#fds fanfic

[futuristicdoormats789]

Water guns at the ready

#rvb #rvb19 #red vs blue #rvb epsilon #rvb sigma #when you writing self insert rvb fanfic and the devil on your shoulder keeps trying to make you include your dead girlfriend #ok look idk if sigma is actually trying to do that #i dont even know if its actually sigma in the prologue but hey #i just thought the idea of epsilon spraying sigma with a watergun was funny #now if somebody could please draw sigma sulking like a wet cat that would be an excellent addition #my art #fd art

[skyward-floored]

Whumptober Day 20: Found family, Blanket

*shuffles feet*

...in my defense, I almost entirely finished this yesterday, I just wasn’t about to go trying to edit and post it at like 11:30 at night (though this note probably would have been a lot more interesting if I had lol).

Anyway. Continuation to day 17! I apologize for the delay and hope the wait was worth it 😓

Day 17

Read on ao3

Warnings: same as day 17, injuries, torture mentions, a short nightmare, just bad times for Twilight

————————————————————

Getting out was a blur.

Link forced himself to stay awake as the leader of the heroes (had he even said his name? ...If he had he couldn’t remember) carried him, but focusing on much of anything was difficult. The ever-present pain weighed him down like a heavy load, old scars and new injuries adding endless layers of suffering, and even just being carried in someone’s arms was agony.

There was the leftover burn from the magic too— though the chains that had secured him were gone, the manacles were still on his wrists and the collar was still around his neck, and they ached, his whole body still shaking from the ordeal of removing the chains.

It was a struggle not to just pass out.

But the part of him that still screamed not to trust stay on alert be prepared for him to come back was stronger. It had been honed from countless jarring awakenings, pain ripping him back from already restless sleeps, and so he stayed awake, no matter how badly he wanted to rest.

The man holding him shifted his grip as he went up some stairs, and Link felt his breath hitch as some of his injuries were nudged. The man whispered an apology, and gently squeezed one of the few spots of skin that didn’t have an open wound on it.

Link flinched anyway.

The touch immediately retreated, and Link was torn between being relieved and crying at the loss of it.

Part of him still expected them to suddenly turn on him, the kind touches becoming bruising ones, gentle hands turned to claws and knives. But... he also craved it. He desperately wanted somebody to pat him on the shoulder and hug him and run their hand through his hair, but any of the touch he’d received so far had been like torture.

He truly couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt a touch that didn’t involve pain in some way. He could barely stomach it now, no matter how well-meaning, and he hated it.

Was there anything left the Shadow hadn’t taken from him?

Voices suddenly rang down the hall, and Link stiffened, straining his ears to try and figure out who— or what they were.

One of the other heroes who’d gotten him out (the one with the Master Sword, he thought. He really needed names) called out, and soon there were unfamiliar faces and words being exchanged and questions directed at him and all he could do was close his eyes, overwhelmed by the sudden amount of people surrounding him.

How many were there?

“... got Legend pretty bad, but we beat him off and he disappeared,” a polished voice spoke, and Link twitched an ear his direction. What was he talking about? A legend?

“I’m fine,” a sharper voice cut in, and Link thought it seemed younger then the other one. “You didn’t need to use that fairy, that was our last one!”

“Well what was I supposed to do?”

“Save it for the reason we came here in the first place! He’s way more injured than I was!”

“Legend,” a softer voice spoke up, sounding exasperated, “...you were pretty bad. And you know we don’t take chances with injuries caused by the Shadow.”

A sick feeling abruptly surged over Link at the name, along with an intense hatred and fear and horror and too many emotions for his mind to handle at the moment. Link’s breath stuttered against his will, and the man holding him frowned.

“You don’t think the Shadow is still here, do you?” The small hero with the colorful tunic asked, and the voices paused.

“Probably... not,” Link croaked, and they all looked at him.

He swallowed.

“Do you know where he is?” a man in a deep blue scarf asked, and Link exhaled, gathering his strength.

“No,” Link managed to get out, and the voices stayed quiet. “Probably not. But he usually... usually powered ‘self before... fights.”

“...powered himself?” a younger voice asked in an anxious tone, and Link closed his eyes again. Hadn’t they known? Or at least figured it out based on what they’d seen?

All he was was a battery.

“Thank you Link, I’m sorry we brought it up,” the leader apologized, and Link made a noncommittal noise. “We’re almost out, hold on.”

They began moving again, and Link caught several people looking at him, though most of them stopped when they realized he’d noticed. A teenager with a stripe of pink in his hair didn’t though, and Link found himself staring, curious about the look of him. He gave him an awkward little nod, and Link tried to return it, though he wasn’t sure if he succeeded.

They were all so different, were these really heroes like him?

The Shadow had mentioned other heroes once or twice, but Link usually had no clue what he was talking about, or if he did, refused to say anything.

Besides, he was usually too busy screaming to listen anyhow.

Something bright shone out of the corner of his eye, and Link turned to look at it, his heart speeding up at the sight of a large entryway. The group hurriedly went through it, and Link was almost blinded from how bright it was after they walked through.

He blinked furiously, needing to see what was going on, and finally his eyes adjusted and he looked around in shock.

Sunlight.

Faint, barely-there, dim autumn sunlight that struggled to shine through the trees, but the sight of it nearly made Link sob.

He was outside.

He could see sunlight shining through yellow and orange leaves, eventually joined by the sound of birds and other creatures as they went along, air that wasn’t stale rushing past his face and making all his injuries hurt more but he didn’t care a bit.

He was out.

He was crying he realized, and he closed his eyes, overwhelmed by it all.

It wasn’t a trick. He’d never gotten this far the few times he’d been brought out, they were really who they said they were, they must be, and they’d gotten him out of the darkness.

Someone might’ve said something to him, but the overwhelming sensation of being outside had finally pushed Link to his limit, and he gave up on his fight to stay awake.

Darkness swept him away, it’s touch more gentle then he’d felt in a long time.

(...)

The heroes didn’t stop traveling until they were plenty far away from the oppressive ruins where they’d found Link, the trip passing in almost complete silence.

Link had passed out in Time’s arms not long after they’d finally exited, tears on his face, and Time couldn’t help but be somewhat relieved.

Watching Link remain in an almost stubborn state of alertness, ears twitching towards any sound, flinching when Time adjusted him, had been agonizing to watch. His body desperately needed rest, but he’d been stubbornly refusing it until they were out.

He’s certainly one of us, no doubt about that, Time thought with a sigh.

Sky grabbed a bedroll the moment they found a safe place to stop, and Time carefully lowered Link onto it, trying to avoid any injuries. He had several on his back, but they set him down as softly as possible, and Link didn’t wake.

“That’s really him?” Wind asked in a small voice as Warriors moved over to carefully look over all of Link’s injuries, cursing under his breath more than once.

“This is him,” Time replied quietly, trying to clean some of the blood and dirt out of Link’s hair. Now that they were out of the ruins, it was even more obvious how badly Link was in need of being cleaned up and cared for, and Time focused on not being overwhelmed by the task.

What all did he go through in there?

“What happened to him?” Legend said in a voice full of quiet horror, and Wild harshly kicked a rock into a tree.

“What didn’t?” he bit out in a fragile voice, and Sky put a hand on his arm, saying something that Time didn’t catch.

Warriors accidentally brushed a hand against Link’s collarbone then, and his eyes shot open, nearly throwing himself backwards away from the touch.

“Get away!” he snarled, voice hoarse, and Warriors immediately backed up.

“Whoa, easy,” Warriors quickly reassured, putting his hands up. “I’m only checking which of your injuries need to be cleaned so we can give you a potion. We don’t want anything healing inside them.”

Link glared at him in suspicion, but when Time moved into his line of sight, he relaxed a little.

“He’s helping, Link, I promise,” he reassured, and Link slowly relaxed, though he remained awake. Time glanced around at the other heroes as Warriors finished his examination, and saw that most of them were either looking at Link, or pointedly not looking at him as they worked on setting up camp.

It seemed none of them were quite certain how to deal with seeing one of their own in such a state.

Wild came over when he noticed Time watching them all, and he looked at Link, uncertainty on his face.

“Can I help at all?” he asked, voice stronger then it had been, and Time looked over at Warriors.

“These all need to be cleaned, and it’s not going to be easy for him,” the captain reported quietly, looking over his chest. “The faster we can get it done the better.”

“Link, we need to clean you up before we can heal you,” Time said as he knelt at his side, and Link gave him a bleary look. “It won’t be pleasant, but it needs to be done.”

Link breathed out and nodded, looking up at Time with shadows under his eyes.

“Go ahead,” he whispered.

Time gave him a faint smile, and Wild knelt beside him as they got to work.

It took a long time scrubbing all of the dirt out and disinfecting the injuries Link was coated in. They focused on cleaning the actual wounds, but Time knew Link would need the rest of himself cleaned up at some point, dirt and blood and all sorts of grime coated on his skin.

But that can wait.

Link was stiff throughout the entire process, trembling when they got to certain injuries, and trying not to cry out when they used the alcohol Warriors had provided to disinfect. The worst part was his face, which Time carefully washed up, but Link was nearly in tears by the time he finished cleaning the slice that cut right through the dark lines on his forehead.

But they finally finished, and Link sagged, his breathing shaking. Hyrule came forward then, and offered to heal him, and Link gave him a curious look.

“It’s a healing spell, it’ll be more thorough than a potion,” he explained. He faintly lit up his hands to demonstration, but Link immediately recoiled from the light.

“No, no n-no magic!” Link breathed, a flicker of terror in his eyes.

Hyrule immediately backed off, and Link’s cheeks flushed as he calmed down.

“I... I’m sorry, I-I...”

“No, I understand, that’s okay,” Hyrule said kindly, and Link swallowed and looked away, cheeks still red.

“Potions will be enough,” Time said peaceably, and Hyrule took out a few, handing them to Time. Though a fairy or healing spell would be preferable. “Take it slow, Link.”

Sky helped him carefully sit Link up, and Time helped him drink the entire red potion, slowly so as not to overwhelm his stomach. He eagerly sipped at it, and the most intense of his injuries began to knit closed, angry lines and deep gouges, and places that must be barely healed-over stab wounds—

Time exhaled, and lowered Link back to the ground as he finished, anger stirring in his chest.

The Shadow will pay for this.

“Try and get some more rest, Link. You’re safe with us,” Time said gently as he set the bottle aside, and rested a careful hand on Link’s.

He flinched, but after a long moment, slowly gripped it back. His hand shook as Time brushed his thumb over the dirtied triangles on the back, but he didn’t let go, even though Time knew holding on was hard.

You’re safe.

(...)

The next few days trickled by slowly, Link struggling to adjust to life not imprisoned in a hole being used as some sort of dark power source.

His injuries were healing, albeit slowly due to the sheer amount of them, but he was struggling more with the other scars his imprisonment had left him. He still couldn’t handle much touch, or large amounts of food, and he’d rarely sleep for long periods of time, waking up sweating and shaking from memories he hadn’t told the rest of them about yet.

Four made it his personal mission to remove the collar and bands from around his neck and wrists, since all they did was serve as a reminder for all them of the torture he’d endured.

Link wanted them off more than anyone, and he patiently sat through all of Four’s attempts at removal. The smithy finally succeeded with the help of some of Legend’s items and tools, Link nearly crying with relief at them gone, but the pale scars underneath the metal were almost worse.

They couldn’t be removed.

Time tried his best to help Link adjust, but it was hard when he could only give them the bare minimum of what he’d endured, and stubbornly tried to insist he was fine and they didn’t need to fuss over him. Even after he’d wake up gasping from a nightmare, Link would try to muffle his cries in order not to wake anyone, and couldn’t stand even a grounding hand on his shoulder.

It was at times like these Time wished Malon were here. She would know exactly how to comfort the traumatized boy they’d all found themselves with, better than Time ever could.

How do we help him, Malon? he thought one night as he studied Link’s slumbering face. His scars were harder to see in the dark, but Time knew they were there, slashed across his forehead, his chest... and his heart.

How did you ever handle me?

Time didn’t find any one answer, but as time slowly went by, Link did open up, at least a little. As they all explained more about themselves, he was willing to do so a bit too, explaining some of his journey, and telling the dark marks on his forehead actually weren’t a result of his imprisonment, though not exactly explaining what they were from.

His favorite thing to talk about was his home village though, and the longing in his voice was impossible to miss.

Time would have carried him there himself if it had been at all possible, but they were a long ways away from Ordon, and Link could barely walk across the clearing they were camped in without needing a rest. Taking him home would have to wait, as much as Time disliked it.

But in the meantime, the other heroes did their best to help Link as well, Wild figuring out what was easiest for him to eat, Warriors and Hyrule dutifully checking up on his injuries. Wind liked to tell him stories whenever he was struggling not to dwell on memories, sometimes getting Four to tell a few, and Legend even laid out his weapons and offered to let Link borrow one, until they could get him a sword of his own.

Sky often just let him hold the Master Sword, Link’s hands clutching the hilt as he sat in silence.

It seemed to comfort him, often when the rest of them couldn’t, and while Time couldn’t relate, he was glad it helped.

Time could also tell it was killing Sky not to be able to comfort Link with touch, at all, but Link was still working up to anything more then his hand being held. He would just have to do it at his own pace, as hard as it was to watch him struggle.

