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#LETS GOOOO
rockhousejai · 3 months
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He’s our now boys
Treat him well
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Happy new year btw
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onionninjasstuff · 1 year
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Doodles | Next
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anoant · 8 months
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was in a silly goofy mood and these guys popped out
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thevastnessof · 2 months
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younger sister is likely getting engaged sometime in the next few months, so as the only permanently single child left in the family my mother's gaze is turning upon me once more like the eye of sauron. yes I know you got married when you were my age
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houngry · 2 months
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HOLY SHIT VOXVAL IS CANON
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HAHAHAHHH
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cherrypaii · 3 months
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COMMISSIONS OPEN RRRAAAHHHHH
Info below !!!!!! this is the updated pricing, the one on insta is outdated :[
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please only contact via email or insta for inquires
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eddiesghxst · 5 months
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PRICE OF FAME (PART 8/12)
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18+ — MINORS DNI
pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader
summary: eddie is bad with words
contains: enemies to lovers trope, smoking, drug and alcohol use, sexual themes, moreee jealous!eddie, mentions of piercings, smut, King James III, flirting, tension tension tension, and eddie being... idk, here u go <3
word count: 6.2k
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| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |
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“A date?”
The room has kicked into an orderly chaos compared to how it was just seconds ago. Richie is rallying the boys out of the room, an assistant is walking through with a trash bag to clean up the disastrous aftermath of pre-show rituals, and James is looking at you like you both have all the time in the world.
“Yeah, I mean… we don’t have to call it a date,” he shrugs, “we can just… hang out, maybe? Grab a bite to eat, maybe? Whatever you want.”
And oh god, Eddie was right.
And fuck— Eddie.
You scan the room for any sign of Eddie, but you find none, just the remains of smoke in the air and an irritated assistant picking up sticky bottles.
James’ hand has dropped from your waist, and his fingertips now lightly dance across the back of your hand, slinking around to grasp two of your fingers and give a light squeeze. Your heart races, eyes snapping back to his kind gaze. “Oh, um… okay, yeah.” You nod.
James smiles and tells you he’ll be out in the crowd with you in a little bit, and you nod before making your way out of the room. 
You said yes.
You said yes to James’ date, and honestly, a small part of you is excited because, god, it’s been such a long time since you’ve been on a date.
It’s hard to find time to date when you’re busy jumping from band to band, writing articles and music reviews, and still, somehow, managing to balance your own home life.
However, you were also under the impression that you and James had more of a friendship than anything romantic, so a bigger part of you is shocked (and slightly annoyed that Eddie managed to catch onto it before you did).
And then there’s that feeling. That tiny feeling in the corner of your mind that just wishes it was Eddie who had asked you. It’s a small feeling, yes, but it has a loud voice, and you find yourself growing irritated that you’re even thinking about Eddie when he only ever made things difficult.
But is it wrong to want somebody who doesn’t know what they want for themselves? Is it wrong to want someone who can’t even bring themselves to look you in the eye and be honest for one minute?
Because it’s no secret, the chemistry brewing between you and Eddie, from the moment you met, there was an obvious attraction, and the only thing that got in the way of that was Eddie’s aversion towards your job— which is beyond your control. 
And though there’s obviously a sexual attraction between you both, you can’t seem to deny the emotional connection you also share— because you and Eddie are more alike than what meets the eye.
Clearly, you both share a love for music, but you also grew up with similar experiences— from being teased for being and liking different things than your peers to having your heart broken by who you imagined would be your forever person.
God, why are you thinking about Eddie when you’ve just scored a date with James? 
You’re not paying attention when you step out of the dressing room, so you’re shocked and slightly spooked when you feel a hand wrapping around your bicep and tugging you off to the side of the door.
It’s Eddie; you know it’s Eddie because you’ve become an expert at depicting Eddie’s scent, and right now, you’re drowning in him. 
Eddie’s eyes are sharp and angry with a chilling undertone of something you can’t quite pinpoint. Fear? Jealousy? Resistance?
“Not into each other, huh?”
You blink at Eddie, still trying to find your way through the daze of events you’ve just gone through, and your eyebrows furrow in annoyance, “Oh, for fucks sake, Eddie. Are you serious—” “You can’t stand here and lie to me when I just witnessed whatever the fuck that was in there.” He gestures to the wall beside you, the wall that separates you and Eddie from James.
