It’s your fault that you let a tear slip down the slope of your cheek as your plane takes off. You wipe it away quickly.

Eddie feels strange as he lays back onto his hotel bed after dropping you off. There’s a cold present in his room now. The evident and devastating lack of your presence, like the chill that washes over a summer day when the sun is swallowed by a gray cloud.

He already wants to call you, but you’re miles in the air by now.

He really should’ve kissed you goodbye.

-

Eddie ends up calling two days after you get home. He wanted to do it sooner, but the whirlwind got to him, and after a week in one place, it was back on the road. He got caught up, but he has the time now, and he’s been eager to use it.

Your number is practically muscle memory by now, dialed without a second thought. He listens to the ringing, fingers pulling at the threads in the rip of his jeans as he waits sitting on his bed. He counts the seconds until you pick up.

Back in Hawkins, it was hard to believe that only a couple of days ago you were in New York City with Eddie, watching him play, having dinner with him, kissing him. Being home, it feels like the whole trip had been a dream.

You fell into your life here quickly, a full day shift at the library, a visit there from Dustin with a stack of overdue books and questions of how Eddie’s doing.

It’s impossible not to think about him, still. So of course you’d pick up the phone on the chance it’d be his voice on the other end.

“Hello?”

Eddie’s head thumps back against the headboard when he hears your voice, “hey, trouble.”

“Eddie.” You were hoping it was him, yet you’re still a little surprised. You shouldn’t be, he’s been calling often for a while now, but you’ve been feeling nervous ever since reading that stupid article. Insecure, stupid, a whole bunch of negatives that won’t leave you alone. But he’s calling, so you try not to think of that. “How are you?”

“Good! I’m good.” He shuts his eyes, tries to picture what you might look like right now. He doesn’t think his mind could ever do you enough justice. “Jeff totally ate shit during soundcheck today, you would’ve loved it. You’re good?”

“It’s kind of weird being back here.” You say, your honesty spilling the way it does over the phone. You’re braver this way. “But I saw Dustin today. He asked about you.”

“Yeah?” The grin on Eddie’s face is immediate, your voice soft and somehow exactly what he needed. “Did you tell him I’m still the coolest guy ever?”

“Sure,” you drag out the word.

“Whatever. I totally am.” There’s a lull for a second, the sound of sheets ruffling on his end as he shifts on the bed. “You said it was weird being back?”

It’s hard to read his tone through a phone, but he sounds sincere as ever, his voice softer when he says it. You shift a little, too.

“A little. Just getting back into things, you know?” You’re on your back now, eyes fixed on a spot on your ceiling. “New York is a lot different than Hawkins.”

Eddie’s not sure what makes him think it—your voice going quiet, the way it takes you a little longer to answer—but he can tell that something’s off. You sound sad, and there’s a twinge in his chest at the thought of you upset. You’re undeserving of it, and he’s got the urge to break the rules of the universe and jump through the phone to be there for you.

“Yeah, it is. You okay, honey?”

The question strikes you. You hadn’t known that you’d been acting any differently, but you suppose that’s how it goes. You can only hide so much, and those words splashed on a page about you have weighed heavy on your mind since you’d seen them.

But you can’t bring yourself to tell Eddie any of it. What if he hasn’t seen it? Worse, what if he has and he doesn’t want to bring it up because he agrees?

So, you come up with a lazy excuse, “oh. I’m okay, Eddie. Just a long shift today.”

“You sure?” Even though he can’t see you right now, there’s something in him telling him you aren’t being honest. It’s like he’s got a sense for these things when it comes to you, embedded in his heart the way you are.

“I’m sure. I’m just tired.”

He knows that there’s something else to it, but he won’t pry. All he wants to do is help, so he lets himself say what he’s been thinking since you’ve left. “Is it pathetic that I already miss you?”

A smile flickers on your face.

“If it is, I’m pathetic, too.”

“At least we’re in it together, then.”

After you eventually hang up, Eddie can’t fight off the feeling that something's happened. He’s gotta figure it out, he wants to fix it, to pull away any pain you might be feeling. He’d take it for himself if he could.

So, although he’ll get endless shit for it, he finds Gareth and Jeff watching TV in the living room of their suite and figures he might as well ask them.

“Hey,” he starts, standing in front of the TV despite their groans to make sure they’ll listen. “Did either of you say something to her? About… um, you know.”

The way that he doesn’t even have to speak your name for them to know who he’s talking about says enough about the ‘you know.’ He’s slightly worried that they’d told you how he felt about you and it scared you off. He really, really hopes that isn’t it.

“About you being grossly in love with her?” Gareth checks, though he surely didn’t need to.

“Yes, asshole.”

“Nope. I didn’t. Jeff?”

“No, man.” Jeff huffs, “and you’re blocking the TV.”

“I know! I need you guys to help me out.” Eddie starts pacing in front of the TV. He explains your phone call, how he felt like something was wrong, that you were upset. They both listen, though Jeff occasionally tries to lean around to see the screen. “So? What do you think?”

“Maybe it has to do with that article,” Gareth says.

“What article?”

“You know, the one with that picture of you two leaving that restaurant.”