And things didn’t change in that regard, until all of a sudden they did.

(...)

Link closed his eyes as the tip of a blade pressed against his chin. He wouldn’t panic. This happened almost every day, and he wouldn’t panic. He wouldn’t give the Shadow the satisfaction of it.

“You’re not going to beg today?” he asked almost curiously, and Link licked his lips, tasting blood. “I might even listen, you never know.”

“I’ve never begged,” he said in a cold voice.

He wouldn’t stoop to that level, he’d sworn to himself he wouldn’t. It was one of the few ways he felt like he had a choice in the matter, and he knew it made the Shadow mad when when he remained silent.

He wouldn’t give his captor the satisfaction.

The Shadow leaned in so they were eye-to-eye, and Link stared at the crimson glow of his eyes, trying not to let his breath hitch.

“Well. Let’s see if we can change that, shall we?”

And then the blade flicked down, pain ripping across his chest. At at the same time the metal around his neck lit up like the lava on death mountain, burning into him, searing down the line where the sword had struck, and Link screamed as he felt magic bore into him and sap away every bit of his strength—

He woke up.

Link jerked upright, pain still blinding him, and he might’ve screamed but he wasn’t sure. Darkness was around him, lit only by the Shadow’s glowing eyes and he knew it had all been a dream, he hadn’t been rescued after all and he was never going to get out—

Link breathed heavily, clutching at his neck, certain he could still feel the collar, magic burning into him, feel his strength ripped away as injuries were torn into his chest—

“Link,” a soft voice said, and he heaved in another breath, hands still pressed to his neck. “Link, you’re out, you’re safe.”

He managed to raise his head, and saw Time kneeling carefully beside him, a hand outstretched in a calming gesture.

He swallowed, breathing in another shaky breath, and looked around, slowly recognizing the campsite they’d been at for the past several days. The light he’d seen was the campfire, not the Shadow’s eyes, and he felt relief start to soak through the terror.

He wasn’t there. He wasn’t back.

His breath hitched, and Time moved closer to him, offering him a hand to take if he wanted it.

Link stared at it, then began to shake, feeling suddenly overwhelmed at everything again.

He was out. He wasn’t a prisoner. He was out and safe and he’d been there for so long but he was out but he wasn’t home but he was home, brothers he never knew he had saving him and their kindness made his chest ache because he’d done nothing to deserve it and despite waking them up and slowing them down and pushing away their help they kept coming back and he’d done nothing—

A sob broke out of him as the sheer scale of everything suddenly crashed down onto him, and Time’s eye widened.

Then he leaned forward, and slowly, carefully, put an arm around him.

Link’s breath hitched with another sob, stiffening as the touch settled across his back, but as Time tried to move, he clutched at his arm, silently begging him not to let go. The touch was like fire on his back, but it soothed a part of him that he hadn’t even realized had been hurting so much.

Time hesitated as Link shuddered, then he lifted his other arm, pulling him into an actual hug, tight and warm.

That destroyed any composure Link had left, and he buried his face in Time’s shoulder, crying harder than he had in a long time. The touch all around him was awful and wonderful and agonizing and pure relief, and the sensation made him shake with how overwhelming it was.

“You’re okay,” Time whispered as Link fell to pieces in his arms. He ran a hand through his hair, and Link’s breath hitched on another sob. “You’re okay. I’ve got you, Link.”

Link had no clue as to the last time he’d received a hug, but this one, as messy and awful and painful as it was, was probably the best.

(...)

After that night, Link often found himself in a pile of heroes whenever he went to bed.

Wild would curl up at his side, Sky would end up with an arm flung out on top of him, Wind and Four by his head. Sometimes all of them would end up around him, and Link would nearly cry if he woke up and realized, falling back asleep more deeply then he had in months.

It was wonderful.

He was still struggling to get back on his own two feet, building his strength, still dealing with the fact that he’d always have the scars from his imprisonment, that he still sometimes woke up screaming in the middle of the night.

But he knew he’d have the others to support him, as hard as it was to let them. He still had moments where he’d push them away, when touch hurt instead of helped, when the thought of giving up crossed his mind, and didn’t seem like too bad of an option.

But he wouldn’t give up. Dark Link may have crushed him, but he wouldn’t be kept down, even though at times it seemed nearly impossible.

He would keep going.

And as Link leaned against Sky’s shoulder one night, Time’s arm over his shoulders, Wild and Four sitting leaned up against his feet while the others sat close by, it wasn’t nearly as hard to believe that he might be... okay.

Ordon would have to wait a bit longer, until he’d regained his strength, and could properly swing a sword, but until then...

A hand ran through his hair, and Link exhaled, the feeling of safety like a warm blanket around his shoulders.

...Link could wait.

#not pictured: dink being blown up by the FD next time Time sees him #linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu twilight #lu time #linked universe fanfic #all the links #lu chain #whumptober 2023 #day 20 #fic #found family #blanket #writing from the floor #also not pictured: Link finding horse grass and giving epona many kisses #this is messy but I got emotional writing it and my writing gets messy when I’m emotional XD #plus a lot was written late last night haha... #anyway I hope you guys like it #I wanted to make it even even longer but I had to stop somewhere 😅

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

parenthood killed the rodeo star | famous!rhett x oc

Summary: Rhett's been riding bulls in Montana, Tessa's been curving barrels in Oklahoma, but now they're both in South Dakota with a rodeo on the horizon. So of course the first thing they do is get a hotel room with one, king-sized, bed to share. (wc: 2330)

Warnings: straight filth, 18+ only minors DNI (language, thigh riding, pleasure dom rhett, praise kink, pinv, size kink, no condom be smart unlike these two, rhett liking when it hurts a little, slight cock-warming), fwb situation, idiots in love

✎……listen, i am but a simple whore and sometimes ya just gotta let it out. based off this little post i made where rhett and tessa are both famous rodeo contestants.

✎……MASTERLIST || NEXT INSTALLMENT

Her skin felt burning hot beneath his hand as he trailed it down, down, down her side. Rough fingertips slipping over yellow lace until they came to a halt on her hip. Rhett gently guided her hips to rock against his thigh once more, barely needing to apply pressure as she succumbed to the dripping need between her legs. He could feel a wet patch already forming on his jeans.

Tessa broke away from his desperate, consuming kiss with a whimper, fingers tangling in his hair. She looked so damn pretty in the low hotel room light. Light brown hair like burnt honey tossed messily over one shoulder. Blue eyes hooded and pink lips swollen from too many kisses parted and wet. Rhett leaned back against the headboard and just watched her for a moment. Those muscles in her abdomen rolling and contracting as she moved her hips against his leg all on her own. Just like riding a raging bull. God, he wished he hadn’t thrown his hat off at the door. That too big stetson sitting on her pretty head would be a sight right then. 

God, he missed her. A month was too long. But they had different commitments, different rodeos. And they always knew they would end up together again somewhere down the line. 

Somehow they always did.

His other hand slid up her thigh to squeeze the forgiving but hardened flesh tightly. “That’s it, keep goin’, sunshine.” 

She was getting shy on him now. Leaning into his chest with her face pressed into his collar. No matter how many times they hooked up, Tessa still liked to hide from him. Hold back those noises. Not let him see. But Rhett loved coaxing her out of that shell. Making her fall apart over and over until all her inhibitions were down and she could just be Tessa. Not the famous, million-dollar barrel racer. Just the girl from Wabang, Wyoming getting her world wrecked by the boy she went to high school with. 

So, picking up on her rhythm, Rhett pressed his thigh up into her at just the right time to make her grind down just that bit more pleasurable. And he revelled in the heavy moan that she let slip into the crook of his neck. 

“Sound so pretty, sunny, tha’s a good girl.”

Involuntarily, her back arched, pushing her chest into his as a breathless oh slipped past her lips. Sometimes she hated how Rhett could climb the walls of her and poke at her tender center. Her most vulnerable parts. But really, it was her own fault for letting him in in the first place. He was a piece of home, a comfort, a release…One that she had missed terribly for the past four weeks. Their unspoken agreement when they were in the same city was one she didn’t want to break. One she didn’t want to lose because it wouldn’t just be the piece of home, the comfort, or the release she lost. It would be Rhett. 

Who, despite the growing hardness in his jeans she could feel against her leg, didn’t push it. Didn’t even move besides the hand on her hip and thigh and his leg pressed into her. Who, despite the mutual benefit of their agreement, always put her pleasure first. Always made sure she fell apart as many times as she could take. Until there was nothing left in her head besides him and him only.

So, heart racing in her chest, she reached between them and cupped him through his jeans. Feeling the hard outline of him beneath the rough denim, long and thick and overwhelming. 

Rhett’s grunt quickly turned into a low moan right in her ear, his hips bucking up into her hand. Then he shook his head with a kiss to her hair. “Don’worry’bout me, lemme help you.”

She whined high in her throat, moved against his thigh faster, burrowed into his chest further. But she can’t bring herself to retract her hand. Mostly out of embarrassment that her tactic to get him to finally fuck her didn’t work. But also because the feeling of him was grounding. This physical thing that showed he wanted her too.

But, God, she was getting impatient. She wanted him. Had craved the feeling of him stretching her out and making her his for nearly a month. That feeling of her just being Tessa Abernathy, and him just being Rhett Abbott, two kids from Wabang trying to find some sense of home in one another. Maybe even some sense of love.

Tessa, of course, didn’t know how to articulate any of that. Let alone that she just wanted him to press her down into the mattress and make her forget her own name already. Instead, all that came out was insistent whining into his chest. Her hips working against him harder, her hands pawing at his bare, broad shoulders.

She felt those same shoulders rumble with a chuckle. “Whaddaya want, sunny? Come on now.” 

Threading his fingers into her hair, he pulled lightly and she went without complain, letting him look into her blown pupils with raised brows. Her hips slow to the occasional cant against the large wet mark in his jeans. After a minute of looking at him, wetting her lips and trying to find the words she finally whispered out: 

“Wan — Want you.”

As her fingers reflexively squeezed around his bulge, making him groan. Then he captured her lips in a searing kiss, tongue fighting to lick inside her mouth and teeth nipping at her bottom lip. For a moment, she thought she was going to get what she wanted. But then his hand left her hair and trailed back down to her hip, gently urging her with a push and a tug to get her going again. 

“Soak my thigh like a good girl,” he grumbled against her parted lips. “‘N’ll give ya what ya want.”

A half-frustrated groan slipped past her lips. 

Rhett grinned. “What? Don’wanna be my good girl anymore, sunshine?”

“Wanna be good,” she whispered back, fingers pushing back into his hair she cut in a hotel bathroom back in Texas. 

He smirked again as he pecked her lips, moved her hip a little harder. 

“Then show me how much ya missed me.”

It was like a flip got switched. With a moan and a tug of his hair, she was reclaiming his lips. Possessive and overwhelming but in the best way possible. Rhett whined softly as her tongue slipped past his lips to taste whiskey and chewing tobacco. Her body moved harder, faster. It really was like she was riding a bull. Moving and rolling with every buck. Taking it all in stride. Even when he surprised her by trailing kisses down her neck and sucking at her hardened nipples through the lace of her bralette. 

“Rhett,” she breathed, just on the edge, just a little more. 

“Come on, sunny baby, give it t’me,” he panted back, warm breath enveloping her breast. 

The way she gasped his name as she came had him twitching in her hand still tight as a vice around him. Then, like she weighed almost nothing, he was lifting her from his lap and settling her onto her back on the soft sheets. Gone were the rough motel thread counts they rolled around in when they both first started out on the circuit. Now, they were in a five-star hotel with a view. Now, the sheets were silken and expensive and there wasn’t a slot for a quarter to make the mattress vibrate (a feature Rhett sometimes missed).

Rhett undid his belt buckle, a big one from his latest win in Montana, and pushed his jeans and boxers far enough down for his cock to spring free. Angry and red and dripping precum. He felt ready to burst as he leaned back over her still panting form, his seams on their last threads with his hands on either side of her head. 

“Did so good, sunshine, my sweet baby girl,” he muttered as he pressed kisses all over her face. She only hummed in reply, a happy sort of sound that made him grin against her cheek. “Wanna keep goin’?”

“Uh-huh, please,” she whimpered back, already squirming.

“Well, whaddaya want?” he teased, notching himself against her clothed entrance. “Come on, use y’r words.” 

He couldn’t help but love to tease her on occasion. It made her bashful. Made her cheeks pink to something like cotton-candy in the low light. Even as she wriggled her hips to get him to do what she wanted and her teeth came down hard against her bottom lip. He could see the gears turning behind those bright blue eyes. The words she so desperately wanted to say but couldn’t bring herself to. With his fingers curling into those ridiculous silk sheets, he rolled his hips against her. Watched as her mouth dropped open and her eyelids fell nearly closed.

A sight he thought about almost every night while she was away from him. 

He barely even started the next flex forward of his hips before she squeaked out, “Want you inside me — please!” 

He couldn't resist that, no matter how much he wanted to keep teasing her. As he moved her panties to the side, he dropped his forehead to hers, and pressed his lips wherever they could reach. Then he pressed in slowly, letting out a deep, guttural groan at the feeling of her walls fluttering in a desperate attempt to accommodate him.

