#i am like this- I will FREAK mentally if i dont sit in the same fucking seat i always do

[babyblankyerror]

Stanley not wanting to sit anywhere else at the pool because he had already decided which was his seat♡

I headcanon he has the thing where he has to sit in the same seat at the table and in the diner- it's his seat like the couch is his seat too and so is the driver's seat (unless he's teaching a bear to drive)

[whatifitis]

♡ 150 reasons - LN 4 ♡

Summary: 150 reasons why lando loves you

Author's note: idk i thought it'd be nice

CW: literally just fluff

Hi baby!! :D

I saw this trend on tiktok just now and wanted to do it for you. I love you a lot and you know how hard it is for me to show it sometimes. I thought this could be a nice small way to at least show you a bit of how much I love you. My love for you knows no boundaries. <3

P.S. if there’s any misspelings dont say shit cause im dyslexic and you know that :(

Your smile

Your eyes

The way your eyes sparekl all the time

Your rosy cheeks

Your wavy hair (you hate it but u love it)

Your heart

Your brain

Your patience with evrything (including me)

Your honesty

Your inteligence

Your humor

The way you’re always there for anyone. Doesnt mater if u know them well or not

You always listen to people and help them when they need it even if your tired

You challenge me and help me become a better person

You never judge me

You make me feel safe

You believe in me, even when idont

You inspire me everyday whether it’s work related or just life in general

You’ve seen teh good and the bad in me and you still love me

You laugh at all my jokes even if they suck

You’re my best friend (🎶you can hear it in the silence🎶)

You respect my space when i need it, even if i go about it awfully (when writing ‘about it’ i accidentally wrote ‘tit’ :I)

You give the best fucking hugs 

When i get anxious, you always help me, even if it’s just when you sit with me and help me breathe 

You took the time to learn about me and my mental struggles so that you could help me better

You make life so much more better 

You remind me that i’m worth more than i think i do

You chose me

You make me blush and happy

Your music taste is amazing as well (btw i got us tickets to see Noah Kahan)

You’re like my personal google and dictionary

You get along with my family

My mum loves you (i think she loves u more than she loves me ngl)

You get along with max and you mock sometimes and it makes me laugh so much

You stay even if im mean and dont deserve it

You sacrifice a lot

You always put others before you 

You don’t mind my gaming (even when i keep you up late with my screaming)

You always listen to me talk about the things i like 

You hold my hand in public (it sounds stupid but it makes sense ok so shut it) <3

You never give up on me

You bring out the best in me

Max said he hadn’t seen me so happy until i met you

You make me feel lucky to have u

You support my career and stuff even though it gets really hard sometimes

You make the bad days better

You make everyday better as well, not just the bad ones

You never make me feel bad or ashamed about feeling certain ways

You always validate me when i need it

You never lie to me

You always tell me straight up when im the one in the wrong

The way you smell

The way you look when u see me

The way you hold me tight even if i’ve just raced singapore and am sweating out of every crevise

You stay strong for the both of us

Your attitude

Your kisses

You’re always down to play video games with me (IM SORRY FOR IT TAKES TWO I DIDNT KNOW IT WAS HARD)

The way you call me your love

You stand up for me even when im not deserving of it

Your cooking skills

The way you play with my hair

How we’re able to joke with eachother

The way you tell stories

The way you talk in general

How funny you were when telling me about work and snot shot out of my nose 

You match my freak

Your singing (even if its off key sometimes)

You never doubt me

U dont mind my clinginess (sorry about scaring u in the shower the other day as well)

You never tell me to go away

You always communicate with me

You plan things for our future

When you send me vlogs when im away (or even when im home but youre at work)

You make my heart feel full

You’re consistent with loving me. Whether you’re sad or mad or happy or anything, you still love me the same

Youre never too busy for me

The way we can just sit in silence together and do nothing but still have fun

The way you help me pack when im getting ready to travel

The way you pack my favorite snacks for me when im going away for a while

We can share victories together, big or small (lol big or small, ya know, like dicks)

You never make me feel alone

You watch stupid ass movies with me all the time

You dont get mad at me when you try to teach me to play valorant (it’s fucking hard, csgo is better anyways)

The way your face lit up and you started talking faster when you were talking to me about your favorite artist

The way you speak to me so gently when i need it

The way you make a playlist for every mood possible

The way you make a playlist for every book you read, even if the book was bad

How you insist we don’t have enough driving playlists so we always make more

The way you introduce me to new things (i still wont try fish, screw that)

Youre adventurous

You put up with my shananigens

The way you made a million stickers on whatsapp

How you always say ‘i love you’ with the ‘i’

When you tell me goodmorning and goodnight even if youre mad at me

How you help me dress better

How u kiss me in a way that screws me up forever

How you always ask me about my day

How you always put your leg on mine

How you show me how forever feels

How you put up with my stupidity (I REALLY THOUGHT THE MATTRESS WAS GONNA HELP)

You’re gonna be an amazing mum someday

How you spam me with tiktoks

Your laugh is the best sound ive ever heard

Youre beautiful inside and out

How u were able to make me laugh even after i’d poked by hand with a knife when i tried cutting an avocado

How you helped me escape the bed sheet when we discovered my new found claustrophobia

How you always rep mclaren and quadrant merch

How you always make backed goods and make them healthy sometimes so i can still eat them

How when we’re out and you can tell im anxious

And when you realize it you find small ways to ground me like holding my hands or tapping my foot with yours

You love the pictures i put in the new digital frame (you cant lie and say u dont like yassified alonso)

If im hungry in the middle of the night, you join me in snacking or ordering a whole pizza

How you know you’re lactose intolerant but still eat dairy filled foods

And how you lock me out the room when you have to deal with the aftermath of eating dairy

How you're already naming our future children

How you laugh til you cry at 3 in the morning from watching tiktoks 

And waking me up to watch them with you

How you get so excited when talking to me about the last book you read 

How you tell me about the book theories you hear and your own theories (violet’s mom was definitely venin)

How when u find me snacking in the middle of the night, you don’t question it

How we have dance parties in the living room

How you quote random things all the time, especially tiktok sounds

Your love for musicals

How you say “me and boq” every 5 mins

Your unconditional love for not just me, but everyone 

Your love knowing no boundaries

The way you didn’t get scared away when faced with so much hate and shit when we first started dating

Your strength

How you learned the “wait, they dont love you like i love you” thing in different languages

Your high streak on duolingo

Your creativity

Your piano skills

Your love for celsius (although it’s not good for you and you should probably slow down on them :( try coffee instead)

How you and my mum go shopping together all the time

How you’re invited home more than i am…

Your dedication to work

Your work ethic (it’s not the same as the reason above)

Your vast knowledge of everything in Marvel

How you interact with the fans

How you show me off in every way possibel (i might've said this already)

How you help me with quadrant shit

How you give me a room tour anytime youre somewhere new

The light you emit

The way you make everything so much brighter

How you always try to learn new things (we should try tarot reading again, that one was fun and we can scare the shit out of max with it)

The way you never let go no matter what

The way you always give back to people

The way you live everyday like it’s the last

The way you love me and hold onto me

[venomgender]

13 + 22 for cjhua and 26 for dogwalk. lol<3

13. Do they have any disdain/contempt for each other? How do they show it?

i am honestly trying to think so hard on something that would actually honestly bother the other bc it feels like such a cop out to be like 'no they loooooove each other too much <3' but like. like. i dont think so... not really.

LIKE OK. neither of these 2 things would fall under disdain or contempt BUT,

for jaehui, i really do think that there is a small part of himself thats like truly bothered by just how flirty shua is, just because jaehui is both incredibly insecure and incredibly possessive, but he KNOWS thats not normal or healthy bc shua is his own person and they have both discussed and agreed on boundaries a la having flings with other people and stuff, which he REALLY TRULY IS FINE WITH, he just has Issues! so he just ignores those feelings of his <3 like always <3

though of course it definitely does show with the. collar. and general clingy-ness. and like its def different with Strangers (bc jaehui is very much no emotion except nice and pleasant ones for 5 years in public) but i do think when shua and jotch are flirting at least jaehui is like glaring daggers into jotch (at least at the beginning before choijotchieshua becomes real). which jotch is almost definitely obsessed w because hes a FREAK. but you knew this of course

for SHUA, it is of course jaehui's entire "im going to keep all my emotions bottled up until i die" shtick. i think like at the beginning of their relationship it was like pure annoyance since shua could like Kinda Tell When Jaehui Was Lying About That Shit (bc being a catperson makes him mildly empathetic in the same sense that like. your own cat always seems to know when to comfort you when youre sad) (<-explaining for people who dont know my ocs but are reading) and thast just! really fucking annoying! but its also something thats alsways been annoying for shua so whateverrr who caare. right.

but once they like Actually Get Together, and jaehui has a mental breakdown from bottling up his emotions thats so intense people quite literally die, the like pure annoyance from jaehui's emotional constipation defiently shifts to one of actual concern... because bottling your emotions up that tightly isnt healthy! and shua loves him! and he knows! he fucking knows when jaehui is doing that shit too! so it hurts him! but i wouldnt really describe that as actual contempt or even Annoyance but just overwhelming concern...

22. When were they the most vulnerable with each other?

once again the cop out answer would defiently be when they were trapped in eternal nothingness for however long that would be. LOL. because theres nothing you really can be except vulnerable when the only other thing in existance is 1 other person...

but, i really do think the Actual Answer would be right after jaehuis breakdown... obviously before then they were already really flirty with each other + they obviously both knew the other person had Some Sort Of Issues (jaehui more than shua lmao...) but i dont think either of them realized just how much the other one meant to them until that point. like jaehui's break down happened because he saw shua hurt. of everyone in that room shua was the only one (jaehui included) completely unharmed by jaehui. when shua saw jaehui loose all rationality his first concern wasnt for himself or those around him but instead for jaehui. for the first time ever protecting people from a threat wasnt his first priority, it was protecting a threat (jaehui) from people...

so i think once they get out of there + finally have a moment of peace they just. sit there. and shua is of course the one to start talking first but jaehui isnt that far behind and they just completely lay everything out on the table. i dont think shua would have ever brought up being betrayed by sworn brothers until that night (though its pretty easy to infer) and in turn thats the first time jaehui ever admits (even to himself) that despite how much love he has for his master he still also resents him for forcing jaehui to grow up in that environment that was so obviously detrimental for him.

so yeah. post jaehui getting too silly i guess <3

26. How would these characters react to being stuck in a small room with each other?

lol <3 i think jaehui would loose his mind a little <3

REALLY TRULY i think it depends on how small + for how long would they be stuck + how well do they know the bjs atp (which btw for all the beautiful people reading this that arent xander you can learn more about the bjs at @jotchia SMILE.) but for this ask i will establish these conditons:

Pretty Fucking Small. i am imaging my old bedroom that was 10x10 ft sq and barely had room to fit a twin sized bed and desk in. and we will say that theyre trapped for a seemingly indefinite amount of time. and that at this point all of dog walk are bffs5ever (so post choijotchieshua threesome)

i think, at the beginning, both jaehui and shua wouldnt really mind that much. at least assuming that they were trapped bc idfk a doorknob fell off and not that they were magicked into an inescable room (they would be much less chill about this for i think very obvious reasons)

but they wouldnt mind that much AT FIRST. i fucking know shua and jotch would get in some completely pointless argument that samir would start goading on and jaehui would then join in on the goading after a few minutes. LOL. in my beautiful mind actually now that im thinking of this scene specially its like. they get stuck -> try to find a way out -> realize both magic and brute strength wont work -> jotch makes some annoying fucking comment towards shua about like 'wowwww some ultra powerful magic swordsman you are!' -> shua immeidetly takes the bait -> samir joins in on the teasing while jaehui and bernie keep trying to find a way out -> jotch ends up saying something pathetic which makes jaehui join in on the teasing (but towards jotch and shua.) -> bernie is Can yall please either help me find a way out while arguing or just be quiet -> bernie ends up joining in on the fun too and they all end up laughing and its so shweets <3

and i think this good atmosphere would last for a good while. i said indefinite amount of time earlier but to put a reference lets actually say theyre trapped for 24 hours i think they would all be in pretty good will for about 4 of those hours. jaehui can like conjure a couch for them to sit in and food if they get hungry and stuff so its Chill. but jaehuis social battery only lasts so long and as much he enjoys the bjs company. well!

i think hours like 5-8 shua is still going strong but jaehui is just slowly getting quieter and quieter til by the end of those 3 hours hes just like purley in the opposite corner of everyone else just staring off into space. hes so over it LOL. and not even 10 hours in to the preestablished 24 huh <3

i do think though it would continue on about the same from there, probably by the end of hour 8 All of them are over it at least a little (i dont want speak on your guys though) and like obv would all be doing their best to not annoy the shit out of each other (i can see a scene where jotchie tries to tease jaehui to get a rise out of him (bc jotchie is. well. you know!) and jaehui snaps at him and jotch is like ahaha! my bad! that was really hot but i wont risk it beyond that! whoops! sorry!) and it just kinda continues from tehre but by hour likeee. 11 or 12 shua and jaehui are defiently like completely clinging onto each other because haha #trauma and like shua would still be talking to the bjs like normal but jaehui atp is just almost completely shut down only talking to shua via telepathy Not Doing Well At All. smile!

i said 24hrs but i cant think about any like Major change after that whatever you udnerstand. jaehui has issues what else is new. SMILE. when i sat down to answer this ask i had more thoughts about this in my mind and then like 2 fucking hours passed and im still answering this ask and its 3am and the thoughts have escaped me. but thas ok. i think in the 4 hour period where theyre so normal they would play azul. mainly because i cant stop thinking about dogwalk playing azul

[mithliya]

How did you figure out/come to terms with being a lesbian? If you don't mind me asking. It was difficult enough for me to and I am very lucky with where I live/my parents not being deeply religious. I can imagine it was even more difficult for you

my parents aren’t religious either so that wasn’t a problem for me! but yeah it was hard to figure things out since i’m from quite a religious and homophobic society. it was also additionally more difficult bc of me having faced trauma when i was in my early teens, which added to the confusion i felt.

idk i think just knowing of other lesbians and having read other lesbians’ experiences helped me realise it more, but i recall feeling a way about this one girl in class and when i told this guy that pressured me to be with him, he was like “now u can finally understand how i feel about u” (bc i genuinely did not understand the concept of attraction and would always question him on it). that was what made me realise i’m into women.

it took me a while to then realise that women are like ACTUALLY attracted to guys. i just thought it was normal to find guys ugly and their bodies unattractive and to find kissing and romance cringe and nothing interesting (actually i thought maybe that made me demisexual or asexual, i didn’t even consider that maybe i’m just attracted to women & not men). i remember doing those quizzes and the kinsey scale test and so many tests repeatedly and one day i just thought to myself “i think i’m a lesbian”, i was 18 at the time and it was the first time i even allowed myself to consider it bc i didn’t even want to consider that i’m not into guys before then. i remember feeling like i got a really high fever and almost paralysed, like this massive panic that i only ever felt one other time in my life (when i realised that i erased that something extremely traumatic had happened to me). i cried and freaked out and panicked and wished it could change but i already knew for sure at that point that if nothing i had done in my life managed to “fix” this and make me into men, then nothing will. then when i first kissed a woman & we had sex, i knew there was no way i was anything but a lesbian bc even tho she was awful in bed and annoying and it wasn’t a good sexual experience, it felt.. right. it didn’t feel like i was doing something unnatural or forced for once.

luckily my mom accepted me pretty quick. i never told my dad but sometimes i feel like he knows, but i dont plan on sitting down & coming out to him ever bc he’s homophobic. in general, my situation is quite atypical for my country bc i come from a non-religious & communist family (from my mom’s side, which is the side i’m close to) and having experienced trauma and such, so i don’t have the same experience with coming out & realising my sexuality as the average bahraini lesbian. i never thought homosexuality was wrong and i was that one person fighting everyone else in class for saying being gay is a mental illness or a result of bad upbringing (& then running away crying bc they’d all gang up on me to say it is unnatural etc). the hardest part for me was coming to terms with not liking guys bc i realised i could never have a normal & complete life in my country and it made me realise that even if i WANTED to live in bahrain, i won’t be able to be happy there and would probably kill myself if i have to stay there and be closeted again.

so.. basically i had to do some introspection and gain some self-awareness and actually think about it, and then i had to listen to my feelings for once.

[mmunson86]

“I guess I’m just not boyfriend material, ya know?” Eddie shrugs.

You never truly know until you try Eddie i wouldnt say all that now, Steve may be everyones type or it may seem that way but look he isnt my type ( i love him platonically) and thats it🫶🏻

“Eddie was your friend, that had been made abundantly clear”

You know it freaking hurts to see him say he isnt “boyfriend material” yet here we are friend zoned by the man himself like Eddie look over here we exist 😭

“It’s just,” Eddie was so over this inquisition, “she asked if I wanted to get coffee.”