“There’s a fucking article about that?” Eddie twists his ring around his thumb. Shit.

“Oh, yeah,” Jeff points towards the small table near the entryway of the room, “it’s over there. Kinda brutal.”

“You idiots didn’t think to tell me?”

“Um, it’s pretty popular, actually.” Gareth shrugs. “Thought you would’ve seen it by now.”

“How are we idiots for helping you?” Jeff asks.

Eddie flips him off over his shoulder as he goes into his room, shutting the door behind him. He’s still pacing, flipping the pages to find the right one. His stomach sinks when he lands on it and skims the words written.

‘Is Munson the type to settle for a normie?’

He makes an actual sound when he reads it. Something of disbelief and shock. He knew that having the life he does comes with these things, and he’s learned to deal with them when it comes to comments about himself. But you? No fucking way.

If he was ever lucky enough to have you, he wouldn’t be settling, he’d be the happiest he could ever be, probably. Maybe it’s time he finds out.

If you’d read any of this, if you believed it, he can’t help but feel at fault. Sure, he didn’t write it, he didn’t publish it, but he brought you to that restaurant and he’s the reason that paparazzi was there. If there’s anything he can do to fix this, he will.

So, he makes a plan. He calls his manager and gets himself a spot on the next flight out to Indianapolis. He can miss a studio session or an interview, it doesn’t matter.

This is far more important. You’re more important.

-

Eddie doesn’t pack anything for the flight. He doesn’t have the time nor the concern to do it. He’s got the beanie on his head, sunglasses over his eyes, and a hoodie pulled over it all.

He doesn’t take the time to get a driver, so he takes a cab back to Hawkins once he lands in Indianapolis. It’s already dark out, probably way too late to head straight to your place but he does it anyway. No time to waste.

Slamming the cab door, he tells the driver your address and tells him to drive quickly. He gets a thumbs up in return and that’s it. Eddie’s forced to sit there, his leg bouncing anxiously as he waits impatiently to get to you.

He should be tired, should be fighting heavy eyelids and yawns, but he isn’t. Eddie’s determined and nervous, eager to get to you and agonizing over whether or not this is the right move.

But, he’s made his choice. He’ll stand by it. There’s no denying the way he feels, and he’d do anything to make you feel okay.

Eddie spends the drive trying to figure out what he’ll say to you. His thoughts are a mess of speeches and phrases that just don’t sound right. He doesn’t think there’s a way with words that really conveys the extent of his affections, but he’s going to try. He figures a four letter word is a good place to start.

His palms are sweaty as the cab pulls up to your place, your apartment in a building that’s been converted from its original use. Eddie grabs cash from his wallet and hands it to his driver, telling him to keep the change.

He stands there and stares for a minute, taking off his hat and sunglasses now that he’s on a quiet, deserted street. He’s got no idea what time it is, no idea whether he’ll be waking you up or not, but he huffs and heads to your door, lucky that he can access it from outside.

With his fist raised, Eddie takes as big a breath as he can muster, and knocks on the door.

You were having a hard time sleeping, tossing around uncomfortably until you gave up and grabbed the book from your nightstand. You’d been mid-chapter when you heard the knocking, almost convinced you’d imagined the sound.

And then it comes again, four quick taps on your door. You don’t have a single guess for who it could be, but you set your book face down and kick your blankets off, turning on your light on your way to the door and squinting at the brightness.

You’re not sure what exactly you were expecting to find on the other side of the door, but it wasn’t this. Wasn’t him.

“Eddie? What the hell are you doing here?”

He takes a second to look you over, his hands stuffed in his hoodie’s pocket. You’re wearing a pair of floral pajama shorts, ruffled at the hem, and your fucking Corroded Coffin t-shirt. Yeah, he made the right choice coming here.

He avoids your question. “Can I come in?”

“Oh! Yeah, sorry.” You open the door further and step aside, closing it after he steps inside. “Aren’t you supposed to be on tour?”

“I needed to see you.”

Needed to. Like it’s bigger than a want.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, leaning against your door. Eddie’s not far, only a step away from you.

“That article was bullshit.”

“What?”

He takes the step, his feet toe to toe with yours now. You’re forced to tilt your head up due to his proximity, his eyes unwavering and still, the way they always are, soft. You fiddle with your hands behind your back.

“That article about us, it was total bullshit.”

“I don’t-”

“I know you saw it, and it was wrong. You aren’t a fling to me, you aren’t a fucking normie. You’re my favorite person in the entire world.”

Eddie’s found, now that he’s started, he can’t stop pouring things out. He pushes your hair from your face, trails his hand lightly down your arm until he’s tugging yours from behind your back, weaving his fingers between yours.

“My favorite, okay?” He continues, his stare flicking between your eyes, like he’s making sure you believe him. “Whoever wrote that is a shithead and I don’t believe any of it. None, honey. I’m sorry that I put you in that position, you didn’t deserve it. But it’s bullshit.”

You can feel your heartbeat pounding in your chest, your fingers squeezing around Eddie’s as he speaks like you’re making sure he’s real. That he’s here and he’s saying these things and he’s looking at you the way he did before he kissed you.