“Fuck, y’re tight,” he huffed as he paused, trying not to blow his load right then and there with the way she was squeezing him. 

Tessa arched her back, brow furrowed as she looked down to where they met then back up to his face. “It-It’s been a month, bubs.”

“What? Didn’have anybody t’tide ya over?”

They both knew the answer to that. They both didn’t want to think about the implications of it right then either. 

Rhett stilled again once he was sheathed to the hilt. Just feeling her pulse around him, warm and tight and just what he had been wanting. Listening to her panting where he had her caged beneath him. Struggling to take him. Some whine got caught in her throat as she pawed at his chest. 

“Big,” she gasped sharply. 

It made him shudder, arms buckling with his lips breathing heavy against her temple. “I know, baby, s’okay. You c’n take it. Know you can.”

She whined again as he tilted his hips and ground them into her clit. Trying to help, trying to ease the ache. She knew that. But right then, all she could truly think about was just how big Rhett Abbott was. How did she forget that nearly every single time? How he filled every available inch of space inside her, pressed against all the proper places, until she could feel him in her guts. How those broad shoulders and chest filled her entire view with her below him. Everywhere. All the time. Everything was him. And that meant everything was good. 

“M-Move,” she was finally able to whisper as she hooked her calves over his hips. “Please.” 

The small whine that punched out of him on his first draw back and push in makes her head spin. He moved slow but firm, moving in inches that felt like so much more to her. The once cool metal of his belt buckle pressed against her thigh now felt burning hot — a brand of his own making. 

“Doin’ so good, sunshine, takin’ me so deep,” he praised as he mouthed at her cheek and jaw. 

“R-Rhett,” she whimpered, feeling tears prick at the backs of her eyes as he tilted his hips just right and hit that spot only he had ever been able to find. “Oh, f-fuck, right there. Don’stop.” 

“Can you cum f’me again, sunny? Be my good girl?” he asked, panting and stuttering, pace no longer slow but hard and fast, unable to control himself. 

Tessa barely managed to sob out a yes. Tears streaming down her cheeks that part of her doesn’t know why they have appeared. Was it because it just felt so good? Was it because it was finally them together again at last? Was it because she already knew he was going to be gone in two weeks time? What she did know, what she did understand, is that when he wrapped one big hand around both her wrists and pushed her arms up the bed, she was a goner. Sobbing and moaning and sloppily trying to meet him thrust for thrust. When she reached that high, she crashed into it hard with a cry and an arch of her back and Rhett’s sweaty hair sticking to her neck. 

She barely registered the warmth flooding her as Rhett gave his last few thrusts. And then a few more just because he liked when it hurt. When he was edged towards that overstimulation that made his eyes water. She always wondered if he did that with everyone he slept with or just her. But when he tried to pull out and she tightened around him, he hissed and whined and let go of her wrists to pound his fist into the mattress. 

“Uhn, Tess, t-too much,” he grumbled breathily.

“Wan’you t’stay,” she said, tongue feeling too big for her mouth.

Still breathing heavy, Rhett flashed her a small smile. “Wanna keep me warm?”

“Uh-huh,” she replied, pushing his hair back behind his ear from where it had fallen across his face. “Jus’for a minute. Please?”

They both knew the answer. They both didn’t want to think about the implications of it. 

With some slight manuevering and a few more noises from Rhett, he was flat on his back and she was straddling his hips. Curled up on his chest, listening to the slowing beat of his heart. A piece of home. Comfort. Release…

Happiness. Wholeness. Love.

i no longer have a taglist, please follow @anniesocsandlibrary and turn on notifications for updates. but just because M asked nicely: @ahopelessromanticwritersworld

#oc: tessa abernathy #fic: parenthood killed the rodeo star #fd: outer range #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x oc #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott fanfic #rhett abbott fic #outer range #outer range imagine #outer range fic #ocapp #rhett abbott x tessa abernathy #lewis pullman

[streamafterlaughter]

Fundamental Differing

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nav | chapter XXI | masterlist | playlist | pin board

Chapter XXII: Blood Sugar Sex Magik

tags/warnings (spoilers below the cut!): MDNI 18+ ONLY! angst, drama, confession, tension, ALL YOUR FAVORITES! rockstar!eddie x rockstar!reader, afab!gnc!reader, mentions of reader being bisexual. dual pov

a/n: buckle up people it’s a doozy. i think you’ll like it though.

cw: unprotected p in v, oral (afab receiving), graphic content not meant for people under 18. MDNI, NSFW.

a/n: haha. hey. hi guys. sorry for all that waiting… i hope it was worth it. This chapter is a little different, no prologue flashback, one scene instead of multiple. Decided this deserved its own chapter. a nice lil mindless sex scene for your reading pleasure. thanks SO SO MUCH for reading, and for your patience!

Disclaimer: i do not give permission to repost my work, please let me know if you see my writing posted anywhere else. reblogs welcome and encouraged to support the author!

—

Your POV

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. You were drunk, but not too drunk to forget what you’d said last night.

The sunlight streams through the blinds, giving the room an orange glow. It’s early, but the bed next to you is empty. Understandably. Shit! You sit up, groaning as the movement makes your head throb. You’re in your underwear, and the shirt you’d worn to the bar last night. You can feel the underwire of your bra digging into your flesh. There was absolutely no reason to go that crazy last night, not if this is the aftermath.

As you’re gaining the courage to stand, the door swings open, and you catch Eddie’s eyes for a millisecond before he looks to the floor, face beet red, breakfast burrito clenched in his grip.

“Sorry, shit, I thought you would have left by now.” Eddie tries to leave the room, but you stop him before you know what you’re doing.

“Wait! Wait,” He stops, slowly stepping back into the room. “Eddie, I am so sorry.” You blurt the words out before you can chicken out. “That was so unfair to you. I was so wasted and I was celebrating, and I wanted to tell you about it but I-”

“Y/n,” Eddie’s voice is calm, firm. “Slow down.”

You take a deep breath, centering yourself. Your head has stopped spinning since Eddie’s appearance in front of you, but you try not to make too much of that. He’s dressed in his usual attire, a pair of black ripped jeans, beat up sneakers, and a well worn band t-shirt. Today’s choice just so happens to be the homemade, one of a kind Death Dance Approximately shirt you’d given to Eddie a lifetime ago. He’s since cropped it right above his navel, exposing his midriff, including a tattoo you’d forgotten existed: Your initials on his hip bone.

Shit!

“Okay,” You start, unsure of how you’re gonna dig yourself out of this one.”I want to apologize.”

Eddie’s face contorts, confusion carved into his features. He leans against the wall, still so far away from you.

“What for?”

You gesture loosely to the air. “Well, you know, everything. Last night.”

“Everything, huh?” If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he sounds hurt.

“It wasn’t fair. I was drunk, I shouldn’t have barged in here, put you in that position.” You trip over yourself, feeling your throat tighten. Do not fucking cry right now.

“Well,” Eddie draws the word out slowly as he pushes off the wall and towards you. “I can only accept that apology under a certain condition.” He looms over where you sit on the edge of the bed, surrounding you. He smells freshly like cigarettes and mint, clouding your brain as he fills your senses.

“And what would that condition be?” You try to sound unbothered, but your words come out meek, nervous.

“If you mean it or not.”

You gape at him, unblinking, waiting for him to crack, to say “Nah, I'm just kiddin’! We don’t have to get into this right now!” But he doesn’t. He takes another bite of his breakfast instead before tossing it on the dresser, completely unfazed by your silence.

“Do I mean that I'm sorry?” You’re playing very, very dumb right now.

Eddie isn’t willing to drop it, though. “Sweetheart, c’mon. We’re adults. I thought we were over this tiptoeing shit.” He cocks his head to the side, eyes rolling.

“I-” You huff, flustered with the way his neck flexes.. “Look. I didn’t want it to happen like that.” You look at him, determined to get through this without actually admitting anything. “I didn’t mean to say it.”

“Why not?” Eddie shrugs, like this is no big fucking deal.

–

Eddie’s POV

He really hopes you can’t tell he’s sweating. He can feel his heart in his throat, choking him with every breath. He keeps his eyes on you to focus. He can’t let you go again. Not after those words have left your mouth.

“Why not?!” You shake your head at him, frustration practically bursting out of your ears. Good, he thinks, you deserve to squirm a little. “How about, because this is what happened the first time? We moved too fast, we didn’t think, and look how that ended up! Or, how about, you’re supposed to be getting well, and the last fucking thing you need is me distracting you. Or, because if this doesn’t go well, we still have another month on the road together! And the fans, what are they gonna say when-”

“Stop.” Eddie shakes his head, kneeling on the floor in front of you. He should be pissed, but he can’t bring himself to be even a little upset. He has the upperhand now, and all he wants is to hear you say it again. Sober, this time. “Please, just tell me if you mean it.”

–

Your POV

I should lie to him. It’s not a good idea to tell him, not right now. You could take it back, this is your chance to make everything go back to that uncomfortable, tension riddled “normal” you’ve become so used to with Eddie. Things would be so much easier if you could just lie to him. But the way he’s looking at you, with a hopeful discretion, chocolate eyes wet with unfallen tears. makes every rational thought slide out of your brain, only leaving room for the way he’s pleading with you, wordlessly, as his hands grip yours tightly, hopefully.

“I mean it. Of course I fucking mean it, Eddie.” You barely get the words out before he’s climbing on top of you, hands letting go of yours to find purchase on the mattress either side of you, and you let yours fly to his hair, tangling your fingers through it like it’s second nature. You are quickly overwhelmed by him, your space completely infiltrated. The walls you’d been reinforcing to keep him out now crumble without a second thought, and he’s the one behind the wrecking ball.

“Thank fucking god.” He mumbles against your lips, and you smile into the kiss as he lays you down on the mattress.

“Eddie, wait,” You come to your senses, one final time as his mouth detaches from yours. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

Eddie has moved his mouth to your jaw, and you feel him chuckle against your skin as he kisses down your throat. “Even after all these years, you still doubt that I want this? That I want you?” You can feel his hand slide up your shirt, his skin lighting yours on fire. “You are all I want. All I could ever want. In fact,” He pulls himself away from your neck to look at your face. He’s serious suddenly, all traces of sweet teasing gone. “I should be the one asking if you want this.” He moves to get off of you, but you wrap your legs around his waist, holding him down. You’re tired of pretending not to want him, of avoiding how you feel because it’s easier. “I do. I really, really do.”

Eddie groans as you pull him back to your lips, letting the kiss say everything you’ve wanted to this whole tour. You hold his face in your hands, afraid he’ll disappear if you let go. His hand finds your skin again, sliding up your back to where your bra is still clasped. You’re nodding before he can even get the question out, and you feel the relief as he unhooks the fabric. He tugs your shirt off swiftly, and you let the straps of your bra slide down your shoulders.

–

Eddie’s POV

He separates from you then, getting up to kneel in front of where you lay on the bed, mostly exposed, save for your modest pair of black cotton panties. “Fuck,” The word comes out in a heavy breath as he takes in the sight before him. Your torso is littered with tattoos he’s never seen before, including one nestled between your tits. And speaking of, he can’t help but let his eyes land on your chest, admiring how your nipples have pebbled even before he’s really touched you.

“Still beautiful as ever.” He’s mostly talking to himself, but you smile up at him, eyes crinkling around the edges, and he feels his dick throb in his too-tight pants.

“I can’t be the only one exposed here!” You exclaim through giggles, and he obliges without argument, yanking his shirt over his head before moving back towards you.

–

Your POV

He’s been shirtless in front of you a few times over the past month, but not in this context. You watch, delighted as his abdomen tightens when you run your fingers down his stomach, along his happy trail to the waistband of his pants. You rake your fingernails over his skin, trace the new ink you hadn’t yet seen up close, listening to his breath hitch when you unbutton his jeans. Before you can yank his pants down, though, Eddie grips your hand in his, moving it back to the mattress. “We’ll get to that. Let me taste you first.” If you weren’t so eager, the words would have knocked you out, but you nod again as Eddie climbs clumsily off the bed to kneel back on the floor. He takes hold of your ankles, swiftly pulling you to the end of the mattress. You feel those pesky bats in your stomach for the first time in what feels like forever, heat rushing to your face as Eddie moves further in between your legs.

He’s in no rush as he moves up your body, lingering to place soft kisses in the crevices of your knees, the plush of your thighs, the peaks of your hips. He ghosts over your clothed heat, nose grazing your mound as he watches you writhe and plead above him. He’s amused by your eagerness, you know him well enough, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You want him, need him, and you’re tired of pretending you don’t.

Eddie is about to yank your last shred of clothing from your body when there’s a knock on the door.

—

Eddie’s POV

You have got to be fucking kidding. “What?!” He shouts, irritated, relaxing only slightly when he feels you giggling underneath him.

“Have you seen Y/n?” It’s Steve, taking his morning roll call. Eddie looks to you for the answer, but you only shrug, face getting redder by the second.

He moves to get off of you, but you follow him like attracting magnets, attaching your lips to his neck as he tries to answer his friend, causing his words to get lost in the fog, only letting out a strangled “Uhh…”

“Ed?” Steve twists the doorknob, out of habit probably. You flinch, and he feels his heart crack. “Wha- yeah! Sorry, I'm a little busy right now!” He clenches his teeth to keep from moaning as you lick a stripe up the column of his throat.