“It wasn’t anything.” You lie. 
Eddie doesn’t buy it, however, because he’s leaning in closer, alcohol and mint-coated breath fanning across your face as he calmly asks, “Then what did he say?”
You shake your head, dizzy with his proximity and the fear that James could walk out any second and see you and Eddie practically pressed against each other and misread the situation— because even though you may not precisely like James romantically, you still care for him, and you don’t want to hurt his feelings. 
How will you let him down easily after the date, then? What if the date goes well, and James thinks you’re more interested in him than you actually are? This is a mess, and your mind is a whirlwind of things you shouldn’t have done.
You blink through the haze once again, “Huh?”
Eddie’s jaw ticks, “What did he say to you? You looked shocked; what’d he say?”
Oh god, Eddie saw that? You thought he’d maybe have gotten bored of watching, and now you wish Richie had bursted through the doors just a few seconds earlier. And why do you even care? Why do you care that Eddie saw or what his reaction might be if you tell him the truth? 
Your heart is racing, and Eddie’s eyes are beautiful, and he’s still holding your arm, and you hate how much you want to scream at him to just let you in. Because, suddenly, you don’t want to go on a date with James, even if James is the kinder route, the more willing candidate, the one that makes more sense.
“Why do you care, Eddie?” You snap.
“Because I,” Eddie pauses, frustration settling into his bones. He looks at you like you might be the only thing he’s ever truly seen, and you don’t realize how your fingers are curling around his elbow, both of your fingertips sinking into the warmth of what could be.
“Eddie!” 
Eddie removes his hand from you as if your skin is hot to the touch, and you drop your hand as well, curling your fingers into the palm of your hand and clenching with a deep breath.
Eddie turns to Richie, who’s holding a clipboard and barking directions at staff and crew. “Come on, man, you’re on in 30.” Richie waves his hand.
Eddie turns back to you, dark eyes now cleared and holding urgency as he speaks, “Can you just— fuck,” Eddie tugs at his curls, and your face twists in confusion. You say his name at the same time that Richie calls him once again, and Eddie grumbles, “One second, Rich!” Eddie calls back.
“Just don’t go anywhere for the first few songs, okay?”
“What?”
“Eddie, 10 seconds!” 
And Eddie’s pacing backward as he speaks to you, “Just the first few songs. Please?”
Please. You never thought you would hear that word coming from Eddie— and your stomach twists, but you nod anyway, and then Eddie’s off to the stage.
For some reason, tonight has spun out in ways you’re having trouble wrapping your mind around, and you barely hear James walking out of the room until he presses a gentle hand to your shoulder, pulling your eyes to him.
He has your lightweight jacket in one hand as he offers it to you, “I was thinking maybe we could dip out now? I know a good place for burgers, and I figure we’ve seen the show plenty of times now— I mean, unless if you’d still like to watch, that’s not a problem,” He’s rambling, and you find it cute, so you reach out a hand to press to his arm and thank him for your jacket.
And you feel bad, glancing over your shoulder as you hear the crowd screaming upon the band's entrance, but you figure James is right— you have seen the show plenty of times, so one night off won’t hurt, will it? And besides, it’s not the big finale yet, so you’re not really missing anything.
You nod as you slip on your jacket, “Yeah, let’s go; I’m in the mood for a good meal anyway.”
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James’ universe is fun and bright and spontaneous, all things he is. It’s something you find yourself admiring as you watch him jump from game to game at the arcade he dragged you to after dinner.
You were both full and satisfied from heavy burgers and fries, and James decided you both needed a way to shake off the food coma; and, as James said, “What better way to wake up than lose money in a bunch of rigged games?”
You start strong with a winning streak in Mortal Kombat, Daytona USA, and Star Wars, but you eventually lose your stretch when James crushes you in Dance Dance Revolution. You made him go a second time, but you still lost, and James called your frown cute, and it made your stomach twist because— fuck, this is a date. You aren’t here as just friends.
You make your way around the arcade until you both decide to call it a night and wrap it up with a few rounds of Pac-Man. It’s chillier in the city tonight, so James takes it upon himself to haul over a taxi to take you both to the hotel.