“You-�� you clear your throat, voice weak at first from his words. “You came all the way here to tell me that?”

His free hand tugs at the neckline of his hoodie, his gaze flicking down to your hands and then back to your face. “Yes.” There’s the lightest blush to his cheeks, “among other things.”

“Other things?”

You don’t want to guess, shouldn’t let yourself get your hopes up and up and up. But your mind does it on its own accord. What if he-

“I love you,” he rushes it out in a breath, but you hear it all the same. “I’m in love with you, trouble.”

“You are?”

Your eyes are wide, your hand tight around his, and Eddie smiles because he can’t help it. He made the right choice.

“I’m in love with you,” he says again. “I have been for a long time, I think. I only figured it out a bit ago, but it doesn’t feel new.”

“Me too, Eddie.” You barely register your own words, your grin spreading wide or the way you laugh in disbelief. Finally. “I love you, too. For a long time. But I knew it.”

His heart squeezes. He wonders how long, how hard it must’ve been for you to keep it inside while he took forever like an idiot to register his own feelings. But he’s got you now, and that’s more than enough.

“Well, you’ve always been smarter than me.”

“Can I get that in writing?”

And then his free hand is cupping your jaw, his nose nudging yours. “Shut up.”

He kisses you then, broken by your smiles but the best one yet. Because it’s out there: you love each other. It isn’t a question of whether or not, it’s a certainty. You’re in love and you can have this. You have this.

Your hand that isn’t clasped in his holds the back of his neck lightly, your fingers tangled in his curls, keeping him close.

Eddie doesn’t go far when he pulls away, his forehead tilted against yours, his hand still on your face. The corners of his eyes crinkle from his smile, and you can’t help but kiss him again. A peck, another, and another.

“I’ve got like 36 hours. Think I could stay?”

You nod, your smile mirroring his. Lovesick, totally stupidly happy.

“Yeah?” Eddie swings your joined hands lightly. You nod again. “Good. I would’ve had to walk back to the trailer if not. I probably would’ve died.”

“Always dramatic, Munson.”

“But you love me anyways.”

“Guess I do.” Your fingers gently tug at tangles in his hair. “You’re sure about this? Even with the distance?”

Eddie lifts his forehead from yours to make sure you can see his face fully. His thumb smoothes over your cheekbone.

“I’ve never been more sure. Ever.” And he hasn’t, not even when he knew he wanted to do music forever. Because he’d give it up for you if he had to, though he knows you’d never ask him to. “I’ll call you so much you’ll get sick of me. And you can come with me when you have time, and I’ll come home when I have time. I want this so much, okay? So much.”

“I do, too.” You look at your hands, thinking about how you’d always thought they were meant to be holding one another. “You’re okay with dating a normie?”

“Fuck that.” His hand on your face tilts it just a little, urging your sight onto his. “You’re my trouble. Nothing else matters.”

My trouble.

“And you’d really come back to Hawkins more for me?”

“I’m going to.” Eddie understands why you’re asking. In the past, he’s gone quiet, he’s gotten caught up, but after tonight? He’s never gonna hear the end of it from the band, that’s for sure. “You’ll totally get sick of me, you’ll see.”

“Don’t think that’s possible.” You look at his face, the eyes you could never forget, the dusting of stubble across his jawline. A face that’s been on TV and countless magazines, albums and posters. “I always thought you outgrew this town.”

“I never outgrew you.”

You know there’s more to figure out, more worries to be had, but you’re in love and you can say it. That’s what’s important now, that’s what you’ll enjoy.

The shoebox that sits in your closet has served you well, but you won’t need to pick at the scraps anymore. Won’t need to hold onto this boy through magazines and newspapers.

My trouble.

When you kiss again, you’re sure that you’ll never want to be anything else.

♫♩♪♬

hi!! thanks so so much for reading these two <3 i’ve had so much fun with rockstar!eddie and i hope u guys did too!!! if you did, a reblog would mean so much <3

i don’t usually do tag lists, and i probably won’t again after this, but the demand was high for this one (like, crazy! thank u so much!) so here’s the rockstar!eddie tag list

@5sosjay @paleidiot @emma77645 @onceuponathreetwoone @copycatkillerfics @munsonmecrazy @r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e @lbhmoon @icant-hangout-imdrumming @freakymunson @blackcatwoman @l3xiluve @littlestarfighter03 @yujyujj @totally-bogus-timelady @kimmi-kat @spitefulscreenwriter @amira0303 @mylovelycrazyworld @esme-viridian @pippipsquirtsquirt @brassreign @madneedshelp @emilyslutface @alana4610 @crystalr @kirisuteg0men @hesvoid34 @cutiecusp @nerium21 @angel-ann-pops

[corroded-hellfire]

Prompt Day 26: Tour Date

Word Count: 998

Rating: T

Pairing: Eddie x Reader

CW: None

Summary: Eddie wants to impress a girl he met on tour, but his nerves get the better of him

@corrodedcoffinfest

The little ding of the bell over the door breaks Eddie’s concentration as he steps into the small bookstore. 

“Great,” Eddie mumbles under his breath.

He sighs and shoves his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

“Hi,” a sweet voice greets him. “Can I help you with anything?”