“Busy? You wanna know busy?!” Eddie can picture Steve behind the door, leaning into the peephole, one hand on his hip the other gesturing wildly. As pretty as Steve may be, the image is killing Eddie’s hard-on right now.

You’re not about to let that happen, though. “Steve, go away.” A command. He shifts, dick twitching in his pants again like a fuckin’ teenager.

“I-,” Pause. “Y/n?”

“Yeah.”

Silence. Then the fading of his footsteps down the hall. Eddie wills himself to look at you again, and is rewarded with your shit eating grin. “You are such a brat.” He scoffs, no actual effort behind the insult.

You have the gall to pout at him, like you’re an innocent bystander.

“Does this mean you don’t want to fuck me anymore?”

He gapes at your question, blinking rapidly as he digests it.

—

Your POV

You’d meant it to lighten the mood, but you’ve caught him off guard. Instead of his answer, you’re greeted with another interruption beyond the door. “Hey, love birds! Steve sent me over here because it is far too awkward for him to talk to you in this position, but I, frankly, am happy to relay the information.” While Robin is talking at you, Eddie is making his way closer, lowering to the floor while you bite back laughter at the mess you've gotten yourself into.

”We check out in two hours. If you plan to live out your honeymoon a little longer, it will be on your own dime!” Eddie kisses up your leg, grazing your skin with his nose, sending chills up your spine. Robin is seemingly unaware of your state, or she genuinely does not care. “We’re all going out for dinner tonight before everyone goes home, and both of you better not skip it to cuddle up in bed, you can do that for as long as you want, starting tomorrow. Also,” Eddie’s yanking at your waistband, his body shaking with giggles that you echo despite the knot in your stomach tightening with his touch. “Why are you laughing? What are you guys even doing in there? I know you’re not still asleep.”

”Robin!” Eddie calls, voice strained against his laughter. “I’m trying to eat!”

You drop your jaw, sending a backhanded slap to his shoulder.

”Did you guys get room service? Got any extra-,”

You cut her off with an involuntary moan, caused by Eddie slipping a finger past the damp cotton barricade of your underwear to slide teasingly between your folds. You smack a hand over your mouth, but it’s too late. There’s no way she didn’t hear that.

“Are you okay in th-“ It clicks. Finally. “Oh my god. Oh my god! Are you guys fucking?!” No regard for her fellow guests, or her best friend, Robin is cackling on the other side of the door. You’re in crisis, and she’s laughing!

”We’re trying!” You shriek back, feeling the frustration build as Eddie’s finger circles around your clit, causing you to grind against his hand.

“Oh my god. Wait. Is this first time?! Am I interrupting? Holy shit, I am so sorry-“

”Robin!” Eddie shouts again, this time sternly, losing his patience.

“Yeah?”

”Leave.”

”Yup, yup. See ya!” And finally, the fading of her footsteps, scurrying down the hall.

Eddie turns his face back to your center, littering kisses on your thigh as he wiggles your underwear away from your body.

You can’t help but get in one last dig. “You think she’s going to tell Gareth?”

His smile drops from his face completely, jaw tightly clenched. “I have no problem ignoring him yelling at me on the other side of that door. I think at this point he knows I don’t listen to him. And, he’d probably be relieved to find out I grew a pair.”

You scoff, ready with a wise ass remark when he shuts you up with a slow, wet lick between your folds. He glides your panties the rest of the way down your legs, and you don’t miss him pocketing them before moving his hands back to your thighs.

“Fuck,” you whine, desperately clawing at the sheets as Eddie’s tongue latches to your clit, tracing eager patterns across the bud. You drop your head back to the mattress, willing your brain to turn off. Eddie groans into your pussy, rutting against the mattress as he slips a single ringed digit into your hole. You buck your hips, aching for more and blinded by how good it all feels, how familiar. You’d had your fair share of one night stands since leaving Eddie, enough to get used to the normalcy of bad sex. Now, you’re blinded by how Eddie reads your body, like you’re written in a language only he can understand.

His tongue moves in circles over your clit, fingers curling steadily inside of you. The sounds he causes you to make are wet and absolutely filthy, but you can’t bring yourself to feel any shame. It’s Eddie, after all. You can feel your desire ripple through you, the coil in your stomach tightening with each swipe of his tongue, every stroke of his finger. He doesn’t relent, keeping an agonizing pace while you grind your pussy against his face, desperate for release. In response to your begging, Eddie groans into your core, the vibrations sending a shock of pleasure up your spine, and your vision goes white.

“Eddie, I’m gonna, fuck I’m gonna come!” It doesn’t take you long to feel your resolve snap, sending your legs shaking on either side of Eddie’s head. He holds you in place, still lapping at your juices as he claws at your hips, a response to the desperate praise you sing for him, an unintelligible string of curses and his name through breathy sighs as you attempt to slow your heart down. Eddie only pulls away when you tap the top of his head lightly, signaling your overstimulation. He releases his mouth from your core with a wet pop, and you can see his lips and chin are shiny with your arousal.

“Good as you remember?” He hovers over you, teasing smirk on his swollen lips as you scoff, rolling your eyes.

“Even better, somehow.” You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling his body flush against yours. Your breathing is still ragged, heart still skipping around in your chest as he closes the gap between you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You take his distracted state as an opportunity, tightening your grip around him, flipping him onto the mattress, landing on top of him a little less gracefully than you’d have liked, causing Eddie to burst into laughter. You’re quick to shut him up, grinding your sensitive cunt over his clothed cock, feeling it kick up at the contact. “You wanna help me get these off?” You ask sweetly, toying with the button of his jeans.

—

Eddie’s POV

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart.” His head falls against the mass of pillows, head foggy with the heat between his legs. “Keep doin’ that and I won’t even get the tip in.” Eddie grips your hips harshly, willing you to be still. Touching you doesn’t help in centering himself, though.

“What a shame that would be,” You tease, unclasping his belt as you speak. “Guess I’ll have to move quickly.” Eddie gets the hint, tucking his thumbs into the waistband to assist in getting his stupidly tight jeans off. He’ll curse himself about it another time, though. Right now, he’s solely focused on you, yanking his pants and underwear from his body, and tossing them to the floor carelessly before straddling him again.

You’ve always been a tease, and even all of this time apart hasn’t changed that, Eddie notices. You move slowly, sliding the length of his cock between your wet folds, head lolled to the side as you close your eyes, as if focusing into the feeling between your body and his. Eddie bites back a groan as he watches your performance, awestruck by the closeness. You infiltrate his senses, and he wills himself not to close his eyes from the pleasure.

Finally, after what feels like eternity, his swollen tip catches on your entrance, jolting him into action. He takes his cock in his hand, preparing to line up to your center the way he must have hundreds of times before. Even after these years apart, the distance both emotionally and physically between you, it is a second nature to him. You’re about an inch away when he has a moment of clarity.

“Wait,”

You huff in complaint. “Seriously?”

“I don’t have a condom.”

–

Your POV

That has never stopped him before, and you can feel the panic in your throat as you ask the question. “Have you ben fucking other people?”

He stutters, “Well, I-”

“Wait. Don’t answer that. Did you wear one when you were fucking other people?”

“Of course.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay. I’m on the pill, you’re being safe.” You shrug. Nonchalant. Not desperate at all.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“When you fuck other people, do they… ?”

“I just said I’m on the pill.”

“Yeah, okay, but you don’t know who these guys are, what diseases-”

“Okay, Eddie, stop. First of all, how do you know what genetalia the people I’m fucking have?”

That shuts him up. “Yeah. Also, if you must know, I have made all the people with penises wear a rubber. Feel better?”

Eddie is silent, and you let your brain run with your panic again. The mood is dead, Eddie is over the spontaneous, passionate confession and he’s never going to speak to you again.

“Okay.” He shrugs, and before you can respond he grips your hips, guiding you down onto his cock as you roll your hips forward, taking him deeper. Without much effort, you take his entire length, reveling in the familiar stretch of your walls. He lets you set the pace at first, a vice grip on your hips as you gain your strength, bouncing on his cock as he bucks his hips into you. You feel him growing impatient though, his thrusts growing eager, hands migrating up to grab your tits. Though you would love to draw this out, make him beg you for it, you find you’re just as desperate, watching him beneath you, mouth slack and eyes glossy, a picture you’ve missed for so long.

He finally sits up, and you let him wrap an arm around your waist, flipping you onto the mattress. Effortlessly, Eddie gains control, lifting one of your legs to wrap around his waist, allowing him even deeper inside of you. The new sensation draws a guttural moan from you, unabashed and absolutely filthy.

“Fuck, I missed that sound,” Eddie speaks between grunts, seemingly hypnotized by the way his movements cause your boobs to bounce. He continues snapping his hips, prodding that spot deep inside, that only he’s ever been able to reach. “Thought about ‘em all the time. Couldn’t let myself forget those pretty noises.” All the while, you can’t form a single coherent thought, brain foggy from the heat, coil in your stomach tightening again. He looks so beautiful above you, curly bangs stuck to his face with perspiration, eyes blown out with desire.

Eddie babbles on, ever the talker. “Missed these beauties,” He holds himself up with one hand, the other squeezing your tit again teasingly, and you giggle. “And this pussy too, so much.” the same hand travels down, ghosting over your skin until he reaches between your bodies, rubbing sweet circles on your clit. “Best I ever had, only one I ever wanted. Takin’ me so well, sweetheart. You feel so fucking good.”

“I missed you too, Eddie. You make me feel so good.” It’s a whisper, all you really have the strength for. He’s panting, resting his sweaty forehead against your own as you breathe into each other’s mouths, and his smile widens with your admission. His rhythm stutters slightly, but he doesn’t relent. “Need you to say it again, baby. Wanna hear you tell me again.”

You don’t have to ask what he means. Through your haze, you can barely get the words out, but you muster enough from the way he’s looking at you. “I love you, Eddie.”

Eddie groans at your words, throwing his head into the crook of your neck, like he’s embarrassed by his sensitivity “Fuck, I love you too. I love you so much, y/n. So. Fucking. Much.” He punctuates each word with a thrust, bringing you to peak.

And he’s right behind you. “Where should I-” He lifts his head up, and he looks at you with wide, frightened eyes.

“Inside, Eddie, please come inside me.” Your breathing is ragged, legs twitching rapidly as you cry out, white knuckles gripping the mattress.

“Shit, baby, fuck!” Eddie keeps his pace until you can’t hold on, the tether finally snapping as your walls tighten around him. You throw your arms around Eddie’s shoulders, nails digging into his skin as his cock twitches. He comes with you, spilling inside of you as a shiver runs through his body. You bring your mouth to his, swallowing his whines as you both ride out your orgasms, skin sticking to skin with sweat and spit.

Reluctantly, Eddie slips himself out of you, causing you to whine at the loss. Before you can say anything, he’s rolling out of bed and into the bathroom.

—

Eddie’s POV

He needs a minute. Maybe an hour. Realistically he’s gonna need a month. Shit. Regret isn’t the right word. Ashamed, maybe, of his lack of resolve when the subject comes to you. He’s vulnerable, exposed. He tries to shake the intrusive voice from his brain yelling in his ear that he doesn’t deserve to be loved, especially not by you.

“Eds?” Your voice pulls him from his thoughts, and he takes a deep, heavy breath before returning to you with a wet cloth.

“Sorry, got a little lost.” He chuckles, suddenly unsure how to approach this. Post sex for Eddie lately had consisted of a brief wave and a paid cab at most. Something tells him that isn’t the correct approach this time.

“Where’d you go?” You tilt your head, lending your ear like nothing’s changed since yesterday.

Eddie shakes his head. He won’t let himself ruin this again. “Nowhere more important than here.” He slips the cloth between your legs, gently wiping your inner thighs as he speaks. “Just had to pinch myself a few times.”

When you smile at him, he forgets everything he’s supposed to be worried about. He can only smile back, briefly before he kisses you again. He makes a point to be gentle, to show you he means it. Nothing is more important than here, now, with you. When your hands lace into his hair again he can’t help but sigh, as if relieved to be in your arms again.

He can’t fully shake the tension, though, and you seem to sense that. “We’ll figure this out, okay? We can talk after dinner. Just float here with me a little longer.” Your soft hand caresses his stubbled cheek, tickling him slightly as he reads your features. There is so much love in your eyes, it causes his heart to race.

Eddie nods, leaning his cheek further into your palm. You lean in again, kissing him gently as if sealing your word. He pulls you into his lap, holding you as closely as he physically can. You stay like that for awhile, before migrating to the balcony, lazily draped in t shirts as you smoke your cigarettes, enjoying each other’s presence. For now, Eddie can relax. Even for a few minutes, he is grateful for the silence.