It’s nearing midnight when you and James walk into the hotel lobby, well past the ending of the show, and you’re holding your breath all the way to the elevator, silence taking over when the doors shut. And tonight was fun and lighthearted, and you’d hate to end it on a dull note.
You should just rip the bandaid off. Do it quick and get it over with so you don’t mislead James, because god, he’s such a good guy, and you’re just… you’re all confused with yourself and— fuck, James is looking at you, just do it.
“I think we should just stay friends.” You rush out.
If James is surprised, you wouldn’t be able to tell by a long shot because he’s simply shoving a hand in his pockets and shrugging, “Yeah, I kind of figured when you avoided holding my hand.” He scratches at his neck, and you fail to hold back the sympathetic twist on your face, “I had a really great time, I did, but I just can’t do anything serious right now…” You shyly explain, and James nods his head.
It falls awkwardly silent, and you curse Richie for booking the entire crew near the top of the building because the floor numbers seem to change slower than the seasons. James breaks the silence just four floors away from your destination, “It’s Eddie, isn’t it?”
You freeze at that, head snapping to look at James in shock, “I— what?”
James shrugs for the second time and turns to the doors, “I kind of clocked it as soon as you joined; you two have some weird thing going on.” He halfheartedly teases, and you feel your body heating up because if James can notice it, then who else has noticed it? God, this is more of a mess than you thought.
“Nothing is going on there,” you lie, “Not sure if you’ve noticed, but Eddie hates my guts, so.” You jokingly shrug. James laughs to ease the tension, only glancing back at you when you slow to a stop and the doors open, “I had a fun night, too, by the way. No hard feelings.” And with a wink, he wanders off to his room, and you’re left stepping out into the hallway. When you turn the corner, you find yourself wishing the floor would open up and swallow you whole because right outside of your door stands Eddie Munson.
He watches you walk down the empty hall until you stand before him. He’s leaning a shoulder against your doorframe, one hand tucked in his pocket as the other works his cigarette back and forth from his lips. He’s in his usual all-black attire, and his eyes are dark beneath the smudged eyeliner and eyeshadow from the show. And it seems as if he got off the stage and came straight here, seeing as his hair is still slightly damp with sweat and the chains on his neck stick to his chest.
He speaks around a cloud of smoke, dark hooded eyes peering down at you with a gaze so sharp you almost cower, “Where were you?”
Jesus Christ, the audacity of this man.
Your initial thought is to snap back at him and ridicule him for being an asshole— and what’s his deal with always coming to your room? But then you remember you walked out on him when he’d asked you to stay for the first few songs.
“I’m sorry, Eddie, I—” “You went on a date.”
You freeze at that, blinking up at him as your face twists in confusion, “How do you know that?”
“Because where else would you be?” He counters.
“Maybe I got sick.” You argue, and Eddie raises an eyebrow, eyes dancing over your figure, “You don’t look sick.” He points out.
Your eyebrows pinch in frustration as Eddie takes another hit of his cigarette, “What do you want? I already said I’m sorry— which is much more than you’ve ever done, by the way.” 
“I said sorry.” Eddie snaps. Eddie snuffs out his cigarette in the large plant next to the door as you scoff, turning to angrily shove your keycard into the door, “What, that shitty apology in the garden alleyway? You call that an apology? How fucking dense are you?” You open the door, moving to step in until Eddie’s fingers wrap around your arm, turning you back to him, “I said sorry. An actual apology, I did it, and you weren’t fucking there to hear it.” He seethes.
And woah, what the fuck does that mean? You weren’t there to hear it? What does he mean?
You blink, head shaking in confusion as you gaze up at Eddie, brows furrowed, eyes searching for an answer as you ask, “What do you mean?”
Eddie’s eyes are so beautiful, with swirling pools of forest ground and the tiniest specks of honey, and you believe somewhere within his eyes lives a fairy that gives him that ability to pull you in every time. He’s a hypnosis of a human, and it’s dangerous the way you can’t seem to fight through it.
Your eyes flutter shut when Eddie leans close enough to graze his lips over yours, and your heart races in anticipation of a kiss, but you can physically feel Eddie holding himself back.