Making a mental note never to as Eddie if he would like to have coffee with us , if we ever get the nerve to tell him how we feel😂

“You can date me, as practice!” You said it as if it was the simplest concept in the world”

Oh fuuck we went for it, i like this idea i really do but do i really want to be this mans test dummy? We will end up getting hurt & that my friends is scary asf

“I suppose you are the most brutally honest person I know,” Eddie doesn’t sound convinced. 

I have never felt more friend zoned & terrified of getting my heart broken like i do right this moment😂😭

“cool? Would you like to come see my band play this weekend at The Hideout? We-“

I am getting a kick out of seeing him struggle to ask us out like come on Eddie put some more pep in your step😂

“I know how to tell if someone finds me attractive, y/n, I’m not stupid,” he said casually

Okay relax Romeo remember why you are here “fake dating” us because clearly you need help so shut it🥰

“You return to your drink, trying not to think too hard about the girls that Eddie brings to bar bathrooms or his van or wherever.” 

Like I said, pain! its a little painful, but we agreed to it so we’re gonna help him out but I’d be lying if I wasn’t ready to start crying 😂😭

“Oh my gosh, a Leo! This will never work out, cuz I’m an asparagus…”

I am cackling , sorry Eddie i guess we were not meant to be because we are a vegetable😂

“his other hand suavely cupping the side of your cheek, His hips angled into yours, pinning you back against the vinyl, almost collapsing back into it.” 

Yeah, there’s going to be harder than I thought because in this moment, I don’t want to be his fake girlfriend. I want to be his real girlfriend just kiss us you fool, Eddie Munson are you sure you are not BS’ing with the “ i am not a romantic” because this is screaming otherwise

“He wasn’t relationship material, and you were the picture perfect girlfriend that he didn’t deserve.”

You’re telling me that he sees us the same way we see him, but his insecurities are making him think he can never be a good boyfriend to us? I’m going to smack him because yes, you can be boyfriend material and you just have to let yourself go🥲

“He squeezed his eyes shut the moment he caught himself checking your ass out as you walked away, and let his head rest down on the steering wheel. He was fucked”

Yeah you are fucked buut is it bad that you are down bad for us Eddie? Like just embrace it 💗

“half stunned Eddie, who was still processing how in the hell this was your idea of a romantic date”

You see Eddie not all of us need to be taken out to some fancy dinner in order to consider it a date, a picnic actually sounds so much more refreshing than having to go sit at some overpriced restaurant if I’m being honest 🙃

A bedazzled hat with “hot momma”’on it screams Eddie i love it😂

“Yeah, I’ll punch a mosquito right in the face, to defend your honor and all that.”

He is such a dork how can we not fall for this man, go off Eddie defend our honor that mosquito has it coming 😩

“are you a sweet kiss on the picnic kind of girl, or an up against the wall kind of girl?

We are both Eddie Munson but i guess you will never find out until you finally tell us how you truly feel about us and drop this “fake dating” & actually date us FR FR☺️

Siiir we are wating for our “fake boyfriend” to come back from the bathroom i dont want to be rude but will you kick rocks?!

Oh Eddie i have a feeling that was not “fake jealousy” that was real jealousy and its okay we do not mind one bit

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” Eddie turns to face you, having thrown all his darts, “for real.”

You see why we need to just let our true feelings out clearly we both are crushing on one another but cant get out of our own heads😅

“such a good girl for me, perfect pussy squeezing my fingers so tight, can’t fuckin wait to feel you soak my cock.”

Holy fucck yeaah we are done for, Eddie can do whatever he wants with our body we are his mind , body & soul🥰

Holy fucckinnnng shit normally I would give little recaps of the SMUT but the SMUT is so great ladies and gentlemen, you are going to have to read this start to finish in order to find out how good it is because I am not giving any of it away😌🫶🏻

“I’d give you everything, if you’d let me,”

Eddieeeee give us your heart and we promise to care for it like no other🥹

“The girl of my dreams offers to do all this no-strings-attached romantic shit, I’d be the dumbest man alive to turn that down.”

Then take the leap you fool, make the first move Eddie i beg you take the chance you know you are more than capable of making us happy😭💗

“You’re the kind of girl that after three dates he’ll already have a ring picked out. You’re everything, and I’m nothing, so forgive me for sparing you of that.”

You are more than capable of loving us & being our person Eddie stop selling yourself short and allow yourself to actually feel/connect with a person for fucks sake you are more than capable of loving & being loved you dipshit, gosh i hate you & love you at the same time😩

Holy fucck this was so good seriously from start to finish this was such a good fic , i love love love how in the end he finally let himself go and is willing to love & be loved i am sobbing😭💗

The Girlfriend Experience

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie doesn’t think he’s cut out for dating. Self-resigned to a life of one and done hookups, you’re determined to make him see that he has the capacity to be a worthy companion… for when the right girl comes around. Fake Dating AU, classic corny fic for a fav corny troupe, Stranger Things canon divergent ofc, 18+ smut (see warnings below), big dick energy but also slightly emotionally unavailable!Eddie, yada yada yada, you know the drill. 

Content warnings: AFAB reader with she/her pronouns, use of y/n, alcohol, smoking the devil’s lettuce, mention of panty stealing, food consumption, semi-public sex, fingering, PIV, Dom-ish!Eddie, oral (m and f receiving), pierced dick Eddie because I said so!, unprotected PIV sex, hair pulling, mild angst but nothing too angsty just like one heated conversation and Eddie feeling a little worthless but happy ending I promise

Word Count: 20k ahhhhhh!!!

A/N: Thanks to all those who comment and reblog! Your feedback and engagement makes my heart soar and keeps me motivated to write this filth! Sorry for the gargantuan length, in very-me fashion I always ending up writing one behemoth fic every so often rather than just separating it out into chapters. Also, realizing after the fact that I use the brand name ‘Goodwill’ a lot in this fic, which maybe not everyone might know is a thrift store, not sure if that’s just an American thing or not but figured it was worth noting. 

“I guess I’m just not boyfriend material, ya know?” Eddie shrugs.

“Don’t say that, Eds,” your eyebrows pinched together, “different qualities are important to different people. Not everyone is looking to date a Steve, or a Brian, or a whoever. I’m sure someone is out there looking for an Eddie.”

“It’s not that,” he shot a look towards Steve, who, despite your analogy, was unfortunately everyone’s type and the textbook definition of boyfriend material.

“I just don’t think I’d be very good at gooey romance stuff, or even like, passable boyfriend behavior. I mean, look at me, I hardly take care of myself, I’m loud, I have no money, I’m basically every dad’s worst nightmare, do I need to keep going?”

“The nightmare thing can actually be a bonus,” Steve chimes in, “the whole bad boy persona can be a huge draw for most girls.”

“Sure Steve,” Eddie’s voice grows exasperated, “I’m the mysterious bad boy until they realize I’m a huge loser who runs not one but two dungeons and dragons groups. Real fuckin’ attractive I’m sure that is.”

“Shows you’re committed to something…” you trail off when his eyes tell you to stop coming up with a positive spin for every excuse he gives. 

This whole discussion had started because of something that happened at the bar last night. A small group of you decided to meet up for drinks, your usual group of pals. It was a Thursday, so the bar wasn’t too busy. Your friends all squished into a booth in the corner, chatting and catching up over a plate of shared nachos, when Robin started making frantic gesture at you and Steve.

“Please just say what you’re trying to say instead of this elaborate charade,” Steve makes a few mocking hand signals back at her.

“Okay, one at a time, and keep it subtle,” her voice lowered to a whisper, for some reason, “over at the bar, some girl is totally flirting with Eddie.”

You and Steve both turn around. “I said not at the same time!” She whisper yells. 

There was, in fact, a pretty girl with shiny hair and glossy lips doing a half fake laugh and pressing her manicured hand to Eddie’s bicep. You whip back around to find Robin with her mouth hanging open in a “can you believe this is happening” way. 

“Good for him,” Steve swivels back around too, “She’s pretty hot.”

You return to your nachos, pretending there wasn’t a ping of jealousy in you. Eddie was your friend, that had been made abundantly clear.

When Robin introduced you to all her friends from high school, you had easily gotten along with all of them. You especially got along with Eddie. He was funny, authentic, abrasive at times, but a truly good person at his core, creative, protective, you could go on.

After getting to know him a bit, and developing a budding crush, you had made a few passes at him. Nothing too forward, just small compliments here and there, open ended offers to hang out that never lead anywhere.

It’s not like he flat out rejected you, but any feelers you were putting out to see if there was potential there were met with him looking past your flirtatious intent and just being his goofy, friendly self. He treated you exactly the same way he treated everyone else, which was awesome, except for when it wasn’t. 

“Oh no,” Robin’s gaze was not subtly fixed on the unfolding scene at the bar, you and Steve watched her face drastically shift from confused, to a cringe, to an eye roll.

Still half whispering, as if Eddie could even hear your corner of the bar, “He’s totally blowing it. DON’T both turn around at the same time again.” 

“Okay, so,” she starts before either of you can even confirm that you want to know, “she was totally laying it on thick, like you could see it from all the way back here. And he must have said something off putting, cuz all of a sudden she like went cold on him and pranced away. Shhhhh, okay okay, he’s coming back.”

She was acting as if she wasn’t the only one gossiping. You and Steve were innocent bystanders in all this. 

“WHAT was that?” She immediately blurts out when Eddie returns to his seat, fresh drink in hand. 

You and Steve share a side glance to sigh at Robin’s inability to be subtle, god bless her. Eddie shifts around awkwardly and lets out a forced dry laugh, taking a long sip from his drink before facing the wrath of a curious Robin. 

“Oh, that,” he gestures to the bar as if she could be asking about anything else, “some girl. Not sure.”

“Not sure? Eddie she was FLIRTING with you,” Robin all but yelled, causing Steve to scan the bar to see if the girl in question had landed somewhere within earshot. 

“I know that,” he hisses, “She just… wasn’t my type…”

“Okay sure, hot girl in a tube top and no bra isn’t your type, riiiiight,” Steve rolls his eyes.

“It’s just,” Eddie was so over this inquisition, “she asked if I wanted to get coffee.”

You, Steve, and Robin all give him a blank stare, trying to decipher what he could possibly have against getting coffee with a hot girl. 

“That’s like,” he gets defensive, detecting the wall of confusion facing him, “something people do on a date. Coffee is serious, and I’m not a very serious guy.”

“What do you mean ‘coffee is serious,’ coffee is like, as casual as you can possibly be?” Steve’s tone now emulated Robin’s from earlier, half whispering, half yelling, all scolding towards his friend. 

“That’s just not really my speed. Coffee dates and flowers and hand holding and all that,” he was avoiding eye contact with all three of you, “Yeah, she was hot, sure, and maybe if she had been like ‘hey lets go fool around in the bathroom’ then I wouldn’t be here having this lame ass conversation with you three. But I don’t do coffee dates, so I’m not gonna waste her time and pretend like I’m that sort of guy when I’m just not.” 

“Well good on you for not leading her on, cuz I’m sure you could have agreed to the coffee date and still gotten lucky in the bathroom,” Steve mumbles, and you smack the back of his head lightly to scold him. 

“So you only date girls who’ll fuck you in a bar bathroom the first time you meet?” You redirect your now equally scolding energy to Eddie.

“No!” He runs his hands through his hair, “I don’t date. Anyone, really. At all. Ever.”

“Oh,” you think for a minute, realizing in your few years of friendship you never had seen him with anyone, or heard him mention a romantic interest of any sort. 

Leading you to your present conversation, you and Steve continuing to question Eddie on his decision to reject the hot tube-top girl at the bar and why he felt like coffee was such a scary commitment. 

“You guys know me,” he continued to defend his stance, “If I took that girl out for coffee she probably would have picked some fancy hoity toity place and I wouldn’t know what anything on the menu meant, I’d probably spill something or like, get crumbs everywhere, and the bill would be way more than two coffees should be. It would have been a waste of both our time.”

He was staunchly refusing eye contact with the two of you, knowing he’d be met with something along the lines of pity. 

“Fine, we’ll drop the subject,” you shoot a look to Steve, “but I just need to make sure you understand that not every girl likes expensive coffee, or flowers and handholding, or whatever your expectation of girls and dating is. There’s plenty of girls who have similar interests to you, who feel the same way about PDA and mushy romance stuff that you do. You do know that, right?”

“Of course I do, y/n,” you could practically feel his eyes rolling at you, “but girls like that sure as fuck aren’t here in Nowhere, Indiana. Even if she was, I’m sure I’d still find a way to fuck it up given that I’ve had exactly zero serious girlfriends and the closest thing to a date I’ve ever been on is when you me and Steve pooled our ski ball tickets to win that ugly stuffed turtle.”

The memory of what you had all agreed to be the world’s ugliest stuffed animal caused all of you to crack a smile. Steve had silently agreed to change the subject, not wanting to dig Eddie any deeper into his pit of self despair. 

Steve’s mouth was half open, about to suggest that the three of you have a smoke and watch one of the rental movies he brought over, the words just about to escape him when you harshly cut off any chance at ending the pity-party.

“Date me!” You exclaim, without much thought. The shocked look from both boys caused you to rapidly back pedal , “You can date me, as practice!” You said it as if it was the simplest concept in the world. 

When met with gaping mouths and confused stares you continue on, “You and I can be fake boyfriend-girlfriend for like, a month, and I’ll tell you everything you do wrong, and like generic do’s and don’t’s, so that way the next time some hot girl hits on you, you can be all like ‘Coffee isn’t really my thing pretty lady, but I’d be down to get drinks sometime’,” you did a silly impression of Eddie’s voice, and then switched to a high pitched one to impersonate what you assumed the girl at the bar sounded like, “and then she’d be all like, ‘Oh yeah that sounds greaaaaat, getting coffee is just like, a generic catch-all thing that most people say when they want to get to know someone better, but you can buy me a drink’ and then the two of you will ride off into the sunset and it’ll be great.”

Still no reply.

“It won’t be all romantic and gooey, I promise I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to. It’d be a way for you to get some honest feedback and catch up with the stuff most people have to learn the hard way.” 

“I suppose you are the most brutally honest person I know,” Eddie doesn’t sound convinced. 

Steve just looked between the two of you with eyebrows raised, not knowing if giving his opinion on the matter would be appreciated or not. “I guess I would’ve appreciated someone telling me that most girls don’t want to be asked out with a pickup line from a John Hughes movie, would have saved me a few dozen rejections.”

“I’m pretty sure Robin did tell you that…”

“I don’t know y/n,” Eddie scratches his head. 

“It’ll be easy. Ask me out.”

“Huh?”

“Ask me out, for practice, ask me out on a date like I’m a pretty girl you met at some metal show or a DnD convention or something like that,” you stand in front of him with your hands out as if to prompt him to say something. 

“Will you go out with me?” He sounds more like he’s asking himself if he even wants to be asking the question.

“No.”

“What the hell!” He throws his hands up.

“I said no because that wasn’t a very good effort. Go out where? To do what? You’re asking me, a pretend stranger, out on a date Eddie, not if I want to go have a smoke with you.”

“Ughhhh,” he spun around and tried to get some sympathy for Steve, who unfortunately was on your side with this one. 

“A compliment or two doesn’t hurt as well,” Steve added, deepening Eddie’s groan. 

“Hey pretty stranger lady,” his voice was laced with sarcasm, but at least it wasn’t disdain, “you seem really…” he hesitated to find his words, “cool? Would you like to come see my band play this weekend at The Hideout? We-“

“No,” you cut him off.

“WHA-“

“Eddie, you can’t ask a girl to watch Corroded Coffin play for your first date with her, that’s like date four or five material, no girl wants to go sit by herself at a bar to watch some guy she just met play an hour of heavy metal. She would have to know you a little bit more for that to feel organic. Pick something more generic, like coffee.”

“I think you seem cool, would you like to get coffee with me?” it all came out as one monotone mumble from him. 

“Sure,” you wait for him to lift his head up to make eye contact with you, “But coffee isn’t really my thing, maybe we can go out for drinks?”

“Oh fuck off,” he flopped back onto the couch next to Steve. 

“See, now we have our first fake date, and then you can ask me to be your fake girlfriend, and then you’ll be so comfortable with emotional vulnerability that you can find a real girlfriend to take on real dates.”

“Yeah, I suppose it could be beneficial,” Eddie was slowly coming around to the idea. He knew that he was oddly charismatic at times, but he was just always too self conscious to follow through with the whole romance thing.