—

tag list: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @wiildflower-xxx @beebeerockknot @champagne-glamour @xxgothwhorexx @therensistance @chonkzombie @brxkenartt @sidthedollface2 @bibieddiesgf @gaysludge @eddiesguitarskills @potatobeanpies @poisonedluv @kellsck @m-chmcl-rmnc @veemoon | send a message to be added🫶

#eddie munson x reader #rockstar!eddie #eddie munson fanfic #smut #angst #fluff #fd #afab!reader #gnc!reader #90s au #slow burn #mutual pining #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #strangerthingscentral #st4

[c-vs-the-world]

There is disturbing lack of Tacoma FD fanfiction on ao3

#pls its so funny and good #theres so much potential for AUs #also those AU fics that r ooc but so so entertaining #i would write some but i dont have the time energy or computer #tacoma fd #tacoma fd tv #csays #cthinks #fanfiction #fanfics

[blupengu]

Oh how naive I was…

#recently saw a comment from someone saying they hoped there was more romance in Lucas’s salvation end and I. 👀 #did not have the heart to tell them to mentally prepare themselves 💀 #ahaha I mean. yeah sure in a way. 🙃 #we get a lovely bonding CG of us stabbing him in the neck and later kissing him after he’s died so like uh yay? 💀 #the more I see people commenting about their hopes and dreams for the salvation ends the more I feel the need to rant again lmaooo 😂 #AND! #vague maybe spoilers for the fandisk in the following tags so beware :O #I’ve heard some vague ominous foreboding statement about the fandisk and… y’all I can’t #I’m gonna break my controller if he still still gets a shitty depressing end even in the FD 😭😂 #like OKAY GAME. I KNOW HE’S DEAD. BUT CAN WE HAVE A SLIGHTLY HAPPIER/HOPEFUL AU??? #please nadia too she is so innocent… #please give the Proust siblings a break dear lord 💀 #virche evermore #shuuen no virche #Virche evermore spoilers #shuuen no virche spoilers #there’s not enough fanart/fanfics/shitposts for me to be able to cope with more despair even in the fandisk please I’m begging… 😂 #never before have I used the 💀 emoji so much when talking about a character before #my post

[bardic-tales]

Tumblr Games: FF Edition: WIP Wednesday

I was tagged by @asirensrage. I loved your snippet.

Rules: Post the last sentence you wrote (fanfic /original/other) and tag as many people as there are words in a sentence. (or not)

Tagging: This is an open tag. So, if you share a piece of your WIP, please tag me so I can read it. I am also soft tagging: @residentdormouse @megandaisy9 @themaradwrites @serenofroses.

Sephiroth shifted on the double sleeping bag as he peered through the open tent flap, hoping to catch a glimpse of Bianca in the cold, morning sunlight, but she had exited the cave into the crater moments before.

#tumblr games #writeblr #writeblr fanfiction #oc: bianca moore - ff #character: sephiroth #canon x oc #sephiroth x oc #final fantasy 7 fanfic #final fantasy 7 #au: canon divergent #fantasy worlds collide #snippet: fwc #fd: final fantasy #bardic tales #bardic-tales

[musical-chan]

Father of Time Chapter 20: Long Way Home

Goddess Farore held out her hand towards Link and he put his own in hers again, more confident this time. 

"While you are here, you will practise your new abilities with me."

The teen swallowed the nervousness in his throat and nodded. It hadn't been that long since his visit with Grandmother Din and the thoughts of strength and power still sat uneasy in his head. He wanted to do it, he didn't want to do it, he worried about how badly he wanted to. 

"My child, I know what you feel and it is normal. Not all desire for power is wrong. Your Father is who he is because he desires strength. It does not have to consume you."

"R-right. I understand."

On the edge of the Spring, Deity and Aevum stood by while Farore worked with Link.  Even with the reassurances from the Mothers, Aevum could tell her Brother was tense as he watched.  The goddess suddenly became her older self again and leaned in casually towards the god.

"And how many Chosen did you have, little Brother?"

"One."  The word was clipped short and his eyebrow twitched ever so slightly.

"Ah."  There was silence between the two and Deity frowned.  He was expecting more from his Sister but she was being uncharacteristically quiet. He had been too caught up in his own thoughts to really notice the words that had passed between his Sister and Mother but something had transpired there. Aevum seemed pensive. 

"She was…a strong warrior.  But she did not handle it well."

"Burned out?"  Deity made a noise of assent and Aevum nodded.  A Chosen burning out was a very real risk; deity abilities were difficult even in the best of situations.  If they took on too much, used their abilities in ways that extended their bodies past endurance, it was usually fatal.  No wonder her Brother had been so adamant to speak to the Golden Mothers after what had happened to Link.  So many of his reactions regarding the boy made more sense.  She was quiet for a moment, then tentatively posed a question towards Deity.  "Do you know why Ikana was sealed away, back then?"

(Read the rest on AO3!)

20 chapters! 20! 84,000 words! AHHHHHH!!! It's very exciting!

#Legend of Zelda AU #post-OOT AU #post-MM AU #Legend of Zelda fanfic #Fierce Deity #Fierce Dadity #loz fanfic #Fierce Deity is a good dad #loz au fic #Father of Time fic #post MM Link #Legend of Zelda #They're going hoooooome! #FD and Aevum are precious siblings and I love them

[whetstonefires]

For the fake fic game: The Stone The Chicken Laid.

Ah woop had to retype this reply after power outage.

So idk what fandoms you're in nonny, so I'm taking this for ffvii because it reminds me of that fancy little white chocobo in mideel that horks up a rare materia for you. (And because the way I use metaphors means that I would feel the need to make this one amusingly literal on top of its thematic weight, if I were to use it lmao.)

Hojo had deliberately waited whole weeks to spring the trap on his beloathed old mentor, to make sure his exciting bonus test subject was fully complete and he would have the opportunity to observe its development. He was not interested in hearing that she seemed to be a perfectly normal human child.

#ask #hoc est meum #Anonymous #is this an AU where aerith didn't inherit anything from ifalna? #or is he just being faked out? #idk #ffvii #professor hojo #ask game #aerith gainsborough #fanfic #i remembered i still owed this al;sjklsf;fd

[sykosomatic]

So here is my third idea…a bit longer and darker but I hope you like it

So it starts right where part 2 ended…Evan and his new love interest are enjoying their food and flirting a little….Evan asks what brought reader over and asks semi seriously if he is that irresistible and gets a slight laugh in response

Evan then decides to play his answer machine and gets the same messages from the film as he admires his watch…reader is playing with the heating …..turning it and asks if he should be jealous Evan points out if he haven’t called them back no…

Reader comments how it’s getting really hot in here and maybe they need to cool off so they decide to head to the shower more flirting as they start to make out in the shower

Then they notice the temperature of the water starting to grow warmer and scalding …..they turning it off but it won’t work and the door is jammed…they start panicking/blaming each other as they desperately try to get out

Evan eventually smashes his way out by just shouldering the glass till it breaks ….later they are in Evans bedroom putting ice packs on each other as they apologise for turning on each other and they kiss with Evan asking what is happening Reader settles down with him on the bed and says he doesn’t know but he will find out

obvouvou;u they are going to stick together

what do you think ?

you've always got really creative ideas -- this fic would've been a one-shot without you lol -- let's see if you like the next installment! here we go--!

part 3 of evan lewis x male reader escaping death -- lovingly entitled 'luck of the draw' on ao3 --

cw: near-death experience, anxiety, making out, groping.

evan joined you at the little dining table, taking a seat and passing your food to you once it was all cooked. the entire little apartment smelled like rich, savory noodles; it was nice. this was the most at ease you'd felt since you'd met evan. that fact made you feel a little guilty. it wasn't as if you thought it was evan's fault, and you sure weren't gonna stop hanging out with him just over some silly superstitions you were having. you'd never been one to really believe in such things; but you couldn't deny the extreme relief you felt when you'd prevented whatever had been destined to happen. it gave you almost a sense of responsibility to stay and help him, to keep him safe from whatever power-that-be was hell-bent on hurting him. why evan, you found yourself thinking, of all people? and why you, sent to be his savior?

"so, uh…what brought you back here?" evan asked, after swallowing a bite of his food. he looked at you with an eyebrow raised. just as you were about to answer him and let him know about the strange feeling you'd been having, he smirked at you and continued speaking. "am i that irresistible?"

you laughed, rolling your eyes at his goofy expression. you decided to maybe bring up your weird feeling later. or maybe, not at all? after all you didn't even know if it was founded; maybe you were just having a weird week. maybe you needed to go back to that therapist you'd been seeing a while back.

"oh-- i forgot," evan said, reaching over and pressing a button on his answering machine. some messages from girls started to play, making you feel a little embarrassed. mainly for them; they sounded pretty desperate to get their hands on some of that money evan had just won from the lottery. you watched evan admire the watch he'd gotten the day before; fiddling with the latch as you stood up and cleared your throat awkwardly. you decided to busy yourself by absently messing with the thermostat, unable to find the remote to his tv and feeling that messing with your phone might've come off as rude.

"should i be jealous?" you asked evan, playfully, but also eyeing him a bit warily. he was a cocky guy, and the two of you hadn't said anything about being mutually exclusive just yet-- or ever, in that case. and he was entitled to do whatever he wanted, whether it be calling these women back or not.

"well, i mean, i haven't called them back yet, have i?" he pointed out. he finally looked up from his shiny new watch and looked over at you, reaching over to start deleting the messages. you grinned to yourself, turning the heat down a tad more. it had started getting a little hotter in the small apartment; it was freaking you out a bit. the thermostat said a cool 65 degrees fahrenheit once you were done messing with it. it shouldn't have felt so hot in there, right?

maybe you'd worked yourself up over evan's other potential lovers. you weren't really the jealous type; not outwardly, of course.

"hey, you wanna hop in the shower really quick?" you asked, crossing over to the dining table again. you put your arms around evan's shoulders from behind, leaning in and nibbling playfully on his ear. "it's getting kinda hot in here, don't you think? maybe we should cool off…" you said. you didn't boast about your flirting skills, that was for sure, but you thought you were charming enough. and evan evidently did too. he rolled his eyes, but there was definitely a grin on his face.

"you didn't even finish your food," he teased, though it didn't seem like he was all too concerned, after you'd just insinuated that he'd be getting lucky again. he stood from his chair and led you into the bathroom, the two of you flirtingly undressing each other on the way. there was a trail of clothes on the way to the bathroom, ending with the two of you standing by the shower. "i'm never gonna get tired of seeing that…" evan said playfully, eyeing your naked form beside him. he wrapped his arms around you, groping your ass and pulling you in for a kiss. you could feel yourself blush at the comment -- did that mean he wanted to keep seeing you? that maybe you'd be spending more time with him? you'd only known him for about a day, but he fascinated you, and you liked his goofy cockiness; it was surprisingly charming.

he turned around and started the water, leaning down and giving you access to return his groping. you grabbed his ass; it was really nice, you couldn't really tell that based on the clothes he wore, which made it all the better that you'd gotten to see it. and touch it, of course. he moaned as you massaged his ass and lower back. the water spritzed on, warm and steamy, inviting the two of you inside. the shower itself was a sort of glass box, with a door that swung open and clasped shut on the inside. it was the perfect size for the two of you to be intimately close in it together. the two of you clambered in, laughing as you bumped into each other while trying to get into comfortable positions. you ended up facing each other, a moment of thought before you both leaned in for a kiss.

the kiss deepened as the two of you started groping each other, becoming a full-on make-out session full of moaning and groaning. you broke away to bite on evan's neck, making him gasp out in surprise as you teeth scraped the delicate flesh just above his shoulder. "shit, wait, let me fix the temp real quick," evan grunted, pulling away from you, suddenly a bit agitated. you had to admit, the water was starting to get a little hot. he turned more cold on, but that didn't help. the water started getting hotter.

"are you turning the right knob?" you asked, hissing through your teeth as you felt the water start to sting the skin on your forearm. your arm was turning a bright, angry red as the water started to scald you.

"yes, i'm turning the right knob!" evan snipped at you, making you frown frustratedly at him. "i know which knob is cold, it's my apartment," he grumbled, turning both knobs now. it was clear he had been turning the right one; the water was just getting hotter by itself.

"maybe try turning it off?" you suggested, trying to scoot back away from the stream of boiling water. it had to be approaching something like 150 degrees at this point. you couldn't think straight, it was so hot. you were starting to panic, and you knew evan was too, but yours was starting to get intense. had you not avoided the thing that was supposed to hurt evan? and had you lumped yourself in with him? were the two of you going to die from third degree burns in this shower, trapped in the boiling water and choking on steam?

"i am trying to turn it off, man! i'm not stupid. why don't you try, if you're so smart?" evan snapped, shoving past you to trade you spots. now he was up against the glass wall of the shower, and he started to jiggle the clasp, trying to undo it. it was stuck. the two of you really were stuck, and if you didn't find a way out soon, it wasn't going to be pretty. "damn it, this is all your fault, you were the one who suggested getting in here in the first place… i bet you broke the stupid latch…"

"hey, don't get pissed off at me," you grouched back at him, angry that he was blaming you for something that clearly wasn't your fault. there were sinister things at play, here, working against you and evan and trying to harm you both now. "maybe if your apartment wasn't so hot, i wouldn't have wanted to get in here." you grumbled as the two of you worked on your tasks separately, faced away from each other. the heat of the water climbed in intensity so rapidly it was making you lightheaded. it had been all of three or four minutes that you'd been in there, and in just that time, the two of you had gotten agitated enough to blame each other for something that you at least knew wasn't anyone's fault. at this point it was clearly some sort of evil thing at play, here. you fiddled with the knobs desperately, evan messing with the latch, when in one quick second you heard a smashing sound behind you.

evan had busted through the foggy glass pane of the shower, shouldering it with all of his weight and smashing through it. cool air rushed in, already soothing your skin as you rushed out to him, stepping around glass and crouching down to where he lay on the floor amidst a bed of glass shards. the water sprayed on behind you, harmlessly flowing down the drain. steam curled up around you in the bathroom as you consoled evan, brushing glass off of him and pulling him up to his feet.

all animosity drained from the two of you as you looked into each other's eyes, safe from the boiling heat of the shower. "are you alright?" you asked him, gathering him in your arms and holding him close as the two of you mentally recovered from the ordeal you'd just been through.