Eddie looks up, intending to say yes, but his mouth simply hangs open silently when he sees you standing there. In your lightwash jeans and forest green sweater, Eddie thinks you’re the cutest thing he’s ever seen. 

“Yeah. Uh, yes.” Eddie steps closer and holds his hand out. As he does, he realizes this isn’t the way most customers greet employees of the shop they’ve just walked into. “I’m Eddie.”

To his delight, you shake his hand without making him feel like an idiot, and introduce yourself in kind. 

“What can I help you with, Eddie?”

“Well, my friend’s birthday is in a few days. I was going to buy him a book in the last city we were in, but I couldn’t find a bookstore anywhere in Charleston. At least, not near our hotel or venue, anyway. But now I can’t remember the name of it.” Eddie realizes he’s rambling but, for the life of him, he can’t figure out how to stop. 

“That’s okay,” you tell him. “Do you remember what it was about?”

“Kind of. My friend had us watch the movie version. It was about these kids. They, uh, got in trouble for some reason and two of them ran away. Hid out in an old church or something.”

Your face lights up. 

“Did it have Rob Lowe in it? And Ralph Macchio?” you ask.

A stab of annoyance strikes Eddie as you name the pretty boys in the movie.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Eddie says, trying to inject a little more enthusiasm than he feels. 

“The Outsiders. That’s one of my favorite books,” you say, gesturing for Eddie to follow you. “It shows that it doesn’t matter if you’re an outcast as long as you’ve got other outcasts who have your back.”

“That seems pretty much like the friend group we have,” Edde says as you pluck the novel off a shelf. 

“Before, you said your hotel and your venue. What do you do?” you ask as you hand over the book. 

“I’ve got a band,” Eddie says. He knows he probably should’ve said “we’ve got a band” but this could make him seem cooler to you. “We’re touring now.”

“And you stopped in little ol’ Asheville, huh? Hope we aren’t too boring for you,” you say. 

“Not boring at all,” Eddie says with a shake of his head. “In fact, I’m really starting to like it.”

He gives you a smile and feels a rush of satisfaction when you duck your head shyly. 

“Would you like to come to the show tonight?” Eddie asks, figuring it’s now or never. 

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you affirm, giving him the prettiest smile Eddie has ever seen.

“Great.” Eddie lets his thumb stroke against the pages of the book in his hands.

“Oh, let me get that for you.” 

You walk back around the counter and press a few buttons on the cash register. It gives Eddie a few moments to take in the features of your face, and he finds he likes each one more than he did the last. 

“Thanks,” Eddie says when you hand him back the book in a small paper bag. “I, uh—”

“It’s my lunch break,” you blurt out. “D-Do you want to have lunch with me in the cafe next store?”

Eddie gives a toothy grin and nods.

“I’d love to.”

“And she likes metal.”

Jeff, Gareth, and Frank have been hearing about you nonstop for the last hour. 

“We’ve gotta play some Poison. They’re her favorite,” Eddie says. 

“You wanna change the set list?” Gareth asks.

Jeff shrugs and answers before Eddie can.

“We always rotate some of our covers. And we know how to play a handful of Poison songs. What the hell? Sure.” 

After going through their repertoire, they decide to play Nothin’ But a Good Time. 

When it’s time to go on, Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever felt this particular combination of nervousness and excitement before. The venue they’re playing in isn’t very big, so it probably won’t even take the duration of the first song for him to figure out if you’re there or not. God, he hopes you are. 

Their opening song is called Bite the Hand and until the first chorus, he doesn’t see you. But when he lays eyes on you, a grin brightens his face, even though his fingers stumble over the chords. 

Luckily, no one in the audience knows it was a mistake since it’s an original song. But the guys in the band know, and Eddie can feel their gazes burning the back of his t-shirt. 

Just gotta shake it off, Munson. 

Unfortunately, it only goes downhill from there. He skips a song, so he starts playing something entirely different from the rest of the band, his voice cracks a few times, and he smacks his chin against the microphone, causing feedback to whine over the speakers.

But worst of all, Eddie thinks, is when they play Nothin’ But a Good Time. He made such a big fuss about playing it, but then he goes ahead and sings the first verse twice instead of the second one. 

After the show, Eddie is nervous to face you. All he wanted was to impress you, yet he just played one of the worst shows of his life. So it surprises him when you throw your arms around him and tell him how much you enjoyed the show.

“It was great! You’re so talented.”

From behind the stage curtain, Jeff, Gareth, and Frank give each other disbelieving looks. The drummer shakes his head in bewilderment.

“Jesus, if she liked that, she must be down as bad as he is.”

[gayest-classiclit]

Classic Literature Sexyperson Tournament; Round 1

propaganda:

Quincey:

quincey deserves #1 sexyman prize. he is the token cowboy. in a gothlit book. his first instinct when in danger in to randomly shoot through windows to (scare the shit out of) protect his friends. he decided he would literally die for a group of people he met like 3 hours ago because they seemed nice enough. he's texan for christ's sake. tropes: angst (dead), bait, distinctive voice, LGTBQ+ coded (dracula polycule is canon bram told me so), himbo (-ish), well dressed (cowboy).