This maybe wasn’t a bad idea, because he knew you weren’t the kind of person who would make fun of his hobbies, or put him down if he slipped up, the sorts of things he was always afraid of girls doing. Sure, he’ll agree to the girlfriend experience. 

After a night of movies and pizza with Steve fake-third-wheeling, you made sure Eddie knew that the fake-date was actually happening, that the two of you would go out for drinks this weekend as your first official practice date. 

After giving it a bit of thought, you realized that you and Eddie had never hung out alone. In your feeble attempts at flirting with him all those months ago you had invited him to have movie nights or grab a bite to eat, but he always showed up with Steve and or Robin in tow.

As the night of the fake-date rolled around, you’d be embarrassed to admit it to him, or Steve, who didn’t care to hide how skeptical he was about this whole idea, that you went through your normal pre-date routine. You took some extra time on your hair and makeup, exfoliated in the shower, chose an outfit you felt confident in, added a few spritz of perfume for good measure too. 

Eddie rolled up in his van, only a few minutes late, but a few minutes was very impressive compared to his typical chronic tardiness. The two of you agreed to just grab some food and drinks at your usual spot, considering you and Steve openly agreed that it would be a good first date spot in theory. 

“Hey,” he reaches across the center console to pop the door open for you, “you look nice.”

It took you a second to register as you settled into the passenger seat, and then whip around with your arm outstretched to give him a high five. He scrunches his face at you.

“High five me Eddie, that was really good! I know you usually open the door for me anyways, but the compliment right away, A+,” you flop your hand down to gently slap his, still gripping the steering wheel. 

“Don’t patronize me, y/n,” deep down he knew you weren’t trying to talk down to him, and deep down he hadn’t even given complimenting you a second thought, he really did think you looked great in your date get-up. 

On the ride over to the bar, the two of you discuss some logistics. Considering all of this is just practice dating, you don’t expect Eddie to pay for you, but you explain that in theory if he had been the one to ask you out then he should be the one to pay for the first date. 

“To me it’s less of a gender thing and more of a who asked out who thing, but I know some people would abide to the stereotypical ‘the man always pays’ standard, which is why you’d just have to be honest on date like two or three about what you enjoy doing and what sorts of things are in your budget. You can still have fun and be thoughtful without spending a lot of money.”

He asked a few questions, like if he should have gotten you flowers for a first date, or what he should do if someone asks to go to a fancy restaurant that he surely couldn’t afford. You tried your best to give solid advice, but always reminded him that every person is different and every relationship is different, so all he can do is be honest. 

You take up a spot at the bar and both order for yourselves, splitting some fries and slipping into some easy conversation. 

“Am I supposed to, like, beat someone up if a guy tries hitting on you in front of me or something like that?” you nearly choke on your drink at his question. 

“Eddie, no,” you answer, also questioning, “why the hell would you ask me that?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “My buddy Jeff was with his girlfriend at this punk show before they were even together, and some guy made a creepy comment to Amanda and Jeff just decked the guy in the face. He say’s that’s what made her want to date him, cuz he defended her honor or whatever.”

“I guess that’s sort of circumstantial, but I prefer my dates to not engage in any sort of violence,” you sip your drink, “even if it’s for my honor. I’d like your face a lot less if you were all bruised up.”

“Well I never said I would get hit,” the two of you were laughing a bit now.

Over a few cocktails you went over some first date etiquette with him. PDA and being touchy, how to follow her lead and gauge if she’s the type who wants everyone at the bar to know you’re together, or keep it strictly platonic to start. How far of a grip on the leg is too far up, that sort of thing.  

“So if she does something like this,” you fake laugh a bit too loud and, lean into his personal space, and then run your hand from his slender down his arm, “that doesn’t necessarily mean she wants to fuck you, but it’s pretty close. You’ve at least got a green flag to get a little closer to her, tell her she looks nice, maybe offer to buy her a drink.”

“I know how to tell if someone finds me attractive, y/n, I’m not stupid,” he said casually, “obviously that girl the other night was hitting on me, I’m not blind. I wasn’t going to ask to buy her a drink or try and get lucky in the bathroom because I was out with my friends. I can find a quick fuck in a bar on my own time. I was having fun with you guys, I wasn’t going to abandon all of you to talk to some stranger, even if she was hot.”  

“Oh,” you processed his comment, “Steve would be happy to know he ranks above tube-top girl.”

“Steve would be happy to be above tube-top girl in any context,” he jokes. 

“You really just find random girls in bars to fuck?” You question, not in any sort of judgmental way, just curious. 

“Not specifically, I guess I did make myself sound like some serial bar-bathroom type of guy. I never really had girls interested in me when I was in high school, at least the first four years of it. Then when we started playing regular gigs at The Hideout it was a little easier to find girls who were interested, but it was always that they were more into fucking some guy who could play guitar and was in a band, so it usually just always happened on-site, probably cuz they had an actual boyfriend or husband to go home to. Girls think I’m fun. Which isn’t untrue, I do enjoy a romp in the Hideout bathroom, or the back of my van, or wherever we end up.”

“So that’s what all those blankets are back there for,” you say with a fake scowl, referring to his van set-up. 

“Not exclusively! They make a cozy nest for smoking blunts and listening to tapes too!” 

You return to your drink, trying not to think too hard about the girls that Eddie brings to bar bathrooms or his van or wherever. 

“I just find the energy of those situations very different from like, talking and getting to know someone. Fucking is easy. I’m not interested in ruining that by adding emotions and the looming feeling like sex is contingent on me acting a certain way or checking a certain number of boxes for someone.” 

He shrugged, and you could understand where he was coming from, sometimes a quick fuck or hookup could be cathartic and easy. But it also saddened you to think that Eddie believed he had to get in and out before the person on the other end got the chance to know him. 

Moving away from the subject of his inability to be emotionally vulnerable, the two of you practice some cheesy ‘first date’ questions as you had called them. As your drinks started to settle into your system you were having more fun being silly with him, pretending to be a stranger on a first date. 

“When’s your birthday?” You ask, twirling your drink straw with your finger and making some fake flirty eyes at him to accentuate the facade of asking him a bunch of questions you mostly knew the answers to. 

“August 9th,” he flips his hair over his shoulder, joining in on your fake ostentatious flirting. 

“Oh my gosh, a Leo! This will never work out, cuz I’m an asparagus…”

The two of you nearly fall out of your bar stools laughing, realizing you meant to say Sagittarius. 

“Okay, let’s get you home Asparagus,” he helped you up, having kept his drinking to a minimum so he could drive you home. 

“Wait, wait,” you grabbed his arm as the two of you exited the bar, “can we go back to your trailer?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, “that’s a little presumptuous for a first date missy.”

“No, no, this isn’t girlfriend y/n asking, just regular friend y/n, who thinks it would be a lot of fun to smoke and watch a movie without Steve there spewing all his annoying fun facts, like, we get it, you read the little insert inside the tape while you were bored at work!”

Eddie did agree that the idea of packing a bowl and watching a few movies with you didn’t sound too different from what his plans would have been otherwise, so he agreed, as long as you promised not to give him any dating advice while hanging out as friend y/n and not girlfriend y/n. 

Although you promised to try your best, you immediately started lecturing him on t-shirt borrowing and the potential weight that could hold in a relationship when he offered to give you some more comfy clothes to change into. 

“It’s important to know!” You emerged from the bathroom in one of his oversized shirts and a pair of boxers, “Some girls are very touchy about it. Any shirt you lend her to sleep in, you have to be willing to sacrifice for life.”

“For life?!” Eddie finishes making a bowl of popcorn for the two of you, swallowing his words when he sees you in his clothes, an unidentifiable emotion rising in him at the sight of you so cozy and integrated into his space. 

“Well maybe not life,” you plop down onto the couch, “but do NOT ask for it back. Most girls will give it back once it stops smelling like you.”

“If she gets my shirt, can I have her underwear?” He asked without thinking, the weed he had just smoked with you hitting him a bit too hard in that moment. 

“Oh my god,” you squeal and bury your face into a pillow, “la la la la, pretending like I didn’t hear that!”

“I’m just saying!” He laughs at you, now curled up into a ball, “fair is fair, right?”

“I guess it depends on the girl,” you mumble. 

“So I’m guessing not you, by your reaction.”

“Eddie!” You smack him with a pillow, “I don’t know, no one’s ever asked!”

“If my girlfriend isn’t going to ask before stealing my shirt for an indefinite amount of time, I think that gives me panty privilege.”

“Wow Eddie, if I had known you were such a perv I would’ve reconsidered being your fake girlfriend,” you say sarcastically, with no real judgement behind it. The idea of him wanting to steal your underwear dampens them ever so slightly. 

“Don’t worry babe, I won’t do anything pervy to you unless you ask nicely,” he shoots a wink at you, which you meet with an eye roll and a turn away to hopefully hide the heat rising in your cheeks. 

The two of you carry out your platonic movie night as planned. You suppressed any urge to note on his actions from a romantic lens, and he ignored the itching desire to sling his arm around your shoulder or pull your legs into his lap to get more comfy on the couch. 

“Can I sleep here Eddie,” you ask after movie two, “too sleepy to move.”

“Sure, I can take the couch and you can have my bed. It’s been a minute since I washed the sheets but it shouldn’t be too bad…”

“Nonono,” you mumble, “Your legs will totally hang right off the end of this thing. I’m conked out anyways, I can crash right here I promise.”

“Ignoring that you’re my fake girlfriend, I’m not letting you sleep out here on this lumpy thing. You’re taking the bed, no arguments.”

He helps you up from the couch, letting you keep the blanket that’s wrapped around you, snaking his arm underneath it and pulling you from the couch by your lower back. You were slightly taken aback by his assistance, body still limp from your relaxed state, your torso easily arching into his. Your arms fly up to grab his shoulders, steadying yourself with an awkward giggle. 

“In the real world, a time like this would be good for a first kiss,” you make note of your closeness, the way he swept you up off the couch and held you steadily as you made your way to your feet. 

“I know that, y/n,” his face was closer to yours than it had ever been, making your words hitch in your throat. 

“Well, I’m just saying,” you turn your head to avoid the tension, “I’m sure the way you kiss your bar-hookups isn’t the way most girls who’re looking to date you long term want to be kissed for the first time.”

‘Oh yeah? And how do you presume that goes?” He kept his hand planted on your lower back.

You pretend to act wildly drunk, throwing yourself at him and letting your limbs go a bit heavier than they already were. “Ohmygod guitar man, I’ve had like, six dirty Shirleys, please finger bang me in the bathroom,” you slur your words and let your tongue loll out the side of your mouth as if to lean in for the world’s sloppiest and most uncoordinated kiss.

“First of all,” his voice was very serious, “I don’t hook up with girls who are too inebriated to stand, let’s get that straight. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t even have our first fake kiss like this on account of the drinking and smoking, gotta make sure you’re in the right headspace. Secondly,” 

He spins you around and quickly backs you up against the wall that stood a few feet behind the couch. His hand sliding up in between your shoulder blades, blanket now slumped around your waist, his other hand suavely cupping the side of your cheek, His hips angled into yours, pinning you back against the vinyl, almost collapsing back into it. 

He pressed against you, not aggressively, but enough to let you know that if you were to try and squirm away he had the capacity to keep you right where he wanted you. He accomplished this all in one elegant motion, leaving you a bit dazed.

As you started to snap into reality, he moves his hand from your cheek down to grab your chin in between his thumb and the knuckle of his pointer, angling your face directly up at him. 

“If you were some girl in a bar, it would be like this.”

The moment before your brain turned to absolute mush, you silently cringed at the thought of what you must look like, mouth hanging open, eyes glassed over, body instinctively sinking into his touch. Pathetic, you were sure of it. 

Sure, Eddie did think you looked a little helpless, but he also thought you looked perfect. Exactly as he had imagined you to in this situation. Of course he had thought about you before, like that.

Of course he had felt an immediate spark with you when you had first met. But he never flirted back, or lead you on, because as much as he was attracted to you and enjoyed your company, he knew that it wouldn’t work out. He wasn’t relationship material, and you were the picture perfect girlfriend that he didn’t deserve. 

He spoke directly into your parted lips, mouth hovering just far enough away to toe the line of ‘holy shit, is he going to?’ But no, as he made very clear, he wouldn’t kiss you under these conditions. He had made his point, and slowly backed off and let you find your footing. 

As soon as he was sure that you were steady, he backed away and started down the hallway. 

“I might have an extra toothbrush stashed away somewhere, let me look…” he ducked into the bathroom, leaving you stunned in the kitchen, head swimming and your stomach traveled up into your throat. 

He was teasing you, he must be. That was his little way of getting back at you for thinking you could give him dating advice. If he was unsure about his capacity for romance, he was going to make sure you knew he was more than capable in other ways. Understood. 

You shook your head, weeding through your inner monologue of how he could possibly look at you like that and then just walk away. Your shock gave him just long enough for you to to not notice him splashing cold water on his face in the bathroom while he “looked for a toothbrush.” 

The two of you decided to ignore the lingering tension from the events in the kitchen, not a peep of fake-girlfriend talk from you for the rest of the night. He did find you that toothbrush, and the two of you moved through a too-easy domestic routine of getting ready for bed. 

You told him that you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you knew he was cramped on that couch, and that you were fine with sharing a bed. You mumbled something about  getting around to bed sharing etiquette at some point anyways, and sleepily pulled him into being your little spoon. 

Eddie lay there, trying not to twitch or fidget, relaxed as best he could into your cuddled form thinking about how horrible of an idea all of this was. He was convinced all it would take is roughly ten more minutes of you burying your face into his hair and making cute little sleepy noises for him to fall irreversibly in love with you. 

But what was he supposed to do? Move and wake you up? Never. 

You rolled around enough in the night to wake up in a less intimate position than when you had fallen asleep. You knew Eddie was a deep sleeper, and took it upon yourself to creep out of bed and back into your day clothes, make a pot of coffee, and watc a bit of TV before he roused and joined you in the living room. 

“Why didn’t you wake me?” He rubbed the crust from his eyes and was pleasantly surprised to see you had brewed a whole pot of coffee to share. 

“You looked so peaceful and cozy,” he shook his head at you, as if that was no excuse for letting him sleep an extra forty minutes.  

After a slow morning, he agrees to drive you home. 

“So this is the part where I say ‘Eddie, I had such a wonderful time on our date. I’d love to do it again sometime.’ And then you agree and tell me when you’re free. It’s best to be super direct and make plans to get together again soon, cuz then it’s not an awkward who’s-gonna-call-who-first sort of thing.”

“Uh-huh…” he stares at you blankly. 

“But for our sake, let’s just agree that I’m in charge of planning our next date. Okay? I’ll do it from the perspective of what I think most girls would enjoy, so you can steal it for the future. I’ll call you later.” 

You hop out of his van before he can agree, and leave him with a “Thanks for letting me stay over!” As you bound away from his view. 

He squeezed his eyes shut the moment he caught himself checking your ass out as you walked away, and let his head rest down on the steering wheel. He was fucked. How the hell was he supposed to tell you that you needed to stop being his fake girlfriend without disrupting the homeostasis of your friendship?

On one hand he could lie and say he doesn’t want your advice, making you think he didn’t enjoy your company, which was entirely untrue. On the other hand he could tell you the truth, and you would never be friends the same way again. 

He drove home with the music too loud, and patiently awaited your call later that evening to iron out the details of your second fake-date. 

Per your instructions, he let you pick him up this time with the argument that you were the one taking him out this time. He didn’t know what you had planned, but let himself fall to the mercy of whatever you had decided was an exemplary date fore him to ‘steal in the future’. 

You picked up two coffees and rolled up to the trailer park, popping a mix-tape he had made you ages ago. 

“Hey, I thought we said no paying for each other with fake-dating,” he objects to the coffee sat in the passenger cupholder, some abomination of mostly cream and sugar, the way you know he likes it. 

“Yes, that’s true, but you smoked me up the other night, and this coffee was like a dollar fifty, so don’t worry about it,” you give him a look that tells him to drink the damn coffee and not sass back, to which he complies, even though he smokes you up expecting nothing in return about every other weekend. 

The two of you sip away and listen to Eddies ‘must-know-to-be-my-friend’ mixtape and arrive shortly at the strip mall across town. This was a regular weekly stop for both of you, the strip of connected stores containing the Goodwill, a pet store, the pharmacy, and grocery. A pretty mundane collection. 

“Okay, what are we doing at Greg’s?” Eddie gestures to the grocery store, the back of his mind running through the grocery list he’s been making for this week anyways.

“What’s the perfect date?” You ask, and answer for him, “a romantic picnic. But gathering supplies is half the fun. Picnic food supplies at Greg’s, some pills to get fucked up at the pharm, some turtles or something to let loose into the wild from the pet store, and then hats, cups, blanket, etcetera from the Goodwill.”