“Eddie,” you lowly say, “What do you mean?”
Eddie turns his head to where his lips kiss the skin of your cheek, breath tickling the warm skin and sending shivers down your spine. He lets out a shaky breath, squeezing his eyes tight and muttering a curse under his breath as your hands slink up his chest to curl into the fabric of his shirt. The soft, curly strands of Eddie’s hair dance across your lips, and you want to scream because every inhale and exhale of your lungs is full of nothing but Eddie.
His name prances across your tongue once more, and Eddie cracks.
Eddie cracks wide open; one last hit of your hammer, and he’s putty in your hands, mouthing at you as if his life depended on it, devouring you and breathing you and pushing you until you have nowhere to go but inside your room.
“I’m sorry,” Eddie mumbles against your lips. “I’m sorry… let me make it up to you.”
You’re breathless and dizzy from lack of air, and Eddie is pushing you back onto the hotel bed, “I— what?”
Eddie’s fingers slip under your top, cool fingers pressing into your warm skin and causing your breath to hitch against his lips, “Let me make you feel good.” Eddie whispers against your lips.
And fuck, this is insane. 
This is insane.
Just a few hours ago, you would’ve shoved Eddie away from you and told him to eat shit, but for some reason, with the way Eddie’s touching you and talking so gently, you find your body melting into his touch as you nod your head. “Yes?” Eddie seems like he doesn’t believe it, and your stomach twists as you clench your thighs together, nodding once more, “Yes.” You confirm.
Eddie kisses you once again, hastily and eagerly, as his hands push your top further up your torso. Your muscles tense and twitch beneath Eddie’s calloused fingers, and Eddie hums against the softness of your mouth, panting against your lips as he repeats, “Gonna make you feel good. Make up for what I did.”
You breathlessly laugh, “S’gonna take a lot more than this, Munson.” 
And although you were slightly serious with that comment, you suppose Eddie takes it as more of a challenge as he shoves your top entirely over your chest, pulling away to tug the shirt off of you and toss it to the side.
Eddie surges forward to press sloppy kisses against the uncovered skin of your chest, sucking tiny little marks as he moves further down your body, pressing a hand to your chest to push you down into the bed when he reaches the waistband of your skirt.
It’s a black denim skirt, and Eddie takes a moment to admire how they hug your thighs perfectly— and he can’t seem to bring himself to remove it from your waist, so he pushes the skirt up around your hips instead. Your heart is racing, and you can’t help the heat that rises to your cheeks as you attempt to close your thighs, but Eddie places his palms flat against the warm insides of them.
“Don’t tell me you’re getting shy on me already. I haven’t even taken off these cute little panties of yours.” Eddie presses a thumb to your cotton-covered clit, dragging the pad of his thumb down your slit and pressing into the damp spot. Your breath hitches, sparks flying throughout your body, and Eddie smiles. You whine, “I thought you were apologizing.” You frown.
Eddie hums, leaning forward to press a kiss right where your thigh meets the fold of your pussy. You squirm, and Eddie snickers, “I am.” He responds.
You sit up to lean on your elbows, glaring down at him between your thighs as you speak, “You’re not. You’re just teasing me.” You point out.
Eddie doesn’t respond as he hooks his fingers into the band of your panties, drags them down your legs, and drops them to the side, gaze flickering up to yours as you clench your thighs together. Eddie holds your gaze as he wraps his arms around your thighs, hooking his hands into the dip of your waist and tugging you to the edge of the bed. Your center throbs in anticipation as Eddie sinks to his knees on the carpet floor, dark eyes still locked onto yours as he fits his upper body between your thighs.
And Eddie doesn’t even bother looking between your thighs when he dips his head in and begins devouring you.
Eddie, you find, eats pussy like he has all the time in the world.
He’s sloppy with it, lapping at your center and suckling your clit until you’re a whiney mess beneath him. His fingers curl into the denim skirt that’s bunched around your hips, and his rings tauntingly wink up at you under the light as he clenches his fist against the material, tugging you closer to him so he can thrust his tongue further into you.