"sorry i was being such an ass," evan said to you, softly, as you passed an ice pack and frozen peas back and forth to each other. he'd given you a spare pair of pajama pants and was wearing a pair himself as the two of you sat on his bed together. your head was swimming with all the things that had happened the past day; you barely heard him.

"it's okay. i was being an ass too -- it wasn't anybody's fault," you assured him, leaning in and kissing him on the lips. it was a gentle kiss, meant to be comforting. it seemed to have worked at least a little bit, but he was still a little worked up.

"maybe not, but.. what the hell was it, then? that shit doesn't just happen."

you sighed softly, biting on your lip. you knew that you'd been right all along, that the crazy-anxious feeling you'd been having was founded in some kind of truth. this wouldn't be the last time something like this happened. the pit in your stomach had started to return, and you had a feeling that it would be there for a while. you figured you better get used to saving evan's life, and he'd better get used to saving yours. you didn't know what the feeling meant exactly, other than the two of you would be being chased by death for a good while going forward. "i don't really know," you said, pausing. you thought about just brushing it off, keeping him in the dark for just a moment longer, letting him have that ignorant bliss. but it felt irresponsible. "but it feels… cosmic," you muttered, just in case he thought you were being crazy. but when you looked up at him, he was nodding slowly and thoughtfully. "and we'll figure it out. i'll get to the bottom of this, and we'll stop it," you promised, reaching over to hold his hand in your lap.

24-hour relationship or not, evan wasn't going to die, and neither were you. you were going to see to that.

#writing #slashers #asks #male reader #drabble #requests #evan lewis final destination 2 #evan lewis x male reader #evan lewis x reader #evan lewis #evan lewis fic #final destination #final destination 2 #fd movies #fd2 #final destination fanfic #horror movie fic

[arrthurpendragon]

Chapter Update!

┌────── ⋆. · 𓅫 · .⋆ ──────┐

                Dead Weight

└────── ⋆. · 𓅫 · .⋆ ──────┘

When I finally awoke following the shock of everything, I found myself resting on a pile of leaves. The sounds of a river running nearby echoed through the trees along with the murmurs of people nearby. For a moment, my senses couldn't process anything. Why was I in the middle of the forest in a pile of leaves? Why did people's voices sound so pained? But then it hit me like a ton of bricks in the stomach and everything came flooding back to me. District 12 was gone.

My first instincts were worry and fear. I instantly shot up into a sitting position trying to find my mother and Prim. Were they alright? Had they made it?

CONTINUE READING AT WATTPAD OR AO3

OC Fam Tag: @akabluekat​ • @noratilney​ • @misshiraeth98​ • @the12thnightproject​ • @yelenabolevas​ • @darkwolf76​ • @mimikoflamemaker​ • @bobfloydsbabe​ • @asirensrage​ •  @getawaycardotmp3​ • @juliaswickcrs​ • @heirsoflilith​ • @theawesomeloner​ • @sentineljedi​ • @phoenix-rising29​ •  @bravelittleflower​  • @nixdragon​ • @rennys-new-life​ • @allicenthightxwer​ • @heathersocs​ • @letthestarssing​ • @ocappreciationtag​ • @zeleniafic​ • @nejires-hado​ • @kingsmakers​ • @eddysocs​ • @chickensarentcheap​ • @amixedwitch​ • @alexandra-scribbles​ • @iron-parkr​ • @valdrinors​  • @witchofinterest​   • @wordspin-shares​  • @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers  • @starcrossedjedis​  • @heresthefanfiction​   • @bluebell-winter​ • @foxesandmagic​  • @misskatiewrites​ • @twofacedharveydent​ • @neet0​ • @fanficanatic-tw​​ • @darknightfrombeyond​ • @drbobbimorse​ • @trash0saurus​ • @villain-connoisseur​​ • @sunlitscribe​​ • @ruvaakke​​  • @starryeyes2000​​   • @bardic-tales​​   • @oneirataxia-girl​​ •  @that-demigirl​​ • @water-writings​​ • @reirvival​​ • @endless-oc-creations​​ • @themaradaniels​​ • @fakedatings​​ • @dancingsunflowers-ocs​​ • (wanna be added or removed? Just lemme know)

#ocappreciation #oc: briony everdeen #fic: daughter's lament #fd: the hunger games #gale hawthorne x oc #chapter update #oc fanfiction #oc fanfic #original female character

[skyward-floored]

If you still want to write that sickfic, could I suggest either Wolfie (LU or IAU), the Fierce Deity, or a Minish-sized Four as your victim?

I hope you start feeling better soon! ❤️❤️❤️

I was kind of just being complainy earlier, but now that you mention it, I guess I could whip something up real fast—

————————————————————

“Achoo!”

Twilight jumped at the sudden noise, putting a hand on his sword as he looked around the woods where he’d been taking a walk. It hadn’t been a loud noise that had startled him, but it hadn’t sounded like just a natural sound of the woods either.

In fact, it had sounded like a... sneeze.

“Hello?” he called, wondering if one of the others was playing a prank. They were all in the town a little ways away though, and Twilight was fairly sure he hadn’t been followed.

A few birds called to each other in the distance, but there was no other sound aside from the faint noise the wind made as it rustled the treetops.

Twilight’s grip on his sword eased, and he was about to continue walking when another sneeze rang out, louder this time.

Twilight frowned and looked towards where the sound had come from, stepping closer when he saw something go up into the air. Something was definitely sneezing, and as Twilight crouched down to get a better look, he almost couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Smithy?” he asked in surprise, and the tiny figure froze, then slowly looked up at him. “Smithy I thought you were resting back at the inn, what are you doing out here? And tiny no less?”

“Um...” the slightly-squeaky answer came, and maybe it was Twilight’s imagination, but it sounded rather congested to him. “Not much. I ju... jus... just wa...”

Four suddenly let out an explosive sneeze, and Twilight watched in surprise as the force of it actually launched the tiny smithy into the air, sending him a few feet off the ground. Twilight shot out his hands to catch him, and Four landed in his palms, sniffling intensely.

“Was visiting some minish,” he sniffled, and wiped his nose on a tiny handkerchief, “just real quick. I’m fine Twi, I-I ju... ju... achoo!”

Four went shooting upwards again, and Twilight scrambled to catch him, the smithy landing back on his palms with a groan.

“Four, you said you were resting because you had a headache, not because you were sick,” Twilight said with a frown, and Four let out a few miserable coughs.

“I didn’t want you all to hover,” he grumbled once he finished, sniffling again. “And that place has the most uncomfortable beds in existence. Plus when I went to rest, I did just have a headache. The sneezing didn’t start until I came out he... here... ACHOO!”

That sneeze sent Four flying out of Twilight’s hands and sideways into a bush, so quickly that Twilight had no chance of catching him.

“Whoa— are you okay, Four?” Twilight asked worriedly as he parted the leaves, and the smithy gave him a dizzy-looking thumbs up from where he’d landed on a branch. Twilight let him step back into his hand, though he noticed with no small worry that Four felt like he was shivering. “I think we should get you back to the inn,” he said gently, and Four sighed before blowing his nose on his handkerchief again.

“Okay, okay. Not like this though, I wh...wa... wa—choo! ...want to be big.”

“I think I would too if I was launched three feet upwards every time I sneezed,” Twilight chuckled, and Four gave him a halfhearted glare.

“Har har. Pardon me for currently weighing about as much as a bug.”

Twilight chuckled again as he gently set Four on his shoulder, and the smithy directed him towards the nearest minish portal, sneezing and sniffling all the way.

#short and sweet #almost did FD but the mental image for Four was too powerful #answers from the floor #silvrash 797 #linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu twilight #lu four #linked universe fanfic #writing from the floor #I sneezed three times while writing this #though I had the URGE to sneeze at least six times #oog

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

Here to Stay (Rhett Abbott x OC)

listen I saw a post this morning and I blacked out and now we're here....enjoy the filth (aka oral m receiving and implied masturbation)

Tessa pulled off of him with a soft pop, looking up at him with saliva glistening on the corners of her mouth and eyes half-lidded. “Keep the ice on y’r hand, bubs.”

“Y-Y’re not makin’ it — easy,” Rhett replied, voice pitchy and breathless as she kissed at his pelvic bone.

She had the audacity to smile almost bashfully as she turned her face into his hip. Rhett really didn’t think he deserved this. Locked in the one-person bathroom, back pressed against the door with his jeans around his boots, his almost-girlfriend getting her knees dirtied and marked up just to please him. A thank-you, she called it as she dragged him into the bathroom.

Rhett didn’t need thanking for punching that guy in the face — three times. He put his hands where they didn’t belong and called Tessa things he should have prayed to God for forgiveness for. Should have prayed to Rhett for forgiveness for as he was dragged out of the Pit Bar by the back of his shirt. Rhett, with all that anger and fury bubbling beneath his skin, wanted to keep hitting him. Wanted to follow him out into the parking lot and make him apologize over and over until Rhett was satisfied.

But then Tessa put her hand around his wrist. Looked up at him with gratitude and fear in her eyes — and all thoughts of that asshole left his mind. She was the only thing that mattered. He was practically putty in her hold as she pulled him over to the bar and asked for a bag of ice for his already reddening knuckles.

Moldable and malleable and willing to do whatever she wanted. Even as she wrapped her lips around his leaking cock and took as much of him in her mouth as she could.

“Fu-uck, sunshine,” he breathed, the back of his head hitting the wooden door with an audible thunk.

The ice slipped from his red and aching knuckles again, but neither of them cared as it tumbled to the floor. A crunch and a splat on the busted tile. Not when he was slipping cold and wet fingers into her hair.

He sighed, “Too good t’me.” 

She hummed around him, hands digging into the meat of his thighs as she bobbed her head. Drool leaking from the corner of her mouth. It took nearly all of Rhett’s willpower to pick his head up from the door and look down at her. She looked beautiful — just like he thought she would. Even in the dim, nearly flickering light of that bathroom. Mouth full of his cock, no one elses, his. There were tears in her eyes when she looked up at him through those thick lashes. And he couldn’t help the soft groan and little buck of his hips, pushing him further into her mouth, that had her moaning and gagging around him.

“O-Oh, shit —” He gripped her hair a little tighter, forced her to keep still even as that surprisingly devilish tongue kept working him. “C’n I keep goin’, baby? So close…”

Tessa nodded as best she could. Relaxed her jaw even as her nails dug further into his flesh. Prepping herself for what was to come. Rhett, with all the gentleness he could muster while his cock ached for release, put his other hand on the side of her face. Then he began to rock gently into her mouth.

“So good, Tess, fuck — mouth feels so good.” 

He was babbling now and he didn’t even know it. Grunting and talking and praising as he worked his hips harder, faster. And Tessa just sat there and took it, moaning and gagging and tears streaming down her cheeks. He didn’t even notice the hand that had slipped beneath the skirt of her dress.

Not until his spine went rigid against the door and he was spilling into her mouth. And she swallowed it all dutifully — let him stay in her mouth until it hurt just enough for him to hiss and grin. 

“Oh, sunshine,” he whispered when he finally came back to himself and noticed what she was doing. 

Rocking into her own hand with her forehead rested on his hip.

“Just so good t’me,” she whimpered quietly.

The sound echoed in the bathroom quiet.

#oc: tessa abernathy #fic: here to stay #fd: outer range #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x oc #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott fanfic #rhett abbott fic #outer range #outer range imagine #outer range fic #ocapp #lewis pullman #rhett abbott x tessa abernathy

[streamafterlaughter]

Fundamental Differing

nav | masterlist | playlist | pin board | chapter XVII | add to taglist

Chapter XVIII: I Gave My Life Away

pre warning: tags contain some non specific spoilers

warnings: 18+ MDNI mentions of a suicide attempt, alcoholism, narcotics addiction, depression. Adult content not meant for people under the age of 18. (spoiler for next tag!) Grinding/heavy petting, an inkling of smut. Angst, hurt feelings, heavy subject matter. reminder that this is fiction and i do not condone the actions of my characters! afab!gn!reader, they/them pronouns, rockstar!eddie, use of y/n lol i did not use y/n once!, pet names

a/n: i am… so sorry. that’s all i’ll say for now.

Disclaimer: I do not give permission to have my work reposted on other sites. Reblogs are more than welcome, but please inform me if you find my work elsewhere unless otherwise stated.

—

January 1991

Eddie’s POV

“Eddie? Eddie!” The voice is familiar, but too far away. He can’t see anything beyond a spinning figure, but he feels the harsh slapping on his face before someone drags him by his armpits into the bathtub. “Cmon, man, please.”