He turns to you with the most bewildered stare, which sends you into a fit of giggles.

“Okay, I’m joking about the pills and the turtles,” you nudge his arm, “but won’t it be sweet to get together some picnic supplies and then drive out to lookout point? We can still swing by the pet store to check out the ferrets though.”

To Eddie, the idea of a date involved him doing something he didn’t want to do, some awkward small talk, and spending money on shit he truly thought was useless. This didn’t sound half bad. You would “work backwards so the food purchases come last” according  to your reasoning, and he followed you in tow without any arguments into the Goodwill.

“So I’m thinking…” you start to wander into the aisles of used clothes and knick knacks, “maybe a blanket? A basket would be sort of corny, but if we find one for cheap I don’t see why not. Surely two glasses for drinking, and maybe some sun hats?”

Swiveling back around to see a half stunned Eddie, who was still processing how in the hell this was your idea of a romantic date, you grab his hand and pull him to the bric-a-brac section. 

After it got through his thick skull that the same place he had uncomfortably tried on new pants throughout his growth spurt, and picked up his daily-worn leather jacket, had the same potential to provide some silly, cheap, used items to add some flair to this picnic. 

Silly and cheap was right up Eddie’s alley. The two of you picked out mismatched champagne glasses, one with the engraved name of a couple who got married in 1943 and the other a flashy rose color with baby angel carvings dancing around the sides. 

You luckily find an on sale beach blanket, and the two of you pick out some very goofy sun hats. A floppy farmers hat for you, and a bedazzled trucker hat spelling ‘hot mama’ for Eddie.

Through the midst of your giggles and debate on whether you should buy a wooden bench to bring out to your picnic destination, Eddie found himself having a really good time with you. 

As promised, you visited the pet store and checked out the ferrets and fish and geckos. 

“If you could have any pet, what would you want?” You asked him, noses pressed against the chinchilla enclosure. 

“Jaguar,” he said, a little too quickly.

“For real, dummy,” you knock your hip into his.

“I don’t know, we never had enough space or extra money for pets growing up, so maybe someday if I had enough room for it to run around I’d like a dog or something,” he tells. Eyes still transfixed on the chinchilla behind the glass. 

“I can see that,” you imagine Eddie with some mutt from the shelter, wrestling around and giving it lots of scratches behind the ears. 

Skipping the pharmacy, you pop into the grocery store and assemble what may be the world’s most eclectic picnic. 

“That’s the definition of a picnic, I’m pretty sure,” you explain after Eddie insinuated that the gingersnap cookies you grabbed, along with grapes and a block of cheese, wasn’t exactly a meal, “you know, just a smorgasbord of whatever we want!”

Admittedly, Eddie had considered a handful of pretzels and a beer to be dinner on more than one occasion, so he couldn’t argue with you. Quickly catching your drift, the two of you picked out an assortment of snacks and some ingredients for pb&j sandwiches. 

“I thought picnics were supposed to be classy?” Eddie holds up the Wonder bread and bag of potato chips with a look that suggested his question was rhetorical.

Your response was simply to raise the, admittedly cheap, bottle of champagne you grabbed to accompany with your meal, more for the irony of drinking the bubbly liquid out of your new used glasses with your sticky sandwiches than anything else. 

You pack your supplies into a tote bag, not having found a suitable basket at the thrift store, and drive across town to a dirt paved road that leads to a nice lookout point with a view of the lake. 

“Let’s walk down the path a little bit, but not too far,” you grab the blanket and tote bag from your trunk, motioning for Eddie to put on his ‘hot mama’ hat and carry your other auxiliary supplies, “I do not fuck with bugs.”

“I’ll protect you,” Eddie puffs out his chest, making you both giggle.

“From bugs?”

“Yeah, I’ll punch a mosquito right in the face, to defend your honor and all that.”

“I know I told you not to do that, but a mosquito might be the exception to the rule.”

You found a nice little clearing not far from the car, a spot that still had a nice view but was a bit more secluded. Eddie sat pressed right up next to you, making your sandwich ‘to be a proper gentleman’ but simultaneously spilling a glob of jelly onto your leg.

“Shit,” he doesn’t think twice before leaning down and slurping the grape flavored blob off of your bare knee, tongue poking out and licking the spilt jelly from your skin.

“Eddie!” You squirm away, barking out a surprised laugh. 

“What! Your knee is clean, wouldn’t want to waste perfectly good preserves, or a napkin.”

You feel your skin tingle where his lips had touched you, for only a moment, but you still felt it. He was so confident and casual in his movements, not having any hesitation to grab your hand or brush your hair out of your face. It wasn’t under the guise of fake romance, he had always been like that. Not touchy, per se, just sure of himself. You’d never seen Eddie do anything half assed, that’s for certain.

After the conversation you shared the other night, you were unable to stop your mind from wandering to thoughts of what Eddie does with those girls in bars, if he touched him with the same confidence and sureness he put into everything else he did. 

It was wrong to let your mind go to such dirty places about someone you considered a friend, but you couldn’t manage to feel any guilt. He had offered that information freely, so who were you to punish yourself for staring a little longer at his fingers, conjuring up the context in which he’d bury them inside you against some grimy bar bathroom. 

The date was all peanut butter smiles and bubbly laughter that floated up into the trees. Silly, yes, but neither of you could deny there was something sweet, maybe even romantic about it. A cheap meal in the woods shared between two friends in ill-fitting fifty cent hats, but an undeniable touch of romance lingered nonetheless. 

Eddie started to realize that maybe the whole dating thing wasn’t as uptight and scary as he had initially thought. It could be easy and fun, with the right person. And fuck, if he could even imagine doing this with anyone but you. 

Like most things Eddie did, he did not consider any potential consequences before acting. You looked so pretty sitting there in the sunshine, sipping from your cheap ‘Martha & Dave ’43’ glass, a few sandwich crumbs dotting the corner of your mouth.

What else was he supposed to do other than lean over and wipe them away with his thumb, stroking your soft cheek and feel the warmth of your skin beneath his palm. 

“You had some,” he uses his other hand to motion at his own mouth, “and I suppose this is the sort of moment where I’d ask if I can kiss you.” 

You find yourself a bit dumbfounded, his big stupid hand on your cheek and those big stupid puppy dog eyes unrelenting in making everything he says seem so genuine.

“Are you?” You find your voice, only half embarrassed at how shy it comes out.

“Am I what?”

“Are you asking me?”

“Yeah,” his answer comes out in a way that insinuates that he never meant anything other than that, that he was always asking to kiss you, he wasn’t asking in theory, in another universe, in the context of advice. 

“Okay,” you found yourself behaving like Eddie, not really thinking of consequences before your words and actions spoke on behalf of your instincts.

Everything so far had been so easy. Your fake first date at the bar, curling up next to him in a haze, making up stories about what sort of people donated the fake palm tree or the Garfield mug at the Goodwill, imagining Eddie running around a yard with a puppy, lounging in the grass and eating your assorted picnic snacks. It was all effortless.

Suddenly, being kissed by Eddie sucked the ease from your lungs and sent your mind spiraling into a cacophony of bells and whistles and giant swirling red flags. If this is how he kissed you, casually across some half eaten peanut butter sandwiches, you’d spend the rest of your days yearning to know how he kissed someone with true intention. 

Of course, his intentions were all there, but the lingering knowledge that all of this was happening under the umbrella of “you giving him advice” or “helping practice for the next girl” poisoned any true feeling he poured into it. He cupped your cheek, soft, let his lips press into yours delicately for a moment before he felt your breath hitch, opening his mouth just enough to deepen the kiss and capture your lower lip fully. 

He was more careful, gentle, methodic with his movements and so receptive to every little signal your body gave him, it was unlike any first-kiss, heat-of-the-moment-kiss, in-the-throws-of-passion-kiss, any of it. Like hell you’d ever tell him that, inflate that big ego that fuels his snippy comebacks at you, but Jesus, was it remarkable. 

While at war with yourself internally, your heart was on the precipice of exploding in your chest from the way he snaked his hand into your hair and pressed his forehead against yours to catch a breath. You suck in a sharp breath and feel that stupid cocky smirk creep up onto that pretty mouth of his.

“’S that sufficient for a first kiss?”

“Fuck offfff,” you were still a little out of breath, smacking his chest and flopping back down onto the picnic blanket, throwing your arms up and rolling your eyes at him, “if you’re so damn confident, maybe we just should fake break up, cuz you don’t seem like you need my advice.”

“Nooooo,”he slumps down next to you, burrowing his head under your arm so he can pop up right next to your face, “I’m learning a lot, I promise! This date was so fun, and cheap! I would have never thought any of this could be remotely romantic. I’m hopeless, y/n, look at me.”

He wriggles around and gives you a big fake pout, “If left to my own devices I would probably do something horribly embarrassing or off-putting, like…” he digs his head into the crook of your neck and blew a fat, wet raspberry right into your skin, making you yelp and squeal, but his position half on top of you pins you down. 

“See!” He pulls up for air, you were in a fit of screaming giggles, “I’d go right in for a kiss and just,” and he does it again, leaving you gasping for air, trying your best to tickle his ribs to get him off of you, but not minding the close contact by any means. 

“Now I’m not so sure,” he pulls back to give you a minute to catch your breath, “it seems like you enjoyed that, so maybe survey says I should pull that move on the ladies.”

Your airy laughter subsided, but he stays half pinning you down to the blanket and the lumpy grass underneath.

“I didn’t mean to give you the impression that I’m not grateful for your help,” he says earnestly, catching your gaze, “it’s just… this isn’t what I need help with.”

As his statement is processing, you find his lips back on yours, his torso pressed flushed with yours and his wild mane of hair coming down to curtain around your head. He doesn’t take it too far, but kisses you as earnestly as he had before, giving your lip a slight drag with his teeth and running his hand up from your hip up the side of your ribcage, leaving you arching slightly into him by pure instinct.

Before your head got too dizzy again, before you could really throw yourself into it and say fuck it and kiss him back the way you secretly wanted to, he pulled back.

“That.” his voice was even, you hated how needy you felt and how even keeled he could be milliseconds after stealing the air from your lungs, “It’s the rest of it,” he threw his hands up and gestured to all the food and knock knacks around you, “it’s this stuff that you make seem so easy, so forgive me if I lay it on a little thick when we get to the parts I’m actually good at.”

“Just,” you sat up a bit, grounding yourself and formulating a response despite your brain looping the past twenty seconds back infinitely, “don’t do that again.”

“Okay,” he sat back and popped a grape into his mouth, “sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” you knocked his knee with yours, struggling to articulate how you felt without showing too much of your hand, deciding to just be candid, “I just- I liked that a little too much if you know what I mean. And this is strictly business, or education, maybe?”

“You liked it when I pinned you against the wall the other night,” he said matter of factly, “I think you liked that a little too much too, and you still took me on this fake educational business date.”

“Yeah, well, you caught me,” you threw your hands up in defense.

“Which one is it though?” He asks and you don’t quite understand, “are you a sweet kiss on the picnic kind of girl, or an up against the wall kind of girl?”

“That’s none of your business, as far as fake-dating is concerned,” you say a little too quickly, “and no you can’t have my panties.”

You say it with a smirk, but he doesn’t press any further. He turns and does that Eddie-thing he’s so good at, just changing the subject and shifting the vibe completely away from what might have been a stale moment or awkward pause. He starts asking if you like green or purple grapes better, going off about how he used to put them in the freezer as a kid. 

The remainder of your date went without a hitch, of course. You picked away at your picnic until the sun started to set, and once the sky started turning purple you made your way back to the car. The drive home consisted only of easy conversation and no further mention of the kiss, well, kisses that had transpired. He hopped out of the passenger seat with a ‘thank you’ and a ‘see ya later alligator.’ 

A scalding hot shower, a restless night of sleep, and too many cups of herbal tea the next morning did nothing to quell the noise in your head that blasted those moments over and over. You couldn’t stop picking apart whether he had thought about it for even a millisecond, and felt embarrassed that you could think of nothing else. 

It was simply an amplified version of what your whole friendship had been up until this point. You silently admiring him and wishing he would look at you the way you looked at him, and settling for friendship over heartbreak. 

Pushing it aside to the best of your ability allowed you to get through your week, but you had the lingering feeling that the next time you saw him would strike you with warm cheeks and a scrambled mental state.

Guilt had started to seep in at the corners of your mind, but you reminded yourself that you shouldn’t punish yourself for having romantic or sexual thoughts about someone you simply found attractive and compelling, it was your actions that would determine the validity of your guilt. 

“Long time no see, loser,” Robin hollered from the pool table across the bar, where she was likely kicking Steve’s ass. 

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” you shrug off your coat and plop down at their regular booth, knowing her jabs were entirely empty. You notice Eddie’s leather jacket hung up by the wall, and scan the bar to find him ordering a drink. 

There was a silent mutual understanding that you’d keep the fake dating thing to a bare minimum when out with your friends like this. Even though Steve was well aware, and therefore Robin was too, you figured tainting your social time with the performance of romance is the exact reason Eddie turned down the girl at the bar in the first place. 

“For the lady,” Eddie waltzes over and hands you a drink.

“Oh, thanks,” you take it with a confused smile, “you didn’t have to do that.”

“You bought me coffee last weekend,” he sat across the booth from you, “plus I’m trying to get better at buying drinks for pretty girls, right?”

You remind him that he doesn’t have to keep tabs on things like coffee, but you appreciate the gesture regardless. As per the past few times you’d been out with your friends, you expected him to put a pause on the flirting, but it seems to be bubbling over tonight. You weren’t complaining, but admittedly the arm around your shoulder or the noticeable way he checked you out when you got up to refill your drink took you by slight surprise. 

Sneaking in to claim the always occupied dart board for a challenge against Eddie while he uses the restroom, you keep your eyes on the corner of the bar to signal him over once he returns.

“You need a partner?” A man suddenly appears behind you, a little closer than you’d like but the bar was crowded, so you’ll let it slide. 

“Oh, I was just waiting for-“

“Let me fill in until your friend gets here, we can get you warmed up, yeah?” His tone wasn’t too pushy, but you didn’t love the look he gave you when making that comment.

Awkwardly staggering for a second, unsure weather to just agree or tell him to fuck off, “He really should be just a minute-“

“Or maybe less,” Eddie comes up right behind you and pulls you possessively into his side.

Your head whips up to see him with a devilish smile, his hand on your waist and the fire behind his eyes telling his guy to get lost.

“Oh, sorry man,” the guy starts backing away with an apologetic look.

“Yeah, better luck next time, pal,” Eddie snakes around to take the guy’s spot in front of the dart board.

He had his darts in hand and took his stance to start the match, gesturing for you to do the same. 

“What was that,” you ask with a slight joking tone, but seriously curious.

“What?” He doesn’t make eye contact and instead throws the first dart, “I’m not allowed to get fake jealous?”

“You’re allowed to feel any fake emotion you want, I guess,” your tone is somewhere in between a joke and a question. 

“You’d feel fake jealous if I was getting blown in the bathroom by some chick rather than playing darts with you, I bet.”

“Okay,” your tone shifts to defensive, “getting blown is very different than some guy asking to play darts with me.”

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” Eddie turns to face you, having thrown all his darts, “for real.”

A moment lapsed where you didn’t register that your mouth was hanging open in disbelief, the look in your eyes Eddie immediately clocked as lust and bottled up to store away for a later time. 

“I knew the scary dog thing would work,” his ‘i-told-you-so’ tone rubbed you the wrong way, but he wasn’t wrong, “you said girls weren’t into that, but you totally looooove that I defended your honor.”

“Don’t give yourself too much credit, I said girls wouldn’t be into it if you punched him,” you rolled your eyes.

“I don’t know, babe, I think you liked the whole ‘back off of my woman’ act.”

You mumble out a ‘whatever’ and let him have this win, which he was clearly reveling in, trying to focus instead at beating him at darts. 

“Just don’t pull shit like that on a first date, acting too possessive off the bat is a huge red flag for a lot of women.”

“I thought we weren’t doing dating advice tonight?” You don’t even have to look at him to know he’s got that stupid sarcastic smile.

“Yeah I thought so too,” you fail at your attempt to beat him in darts, as well as your attempt to not flirt back with him. 

He insists on collecting all the darts, picking up the ones haphazardly strews across the floor from failed attempts to hit the board. 

“I’m no pro or anything, but I think you’d hit the board a lot more if you fixed your stance.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you flip him the bird and take back your red tipped darts. 

As you steady your arm to aim your first shot he comes up behind you and grabs your hips, causing you to let out an unexpected squeak. He adjusts your stance, not aggressively, but with some force, twisting your hips and using his big combat boot to sweep your foot around so you stood more sideways. 