While Eddie is busy tasting you, you scramble to reach behind your back and unhook your bra. Between your thighs, Eddie watches as you toss the garment off to the side before cupping your tits in your hands and rolling your nipple between your middle and forefingers. Eddie moans against you, burying his face deeper into you and suckling enough to have you crying out in pleasure.
Eddie pulls back for a moment, sticky strings of his saliva and your arousal dripping from his lips as he removes one hand from your waist to sink two fingers into your cunt. You pant out his name, your face twisting in pleasure when he curls his fingers up against your walls. Your eyes are screwed shut so you don’t see Eddie leaning forward to purse his lips together and let a drop of saliva drip over your pussy and sinfully coat your clit. He’s quick to attach his mouth to the throbbing bundle of nerves, and you reach out a hand to thread your fingers through his hair, knuckles curling at the root to drag an animalistic growl from Eddie.
Eddie is one of the best, if not the best, head you’ve ever received. By the time you begin teetering over the edge, your thighs are twitching and tensing as if you’ve already come undone, and your chest is heaving beneath Eddie’s fingers as he toys with your tits.
When you cum, Eddie becomes greedier than he’d been before, licking and slurping up every last drop you have to give until you’re twitching away from him and pressing a shaky hand to his shoulder. 
Eddie slinks up your body, sinking his fingers into his mouth to clean off your wetness before you slink an arm around his shoulders and pull him down to kiss you. Eddie’s fingers are wet as they cup the left side of your face, and the feeling of something wet on your face would usually have you cringing in distaste, but you only moan and press yourself further into Eddie.
You mumble for him to take his shirt off, and Eddie follows swiftly, too eager to go back to kissing you. He shivers when your hands meet his bare chest, fingertips exploring the vast expanse of untold stories in ink, hard yet plush muscles of his arms flexing beneath your touch. 
“I wasn’t done saying sorry.” Eddie pants against your lips, and you breathily laugh, “You can finish some other time; I want to feel you now.” You respond, busying your hands with trailing down his lower stomach, sinking past the waistband of his leather pants.
Eddie kisses his way down your neck to begin sucking pretty bruises into the skin, and your core clenches when you realize Eddie is wearing nothing beneath the leather pants— and you try hard not to imagine how he’s probably been pressed up against the rough fabric, achy tip undeniably receiving pleasure from the sinful ways he uses his hips when he’s on stage. 
Your shock doesn’t end there, however, because when you sink lower to wrap your hand around his cock, your body goes still at the feeling beneath your fingertips. Against the fiery skin of your cheek, you feel Eddie’s lips stretch into a smile and your heart races.
“What’s the matter, princess? Find something you like, hm?” Eddie can’t help the way his voice shakes near the end because you're giving his cock an experimental squeeze and running a finger over the sudden surprise.
You smile as you speak, “Is that a piercing?”
Eddie hums, turning his head, nose smashing against the side of yours as he presses a kiss to the side of your mouth, “Maybe..” He teasingly confirms.
And god, you might pass out.
Eddie’s dick is pierced. You’re not sure what more you’d expect from a rockstar, but you’re still shocked and ushering him to remove the annoying restriction of his pants.
When Eddie finally gets rid of his leather pants, you’ve shifted to sit on your knees in the middle of the bed, and Eddie stalks over to the edge of the bed, beckoning you over.
You don’t waste time crawling over to him, eyes stuck on the pretty sight before you. And sure, it’s not the first time you’ve seen a pierced dick (you’ve spent too much time working with rockstars), but it sure as hell is the first time you’ll be fucking one— not to mention his cock is perfect. It’s shaped and cut to perfection, something you’d expect from a pornstar, but Eddie is not a pornstar, and god, the sight of the metal barbell nestled right beneath the pink tip on the underside of his cock— it’s dizzying to see.
You peer up at Eddie, wrapping a hand around his cock and stroking him once, chest fluttering when he fails to hold back a moan. “It’s really pretty, Eddie.” You softly say, and Eddie sheepishly and breathlessly laughs as you squeeze at his tip. “Want you to fuck me with it.”
Eddie groans, muttering a curse as he leans forward to press his lips against yours, pushing you until you’re crawling back up the bed to lay beneath him.
“I’ve never been with someone with a piercing…” You admit, and Eddie smiles at you, and your stomach twists when he reaches down to gently guide your movement up and down the length of his cock.