Then there’s water, and it’s cold, and Eddie’s trying to move but he can’t, he can only cough and choke as the shower spray gets into his nose and mouth.

“Oh fuck, thank fucking God.” Then there are footsteps, and Eddie’s hauled out of the bathroom on a stretcher, the frantic voice following closely behind.

-

Present Day

Eddie’s POV

“Ed, they’re looking for you. Two minutes.”

Eddie nods, waving the security off and turning back to her. “You’re still in Ohio, then?”

“Yeah, seems it. Nothing really goin’ on here, though.”

“Isn’t that kind of a good thing?”

She shrugs, her lips pursed. “Guess so, if it means you’re here.”

Eddie chuckles shyly. “Well, I should get moving, or Steve will have my head.

She nods eagerly, wrapping herself tightly around Eddie’s torso, causing him to shift uncomfortably. He hasn’t seen her since before, and he realizes now he’s not that person anymore. It causes his heart to skip with anxious energy.

“See ya.” She sends him a wink, and he waves as she turns on her heel to venture back into the crowd.

The security guard is still there, humming the chorus to Under The Bridge as it plays out of the house speakers, leaning against the wall as he waits for Eddie to finish with the pretty, dainty girl he’s with, and Eddie returns to him like a scolded child. “Alright, let’s go.”

“That your girl?” He asks, making small talk with the rockstar he has likely no interest in.

Eddie shakes his head. “God, no. A friend, maybe. Not even that much, not anymore.”

“Guy like you doesn’t need to dwell on that, man. Sure you got plenty of ladies lined up for a chance with you.”

He snorts, amused by this guy’s casualty. “You’d be surprised.”

The guard escorts Eddie all the way to the stage, where Steve is seething and huffing about, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “Sorry, sorry. Ran into someone.”

Steve’s expression softens slightly at the mention. “Was it-“

“Yeah. But it’s fine, really. Civil, even.”

“Right. In that case, I’m still mad at you,”

“Sure, of course. Can we hold off on my discipline until after the show?”

Steve runs a hand through his hair, breathing deeply as if to prevent himself from taking a swing at Eddie. “Fine. Go.”

Eddie bows his head to thank him, and takes his place next to his bandmates, who’d been left waiting restlessly for their frontman, again. “Hey-“

“Shut up.” Jeff silences him. “Don’t wanna hear it.” And it’s fair. They shouldn’t have to listen to his excuses. He’s supposed to be working on himself, and all he’s managed to do is piss off the people that matter to him most. The house lights dim, and Eddie watches as the crowd grow feral, shoving toward the stage, shaking the metal barricades standing between them and the stage. His heart thumps in his ears, in time with the crowd’s eager chants of “COFFIN, COFFIN,” a command he’s inclined to obey. It drags him forward, led by his band onto the stage to present themselves to a mass of people that want to tear them apart.

The stage lights up with the first chord, and Eddie hears the audience beyond his monitor. He looks back to Gareth, who’s awestruck at the noise, then to Jeff who holds his hand over his chest, genuinely thanking these people for coming. Eddie wants to feel it, too. The warmth these people seem to offer his friends, but he’s somewhere else. He can’t get used to it, like he’s wearing shoes half a size too small. It makes him shift uncomfortably inside his skin, constantly feeling the eyes of thousands on him, relying on him, there for him. It’s then that he realizes he’s sober on stage, for the first time in five years.

He’d stuck to his word, now twenty four hours without consuming a drop of alcohol. He feels his chest tighten, like a hand made of knives has broken open his ribcage to squeeze his heart until it pops. His lungs will fill with his own blood and he’ll choke, he watches as it flashes before him, a panic stricken fantasy but Eddie wouldn’t say unrealistic.

His friends are looking at him. The crowd is calming with their increased confusion; a late start and now a strange, empty pause. He has to fill it. He can’t find you, and he’s taking too long, and it’s starting to confuse his band, so he shouts into the blackness “HELLO, COLUMBUS!” and the room combusts with the release of tension. “I am so sorry we’re late. Thank you for waiting. Let’s burn this fucking place down.” Gareth hits his sticks together, both a warning and a courtesy that there’s no stopping now, and Eddie rides the momentum. He nails every incoming note without thought, and he can feel the vibrations through the building, both of the music and the crowd. He gets the same rush he used to, when he was wide eyed and bushy tailed, younger and in love with the life of a rockstar. For a second, he feels it again, in the same place he’d felt the least alive at this time two years ago.

-

Your POV

“What the hell!” You stomp up to Steve, screaming over the noise of the stage into his face. “Tell me what the fuck is going on.”

Steve only smirks. “How does it feel, huh? To not have a fucking clue what’s going on? He’ll tell you. I can’t-“

“Blah!” You throw your hands into the air, “I get it, you can’t tell me. Just… who’s the girl?”

Steve’s smile only grows. “Are you jealous?”

You groan, more from exhaustion than embarrassment. “Of course I’m fucking jealous, Steve! Don’t play dumb! Please, don’t make me feel stupid.”

His face falls, and he grabs you by the shoulders, jolting you into focus. “You have nothing to worry about. That I do know.”

It’s not enough, but it’s all you’re gonna get. You can’t help but respect it, the commitment to keeping Eddie’s business to himself. Truth be told, Steve is probably dying to tell you. “It’s that big, huh?” He nods sadly, and you mirror him in understanding. “But he’s going to tell you. He’s gonna tell you everything, and it’s gonna be a lot to digest. So I’ll be here when he tells you.”

“Steve, you’re scaring me.”

He nods. “That’s my intention. You might not get the answers you want, but you’ll get answers.”

-

You watch the tail end of their set with your brain going in circles. What could Steve possibly mean, the answers you don't want? What answers do you want? Who’s the girl, for starters. But mostly, what happened, in the two years without contact? What made you so angry? You can’t imagine an answer heavy enough to break you, not off the top of your head. Whatever it is, you want it. Even if it’s just to understand Eddie a little more. Even if it means he can’t be with you. Even if it means you have to let him go.

“Thank you!” Eddie shouts after the final note of a song you couldn’t name. “Thanks for comin’ out, Columbus!” The crowd shrieks, ratting your brain inside your head. “And give it up again for DEATH DANCE APPROXIMATELY!” The crowd politely continues cheering, and a small girl next to you sends you a bright smile. “So, so grateful to have them on this whole tour with us, you have no idea.” Eddie laughs bashfully, out of character for him to do while on stage. It’s a small thing, something you shouldn’t have noticed, but of course you did. He’s nervous. You squint, as if it will help you read him better, and it doesn’t. “This is our last song, I wanna hear you all. Loud as you can, alright?” The crowd whoops, and Corroded Coffin start in on Sweetheart, and you almost choke on your tears immediately.

Eddie has always said the closing song is the most important. It’s the one freshest in their mind, the one that will stick with them the most. It has to be perfect. He’d never used Sweetheart as the closer, and it’s obvious Gareth and Jeff weren’t ready for it, probably assuming Eddie skipped it reading the setlist. Eddie’s voice shakes slightly as he sings, but it’s perfect. His eyes stay closed the whole time, and you desperately wish he’d open them, find you in the wings, and sing the words to you again. Like he had, any time you’d asked him to just because you could. You sing along, lose yourself in the lyrics for the first time in years, actually hearing the words meant for you.

And then it’s over, and they’re thanking the crowd and bowing, and walking off stage, and even though you know you’re gonna see it all again night after night, even though you have seen it tens of times already, you miss it. The feeling of a shrieking crowd feeling all of their feelings while you feel yours. The feelings you hope you can give to your own audience. You feel like a teenager seeing their favorite band for the first time, and you’d forgotten how good that felt.

Robin seems to appear from thin air next to you. “Hey!” She semi-shouts over the bustling crowd. “Are you crying?” It’s a question you should absolutely be used to by now. You hadn’t noticed this time, though. “Oh!” You sniff, wiping a tear from your cheek. “Yeah, guess I was. Not sad, though.” Not necessarily true, but for now a nonissue.

“We’re all goin’ out tonight.”

You shake your head. “I’ll catch up.” She frowns at you. “It’s okay! I’ll tell you everything I can after.”

The possibility of a gossip session soothes her curiosity, and she squeezes your arm before continuing to wiggle through the crowd. You follow her backstage, into the massive dressing area backstage, where Eddie sits with his bandmates in a circle of metal fold out chairs, each of them holding a beer. Besides Eddie, who fiddles with the label of his water bottle.

“Right!” Jeff pats Eddie’s knee as he speaks, “We’re goin’ out. celebrating our biggest show to date.”

It’s then that Eddie lifts his eyes and catches you staring. You don’t bother averting yours to the floor, already having been caught red handed. “Do you guys mind if I sit this one out? I uh, have a prior engagement.” The girl, you’re sure. The girl you have nothing to worry about, the girl Eddie knows in the nowhere state of Ohio. You chew on the inside of your lip until you draw blood, anxious and suddenly unsure of everything Steve had tried to warn you about.

“Yeah, man, of course. Come out if you change your mind, though.” With that, Gareth and Jeff exit the room, and your friends follow suit soon after, leaving you and Eddie alone.

-

Eddie’s POV

Now, I have to do it right now. “Hey,”

You face him, eyes wide with questions he so desperately wants to answer for you. Your hands are clasped tightly together, your knuckles white and arms flexed, jaw clenched. “You wanna get some coffee?”

Your nod is vigorous, and he holds his elbow out for you. You quickly latch onto him, and Eddie feels just how anxious you must be. He can’t imagine where your head’s at, with your nightmares and your constant, irritating habit of caring about him so much. He’s exhausting you, and all he wants now is to let you rest.

Eddie asks a remaining staff member to escort the two of you out the back way, and into the warmth of the summer night. “Is there even somewhere that sells coffee around here? Let alone somewhere that’s open?” You joke, and he chuckles.

“I guess I didn’t think that far ahead. Ah!” He points down the road, to the glowing 7-Eleven sign. “Onward!” You laugh, and it floods through Eddie, like it’s drenching his head in ice water, refreshing him. He’s since dropped his arm, but yours stays locked around him, like if you let go he’d run away. As if he’d ever think to do such a thing.

He breaks the thick silence finally, after several minutes of walking through it. “You uh, said you wanted to talk?”

You look up at him. “I did?”

“Yeah, uh, this morning? We didn’t really get the chance.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah I guess so. I just,” You shake your head, frustrated, “I have questions.”

“Okay,” Eddie shrugs, trying to seem nonchalant. He wants to give you the answers. Finally, he wants to be completely open with you.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, shoot. I’ll answer your questions.”

“Any of them?”

“All of ‘em, sweetheart.” He can’t help it, he loves watching you shy away at the nickname, cute and soft, under all that armor.

-

Your POV

“Okay…” You have to be careful. One wrong move, and he’s shutting you out again. “Where’d you go tonight?” A subtle way to ask it, you think. Not accusatory, just curious, bordering on nosey.

“I ran into an old friend. From group.” You snap your neck, catching the words he says so casually.

“Group?”

Eddie nods, “NA-slash-AA.”

This is nowhere near where you thought this conversation would go. Every question you’d had crumbles at his answer. “What?”

“I’m more of a casual attendee, lately.” You feel your head fill up with more questions, and you’re drowning. “When did you-“ You’re expecting him to cut you off, but he waits. “When did you start going to meetings?”

Eddie looks to the sky as if to find the answer in the blackness above. “Early into 1991. There was still snow on the ground.”

“What um,” You’re walking the tightrope here, and you heed Steve’s warning. “What made you decide to go?”

Eddie looks at you again, his expression sad. “Had a really, really bad night.”

“What happened?” You ask, too quickly. It’s not fair, and you don’t have any right to know the answer, but Eddie snorts a laugh, like this news isn’t breaking your heart to learn. “Steve saved my life. I’m surprised he hasn’t divulged this story to you, even with the fact that I begged him not to tell anyone. Took me years to even tell the guys. I had gotten so bad, I didn’t care what happened to me. I was drinking myself to sleep every night, wallowing in self pity, barely able to function. I was worse than any time before. Worse than I was when you’d called me that night.”

“What night?”

“You were drunk, you probably don’t remember. Sometime in September of the year before, I’d been up all night trying, and you called me at home.” The memory comes back in a tidal wave. You’d just finished recording your EP, your first cohesive body of work, and with it had been signed to Sub Pop. Things had been looking up for you after cutting things off with him in July, but somewhere far away, Eddie had been drowning.

Before you can say anything, he continues, “Anyway, we were on a kind of hiatus as a band, had been for about a year at this point. I had nothing to get me out of bed before three in the afternoon, nothing to distract me from my pity party. I went out every night, drank until I couldn’t see, and did lines in the bathroom with people I didn’t care to know. I probably slept with six or seven different people a week, sometimes more. I couldn’t stop, because then I’d have to feel my feelings, and I was so afraid of them. One time,” He has the gall to chuckle, “after I got kicked out of a bar in New York for trying to fight the bouncer, I was so wasted and beaten that I fell asleep in my front yard with my pants around my ankles. Really glad I don’t have neighbors.”