“You’re standing straight on,” he backs up, allowing you to secretly catch your breath, “and all your shots are veering to the right. If you plant your feet more angled you’ll hit the board.”

You wanted to roll your eyes at him, miss on purpose to show him he’s full of shit. You flippantly toss the dart, not trying particularly hard, and it hits. Not a bulls-eye or anything like that, but a lot closer than your previous attempts had been. 

“Good girl,” he comments, leaning in to breech your personal space just enough to make your blood boil.

You drop the remainder of the darts in your opposite hand onto the floor and whip around to face him, half jokingly smacking him on the shoulder. 

“Oh my god, fuck off!”

You’re met with his trademark shit-eating grin.

Truthfully, Eddie hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off you all night. He’d spent the night after your picnic date with his hand in bis boxers, squeezing his eyes shut and remembering the little gasp you had made when he grabbed your waist, the hum in your throat that bubbled up when he kissed you pinned against the blanket, that night and every night since. 

“Oh, you don’t like that?” that joking tone he uses to cover up what he actually wants to say. 

“Shut up, you know I do,” you didn’t even try to stifle your reaction, knowing it was his intent to get under your skin.

“How would I possibly know that,” he playfully looks up at the ceiling and around the bar, hands clasped behind his back now, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“You better cut that shit out, unless you plan on doing something about it,” you manage the most assertive tone your wobbly insides could muster, a little shocked at yourself for actually saying what you were thinking. 

“I’m not much of a planner,” he gracefully takes a stance next to you and rips all three darts, not great shots, but all hitting the board, “I’m more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of guy, you know that.”

“Well your pants better make up their mind if you’re playing boyfriend tonight or not,” your insinuation was heavy but you had fumbled your hand, and he had already seen all your cards at this point, so there was no reason to bluff.

“The real question is,” he leans in, his imposing figure crowding your space in a way that made your head spin, “do you want me to play boyfriend? Or do you want me to play guy who fucks your brains out in the bar bathroom?”

Your eyebrows pinched together for a millisecond, and before he could decipher your expression you grabbed his hand and started storming through the crowds hoarded by the bar. Why the hell a seedy downtown bar has a single stall family bathroom with a changing table is beyond you, but you drag him inside and slam the lock down behind you. 

“You’re not allowed to treat me any differently after this,” you start to fall into the sinkhole of oh my god what the hell is about to happen, but are cut off by him pressing you against the closed door the exact way he had handled you against his kitchen wall that night weeks ago. 

“Not unless you want me to,” he doesn’t hesitate to get his mouth on yours, immediately pulling your mind from wondering what the vague sticky substance on the door pressing into your back could be. 

“I mean, you’re not allowed to fuck me and then never talk to me again,” you say in between moving lips and tongues, giving him a moment to bury his face in your neck, "Promise me."

“Oh don’t worry about that,” he pulls back, “we can go get coffee tomorrow and you can give me a full performance review. Promise.”

Your annoyed eye roll quickly turns into them fluttering shut as he licks a stripe up to the junction behind your ear that has you melted into a boneless puddle between his pressing hips and the door. He drags his teeth across your lobe while leaning into you with a black denim clad thigh.

“Why don’t we make a deal,” you let out, voice breathy and unfocused. Before he can even pull back to reply you continue, “if you’re half as good at this as you claim to be, and can make me cum in this dingy bathroom, I’ll let you take me back to your trailer and you can do whatever the fuck you want to me.”

He was leaning in to seal the deal with a kiss before he could even process your request, because yes of course, a million times yes he’s taking this deal. Despite the rouse of you playing bar hookup for the night, and despite the idea of bringing you back to his place and finally doing what he’s wanted since the day he met you absolutely terrifying him, he nods and kisses you. 

It’s electrifying. His confidence only spurs you on to kiss him harder, grip his hair a little tighter, say the things you would only imagine in the deepest parts of your mind. The feeling of his grin against your lower lip and his fingers quickly unbuttoning your jeans fuels your fire. 

“You sure you know what you’re getting into,” he mumbles playfully, pulling you away from the wall with a gasp and leading you over to the tiny built in counter against a mirror by the sink. 

“Well I’m certainly not letting you fuck me against any of these sticky surfaces,” you note as you’re lifted onto the counter covered in mystery substance, “and I think you need to earn it.”

Of course it was no surprise to you that Eddie was good with his fingers. You probably could have told anyone that long before this impromptu bathroom hookup. Egging him on and challenging him in a way you were sure he wasn’t used to was well worth abandoning your assumptions. 

“Oh yeah? I think, if you’re lucky, I’ll earn it more times than you can count before the night’s over,” he positioned himself in between your legs, pressing your torso into the mirror behind you as he leaned in for another heated kiss. 

He pulled your ass to the edge of the counter, and looped his thumbs into the waistband of your unbuttoned pants. You were quick to assume that he’d yank the fabric right off your legs, preparing to lift your ass from the counter to assist.

Eddie paused, pulled back and gave you a look that asked ‘you’re sure about this?’ and when a dreamy smile spread across your cheeks he melted into you with a kiss that turned your stomach inside out and made your pussy flutter.

He snakes a hand from its grip on your torso down into your unbuttoned pants. You arched up into his touch, wanting to urge him to get on with it and get your pants and underwear out of the way, but appreciating how much he seemed to be reveling in feeling you for the first time. 

“So fuckin wet,” he mumbled against your lips, his fingers only feeling up your cunt from outside your underwear. He pressed the fabric into your slick center, following the path up to your clit and then teasingly back down to where your panties were soaked through.

“You weren’t lying when you said you liked this a little too much,” he’s rolling his hips ever so slightly against your spread thigh as he rubs your clothed pussy, his teeth sinking into your lower lip as he moves the material aside and sinks two fingers right into your wet cunt with ease.

You were sure that you’d retrospectively have a million quippy compacks that come to mind, but in this moment it was impossible to come up with words when his fingers were buried inside you, still, just letting you squeeze around them, and his hard cock straining against his jeans nestled against the inside of your thigh.

He slowly drags his finger’s up from your hole to your clit, and you let out a whine of desperation as he fully removes his hand from your damp underwear. 

Before you can manage the breath to tell him to please, for the love of god, get on with it, he brings his fingers up to his lips and gives them a long suck, never breaking eye contact with you. 

“Yeah,” he sighs out and presses his forehead against yours, “I might like that a little too much too.”

Protests and urging words catch in your throat as he yanks down your pants and underwear with one quick pull, not even needing you to lift your ass off the counter more than it already was. He was methodical and moved with intention, folding up your pants neatly and shoving your soaked panties into his back pocket, shooting you a wink. 

“Eddie, please,” your overdue complaints are finally bubbling over. You hardly finish your plea before his face is buried in your neck, and his fingers are sliding right back into your needy hole. 

The top of your head rests against the mirror behind you, exposing your neck and arching your back into his touch. He sucks and nips at the soft skin between your collar bone and ear, all while letting his two middle fingers pump slowly into you.

“Mmmm,” he mumbles into the crook of your jaw, “such a good girl for me, perfect pussy squeezing my fingers so tight, can’t fuckin wait to feel you soak my cock.”

Nearly orgasming at his words alone, your eyes flutter shut and you let out a moan of his name as he lets his thumb drag circles across your clit. “Eddie, please, just like that, I-”

“Oh, suddenly she’s not questioning my abilities?” he says with a biting smirk, “What was that about me not being half as good as I think I am?”

“Fuck,” you want to raise an eyebrow and shoot something back, hold out and make him work for it, but after hardly two minutes of his fingers rolling inside you, hooked up to drag along that perfect fucking spot, you had no choice but to feed his ego and let him win. 

“You wanted to make your little deal,” he pumps a little faster, making your head loll to the side and mouth hang half open, “I’ll sweeten it for you, babe. I say we can get this pretty pussy to come twice all over my fingers before anyone even knocks on this door.”

“Yes,” is all you can squeak out, “yes, please.”

If Eddie was being honest, he was a few half-thrusts into your thigh short of coming in his own pants from how hot you looked. Your eyes glassed over, pretty lips parted and gasping his name, perfect cunt sucking his fingers in. 

The hand not occupied by your gushing cunt slid up to cup the side of your cheek, forcing you to look into his fiery eyes. “Feel’s good?” he questions, knowing the answer and not expecting a verbal response.

He drags the pad of his thumb up to your parted lips, running it along your plush bottom lip and dragging it down a bit, relishing in how under his spell you were. His thumb slips into your mouth and you immediately wrap your lips around it and suck. 

“Good girl,” his thumb on your clit is rubbing more focused circles, “suck on that and keep your voice down, don’t want the whole bar knowing what a good little slut you are for me.”

Jackpot. 

A muffled moan around his thumb and the spasming of your inner walls signaled that you were hitting your peak. He drags the spit slicked digit from your lips and quickly replaces it with his lips and tongue, kissing you with fervor as he feels you ride out your orgasm on his hand. 

“Mmmmmmm” you moan, somewhere between a pleading whine and a sigh of satisfaction into his lips as his fingers don’t let up. 

Under different circumstances you would tell him to slow down, give you a minute to catch your breath. Eddie was stubborn, this you knew, and he had already made it abundantly clear that one orgasm wasn’t going to be enough. 

He pulls back from your lips, loving the sharp intake of breath you swallow as your cheeks continue to flush and eyelids keep fluttering. 

“So fucking good, came all over my fingers,” his gaze locks in on where his hand was buried into your cunt. “Gonna give me one more?”

Of course you would, whether it was up to you or not. He did slow up for a second, just enough for you to regain your grip on reality before he started curling them up again. 

“Eddie,” you whine out, eyes nearly crossed and unable to focus your attention on his face, hands, anything other than his boner poking into your inner thigh, “wanna feel you.”

The hand formerly gripped tight onto the edge of the counter snakes forward and pulls his hip into you, a permanent indentation of his stiff cock molding against your skin. 

“Not yet baby,” he rolls his hips forward, giving you a delicious feel of how it would be if he was inside you, but instead pushing his fingers a touch deeper and then pulling his hips away, “one more and then I’ll take you home. You’re gonna let me ruin that perfect little cunt, right? That was the deal?”

“Yes,” you gasp out, his other hand moving from your hair down to rub fast tight circles on your clit, the other hand still pumping steadily inside you.

“That’s right, I know this pussy is gonna take me so well. You’re already drooling for my cock, so fucking perfect.”

You feel it building up again, that sacred double orgasm that only ever came during your alone time in the shower or when you were so desperate for release that your hand didn’t stop after the first, but never with another person, never like this. 

His smile nearly touched his ears at this point, pulling back to take in all of you as your eyes screwed shut and thighs threatened to break his wrist at how fast they snapped together. 

Hitting you like a punch to the gut, your abdomen tightened and released rapidly, air sucked from your lungs and his hand working you through it between your clenched thighs. 

Yeah, maybe this was a bad idea. 

If you were in a cartoon, stars and chirping birds would be swirling around your head as you slowly came back to reality. He gave you some space, and begrudgingly gave you pack your panties after you hand out your hand and gave him a stern look.

“I’m gonna go tell the others that you aren’t feeling great and I’m taking you home,” he makes sure you’ve pulled your pants back up before unlocking the door, “Take your time, and I’ll meet you at the van, okay? I’ll grab your stuff.”

“Yeah,” you still feel a little flustered, looking back into the mirror and smoothing down your hair, “thanks.”

He shoots you a wink before slipping out, giving you a moment to collect yourself and splash some cold water on your face. Okay, so you’re doing this. 

Any nagging feelings that this might ruin things or that he’s only teasing you because of your arrangement are quickly squished down into a deeper compartment of your brain, overtaken by the post orgasm bliss and wandering thoughts of what might happen next. 

You peek your head out of the bathroom door, and slink your way to the back door without passing your group table or a stray Steve or Robin. The fresh air equalizes your buzzing thoughts, and you spot Eddie, already in the driver’s seat of his van. 

“You good?” He asks as you hop into the passenger seat. You won’t let him have the upper hand, just because he made you come twice in under ten minutes. 

“Yeah,” you gather as much assertion as your voice will project, “You good?”

“F’course,” he starts backing up, you internally roll your eyes at the way his outstretched arm muscles and curved neck make your stomach flutter, “Just wanted to make sure I passed the test.”

You sit in silence, not wanting to give into the cocky game he clearly wants to play, yet know that he’s entirely correct in his assumption that he’s driven you completely crazy. Once he’s on the main stretch of road, finally rolling to a stop at a red light you let your hand migrate across the center console, dancing its way into his lap. 

As you hoped, his cock was still half hard and apparent underneath his jeans. You let your hand draw circles next to it, loving the little twitch you get when you run your nails against his thigh. 

“Easy there, tiger,” he lets out a huffed laugh, with just an edge to his tone that suggested you were getting yourself into something you’d soon regret. 

“C’mon Eds,” you let your head fall on the corner of the headrest, gaze angled over at his tight grip on the steering wheel while your hand dancing around the bulge in his pants, “you’ve been pushing this thing against my thigh for the past twenty minutes, forgive me for wanting a better feel.”

You put on a pretend pouty face and flash him your best puppy dog eyes to ward off any incoming snippy comments from him. He rolls his pretty eyes at you and silently bites the inside of his cheek as you feel up and down his lap, grazing his growing cock with each pass. 

“Forgiven,” through gritted teeth, he squeezes his eyes shut as your fingers circle around his head, now taking visible form beneath his black jeans. He internally reprimands himself for losing focus on the road, and zeroes his concentration on getting back to his trailer as fast as this van can take him. 

You have your fun watching him wiggle in his seat, feeling his thigh muscles clench under your palm every so often. You weren’t full on jerking him off over his pants, but you were certainly relishing in the feeling of his dick getting harder and harder with each occasional pass of your hand.

He parks diagonally across the lawn in front of his trailer, not giving a shit where the van ends up as long as it’s stopped. He wanted to dash around the vehicle and scoop you out of your seat, throw you over his shoulder and take you inside to continue with whatever this evening had in store for you.

The second his hand stalled on the clutch, shifting the van into park and taking a moment to let his mind wander to what would happen once he got you inside, you were already halfway out the van and skipping up the steps to his front door. 

Entering his trailer, you start taking off your coat and shoes, trying to act as normal as possible. Your facade of keeping it cool entirely shatters when he enters behind you, calmly clicking the door shut and patiently waiting for you to finish unlacing your boots.

You remain crouched down, darting your eyes up at him, deciding against being a brat and undoing your laces as slowly as possible to keep him waiting. Any caution you had was long swept away by the wind, and he’d taken control in your little bathroom tryst, so it was your turn to say fuck it and just do what felt right. 

And in this moment, there was only a few quick movements and about six inches of space between you and Eddie’s semi-hard dick. One shoe was only half off, haphazardly kicked behind you as you pivoted onto your knees and had your hands moving eagerly up his tensing thighs.

“Can I?” Your question was half formed and he was already nodding. 

You’d teased him enough on the ride over, you wanted him, now. Pants quickly unbuttoned and blue checkered boxers pushed down to his knees, and you were about to go feral and just go for it when a silver glimmer adorning his thick cock caught your eye.

Your mouth was already half open, but your jaw nearly unhinged and hit the floor when the pierced head of his dick falls out of his boxers and lands at your eye level. 

Unmoving, mouth agape, you look up to make eye contact, ripping your eyes away from the shock of two silver balls on his cockhead. He knew it was nice, he wouldn’t have bedazzled it if it wasn’t, but the look you were giving him sucked all the unwavering confidence from his body for a split second, suddenly feeling weak in the knees at the sight of you slowly sicking your tongue out, not making any contact but waiting. 

He took the base of his dick in his hand and gave it a few precautionary strokes before angling it down and slapping your wet tongue with the tip a few times. 

You were two and a half seconds away from being entirely fucked out. If he pulled away and asked you to crawl on all fours to him, you’d do it without a second thought.

You let him slide his cock gently against your outstretched tongue a few times before coming to your senses and wrapping your lips around him, moving your hand to replace his and move against the length that your mouth couldn’t yet reach. 

All it took was a few steady bobs of your head, hand twisting and eyes still focused upwards on his face, to have him biting his knuckle and looking up at the ceiling to ground himself to try and not bust on the spot. You love this, of course, seeing him visibly spiral paired with the salty taste of precum already leaking from him. 

The hand not jerking him off comes up to the back of his hip, gently pushing against him in tandem with the movements of your head, encouraging him to shallowly thrust into your mouth.

“Jesus fu-“ he grunts out, not wanting to overestimate your encouragement, but unable to keep his hips from rolling forward slightly with the push of your hands and the bob of your lips. 

After an unexpected snap of his hips that sent his cock sliding into the back of your throat, making you gag slightly, a pang of guilt struck through him for pushing too hard. That was, until you let your head pull back a touch to catch your breath, but a long string of spit connected your lips to his cock, and a wild smile broke across your face that nearly sent him to the moon. 