“Really? You’ve never fucked a pierced cock before?” He manages to say through his pleasure. Your teeth dig into the inside of your cheek as you shake your head no, and Eddie snickers when you ask, “Have you?”
His lips quirk into a smile, “Honey, you think I got the piercing done without a test run on how it feels?” He jokes.
You snort at that, and Eddie beams at you. You swipe your thumb over his leaking tip, and Eddie curses, watching as you mindlessly bring the glistening pad of your finger up to your tongue and hum. 
“How’s it taste, sweetheart?” Eddie teases, and you hum as you respond, “Good. So good, wish I could taste more—” “No, no, no.” Eddie cuts you off with a shake of his head, reaching down to wrap a fist around himself.
“This isn’t about me. Plus, I’m losing my patience right now; I’ve been thinking about this since I fucking met you.” He presses himself flat against your pussy, and you gasp, fingers digging into his shoulders as he rolls his hips to slide himself up and down your wet cunt, the cool metal of the piercing catching onto your clit and sending shivers up your spine.
His gaze falls between your thighs to watch as your slick centers meet, cursing at the way your wet folds part around each drag of his cock. “You have such a pretty pussy, princess, fuck.” He rasps.
Your mind is spinning with the roll of Eddie’s hips, his dirty compliment, and his admission that he’s thought of fucking you before. You don’t dare to tell him you’ve thought of it too or that you’ve gotten off to the thought of it. You don’t even have to think about it because the tip of Eddie’s cock is catching the slickness of your entrance, and you’re gasping, body jerking in pleasure. Your lips accidentally smear against Eddie’s shoulder, and he hums, tilting his head and dipping to catch your lips in a sloppy kiss.
As he distracts you with his mouth, he slowly presses into you, and you lose your ability to keep up with Eddie’s lips because holy fuck— Eddie is bigger than you thought. Sure, you got a good look at him when he removed his pants to show you his surprise, but your mind must’ve been too muddled with lust to clock the size of him.
You can feel everything as he sinks into you, every vein running up the sides, and the mind-numbing sensation of the barbell as he presses into you. “Holy shit,” you breathlessly whisper against the skin of his shoulder, legs tightening around his waist as the burning yet toe-curling feeling settles in. Eddie snickers above you, “That good?”
You’re coherent enough to snap back at his cockiness, “No.”
Eddie laughs, and you want to make a snippy comeback, but it gets lost on your tongue when Eddie gives his hips one experimental roll.
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Eddie is pathetically close to cumming.
Eddie’s cock has only been nestled within your warm, wet, pulsing walls for barely two minutes, and he’s about to blow like he’s a goddamn teenager— and it doesn’t help how heavenly you sound and look writhing beneath him.
Eddie’s not sure where to look; your face, your tits, or the hypnotizing sight of your cunt sucking him in over and over with each thrust he gives you. “Fuck,” he curses, “You’re taking me so well, princess.” He leans in the nose at your cheek before licking at the curve of your jaw, shivering at the wet moan you pant into his ear.
“Been hiding this pretty pussy from me?” Eddie hums, sucking a delicate bruise right below your ear. And god, Eddie could spend forever like this, drilling into you and marking you everywhere and pulling these pretty sounds from you. Eddie’s so close, oh god.
You mewl at his words, hips squirming as Eddie snaps his hips into you, “No,” you whine, “You’ve been mean to me.” And Eddie thinks you’re awfully cute when you’re blissed out and pouting. And your eyes are glossy, lips slick with spit and swollen from kissing.
Eddie wishes he had a photographic memory because he doesn’t want to forget a single detail of this moment. Eddie has one hand clutching the sheets beside your head as he lets the other hand coast up your side to land on your chest, thumb brushing over your nipple to pull a moan from you. “I know,” Eddie lowly replies, “I’m sorry, princess.” He kisses your chin, and you clench around him.
Eddie’s fist clenches around the sheet, fighting to hold himself back as he presses deep into you and stills, cock twitching within your walls. “Gonna let me show you how sorry I am?” He asks.
You're hazy and cockdrunk, and Eddie can’t wait to unpack the fact that you go braindead when you’re fucked good. Eddie nudges himself into you, although he’s pressed all the way into your cunt, and you whimper before eagerly nodding.