Dracula:

owwsaawoagghb. older gentleman who is very regal and polite and is a fucking vampire how much sexier can you get

Obv everyone knows vampire sexy. The sensuality of drinking blood is *chef's kiss*. But I just really wanted an excuse to share this one thing, that isn't even related directly to the novel. So, my junior year of high school we read Dracula, and then our class went on a field trip to see a local theatre group perform the Dracula stage play-- and EVERY TIME Dracula came on stage, his neckline would progressively dip Lower and Lower (like. Comedically so) until he was soooo close to showing just straight up tiddie, but still juuuust barely not-- the tease was immaculate and istg it was doing Something for everyone in the audience. It was transcendent. An awakening. Even all these years later when my old high school friends and I bring it up, the only detail we can remember from that performance is Count Dracula's plunging neckline and that's Gotta count for something right

[kodydrs]

The Arrangement Baby - Gojo Satoru

a/n: don’t shoot. I swear part 4 is coming. So take this as a token of my love. Idk why, but i loved writing for Gojo. He’s so bbygirl. might as well reblog / comment, and feel free to send in a random request / ask

this is set like, just before gojo goes to Shibuya, so no angst (yet lol)

warnings: gojo x fem!reader, husband!gojo x wife!reader, arranged marriage, established relationship, soft smut, mdni, fxm, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), pregnancy kink (maybe?), trying to get pregnant, they’re so in love your honour, kinda ooc gojo

ib: jasminn’s bot on Chai.

request: yes / no (but dedicated to @lvtilzs who has been here since day one)

‘You don't want this and I know you don't. Women can never really hide their emotions well, can they?‘ He jokes. It immediately earned him a glare, to which he waved his hands in defence. ‘Hold on. It's for the good of our clans, isn't it? I think we should think of it that way. You don't gotta love me, but you love your family, right?‘

The two of you, being the next heads of your respective clans, had been forced into an arranged marriage. It was supposedly to 'help build bonds’.

You sigh, seated on your knees with your hands on your lap.

‘If it builds bonds with the clans, then I will marry you, Gojo Satoru. But I cannot promise I will be able to learn to love you.‘

‘Hmm, I can respect that, my dear. But remember, we are bound together now. We must find a way to make this work, for the sake of our people.’

‘And we will. With our clans joined in this marriage, the strength of our family's will work.’

‘Indeed, my love. But don't forget that there is more to a marriage than just strength. There is also passion and desire. And as the head of our families, it is our duty to ensure that those needs are met.‘

You don't say anything. You just hum and nod. You hadn't looked at your husband. You'd only been informed he was to be your husband a few days prior.

Satoru took a step closer, his olden aura intensifying as he did so.

‘I must confess, however, that I'm rather excited for this night. To consummate our union and begin our lives together.‘ His eyes met yours for the first time since you'd sat down.

'Mhm.' You hum again, 6 eyes staring at you. 'I hope it will be for the best.'

Satoru chuckled softly, reaching out to gently brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

‘It will be, my love. Together, we'll make this work.‘

You close your eyes, focusing on his touch. You reach for his hand, running your thumb over his knuckles.

Feeling the warmth of your touch, Satoru squeezed your hand gently.

‘We have our entire lives ahead of us, filled with shared experiences and growth. Remember that.‘ For the first time, a smile crosses your face and you feel a sense of warmth in his presence. ‘That's my girl,‘ he whispered, leaning in to press a soft kiss against your forehead.

You lean into his kiss, watching as he pulls back. ‘Satoru.‘

‘Yes, my love?‘ He asked, his voice soft and inviting.

‘Let's take this slow, ok?‘

Satoru nodded, understanding the request.

‘Of course, sweetheart. We'll take things at your pace.‘ His eyes held a promise of patience and care as he reassured you.

It had been almost 6 months since your marriage. You and Gojo were currently living together near the Highschool in order for him to be able to teach his students. You had a simple life where you stayed at home, going on a few missions for your clan here and there.

You were sitting in your living room, reading a book when the front door opened.

‘My dear, I'm home,‘ Satoru called out as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

‘I'm in the living room.' You called, placing your book down.

‘Alright, sweetheart,‘ he replied with a soft chuckle before walking into the living room. His eyes met yours as he approached, a warm smile on his face. ‘How was your day?‘

'Boring. Not much happened. There were no missions for me.'

‘Well, that's good news,‘ Satoru replied with a gentle smile. ‘You deserve a break from all that danger and chaos.‘ He walked over to sit beside you on the couch, his arm brushing against yours in a subtle show of affection.

You leaned against him, tracing his knuckles. It was a habit you'd picked up. There was just something mesmerising about your husband's hands.

'How was your day?'

‘It was... fine.' His eyes followed your hand on his, watching you trace the bones. 'I may have to go away for a little while though. Something has come up.'

'Oh... ok.' It wasn't that Satoru didn't go away often, but you couldn't deny the house felt empty when he wasn't around. 'Do you need me to do anything while you're away?'

‘No, sweetheart, don't worry about it.‘ he reassured you with a soft smile. ‘I'll be back before you know it.‘ He leaned in to press a gentle kiss against your forehead. ‘Now, have you eaten?‘

You shake your head, leaning into the kiss.