You dove back in and pushed his cock all the way into the back of your throat, going so far that your nose pressed into the patch of dark curls that sat above his perfect dick. Focusing your breathing through your nose, you make a point to constrict your throat a few times until you feel him twitch inside you.

Pulling off with a gasp for air, you notice his eyebrows pinched together and gaze locked on you. 

“I like how these feel,” you comment, letting your pointed tongue dance around the metal balls on his tip.

He shudders and you clench your thighs at the sight of his stomach muscles tensing up when your tongue makes contact with the underside of his head, right where it meets the shaft. 

“If I let you fuck my mouth until you come, are you still going to be able to give it to me in a bit, or are you a one and done kind of guy?” You ask with a playfully teasing tone, but genuinely want to know if you suck him off to completion if the night will be over or not. 

“Fuck,” he spits out, more blood rushing to his cock at the idea of coming down your throat, “I’d fuck you all night if you’d let me babe.”

Half a second doesn’t pass before his cock is back in your mouth, hips shakily moving forward with your movements, gaining confidence as you flicker your eyes up at him through your lashes, the glimmer in them telling him he can take what he wants. 

“Fuckin’ look at you,” he comments to himself, “takin’ it all.” 

“Mhmmm,” you hum around him letting your tongue roll around his tip each time before he pushes his cock back down your throat. 

“You think you can get away with teasing me like that? That shit you pulled in the van back there, you think it’s cute to try and get me all riled up?”

You nod, tongue out and saliva coating your lips and chin. You could tell he was close by the way his words came out staggered, and his hips started snapping towards you in a new tempo, like his body was chasing it. 

Grunts and moans pulled from his chest fill the space mixed with the hums of satisfaction you let out while you take him deeper and faster. Moving in for the kill, you carefully slip your hand up in between his legs, cupping his balls, trying your best not to startle him. 

“Oh fuck,” it was a pitch of his voice you’d never heard before, a new tone especially reserved for the moments before orgasm, “you’re gonna make me fuckin come, y/n, y/n, I’m…”

The feeling of his balls constricting in your hands cues the warm wash of come sputtering down into your throat.

Getting the feeling he’d appreciate a bit of a show, you continue to jerk him off and pull off his cock slightly, letting the tip balance onto the tip of your tongue and the rest of his load spills out into your open mouth, some landing around the corners and onto your lips. 

“Christ, y/n,” his chest is heaving, his eyes finally pulling from you to squeeze shut for a moment. 

Once you’re sure he’s looking at you again you swallow down the salty white substance and lick the excess off your lips. You take his head back into your mouth, sucking just enough to clean off the tip and lap up any stray drops. He’s sensitive, you can tell, so you stop torturing him and place a final kiss right in between the two metal balls. 

You thought of asking him if the piercing hurt, or maybe make a comment about the two matching tattoos on his hipbones, ink of his you’d never seen until now. Before your brain can jump from swallowing his come to making post-nut chit chat, he’s yanking you up off your feet and wrapping you in a searingly passionate kiss. 

In your past experience most guys wanted you to drink some water or brush your teeth after they came in your mouth, at least before kissing you. Not Eddie. The way his tongue immediately slipped into your mouth, you almost believed he was trying to get a taste for himself. 

“C’mon,” he whispers in between slotting his lips with your, “Bedroom. Now.” 

He takes your hips in his hands and spins you around, causing a surprised yelp to bubble up from you, making him chuckle behind you as he walks you down the hall, keeping his hands on your sides. 

You knew where you were going, there were only so many doors in his tiny trailer, and you’d been here plenty of times before, but you liked the feeling of his hands pushing you forward, guiding your movements and steering you down the hallway into his room. 

Before your knees can hit the bed he spins you back around and captures your lips in another heated kiss. His hands trail up your sides, letting his fingertips slide beneath the hem of your shirt and push it upwards until your ribs were exposed. He pulls away from your face, leaving you leaning back into him, not wanting the kiss to end. 

“Up,” he pinches the sides of your shirt in his hands, and signals with his chin that he wants you to lift your arms, which you comply. 

It slides up and off of you, his hands quickly darting back to unclasp your bra, seemingly without even trying. This makes you roll your eyes, but the realization that you’re bare before him eclipses the thought of making a snippy remark about what a man whore he is. 

Flat palms caress your sides and move up to cup your breasts, his tongue pressing into the side of your neck. 

“These too,” his thumbs dip into your pants, managing to wiggle under the waistband of your panties as well. You’re going to do it yourself, but he gently pushes you back onto the bed, letting you flip back into the unmade blankets. 

“I wanna see you,” he pops your pants button and waits for a nod before sliding your pants and underwear down your legs. 

In between the blowjob and now, he’d tucked himself back into his pants, pulling his boxers and jeans back up, still unbuttoned, but covering him back up as his cock returned to a half hard state, unlikely to stay that way for very long considering how things were going. 

The scene of you now sprawled out onto his bed, naked and needy for him, and him standing above you, basically fully clothed, had a flood of lust traveling south between your thighs.

“So fuckin’ gorgeous,” you burned under his intense gaze, raking down your body and soaking in the image of your skin laid out against his flannel plaid sheets. 

He crawls over you, letting his body melt into yours, the center seam of his jeans pressing against your soaking core, just as it had when he had you pressed up against the door of the bar bathroom.

Rocking gently against you, you feel his cock already starting to harden again. His tongue moves against your neck, hands roaming freely against your skin, arching into his touch. 

His breath was heavy against your lips, he was already starting to lose himself, and he knew he wanted to make you come with his tongue at least once before his dick came back out, but it was already pulsing between his legs, growing rock solid with every little whimper that came past your lips. 

Your fingers intertwined themselves into the tresses of his long, messy hair. You use your new grip to pull his face as close into yours as your bodies will allow, smushing his nose up against your cheek and foreheads plastered together. The weight of his body on yours, and the lovely rocking motion of his hips against yours stopped as he pulled away and hooked his arms under your knees. 

He slides off the side of the bed, feet returning to the carpeted ground and yanking your body to the edge of the mattress. You let out an unexpected giggle, body limp like a rag doll, moving wherever he wanted you. 

He leans back over to give you another deep kiss, teeth dragging against your lower lip and tongue sliding gracefully against yours, before he slides his mouth down, stopping to lap up at your nipples for a moment, not letting any part of your skin go untouched as he takes his time moving down to where you want him most. 

Wiggling around on his mattress, your body is begging him to get on with it, but he loves to make you squirm. He takes his time licking up your hip bones, kissing from the innermost part of your thigh all the way down to your knee, and then back up the other side. He even takes a long moment to suck a dark purple bruise into the meat of your thigh, biting down on the flesh and licking over the skin to soothe it, noticing how your back arched a little when he bit down harder. 

“Please Eddie,” your voice is hardly above a whisper, whimpering and whiny.

“All you had to do was ask nicely,” he has that too-cocky tone again, but it’s long forgotten once his tongue is buried in between your thighs, lapping up the excess of wetness already pooled there.

“Ohhh,” you let out a moan, sucking in a sharp breath and allowing your body to relax under his focused touch. 

His hands push up from your ass to the crooks of your knees, moving your legs back to either side of you, strong palms finding their resting place on the backs of your thighs, keeping your legs spread wide open for him while he buries his face deep in your cunt. 

“You-“ the start of a compliment, or maybe a request, escapes your lips but the sudden harsh suck of your clit into his mouth has you speechless and moaning, “Mhmmmmm, uhhhhhhh.”

The sloppy wet sounds of him making out with your pussy are enough to drive you wild, your hands originally balling his sheets in your fists quickly move to the top of his head, resting atop his mop of messy curls. 

“Y’can give it a tug,” the first half of his statement spoken directly into your pussy, “I don’t mind a little pain.” He shoots you a wink and keeps his eyes locked on you as he lets his tongue lap a fat long lick up your slit, and then leaning back down to encourage you to tangle your hands into his hair. 

Coming to either side of his head you grab two points of purchase, locking your fingers in at the roots and feeling him hum into your cunt when you grabbed it a little tighter. 

Your hips start to quiver, so he brings one hand from your thigh up to your lower stomach, pinning you against the bed, and still keeping you spread open with the other. 

Working a steady rhythm against your slick center with his lips and tongue, he can tell he’s found the spot you like most by your open mouth and tight eyebrows.

“Ohmygod,” your chest starts moving with heavy breaths, you can’t bear to keep yourself up any longer and flop back down flat onto the mattress, eyes screwing shut in pleasure. He lets go of his anchor on your tummy and returns his hands to your thighs, allowing your hips to wiggle and wriggle against his face to chase after your own pleasure. 

“Pleasepleaseplease,” one glimpse of his big brown eyes looking up at you and his nose pressing deliciously into the spot above your clit has your head reeling, “please don’t stop, fuck.”

Rather than reply, he just continues to devour you at that steady pace, your thighs almost snapping shut around his head . 

“Uh huh, right there, oh fuck Eddie I’m gonna-“ 

A strangled moan rips from your throat and your back arches off the mattress, his hands quickly come to wrap around your thighs and keep your center held closely against his face. He’s pulling your hips flush with his face, despite your spasming torso and gushing core. 

As your orgasm peaks, your hips angle themselves to push up deeper into his face, and he uses his leverage against the backs of your thighs to lift your ass, the entire lower half of your body now off the mattress and sliding backwards as he keeps his moving tongue glued to your clit. 

He climbs up onto the mattress as you slide back, the grip he had on your legs was sure to leave a sore memory of him unwilling to let your coming pussy away from his face. 

When he finally pulls away, your hand pushing at his forehead to prevent overstimulation, both of you gasping for air, his knees are propped under your thighs, and your hips are propped up right at perfect level with the bulge in his pants. 

“Fuck me,” you say through catching your breath, not as an expletive but rather a demand, “Eddie, I need you to fuck me,” your voice was whiny and desperate. 

“This okay?” he starts pulling his dick from its constraints in his unbuttoned jeans, not even shoving them halfway down his thighs before he had that pretty pierced dip dragging through your open and ready folds. 

“Yes, inside, please,” you were chasing after his length, while he tossed his shirt off. He teasingly ran it up and down your slit before sinking into you, collapsing down to press your lips into a kiss to swallow your moans as he slid the whole thing in slowly, making sure to take his time and fuck you right. 

He grabbed the back of your neck and pressed his forehead to yours, finally sheathed all the way inside you and stilling for a moment to relish in the feeling. Pulling back so he can watch your face as he pumps his first few thrusts, he knows he’s beyond fucked. 

“So fucking good,” you slur out, eyes almost crossing from how deep his cock was hitting your insides.

“Yeah? This pussy’s god damn perfect, fucking made for me,” he articulates each thought with a snap of his hips, “suckin’ me right in.” 

“Wait, can we,” your voice had a little more weight behind it unlike the airy moans he’d grown obsessed with in the past forty minutes.

He pulls back, and rather than finish your thought you slip him out of you and roll over, shuffling up the bed and positioning yourself face down ass up, knees spread and back arched. 

“You think you can handle it?” he asks jokingly, swatting your ass playfully and then landing a second, harder smack on the flesh when he notices you pussy clench around nothing at the sensation of him spanking you. 

“Want you to fuck me hard,” you mumble into his pillow, wiggling your hips a little bit to jiggle the fat of your ass, “I know your cock is gonna feel so fucking good in me this way, wanna feel that fucking piercing back in my throat from the other direction.”

“Jesus Christ, y/n,” he was genuinely a little shocked at your words, slowly learning that your freak side might match his. 

You expected to feel his cock slam into you once his hands came to spread your ass apart, but instead the mattress dipped and he was licking another fat stripe from your clit all the way up past your second hole, running this back a few times until you were moaning into the pillow and thighs were tensed up from the attention he was giving you.

“Sorry babe, just needed another taste,” he pushed the head of his dick into you, and moved the first few inches agonizingly slow into your soaked hole. 

“Eddie please, need it, need you,” he loved that his sheets were balled up in your fists, using the tension of the material to bounce yourself back onto him. You only manage to slide back down about three quarters before he’s tightly gripping your hip and pulling out half way again. 

“Tsk tsk tsk, you need to learn to be patient, pretty girl,” he’d thrust it an inch of so, and then slowly pull back, making you whine and start to feel tears bubble up in the corners of your eyes. 

“Want it so bad,” your cheek laid flat against his pillow, and you could catch a glimpse of him behind you out of the corner of your eye if you craned your neck a bit. You sounded so desperate, but you knew he liked it, liked hearing how badly you craved him. 

He starts moving in and out of you, firm grip on your ass never wavering. Restrained grunts left his mouth as he fucked into you, causing your eyes to practically roll into the back of your head. He leans down to place a soft kiss on your shoulder blade, despite how viciously he's pounding into you. His head cranes down to your shoulder, his hand coming up to brush your hair out of your face. 

As his long fingers move your hair away from your eyes, you push your head back into his hand, not wanting to lose contact. He tentatively runs his hands up into your hair, taking a soft grip on your roots.

“Is this what you want?” he whispers, “you like it rough?”

“Yes,” you manage to squeak out, “fuck, pull my hair, spank me, do whatever the fuck you want to me, please.”

His vision practically goes black with this new unrestricted passion, allowing himself to thrust into you as hard and as deep as his hips would propel him, twisting your hair in his grip and pulling you up from your laid position, quickly letting your hands jump to his headboard to support you as your head was pulled back. 

You tried to bounce back onto his cock, wanting to feel him as deeply and wholly as your bodies would allow, but you could hardly keep up with the pace he had set. 

Your ass bouncing against him and the occasional glance he caught at your fucked out expression spurred him on to fuck you even harder. He had your hair pulled back so tight that your back was pressing flush up with his chest every so often, and he took the opportunity to snake an arm around you and hold your chest up flat, his other hand moving down to rub frantic circles on your clit.

“You’re gonna make me come like this,” you manage to croak out, voice hoarse from the harsh bend in your neck. 

“Nuh uhh, no,” his voice was gruff and commanding, right into your ear and sent a shiver down your spine. 

He pulled out of you fully, and had you flipped around flat on your back again before you could even open your mouth to complain. 

“Need to see that pretty face when you come on my cock,” he lines himself up with you again, pushing into you and making a mental note of how the bulge of his cock looked pressing up from the inner part of your lower stomach. 

And of course, your face screwed up in pleasure, puffy lips and sweaty brow, slack jawed and panting his name would be something Eddie wouldn’t be able to forget even if he tried.

His thumb found its way to your clit to pick up where he had last left you, steadily building to an earth shattering orgasm. Talking you through it, knowing you were close by the vice grip your walls had on his dick, in between grunts he spilled out some “good girl”’s and “right fuckin there, that’s it.” 

When he felt your thighs tense up, and the muscles in your neck strain against the soft skin he’d previously had his lips all over, he knew you were nearing the finish line. 

“So fucking perfect, feel so good wrapped around me,” he managed to sweet talk you without altering the pace of his hips, “That’s it, come on my cock, give it to me.”

With that, your body can’t help but throw itself over the edge of pleasure. A deep grunt rattles in your chest, and you lose all sensation other than the wild pulsing in between your legs. You can’t be bothered to worry about what your face looks like, or if your thighs are squeezing him too hard, you only feel the riptide of an orgasm shattering through you. 

The animalistic noise that Eddie grunts out, his wild gaze locked on your face only makes your body shake with pleasure even harder. He had that instinct that most men lacked, to keep the exact pace and motion when your orgasm hit rather than speed up or slow down, it was a gift, a talent. 

Of course he wasn’t going to change a thing about what he was doing, look at you. You were so fucking perfect, shaking and coming all over him, those sweet noises and the beautiful squelching between your thighs. He’d rather die than change a single thing about this moment. 

He stilled only when you paused to catch your breath, and within seconds was flipped over by the power of your thighs onto his back.

Unexpectedly, you began to ride him, trying to match the pace he had earlier set. The aftershocks of your orgasm still washed through you, but you seized the moment to get him right where you wanted him. This angle was different, deeper and more connected. You roll your hips and bring your hands up to his hair, foreheads pressing together once again. 

“You’re making me feel so fucking good,” you manage to breathe out into his lips, he quickly comes to the realization of what’s happened and shifts the angle of his hips to hit you even deeper. 

“I’d give you everything, if you’d let me,” he doesn’t let a single thought pass in his mind before the words slip out, “always.”

Your lips capture his in a kiss that has far more emotion behind it than two friends play-dating and fucking for fun. His hands come up to grasp your cheeks, your hips continue to roll down into his with purpose. 

“I’m- Where-“ his words are hardly intelligible in between breathless kisses, but you know what he means. 