“Yeah?” Eddie teases. You nod again, fingers digging into Eddie’s arm as you speak, “Yes, Eddie— fuck. Yeah, show me, please.”
Eddie almost loses it.
It’s slightly scary how much Eddie likes this, how much he’s enjoying this— the feeling of you beneath him, the wetness, the heat, the sweat-sticky touches, and the sloppy smattering of kisses. God, Eddie’s in love with it.
The short five-second break Eddie managed to pull from questioning (teasing) you was enough for him to get ahold of himself. Eddie sits up and grasps the back of your knee, hauling your leg over his shoulder to get a better angle at fucking you, and you gasp when his cock rubs against your spot.
Eddie doesn’t waste time once he gets the position situated. He leaves one hand splayed beside your head to hold him up as the other hand grips the warm flesh of your thigh before resuming his thrusting, this time at a deeper and quicker pace.
The sound of skin meeting and the wet sloshing noise of sex echoes through the room amongst the mix of moans and sultry-soaked remarks. Eddie doesn’t notice his hand slipping from your thigh and slinking up to wrap around your neck, but he hesitates when you whimper. He almost removes his hand, but you wrap a shaky hand around his wrist and nod— and fuck, Eddie will never be the same man after this.
Eddie can feel the heat and the pulse of your heart as his fingers tighten around your neck. Your moans are becoming more and more frequent and higher in pitch, and Eddie can feel the way you’re fluttering around him more sporadically, and he can’t wait to feel it when you cum.
Eddie leans over you, lips brushing your parted ones as he encourages you to let go, “Come on, let me feel it. I’m not leaving until you soak my cock, princess.”
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Your body is on fire.
It’s almost alarming how easily and well Eddie has unraveled you. His presence is nearly overwhelming with the way he’s hovering so close over you, but you love it— the tickle of his long curls on your shoulders and chest, the intoxicating smell of him, the dizzying hold he has around your neck— you preen for it.
You’re so close when Eddie tells you to cum, and you barely have enough time to prepare for the earth-shattering orgasm that ripples through you the second Eddie presses a thumb to your aching clit and rubs tight circles against it.
Your body tenses, and your moans crack upon the surface as you melt into him until you’re nothing but a quivering mess. Eddie talks you through it, tells you how pretty you sound and how good you feel wrapped around him. Your orgasm had hit you so hard that you barely registered the broken moan that came from Eddie before he pushed deep into you and emptied every last drop of himself into your pulsing heat.
Eddie curses, his cock pulsing within you, and you let out an exhausted yet satisfied sigh when he rolls his hips into you once more. You’re both silent for a long moment as you come back down to earth, Eddie’s forehead pressed against your shoulder as you subconsciously let your hand run up the side of his torso.
Eddie shifts to turn his head to where he can slightly see your face as he still hides against your shoulder, “Apology accepted?”
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Saturday morning, the next day, you wake up and want to bury yourself under the hotel sheets.
Last night was… interesting, to say the least. It was good— mind-blowing— but you still have that lingering feeling in your chest that maybe you and Eddie shouldn’t have slept together. Maybe you let him in too quickly. Maybe it was all a lie, Eddie’s ‘apology’. All the gentle caresses and the passion-filled kisses with the heart flutter words. Maybe it was all for show, just to get you to let your walls down so he could have at you.
Eddie didn’t spend the night with you.
In fact, Eddie practically ran out the door after your extremities were over, and you were left with the aftermath of spinning thoughts and an aching chest. So much for sorry.
The dining room is buzzing with chatter and laughter of excitement— today is the last off day before the final show of the residency— but you’re too in your head to join in on the conversation because Eddie won’t even look at you.
Your throat feels tight, and you spend the majority of breakfast just pushing your food around the plate, and you manage to pull a smile and nod your head when Naomi asks if you’re okay. But fuck, you want to scream.
You should’ve never believed Eddie when he told you he’d change or when he practically spent the entire night worshipping your body and begging for your forgiveness. Eddie didn’t want forgiveness. He just wanted to fuck you, and you should’ve known that from the second he kissed you.