‘Well, then,‘ Satoru chuckled softly, ‘Let's fix that. I'll make us something delicious.‘ He stood up from the couch, his strong presence filling the room as he moved towards the kitchen. You also stand, following after him.

‘What would you like?‘ Satoru asked as he pulled out a skillet from the kitchen drawer and began to heat it up on the stove top.

'I don't mind.' You reply, sitting upon the counter as you watch him get to work

‘Okay, consider it done then.‘ Satoru chuckled softly as pulled out some vegetables from the fridge and began to chop them up with quick, precise movements.

It wasn't long before the meal was ready. You thanked him for the meal and both sat at the table to eat.

'So, what's this mission for?'

‘Well, there's been a sudden increase in occult activity around the city,‘ He explained as he took a bite of his food. ‘It seems that some powerful spirits have been unleashed, and we need to find out who's behind it.‘

You nod, taking another mouthful of your food.

‘Will it be a hard mission?'

‘It might be,‘ Satoru admitted with a frown. ‘But don't worry, I'll make sure nothing happens to you.‘ He reached out and gently squeezed your hand reassuringly. You nodded, a hint of anxiety creeping up on you. After finishing their meal, Satoru cleared the dishes and began to clean up while you sat at the table, lost in thought. He could feel your tension but didn't want to push you further into worry just yet.

‘Hey,‘ Satoru said softly, coming up behind you and placing his hands gently on your shoulders. ‘Don't think about that right now. Just enjoy this moment with me.‘ He leaned down to press a gentle kiss against the nape of your neck.

Satoru slowly pulled away, his hands remaining lightly on your shoulders. You hummed, holding his hands over your shoulders. ‘Satoru?‘

‘Yes, love?‘

‘Do you want to have a baby?‘

Silence filled the room, and Satoru froze, his heart skipping a beat. He hadn't expected that question, especially not now.

‘I...,‘

‘You don’t have to answer right now. It’s just an idea.’

‘No. No. I… I do.’ He said carefully.

‘Mhm.‘ A soft smile covered your face. ‘That way, our clans really would be connected. A child with blood from both clans.‘

Satoru couldn't help but return your smile, his eyes meeting yours. ‘Yes, that's true,‘ He agreed, his voice filled with warmth. ‘But I'd rather have a baby because you want to have one. Not just to further strengthen the bond of our clans.‘

Your smile grows and you turn to face him. ‘I want to have your baby, Satoru.‘

His heart skipped a beat as he stared into your eyes, feeling a surge of emotion swell up within him. He leaned in, his lips barely brushing against yours in a gentle kiss. ‘Thank you.‘

Your hands took his and brought them to his face, reciprocating his kiss. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, pouring all of his feelings for you into the exchange. He pulled away, breathless and giddy.

‘I love you,‘ He whispered, his eyes filled with adoration.

Your eyes widen slightly. In your many months of marriage, neither of you have once said those 3 words. But it made your heart warm, and your husband was practically glowing.

‘I love you, too.‘

Satoru smiled wide, pulling you into another tender kiss.

‘I'm so glad you said that,‘ he murmured against your lips. He pulled away, still holding your hands in his. ‘We should head upstairs,‘

‘Mhm.‘ You agreed, taking his hand.

Together, the two of you made your way upstairs, their hands entwined like a lifeline. They shared a tender moment as they reached the top, exchanging loving glances before continuing down the hallway to their bedroom.

You'd had sex a few times since marriage, but something about this time felt different. It felt more meaningful

As they undressed, Satoru couldn't help but admire your naked body, his eyes tracing every inch of you. He loved you with all his heart and soul and wanted to make this experience together beautiful and eternal. You pulled him down, kissing him passionately with your chests pressed together. which made him moan softly, his body responding eagerly to your touch.

He wrapped his arms around you, deepening their connection as they continued to share their newfound love through passionate kisses and tender caresses.

‘You're so beautiful, Satoru.' You moaned, losing your hands in his white hair.

‘Thank you, love,‘ he whispered against your lips, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on your skin. He gently pushed you down onto the bed, following you down as his lips and hands explored every inch of your body.

Quiet whimpers filled the room, and you propped yourself onto your elbows, watching him travel around your skin. His eyes met yours, filled with love and desire as he continued his sensual exploration, his kisses trailing down your body while his hands roamed gently over your skin. His heart pounded in anticipation of the connection they were about to share once more.

You brought one hand to his head, stroking through his hair again. As he felt your hand in his hair, he leaned down, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, suckling gently as he moaned against your skin. His other hand began to caress between your legs, teasingly rubbing against your sensitive folds. You moaned breathlessly, back arched.

‘Oh, Satoru,‘ you breathed, arching your back even further as he continued to please you. Your body trembled with anticipation as he moved to probe against your entrance. slowly pushed inside, filling you with his love and desire. 'Fuck. You're good to me.'

‘I am yours.‘ He whispered against your skin, their bodies moving together in a rhythm of love and need. His fingers dug into your hips, urging him deeper inside as they became lost in their passionate connection.