“Inside, please, need all of you inside me,” you try to keep your voice steady so he hears you loud and clear, wanting to give him the exact attention he had paid to you, “Please Eddie, come inside me.”

His hands travel down and guide your hips to fuck down onto him one, two, three times before he’s groaning in your ear and letting out the prettiest and most vulnerable sounds you’ve ever heard form him. 

The swell of his cock inside you makes you drape your head into his neck, focusing on riding out his orgasm and making sure he was twitching in the aftershocks of his orgasm before you let up. 

When you felt his grip on your hips tighten, signaling that he’d had too much, you sink all the way down one final time and let your body lay limp on his, pulsing cock still filling you up. 

His chest rose and fell harshly with his recovering breaths. You could feel his heartbeat pulsing up through the spot on his neck where your ear laid on his sweaty skin.

Silently awaiting the inevitable tap on the shoulder, the slow pull out and post-sex cleanup process, you try to savor every passing moment. But it doesn’t come. Eddie wraps his arms around your midsection and holds your limp body close to his, letting his cock start to soften inside you. 

You nearly fall asleep like that, all wrapped up in him, until you recognize that you should pee and clean up to avoid a UTI. You slip off of him, and hear a disappointed groan from him. He makes cute grabby hands at you as you cross the room, making you roll your eyes, but something deep inside you flip flops with how sweet he’s being, so caring, so unlike the picture of himself that he had painted for you. 

You give him a wet hand towel to clean up the remnants of your activities, and slip back into bed with him per his insistence. You doze off for a while, until the rising sun peeking through his blinds catches your eye, striking you with the sudden decision to stay and face the music or leave and let it settle. 

You’d already regretted it, but weren’t ready to have the “hey, so I know we had fake boyfriend-girlfriend sex, but I actually really like you so what should we do about that?” conversion with him, so instead you take the cowardly path and tiptoe out of his room in the early morning hours, leaving behind your underwear on his nightside table with a scribbled note saying to call you. Hopefully that was enough of a signal. 

Apparently not,

Days pass, and no call. 

It was all starting to get to your head. While you had gone through the stages of being nervous that you had done something wrong, that he was avoiding you to spare you the rejection, thinking he regretted what had happened and didn’t want to face you, who was so obviously into him it was painful, you’d just now turned a new leaf. Fuck that. If he was too much of a coward to call you, you'd hope he'd at least give you the decency as a friend to tell you the truth, you deserved to be angry, and you deserved a response. 

After stewing in your feelings for longer than felt healthy, you just get in your car and start driving to his trailer. If this all blew up in your face at least you wouldn’t have to keep biting your nails and waiting for the phone to ring. 

Three deep breaths, and a quick moment to gather your thoughts, and suddenly your body acted on instinct, putting the car in park and walking up to pound three concise knocks on his trailer door. 

“Just a second,” he hollered from inside, giving you a few seconds to be stricken with regret for showing up unannounced without a plan on what exactly to say. 

“What do you- oh, y/n,” he was in a pair of plaid pajama pants that hung low on his hips, shirtless and hair still damp from a recent shower, “uh, hey?”

“Oh, hey,” your tone was laced with annoyance, “I left something here last week and I’m here to get it back. If you don’t mind.”

“What- oh,” he’s a second too slow to realize you mean the underwear you had purposefully left behind with that note. The note telling him to call you. Which he never did. 

You were left standing on his porch steps, arms crossed and shooting daggers out of your eyes while he stood there in the doorway, an apparent guilty expression plastered on his face while he rocked back on his heels to buy some time to figure out what to say. 

“You don’t have to invite me inside, if you can just grab them and give them to me, and I’ll be out of your hair,” you say flatly, recognizing if he does as asked then this might be the last time you speak to Eddie Munson. 

“No, no, uh, you should come in,” he steps aside to let you in, “we probably shouldn’t have this conversation on my front steps.”

Avoiding eye contact, feeling an overwhelming mix of anger, confusion, and betrayal, you step inside and don’t make any effort to move into the space. You just stand by the door and give him an expectant look. Either he could go get the underwear, or he could grow a pair and say something to you. 

“I, uh-“ he looked so defeated you started to feel bad for using such a pointed tone, but then you remembered the days and days that passed without hearing from him, “I’m sorry, that I, y’know…”

“Yeah, well I don’t really care if you’re not looking for any post sex recap conversations, because you’re obviously pretty sure of yourself in that department,” the words flew out before your mind could even conjure them up, “but you fucking promised me that you wouldn’t do this, so can I please just have my underwear back and I won’t bother you again.”

He runs a hand through his hair letting out a deep exhale and searching the ceiling for words, “I know, I-“

You cut him off, your thoughts were ripping through you now and you were going to say your piece whether he asked for it or not, “You said you wouldn’t pull this shit with me, but I guess our friendship isn’t substantial enough for you to see me any differently than you do every other girl you throw away after you’ve gotten what you want. You clearly don’t want any more advice and you clearly don’t want to be my friend, so please, just give me my shit so I can go.”

“That’s the fucking thing y/n, of course I don’t want to be your friend,” his gaze still fixed on the ceiling.

At this point you were seconds away from just storming out, letting him keep your underwear as some twisted little trophy for breaking your heart. 

“Yeah, crystal clear Eddie.”

“Being your friend is already hard enough, and I knew this shit was a bad idea, the whole trial-girlfriend thing. But how the fuck was I supposed to say no to that? The girl of my dreams offers to do all this no-strings-attached romantic shit, I’d be the dumbest man alive to turn that down.”

You just give him a blank stare, your scalding anger twisting into a more confused frenzy of bees swarming in the pit of your stomach. Eyebrows pinched together, you just stare at him until he finally makes eye contact with you. 

“And yeah,” he goes on, letting all his words out like a big exhale in the same cadence that you had just hurled all your angry words at his, but his tone was filled with guilt as opposed to rage, “maybe we let it go a little too far, but I would never say no to you, I couldn’t. I’m sorry I didn’t know what the fuck to say to you after, but that’s exactly the reason I’m not good enough for you. The more we kept that fake dating shit up the worse it was gonna get, so I’m sorry, but I can’t keep spending time with you like that, because it’s starting to fucking hurt.”

“Hurt,” you say with a dry laugh, which almost scares him, “YOU’RE hurt? Give me a fucking break Eddie. I know you don’t see me that way. So what, you’re too scared to hurt my feelings? You’re doing a wonderful job, keep it up.”

“What the fuck do you mean, not see you like what?”

“Don’t pretend to be dumb Eddie. When we first met I tried so hard to get your attention, asking you to hang out, and you always blew me off. It’s fine that you don’t want to date me or whatever, but at least just tell me that, don’t fuck me like I’m special or something and then toss me aside. I deserve better than that.”

“Yeah, y/n, you do,” his voice was no longer guilt stricken, and was on the same straightforward plane as your last responses, “you deserve so much fucking better than me, that’s why I could never let anything between us happen. I don’t call girls back. I’m rude. I don’t take care of myself, let alone others. I like to smoke, and drink, and get head from girls in bar bathrooms and never learn their names, and that’s not the kind of person that a girl like you dates. I’m a fun quick fuck. You’re the kind of girl that after three dates he’ll already have a ring picked out. You’re everything, and I’m nothing, so forgive me for sparing you of that.”

Your bones are frozen and the beat of silence gives him the opportunity to spin on his heel and start down the hallway, presumably to get your panties. 

Snapping back into it, you let out a louder than expected, “Hey,” and you start following him, not taking long to catch up to him in his bedroom. 

“You,” you point a finger at him, and start to feel the rage bubble up again, “don’t get to decide that you’re unloveable. And you don’t get to tell me what kind of girl I am. Have you ever considered that maybe the reason you’re so lonely and miserable is because you choose to be? You don’t get to decide what I deserve, I do. And I really fucking like you Eddie, so forgive me for acting like it.” 

You snatch your underwear off his bedside table, and give him a look, not fueled by anger or resentment, but empathy. 

“I’m going to leave. And if you don’t want to see me again, that’s fine, but if you do, you can call me. Goodbye Eddie.”

You feel out of your own body, floating above it all and rewinding the conversation over and over, body on autopilot taking you home while your soul stayed behind and relived his words over and over, unsure if you feel better or worse than when you showed up. 

Days pass by again, and you take his silence as more of a response than anything he had said to you during that conversation. You try not to wallow, but you feel scattered and distraught, at both the prospect of losing Eddie and having to deal with your shared friends, would they allow you to dance around each other, or would they flat out choose him and shut you out? Would group nights out bowling suddenly just turn into the occasional one-on-one coffee with Robin? 

Until suddenly, on a random Tuesday afternoon when you've gotten home from work and are relaxing on the couch in your pajamas, three knocks are at your door.

At this point you figured it was over. He hadn't called and he'd made no effort to continue the dialogue. So a thought of Eddie doesn't even cross your mind in between the couch and opening the door.

And there he is.

In a suit, slightly descheveld in Eddie fashion, and holding a slightly wilting bouquet of flowers. Posture straight and brave face, but expecting your brutal edge upon answering the door nonetheless.

"Hey?" you're somewhat at a loss for words answering.

"Hi," he seems like he's running lines of a play in his mind, "I was hoping we could talk."

You reluctantly let him in, and he hands the flowers to you, as if it was a normal occurrence for him to bring you such a gift.

"First off," he starts, hardly breaching your living room entrance before starting his apology, "I regret the way we last left things, and I'm sorry for leaving you waiting for a response."

He flicks those big brown eyes at you and you can't help but give him the benefit of the doubt, he always was so sincere with his words.

"You're amazing. And although I'll remain adamant that I don't deserve someone like you in my life, I've been thinking a lot about what you said, and I'm sorry that tried to tell you how to feel."

You remain stoic at your seat on the couch, watching him shift his weight and bare his soul to you.

"You're perfect. Nice, funny, sexy, brave, all of it. And if you're willing to give me a chance, I don't know why the fuck you would, but if you are, I want to put aside all my bullshit and try this out, if you'll have me."

He stood there for a moment, letting you take in his request, bouquet in hand and suit adorned.

"And I owe you a few dates, for real."

As hard as you want your exterior to be, a smile cracks through.

"Okay, but know I don't fuck until the third date, at best," you jab, breaking his nervous exterior and visibly relieving the tension from his shoulders.

"I'm somewhat of a refined gentleman myself, so that won't be an issue," he bows and extends a hand to you.

You pull him down by the hand onto the couch with you, wrapping him up in a deep kiss. He was worth it, and you both knew it was worth the shot to try.

[fleshtrogen]

i wish i had like...a lens.

or a mirror. or a tv. or a lucid dream. whatever would let me see something magically or whatever.

and through/on it. i could see the reactions of the people i care for if i were to die. self inflicted, freak accident, peacefully in my sleep, what have you. i die, and i get to see how people react. my parents. my fiance. my closest friends. i would want to see how they take it. how it would affect them moving forward.

if i could see what significance my death holds and just how meaningful it is to them, then maybe, just maybe, i could start feeling like my life is, too.

and maybe i wont let myself randomly get to this point anymore. sitting in the shower, head in my hands, fantasizing about the circumstances that would break my conviction of not wanting to hurt those i care about, which would then lead to...

i dont know why things are this bad. every single time i experience some kind of breaking point amd afterwards i say with determination that this is when ill finally strive to be better, this is when ill summon the strength to tackle my host of mental complexes and spiderwebs of illness head on. and every time i end up back here within no time flat. its like i cant help myself. and if i cant, then why should other people be spending their time helping me? its pointless youre throwing your words into a empty void. i want to be better for them but at the same time i just cant bring myself to assign myself literally any value in my eyes or the eyes of others. i cannot SEE myself holding any value because my entire being is permeated with seething self-loathing that has festered since i was a child. i am empty, i am nothing. there is nothing of value to be lost here. i am an aside, an afterthought, and i should just know my place and stop trying to form connections as if i were a real person. and on some level i know thats not true but i cant fucking FEEL IT. no matter how many times i try no matter how strong my convictions are. i keep failing those close to me again and again by promising to try and better myself, try and beat these complexes, and then ending up back here every single time. a part of me HOPES that they realize its pointless and realize im not worth the trouble at all, much less worth maintaining a friendship with. maybe its because itd confirm what ive thought of myself all along.

hell, im even getting on my own nerves with the constant backsliding. cant IMAGINE what itd be like for the people who actually have HOPE for me for whatever reason. who have seen me at my worst and received my promises to get myself to the best i can be. seeing me here once again. ha. haha. hahahahahahahahahahaha

if youve read this entire thing up to here despite my tags: why? why bother? you gained nothing from reading this aside from insight into the mind of a girl who isnt here. i would greatly appreciate it if you forgot about all of this and allowed my thoughts to just scatter into the wind like they ought to.

[sweetronancer]

not to vent on main but..... (tw? cw? idk)

i feel completely useless. theres nothing i can do! like i just sit around and i dont do shit all day and i feel burnt out and i dont even know what to do and my dads complaining about being the only one doing jack shit for our family and if he just let me get a job i could help out too and then he's all like "ah no its whatever" and then like he keeps complaining like okay wtv. and my moms like "im the only one who does shit around this house" LIKE YKW IF YOU TOLD ME THEN LIKE!!!! ID GET STUFF DONE TOO IF YOU JUST TOLD ME!!! my sister is just a bitch to me and then shes like "wait no i didnt mean it" after she tells me to kill myself and she makes fun of my mental stuff. and then i have my own issues, like i struggle to get out of bed and i struggle with hygiene stuff (mainly brushing my teeth because tbh i havent done that in like a few weeks but im okay about showering) and i just cant do anything for myself. i hate school but at the same time im literally nothing without it! i cant write for shit, like i try so hard to at least put 10 words down on a google doc and it doesnt make any sense and then i cry because i talk about so many different aus and stuff and i feel like im making empty promises and disappointing people because i said i was gonna write something but then i cant and i just freak out and i cant. im burnt out but what the hell do i know, im like 15 years old so im just a kid what the fuck do i know about being burnt out. i feel wrong for feeling this way. im a kid, i shouldn't have any problems but i do and i feel horrible about having so much mental baggage but i just cant do this anymore. i dont wanna live like this, i feel suffocated and trapped and i actually cannot live like this. but im gonna push through it anyway because ykw i am a literal child and ill get over it because thats how my family sees it so thats how im gonna see it.

anyway, i <3 wolverines

[user98347501938475]

what a fun weekend i am currently having. friday morning woke up to no cuddles and steve on his phone he couldnt even look up to say good morning. then i made the mistake of kicking his laundry basket out of my way in the hallway twice so that means i deserve to get some nasty text messages at 6am. great way to start my day having to apologize, again, with no apology to me for anything, for "already ruining his day" and his reply, "you ruin most of em."

this text thread caused me to go into another spiral of depression, suicidal ideation, that i called my mom later that night and ask her to take me to the hospital because i wanted to hurt myself or go get blackout drunk. 22 days sober today btw woohoo!

so after being given the silent treatment all day, i am sitting crying in the office and steve took himself out to sushi, arcade, and movie date. not a care in the world that i said i was feeling suicidal and wanted to kill myself. but my mistake i made the comment you win and all i get in response is doesnt feel like winning. jesus fucking christ your wife is telling you she wants to end her life you dont give a fuck. honestly that was it for me. i dont think any amount of counseling will save this shit show.

for context when steve threatened to take his life early on in our relationship, i was threatening to call the police i was freaking out banging on his door and took all the fucking shoelaces out of his shoes because he said he had just tried to hang himself in his closet. then i stayed with him to make sure he wasnt going to do anything. and this same man doesnt even ask or care where i will be when i tell him ill be gone for three days, a 72 hour hold possibly.

so my mom and the dr said i would be okay to go home and be under supervision for the night LMAO still gonna wanna die tomorrow but okay cool. literally unless you have active cuts or say im going to go home and kill myself they wont give you any help. and just a thought. people who want to die, me specifically, is embarassed that i am such a failure at life that youre going to make me admit to you that i dont want to be here out loud and then be told youre okay go home. i just dont understand how there is no mental help for anyone living in this shithole society.

my future will be divorced and living in a little shitty apartment by myself and never leave and never make any new friendships or relationships because i cannot make friends and date. i have way too much fucking trauma. i mean my husband doesnt care if i die and my only friend, a gay man, but man none the less, cant even drive home to be with me because hes at his moms house getting drunk,(( his mom who wouldnt move her fat ass to bail him out)) .has been using me as a gooddamn vent stress doll because he was going to be arrested and i told him he would be arrested he didnt listen to me or take any of my advice. this friend needs a whole post of his own. but anyway, guess who was taking care of his loud annoying untrained chiuaua until fucking midnight and driving to lake elsinore to get your truck and then go to the bail bonds place, all of which was extremely stressing and then he gets out keeps me up until 2 am to tell me all about how horrible it was, congratulations welcome to the club of being arrested, maybe just maybe you should have listened to your "friend" when she told you how horrible it would be. but youre a fucking moron and thought the cops woould be NICE to you wtaf.

i dont even have the energy or like xmas spirit to put up my tree. i sure as fuck dont want to celebrate the holiday with steve. he cant even understand that i wanted to visit his family just not during the holiday hysteria. so what does steve do? he buys us $2000 worth of plane tickets to leave DEC 23 and return the 27. UHM WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. i guess you heard me but just dont fucking care what i want ever. or his concern for my arthritus and nausea he doesnt fucking care. HIS family is more important than his wife, obviously how could i be so stupid. i will never be anyone prioirty i have to make myself the priority. and he was shady as fuck acting like i thought we were on the same page...... yeah maybe buit we're reading two spearate fucking books dude. idfk how you could think my wife said she doesnt want to travel during the holidays means leave 2 fucking days before christmas.

so now hes going by himself and leaving the day after christmas at noon and then returning NEW YEARS EVE at ELEVEN FUCKING THIRTY AT NIGHT. boy better get a uber home. dont even fucking ask me to drive to LAX or JWA or wherever the fuck you land because you havent even told me which airline you booked, he probably doesnt even know. the way he buys plane tickewts its just whats cheapest on the day i wanna go idgaf about how horrible the time or airline is. but yeah glad that our first new years as a couple, married as well, that we could have had a new years kiss. but you planned to land on new years eve. he just doesnt think or care about anything i care or think about. we are so fucking wrong for each other.

im so glad i can write here since i only get therapy once a week and steve said he doesnt want to hear me "trauma dumping" or if hes already heard the story he doesnt want to hear it again. thank goodness for the void of internet.