It all pours out so easily now, like he’s telling you about his trip to the grocery store. “I uh, only got worse after that.” He stops, and you look up at him, waiting with wide, stinging eyes. “You sure you want me to keep going?” You nod. You don’t want to know, but you have to. As much as you suspect it’s gonna hurt, it means something that he’s finally willing to tell you.

He pushes forward. “On New Year's Eve of ‘91, I mixed whiskey and Steve’s Xanax. Way too much of it. Harrington found me passed out in the bathroom of my hotel room at around 1AM and called an ambulance. I'd written a note and everything.”

He pauses again to let you digest it all, and the silence sends a piercing ring through your ears. The words coming out of his mouth feel so far away, disconnected from the mouth they’re coming from. You’d never known Eddie to give up. Nothing had stopped him before; from finishing high school, from getting out of Hawkins, from being a rockstar. Regardless of how angry, or frustrated, or beaten he'd gotten, Eddie had always bounced back.

He finally pulls you from your thoughts. “That was the worst of it, but it had been a long time coming. When we were,” He gestured lamely to the air, “seeing each other, I was usually either on a run or coming down. I didn’t hide it well, I was almost sure you’d known, or at least suspected something. I was so angry and twitchy all the time. As much as I wanted to, I knew I couldn’t bring you into it, though. I never wanted you to know, and in a lot of ways I still don’t. Actually, please tell me you don’t wanna know. I’ll shut right the fuck up.”

“Nice try, but you underestimate how nosey I am.” He laughs, and you smile despite it all. “When did you start, I guess doing coke?” He doesn’t think about it for long. “Ironically, New Year’s Eve 1990 was the first time. I was a pro at it by May. I'd been drinking heavily for years by then, guess I wanted to jazz it up to ring in the new decade.” He stops walking and pivots to look at you, suddenly eager, and in no way aware of how jarring what he’d just said was. “Do you remember when I would get nosebleeds all the time, or when I’d sneeze and there’d be a giant snot bubble?” You nod, your face contorting with disgust at the memories. You remember a specific time, when you’d been making out with him in his hotel room in Boston, and his nose had just started dripping blood onto your bare chest. He’d gotten so pissed off at himself he’s left without putting his shirt or shoes back on. “Yeah, that had nothing to do with the humidity. Deep down, I think you knew that.”

He’s right, but you can still feel the crack in your heart spiderweb and spread as you hear these suspicions about Eddie confirmed.

“When was the last time?”

“The first or second night of the tour, I think.”

“Are you still drinking?” Dustin’s question makes more sense to you now. You wonder how he’d found out.

Eddie hesitates, as if fighting himself on whether to answer truthfully. “I didn’t today. It’s the first full day I’ve gone in a while. Touring is always difficult, and I’m sure you understand why this time is uh, particularly stressful.”

“Because of me.” Obviously.

“Because I know how badly I’ve hurt you, and because I know I haven’t made it up to you yet. I haven't earned your trust or even your time by any means, and I hate that you’re seeing me like this when you should be enjoying your first full US tour.” He chokes the last words out. You’ve stopped walking again, waiting at a deserted intersection, not yet ready to cross. “I’ve been fucking up recently, which is why I haven’t said anything. It’s not because I don’t want you. I want you so, so much. I just can’t do it yet.”

“Eddie,” You reach for him, and he lets you. You hold his face in your hands, feeling his flushed cheeks warm your palms as you look at him under the streetlights. “You don’t earn things like help and support, Eddie, not from people that-“ You pause. Not now, it’s not fair. “People that care about you. Thank you for telling me, I can’t imagine what you must be feeling; surrounded by triggers at all times, having to see me so much. I never would have agreed to the tour if I’d known—,“

He cuts you off, shaking his head, wafting the scent of his shampoo at you. “Don’t do that, please. This is not your fault, this is my own undoing. You are exempt from blame here.”

“I wish I’d known you were struggling. I wish I could have helped.”

Eddie traps your hands with his own on his face. “I know. I do, too.”

A sob shoves its way through your lips, and you can’t rebuild the dam fast enough. You’re crying, ugly sobbing with snot and mascara painting your face into a sad clown. It may be a cry of relief, having finally understood where your love had gone, so to speak, and seeing a glimpse of him right now. A version of Eddie happy, warm. He smiles at you, a big, beautiful smile, but his eyes are so sad. “I wish I had known to ask. Would have saved us both so much trouble.” Eddie drops his hands to your waist and pulls you closer to him, your coffee quest long forgotten. “I am so sorry.”

“Thank you.” You do not fight it, because there’s so much for him to be sorry for, regardless of if you want the apology. You trust that he means it. “I won’t push you for anything else. But I need you to ask for help, when you need it. I'm not gonna turn you away.” You wrap your arms around his torso, as physical proof of your words. You feel his arms as they surround your head, and he pulls you further into his chest. His breathing deep and even, heart beating soundly, you let yourself inhale him, indulge in his closeness even for a second. You eventually start to pull away, but he catches you, and you crane your head up to look at him, your nose inches away from his. Eddie’s eyes flick to your lips. It’s a fraction of a second, but you notice because you always do. You mimic him, flicking your eyes over his soft, pink lips and back to his deep, sweet brown eyes.

He moves first, but you’re quick to follow, and Eddie catches your lips with his, and you fight the urge to once again burst into tears. The kiss is one you haven’t felt in so long, like sleeping in your own bed after months being crammed inside a van or a two star motel. It’s a deep, yearning type of kiss you hadn’t known you were missing. Eddie moves a hand to cradle your head, like he’s holding the most valuable thing in the world. He’s gentle, almost timid, like the wrong move will ruin everything, break you both into pieces you won’t be able to fit back together. His lips are so soft, with no aggression or anxiety behind them, no nervous, frantic energy like he needs to consume you before you disappear. He takes his time, and you swim in the calm of it all. You rest your hand on his jaw, your finger lightly brushing his ear, the other stuck with your palm against his chest, squished between your bodies.

The last time Eddie kissed you like this was the day before he almost died. Before he cut that stupid sheet rope and tried to be a hero, he’d held you like you were the only thing on earth worth dying for. This time, though, there’s no rush, no impending doom to cut it short. You wonder if you’re pushing it, if this is too much for him, because it’s almost too much for you.

You pull away for a second. “Is this allowed?”

He quirks an eyebrow. “I think I know what you’re asking, but what do you mean?”

“Like, while you’re recovering. Shouldn’t you be more focused on that?”

Eddie shrugs. “Probably. And I will be. But I’m sober right now, at least, and all I can think about is you. And now you know everything, and you still kiss me like I’ve always been worthy of it. Even when I’m still not.”

“Do I really know everything now?” You lace your fingers through his and resume your walk.

He looks at you. “Do you have more questions?”

You have so many, but you’re so tired, so emotionally drained. “What do you think about, when you think about me?”

Eddie snorts a laugh at your question and you hide your face in your free hand. “Nothing good. You’re under my skin, doll. Always have been. Hey, look at that,” you look to where he’s pointing, the bright lights of the 7-Eleven store. “I’m kinda over coffee. You wanna watch a movie? For old time’s sake?” You nod wordlessly as your heart skips about, and he opens the door for you so you can grab some snacks instead.

-

Another hotel room, with boring white walls and bright white bed sheets. Eddie’s suitcases already sit in the corner, placed there by the hotel staff, complimentary mints on the pillows. Eddie flicks the bedside lamps on before fiddling with the remote, and you immediately realize, you’re once again without your own clothes. “Could I borrow-“ Eddie throws a shirt that lands perfectly draped over your face and you’re overwhelmed with his scent. “Thanks.” You deadpan, removing the fabric. He’s tossed a pair of his shorts onto the bed in front of you as well, and you’re silently grateful, because you wouldn’t have asked for them. He quickly flings his shirt off his head, and you watch as he swaps his jeans for a pair of worn flannel pajama pants.

Eddie then clicks the TV on, searching the channels aimlessly for something to watch before quickly giving up, muting it on a late night talk show. “How are you doing?” He’s already sprawled on the bed, resting his head in his hand to look at you, still in your clothes.

“I’m just digesting, I guess.” You face away from him to pull your sweat soaked shirt over your head and toss it on the floor, feeling his eyes on your bare back. You never wear a bra onstage, but you’re regretting it now. You yank Eddie’s shirt over your head to hide your butt as you yank your tights down, suddenly very aware of the color of your panties: red, and far too lacy for these circumstances. You yank Eddie’s boxers up your legs, and feel decent enough to face him again.

“We have to stop meeting like this.” He blurts as you slide into the space next to him, on top of the covers still.

“What do you mean?”

“After dark, sharing a bed, sharing my clothes,” He gestures to you, dressed head to toe in Eddie Couture. “Someone might see us. People are gonna start getting suspicious.”

“You think they’re not already?” You shift to lay on your side, now looking at him straight on. “We aren’t exactly being discrete as of late.”

He gives you a half shrug. “Does it bother you?”

“Does what bother me?”

“The fans, making assumptions.”

You think about your choice of words. “I thought it would. I think it bothered me more that they weren’t right.”

Eddie cracks a goofy smile, and you swat at him uselessly. “You want to be having a steamy secret affair with the douchebag frontman of Corroded Coffin?” He teases, poking at you.

“Oh, shut up.” There’s no malice in your voice. “You know what I mean. They have it all figured out. We’re together, in love, not ready to share it with the world or whatever. Much less complicated than whatever it is we’re actually doing.”

Eddie considers this for a moment. “Guess that’s true. I don’t think I could explain any of what we’re doing to Steve, let alone the public.”

You sigh. Poor, ignorant Steve. There’s only so much you’d be able to tell him for sure. “He’d have a heart attack.”

“I’ve already spooked him enough for a whole lifetime, I can’t drop this bomb on him too.”

“Let’s not worry about that. We don’t even know what we’re doing.”

“I just know I wanna keep doing it.” The way he says it sends you reeling instantly, drawing you into him, closing the distance between his lips and yours. You melt into him, wrapping your leg around his waist as he grips the flesh of your hip. Your hand slides effortlessly into his hair, tangling around your fingers, pulling a moan from Eddie’s throat as you tug him further into you. You can feel his gentry twitch in his pants, only a few thin layers of fabric separating him from your core. You roll your hips against him, sighing as his tip bumps against your clit, desperate for friction.

Eddie moves, latching his lips onto your throat causing your brain to fog. Your chest heaves as he nips at your skin, marking you, making your head swim with pleasure. You feel his fingers toying with the hem of his t-shirt, his calloused fingers sliding under the fabric to caress your skin, sending chills up and down your whole body. You shiver, and he pulls away. “Wanna stop?”

“Shouldn’t we?”

“That’s not what I asked.”

So you kiss him again, hungrier now. You help him yank his shirt over your head, abandoning it on the floor next to yours. Eddie shifts again, pressing your bare chest against his before breaking the kiss suddenly. “May I, uh,” He stutters like he’s a nervous teenager again, as if he’s seeing his first pair of boobs ever.

“Please.” You sigh, and it propels Eddie on, shifting down the bed until he’s eye level with your chest.

“God, I missed you.” He rasps, and you don’t have time to ask if he’s talking to you or your tits before he runs his tongue over your nipple, pulling a whine from your throat. You feel his other hand slide down your torso, freezing when it reaches the waistband of his boxers. “Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you let me take care of you?”

—

chapter XIX

haha hehe hahahahah ha ha. ha

tag list: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @wiildflower-xxx @beebeerockknot @champagne-glamour @xxgothwhorexx @therensistance @chonkzombie @brxkenartt @sidthedollface2 @bibieddiesgf @gaysludge @eddiesguitarskills @littlepotatobeansworld @poisonedluv @kellsck @m-chmcl-rmnc

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[damienthepious]

cute lil LKT oneshot inbound goooooooo

Alternate

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#elle's fanfic #second citadel #rad bouquet #lizard kissin' tuesday #lord arum #sir damien #amaryllis of exile #alternate #laksdkfsjdflasjdflaksjlfdkajs;fd #let's get vaguely META

[starryeyes2000]

Aeres: Chapter 2

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Pairing: Eomer x OFC (Seren)

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 1.6K

Summary: The events in this story take place beside the War of the Rings and in its aftermath.

Millenia ago the handmaiden Ilmarë brought a gift to the world of men and foretold of its heiress. And of great need among all races after the darkest of times.

Shipwrecked on a small island, Éomer vows protection for a stranger. Neither speaks the other’s language. When a dark army invades, they flee to the safety of his principality in Aldburg. But enemies hunt them. Unraveling why sends them on a journey to the southlands, to Gondor, to Elven domains, and to the ravaged northern country.

Excerpt:

Éomer opened his eyes. Sunlight overwhelmed his sight; a blurred figure closed the shutter. Instinct raised a hand to his brow as shield. This small motion taxed an exhausted body beyond its limit and unconsciousness again claimed him.

On waking flickering candlelight cast shadows through the darkness of a room he did not recognize. Training surfaced and his muscles tensed, preparing for action be it offense or defense. Without moving head or body, his eyes roamed the space. His hands explored the firm surface where he laid, shoulders and head elevated and supported by thick padding.

A woman sat in a nearby chair. Hearing the change in his breathing, she smiled and spoke. Neither her face nor language were familiar. Instead of forming words his parched and irritated throat croaked. Propping on elbows he pushed up and forward. Winded and sapped of strength he sagged onto the bolsters.

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