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, holding on tightly like he'd run away if you didn't. Satoru held onto you just as tightly, his lips finding the sensitive skin behind your ear as he continued to thrust into you. Their bodies moved together in perfect harmony, creating a symphony of moans and gasps that filled the room.

'Please, Satoru.' You whispered, voice breaking. 'Please let me have your baby?

Hearing your plea, Satoru's heart swelled with love and desire. He pulled out of you slightly before pushing back in harder, claiming you completely once more. ‘Our baby,‘ he corrected softly against your skin, his voice thick with emotion. You nodded rapidly, hiding your face in his neck as you reached your high, a symphony of moans filling his ears.

He held you close, their bodies moving together in a frenzy of passion. He felt you shudder beneath him, your walls clenching tightly around him. Your body rocked back and forth, following in time with your husband's thrusts.

‘I'm here,‘ Satoru whispered, feeling his own climax building within him. He could feel the head of his cock brushing against your sweet spot, teasing and taunting you both.

'I-I can feel you.' You whimpered, tears wetting your eyes. His breath hitched as he felt you tremble under him.

‘Our baby will be so loved,‘ he whispered against your skin before giving one final, powerful thrust that sent them both over the edge.

A flurry of moans filled the house, both of you holding each other like you're going to disappear.

Gasping for breath, Satoru held onto you tightly as his seed filled you completely. Their bodies trembled together, still joined in intimacy even as their lungs tried to catch their breath.

You looked at him, panting deeply, but still able to plant a gentle kiss to his cheek.

'Our baby will be the strongest. Just like their daddy.’

Satoru returned the kiss softly, his eyes filled with love for you. He leaned in closer, nuzzling your neck as he held you close.

‘I love you,‘ he whispered against your skin, his heart racing from their passionate lovemaking.

You laughed quietly, rubbing his shoulders and back. 'Don't say it too much, Satoru. It'll lose its meaning.’

He smiled at your teasing remark, feeling the warmth spread through him. He continued to hold onto you, savouring the closeness they shared after their intense lovemaking session.

‘I couldn't help myself,‘ he said softly, his eyes still locked on yours. Hands held his face, caressing his skin.

'I love you too, Satoru Gojo.'

© kodydrs

all rights and reserves are copyright to kodydrs on tumblr. this material is not to be copied or translated, and is not to be posted on any other platform.

[nonotnolan]

Group Project

"I don't care if most people skip this step," Aiden said, taking a pre-swap photo with Nathan. "I still don't completely trust Swapper technology, just... I don't have many other options. Professor Carmichael has been riding our asses all semester, and this damn group project is worth 50% of my grade. I, uhh... I appreciate you doing this for me."

"You're the one paying me," Nathan said, grinning into the mirror with two thumbs up. "As long as you follow the basic rules, I don't really care what sort of extra safeguards you want to throw in. And don't worry, I think it's cute. Commencing swap... now."

Aiden barely had time to panic before he found himself staring up into his former face. The biggest shock was feeling Nathan's coiffed hair brushing against his forehead. The nerd came well recommended by Frat Row-- at this point, he probably spent more time outside of his body than inside of it. Certainly it hadn't been Nathan spending time at the gym to earn these arms. He had graduated college last year, but instead of getting a full time job, he hired out his services to anyone who needed to pass tests or make presentations. At $500 per swap, the legality was the only barrier to making it into a career. "So, you remember the rules, right?" said Aiden's body.

Hearing his voice like that was incredibly odd. "Yeah, we've got to stay swapped for 48 hours or else the Campus safety test will know we used our Swappers. You aren't liable if you get caught, I already paid you up front, no refunds. We had to jailbreak our Swappers to override the 12 hour standard limit, so I'll get arrested if I try to contact customer service. Anything else I'm missing?"

"No hard drugs, but any amount of sex and alcohol is fair game," Nathan said, as he reached into Aiden's waistband to fondle his new package. "Nice dick, my guy," he said, giving him another thumbs up. "That's gotta be, what... at least seven inches?"

Aiden blushed, deeply embarrassed to see his body acting so corny. "A bit under seven and a half, yeah," he said. "Aa-anyway, I'll be at the house if you need me."

"Have fun," Nathan said, giving him an exaggerated wink and slapping him on the shoulders. "I've swapped with several of your brothers. I know you're gonna have a good time."

Preston was outside, taking advantage of one of the last warm afternoons before fall turned into winter. "Damn, bro, you hired Nathan? Looks like someone was worried about failing their classes. So, who are you?"

"It's Aiden," I said, feeling very self conscious about my newer, frailer body as I found myself staring at Preston's hairy chest.

He just laughed. "Wait, Aiden? I didn't even know you had a Swapper! Damn, dude, you must be desperate to pass."

"I... yeah," I said, avoiding eye contact. Was Nathan a gay man? That was fine if he was, just... did that sort of thing stick to the body? He'd never really noticed the cleft of Preston's chin before, but he was-- Nathan's body was-- incredibly horny.