But Eddie’s kisses can tell a hell of a lie, and damn you for falling for them.
You’re spooked when you feel a hand rest on your shoulder, pulling you from your thoughts. It’s Richie, and he peers down at you and gives you a tight-lipped smile as he leans in and lowly speaks, “Can I speak with you outside?”
You nod, dropping your fork onto your plate and quietly rising from your chair. And for the first time today, Eddie looks at you. Your chest tightens, and you think it’s stupid that you’d been upset about this because it’s Eddie for fucks sake. He’s a rockstar, and he surely never made the mistake of presenting himself as if he was anything other than a man who fucks whoever they want and moves on the next day. Eddie’s jaw ticks, he looks away, and you bite your tongue as anger floods your body.
You ignore it as you turn around and follow Richie into the hallway.
You’re hardly paying attention when you both step out of the room, but the slamming of the door is the cue for Richie to start speaking. “Listen, Birdie,” he begins, “You know I adore you. I’m always in your corner, no matter what… But I have to put my boys first.”
It’s concerning, the way Richie is beginning this conversation, and it’s even worse when he can’t seem to look you in the eye for more than five seconds at a time. Your heart rate picks up, and you begin to think maybe…
No, Richie can’t know. There’s no way he’d know, right? Unless if someone told him. One of the band members, or James, or— fuck, there’s too many people that know at this rate. But you didn’t think it would reach Richie.
No, you’re just spinning out. Richie doesn’t know, and this is about something else; it has to be.
You shake your head, brows furrowed as you speak, “I’m not sure I understand.”
Richie glances around the corridor and shifts in his spot, scratching at the back of his neck as he speaks, “Listen, I uh,” he glances at you, and your heart drops because you now know why he’s pulled you aside. 
“I know about you and Eddie.”
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part nine
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a/n: hiiii, you made it to the end !! IM SORRY FOR ANOTHER CLIFFHANGER FRIENDS, i promise there won't be anymore from here on out (i think hehe), BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS SMUTTY LITTLE PART, thank you for reading, ilysm and i appreciate all and any feedback <3
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cutie lil taglist: @mastermindmiko @whataboutbibi @ryanmxrie @ihatepeanutss @tlclick73 @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @jesssssmaybankk @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @chloe-6123 @micheledawn1975 @demxnicprxncess @emma77645 @sidthedollface2
@daddyhetfield @s-u-t @hereforshmut @mmunson86 @welcometohellsock @lma1986 @birdsinmywalls @animechick555 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @spideydreams00 @lorosette @prestinalove @sirensleepingsoundly @nabiiturner @catherinnn
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trashworldblog · 1 year
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theeretblr · 6 months
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I'm live! I'm back in the US with my cats! Opening things you sent to my PO Box! :D
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twitch_live
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doodlesketchgirl · 9 months
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yakuminos · 7 months
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good luck on your imbibitor lunae pulls!!
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koko2unite · 8 months
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THIS IS REALL???? AAAAAAAAAAAAAA /pos
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larkandkatydid · 1 year
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LANSING, Mich. — Democrats in Michigan pressed ahead with a torrent of liberal measures on Wednesday, the boldest assertion yet of their new political power since taking full control of state government this year for the first time in four decades.
In the course of a single afternoon and evening, and despite loud objections from many Republicans, the Michigan House of Representatives voted to repeal a right-to-work law loathed by labor unions, expand background checks for gun purchases and enshrine civil rights protections for L.G.B.T.Q. people in state law. On the other side of the Capitol, the State Senate voted to repeal an abortion ban that is unenforceable but still on the books. Some of the legislation must still be voted on in the other chamber, and all of it would have to be signed by Gov. Gretchen Whitmer, a Democrat, to take effect
The rapid-fire votes were possible only because Michigan Democrats narrowly won a trifecta — control of both legislative chambers and the governor’s office — in last year’s election after spending much of the prior decade on the lawmaking sidelines.
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strawberrybyers · 12 days
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this about put me into a goddamn coma oh my god. i could run through a wall right now
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queercriptid · 1 year
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butch thighs are a place of worship btw
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laweyd · 5 months
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It all Ends with Me
Less than 2 weeks left to fetch my fairytale-horror comic at ShortBox Comics Fair !!
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