"A word of advice, Newbie," he said, sitting down his book. "Most of the Swapper nerds, or at least the ones worth hiring? They're gay men. Don't try to fight it. Just enjoy the ride. You'll be back to your no-homo self in 48 hours." He flexed his chest, letting his pecs bounce. "Or maybe you'll be a bit more worldly," he said, laughing as Aiden tried not to sneak a glance. "Getting a compliment from a gay dude feels real good."

Aiden practically sprinted toward the main doors, eager to escape the awkward situation. "Yeah I'll keep that in mind thanks bye," he muttered, cursing Nathan's gym shorts and their inability to hide an erection.

"Well, damn bro, look who it is! Someone hired Nathan!"

Sitting over in the lobby were two other guys who were using their Swappers for the weekend. The guy in black was probably Carter-- the dude had a lot of Puma gear, and it was possible he'd changed shirts at some point. Besides, it was hard to imagine anyone else scowling that hard. The blonde guy, however... that could be anyone.

"Uhh, hey... guys..." Aiden said, quickly learning that Nathan had a foot fetish. "You, uhhh... you also have a group project tomorrow or something?"

The blonde guy just laughed, closing his laptop as he stood up. "Oh, I've got a group project in mind, alright. I was just telling Carter here, even though both of us look like twinks, neither one of us are really bottoms. But with Nathan's body here, well... I think that solves our problem. Don't you?"

He nodded, following wordlessly after the two men as they entered the nearby library room for more privacy. Just enjoy the ride, Preston had said. Aiden suspected he was going to be doing a lot of riding tonight.

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

It’s time! I have unblocked the tags, seen the movie, and have thoughts about War of the Rohirrim!

There are some extremely generalized thoughts here, and then more specific and detailed thoughts are below the cut to shield them from those who want to avoid all discussion of plot. Also, I have literally *just* seen it, and it’s a lot to take in what with visuals, story, music, etc. So I reserve my right to change my mind later!

I liked it! I thought it was fun and engaging, and getting to revisit treasured sentimental things like the visuals of Meduseld or the Rohan theme from the original LOTR score are just like cheat codes to my heart.

It has canon deviations. In some cases, I can see why they wanted to make changes for purposes of effective movie storytelling (changing the location of certain events, for example). In others, I think it was probably just a desire to throw in something that folks will recognize from the movies/books even though the story didn’t need it. It doesn’t upset me, but your personal mileage might vary.

There’s been a lot of attention paid to Héra as the main character, but there are other cool women characters that have been added as well. That being said, I think the movie is still a little confused/confusing in what it thinks about the role of women in Rohirrim society and leadership. And, you know, Tolkien was confusing about it, too, which is why we are still having the “what really is a shield maiden?” discussion in 2024. But it’s notable to me nonetheless.

I went to an AMC but, alas, they did not have the war hammer popcorn buckets. ☹️

More specific opinions, kind of firehose style:

I liked Héra a lot and the old lady from the Hornburg, but I really liked Olwyn! I wish they would have made her Helm’s wife/Héra’s mom so that we could have avoided the Dead Mom trope. That would have also explained how/why Olwyn was wielding such significant authority/command over the defense of Edoras and the Hornburg even though she was positioned solely as someone in service to Héra.

They went WAY easy on Helm in the opening sequence with Freca. I can understand why — they don’t want to make Helm unlikeable right from the jump — but Helm of the books was more of an instigator of that mess than Freca (Helm swung first!!!) and he was a much bigger dick about it. I think it would have been interesting to see the other iteration, which would have been a more complex, nuanced take on Helm and given him even more chance for emotional growth.

That being said, I really liked how they handled the whole “Helm wanders off into the snow each night and scares the shit out of Wulf’s army” stuff. I thought it was really cool and very effective. Two thumbs up.

I was very appreciative that they made the Dunlending general who was aiding Wulf (Tragg? I think? Nope, Targg!) a real person — smart, strategic, not bloodthirsty, with real humanity — rather than the one dimensional “savage wild man” stereotype that has so often been the Dunlendings’ narrative fate.

OKAY Fréaláf!!! Loved that guy. Handsome, noble, loyal, progressive, showing up on the ridge with the ringing of horns just in time to turn the tide of a battle. Legend.

Miranda Otto says in the opening narration that you won’t hear about Héra in the histories and legends from that time (which you’ve gotta say, right, since she’s an invented character that is literally not in any of the histories and legends!). But I wish they had followed up on that directly at the end with a more concrete explanation for WHY she’s not remembered. Fréaláf loved her and respected her! He wouldn’t have erased her from the story even if she had ridden off to some uncertain adventure with Gandalf and never returned again! So I was left a little bit wondering still, “what happened???”

EDITING TO ADD: I cannot believe I forgot to say how glad I was that the movie seemed not to care about Héra’s romantic life at all. She says very clearly that she’s not interested in getting married, and of course Wulf doesn’t like that. But we don’t spend time delving into what she actually means or why she feels that way and we don’t have her reach some weird heteronormative realization along the way that she DOES want a man even if it’s not Wulf. It’s just stated and then we move on. Maybe she’s a lesbian, maybe she’s aro/ace, maybe she just has other priorities and concerns right now. Whatever her deal is, the movie is content to let it be without drama or judgment. And I liked that.

Stopping there because this could get quite long and I’m still thinking things over, but that’s my start!