[fallenrain40]

I feel like compared to a lot of diabetics, I do have an okay relationship with food but I have SO many thoughts about this so I'm gonna talk about it !!! I've thought about the relationship with how I eat and my diabetes for so long now. I really wish it was talked about more. It's such a difficult thing to explain to people that yeah, being diabetic makes it so that eating for me is. weird. it can't just be simple. i can't just go get my food and eat it. if I don't eat at generally the same time every day I feel like I'm gonna die both mentally AND because it could actually make my blood sugar less predictable. And eating low carb things for snacks is stressful for so many reasons. 1, if I do that, I might feel less hungry later and then disrupt the routine I have by having a smaller meal and therefor making me worry that my bg is going to be less predictable. 2, sometimes it?? raises blood sugar anyways?? even though we're told that it doesn't do that. it just freaking does. want to have bacon??? and your blood sugar is normal rn??? well haha if you eat it its probably going to go a little bit higher unless it doesnt but if it doesnt thats probably cause its going low unless its just not doing anything. and then there's foods with higher carbs. yeah I can have them but then thats more carbs which means I have to adjust my dosage of insulin which you'd think could be simple but I ALSO need to take into account how hungry I am and if I'm going to eat less if I have that high-carb food, or if im going to eat more, if im going to eat more that means i'd take more insulin than usual with would then make me worry that its going to do something unexpected. if i eat less, then half or maybe even ALL of my meal will just be taken up by that one high-carb thing and i won't be able to have anything else until my next meal, which probably would make me feel BAD until I get to that next meal. and since its such a big THING to just have a meal. I'll only eat twice a day. I wouldnt miND eating 3 times a day but thats so much... having to figure out what my bg is going to do? and making it a lot less predictable. I eat in the morning and in the evening because those are both times my bg starts to rise. not becuase they are the times I WANT to eat. its because they are the times I NEED to. I almost NEVER wake up hungry. I hate eating in the morning. but i literally HAVE to or else my body is going to throw a fit and go "wtf u need sugar for energy!!! why arent u eating!!! *dumps 125423154265 pounds of sugar into your blood* also I feel like mentioning the fact a lot of people are like "omg sugar bad 1!11!!!!!!!1!!! !!1!" and im just sitting here like..... being diabetic has made me love skittles lmao its forced me to eat them probably way more often than i would if i WASNT diabetic (apple juice too btw) becuase thats literally!!! the only way to treat lows!!! and no lows arent always avoidable becuase GUESS WHAT !!! your body doesn't always react to insulin in the same way and sometimes it can be a lot more sensitive to it than normal!! so taking your normal dosage can still make you go low!! I feel like I had more to write but I already spent way too long on this and my adhd is telling me i have 0 focus left for it so. might add onto this later bhgvfgjbh edit: and not to mention the fact that apparently food labels dont have to be 100% accurate so when something says it has 20 carbs, it could something else! and if you eat several things like that! then you have no idea how much you actually had!! LOW TIME !! (or high time) edit 2: another thing I tend to do is, after i've had my first meal which HAS to be as soon as I wake up (unless i just let myself go high bc im. upset), then I will wait till the end of the day, PAST the point I started to feel hungry, till I feel like i cant go any longer and THEN I will eat. I don't alwayss do this but I do it a lot just cause. I feel like the later I eat the less likely im going to feel hungry right before bed? and also i just dont want to deal with it until it's unavoidable anymore?

guys if i'm being so real. being diabetic IS having an eating disorder. like, there is no way of being diabetic that does not include disordered eating. and that's not even counting the diabetes-specific eating disorders that we have names for, like diabetic bulimia. like i feel like there should be a name for the relationship between the diabetic, the food that they eat, and the body they put it in. but right now we just call it "diabetes" and it's just a washed over part of the process of being alive with this shit

[c03xistentw01]

ight i have a lot on my mind i gotta write it all up real good real fast before i forget.

last night i went to some random ass town called Gorizia on the border with slovania for work. The whole region was so slovanian that even in the market where we worked the signs and shit they were all bilingual in italian and slovanian.

slovanian lowkey gives off turkish vibes.

not so many of us came from padova so we just hoped on a black van and left. the driver who gave off strong leonardo vibes was playing twenty one pilots for the good portion of the time. i liked him kinda. i was lowkey admiring his long neck the entire time of the trip when i was sitting behind him liKE A FUCKING PERV YES IKR.

i didn't get to have much convo with him. i actually got none. except for the time when after legit 6 hours of work in the market he saw me and was like "lets go lets go lets go" without even looking at me for a sec thinking well since I'm speaking english the lil bitch is supposed to I'm talking to her ight?

there was this other guy from pd who i legit got to have a convo in italian with which felt nice and ... weird? cuz I'm never mentally prepared to speak italian?

and oh my god I'll never forget 'Vlad'. My team leader there.

he would see me across the hall miles away and shout my name "Paaaaaaaria" with theatrical eye rollings. And then see my work and be like "Maaaaarvelous. If you ever need any assistance (except for of course boyfriend material stuff) just call me. I'm used to be called with any consonant".

he once moved some stuff which made a loud noise i looked at him he was like im sorry i didnt mean to be this much dramatic *followed by yet another theatrical eye roll".

basta. when i got home and to my bed i was so tired i couldn't even sleep. i woke up at 11 am tho. went to mensa. got anxious. felt short (about that i was walking in portello some other day with hilal when a tall girl was walking towards us with her friend i heard her say "bassa" looking at me and the other "si sente" and looking down.

yes.

ladies and gentlemen. this happened. people are mean dead-inside assholes. They say whatever shit they want, making more space in your mind to wonder whether other people have always thought the same but never mentioned it.

although the pain the bitch inflicted was soon oddly compensated when hilal said "but girl you are average".

later that night when we were already drunk we decided to go to hilal's house and get more booze on the way because why not and also because hilal left italy to turkey on the following day.

we got there got more drunk. ade joined. we got high. I started speaking italian ade was like wtf you're at least B1.

before that hilal was talking about berfin and sometimes i get this feeling when other people are opening up to me deeply that okay but why do i not do that with them? like why do i find it so freaking difficult to open up about something that happened to me and was way more brutal but there my friends. is exactly where you start losing friends. so you keep your mouth shut.

but anyway. that night i realized it's different with hilal. when she opens up mi sento piu leggere invece.

i saw fatima today at mensa after a longass time cuz she was in cividale and i was just ... busy surviving the shitwave of shit of which I've had nothing but recently. She told me about this weirdass roomie of her who according to her has been hacked by some creepy dude for the past 12 fucking years. the dude even deleted his thesis and stuff. Fatima said i even once asked her to share her internet with me through hotspot and she was like no this is how my sister got hacked as well i dont recommend u do the same. i mean the whole fucking situation is so fucking creepily stupid we all dont know whether to feel pity whether to laugh cuz shit looks so fucking um .... surreal? or to call the police asap cuz i mean cmon.

[ellerevelle]

hello again

Its been an eternity. I had to login with my yahoo email. My YAHOO. email. 

I’ve been sitting in the same position, at my computer, slouched over watching netflix for hours now. Not accomplishing a damn thing except panic. I’ve been enjoying the program I’m watching but continually keep checking my phone. As one does. 

I check Instagram to look for that little red message notification indicating a new DM. Its not obsessive, but I do feel relieved to see someone is there. I’ve been alone in my room, day in day out, for what feels like months now. I go to work, I go out dancing occasionally, but all in all, I’m lazing in my bedroom. Its basically my studio apartment, despite living in a 4 bedroom rented house. 

I’m here to journal. Because my life needs an entire overhaul. I really wonder whats wrong with me. Today I examined a LinkedIn job listing for, upon reading the details, is like- THE job. THE DREAM JOB. And I have no qualifications. 

If I had even remotely TRIED. AT ALL. the last, oh I dont know, TEN YEARS OF MY LIFE to do anything actually photography work related, I’d be maybe closer to qualified. But despite talking like I’m an artist, despite going to goddamn art school, despite telling myself or others I meet “yea I’m a photographer,” ... it has to be what you DO. As a VERB. And my cameras literally, absolutely, are coated in dust. I havent handled them in over a year. Probably more. 

What is wrong with me. I read the job description, I even took a screenshot of the listing for when it goes down, because I want to dream about it. Study it. But it says at the top of the list “at least 5 years of experience.” My last five years? have been bullshit. I’ve just gotten fatter and lazier and probably less mentally healthy. I mean, I’m barfing my thoughts on Tumblr again, I’m probably not okay. I’m here feeling like I’ve squandered my fucking years, that my life needs a genuine total overhaul. I am not mentally healthy. 

Why. Am. I. Afraid. To. Move.

Not move away, but literally MOVE. Work out, create, explore my city, meet people, even pick up a new book. I’m afraid to move. 

I need to clean my car. Its gotten out of hand. She doesnt deserve it. I feel like everything I SING about loving, I’ve stopped living up to. I talk about going on road trips ALL THE TIME. I feel like by letting my car fall into terrible disarray, I’m betraying myself. If I were to try to take a road trip, I’d have to do so much work. SO much work. Its so cluttered, the trunk is full of old clothes and weird concert souvenirs and random tupperware and literal trash. I need to vacuum it, I need to dust it, I need to clean the glass. I need to empty the entire thing out. I am afraid to do the work. I am unmotivated to do the work. 

Want to know what I’m thinking about why:

I want someone to care. 

I feel like I dont exist anymore. Like... no ones asking my any questions, no ones noticing me out there doing anything, I dont feel witnessed, I dont matter. So its really difficult to find motivation to do something that no one cares about. Which I dont mean to sound like the cliche “if you cant instagram it, did it really happen?” “if the tree falls in the woods but no one was there to see it, did it make a sound?” 

Its a vicious cycle, I observe, because in not doing the thing I think no one sees or cares about, the thing I CARE ABOUT definitely never happens and, therefore, doesnt exist to be cared about or seen at all. 

If I threw a party and nobody showed up, and quit throwing parties, then NO ONE would show up. Wayne Gretski “You miss 100% of the shots you dont take” la la la blah yes I know. 

Its so fucking scary. I feel so goddamn freaked out. I feel so obvious. Everyone wants to be loved and noticed, obviously. I’m in part afraid of no one caring, but also I’ve become so egotistical in a way- that if I AM seen, I want to be seen right. I want the right people around me. 

I’ve been dissappinted about people I’ve met or who has noticed me in this town. Again, ego, but like... I dont get hit on here. And those who DO, are AWFUL. I drive home after a night out and think - THAT guy? thought he had it to ask me for my number?

Not to sound cruel. But I’m talking like, total like... icky dudes. Or just blah dudes. 

I sparkle, and I want to share it with somebody ... whats a better way to say “with somebody who matters”? Because that sounds horrible. I dont see myself as some queen diva champion, but I just... have a lot and have lived a very interesting life, and I feel like its just kindof. Stopped. 

I hear some voices say that inspiration is bullshit. waiting for inspiration is an excuse. but like. 

what... how... HOW? How to just go and do things anyway when theres SO MANY THINGS THAT CAN DISSAPOINT YOU. SO MANY THINGS THAT CAN DRAIN YOU. SO MANY THINGS THAT CAN HURT YOU. SO MANY THINGS THAT CAN LEAD YOU ASTRAY. 

So in lieu of this fear, I’ve done nothing. I miss feeling fearless. 

I’ve felt happiness lately going to kpop shows. When the artist looks at me. Not a sexy look or even a real look, but I still feel seen. Your eyeballs, You this Artist I care about, has seen my face. Has felt my presence in the crowd. And I like to delusionaly think that matters. I know in a woo woo way, everyones energy matters, but I’m in my head really BELIEVING that my presence is special. So when I go out, or try to meet new people, and just get met with duds or nothing at all - I feel like it was a waste. Or, worse, that I’m the joke. And that I’m crazy for thinking I’m special at all. 

So. I need to clean my car. I need to get in shape. I need to dust off my cameras. I need to USE them. I need to play piano. I need to shred my magazines and make collage art again. I need to go out into nature and get attuned to the sunset and stars again. I need to even like, update my goddamn facebook page, and instagram and delete emails and FIX MY FUCKING LINKEDIN PROFILE BUT I’M SCARED. and lazy. And I want to have somebody to impress, but NOBODY. CARES. So why bother? But I genuinely feel like I’m disappearing! talking in circles. 

By not doing things for myself out of fear, I’m essentially proving the world right. By not existing, I dont exist. 

Why am I so scared? I mean, theres the Mom card. I’ve been aching to call her more than usual lately. This year I’ve felt the physical, tangible craving to call her. She died in 20...15? 2015. August of 2015. 

And I never knew what being loved like that felt like until it was gone. She knew me, she saw everything. And she thought I was the most special, just for existing. She had 5+ miscarriages after having my older brother. She didnt think she was gonna have another baby. Let alone a little girl. Then she got the call, that the pregnancy stuck, that I was gonna be her daughter. The doctors literally SEWED HER CERVIX SHUT to keep me up there long enough. I was still born a month early, but I was her treasure. She wanted me SO BADLY. 

I still dont know if her death was an accident or intentional, and I’m afraid to ask. I dont even know if my father would tell me the truth, he may need to believe it was an accident. But she was deeply depressed and addicted to hydrocodone, and she was found dead on our living room floor, all alone, on the day of her’s and my father’s 35th wedding anniversary. He was in the hospital at the time, he’d broken his shin bone weeks prior and has bad bones so he was in a rehab place. She was home alone, encouraged by him to just stay in and enjoy the house, and that they’d celebrate their anniversary another weekend. He sent her a bouquet of roses that she’d never see. They sat on our doorstep while she laid inside on the floor. It was devestating. Well, duh, thats an understatement. 

When I was going to therapy (I stopped over COVID and havent gone back) my therapist asked me “would it make anything different for you, if you knew?” and at first I answered No. But even the next day I was honest with myself and truly, it would make a huge fucking difference. Knowing if it was a mistake, too much wine, took an extra hydrocodone, got woozy and passed out, maybe hit her head, or maybe a heart thing. That would change everything, if she didnt WANT to leave us. If it was just a fluke. That’d make a very big difference. 

I’ve gotten over a lot since then and the layers of growth and wisdom I’ve developed is indescribable. I’m deeply proud of myself and who I am inside. But thats what makes me angry and sad right now. Why have I become such a blob? Surely I miss her love, even though it was so broken the last five years of her life with her severe depression. I forgive that, and I think she’d forgive me for being too young to understand and fight harder for her. Our hometown doesnt have shit in the way of Mental Health services. She needed worlds more help, and I couldve fought harder for her. Alas, I think she would be upset with me for thinking this way. She’d express “we’re the parents, its not on you to parent your own parents.” 

Anyways. I feel like my Father is loving me how he knows how. He’s great for sweet support, but not great with life advice. He’s the least ambitious man I know since he retired. He HATED work, but suffered and sacrificed infinitely for us anyway to keep our lives afloat, and for that I’ll be forever grateful. But since he got to leave work and came into family money, he doesnt do much unless he HAS to. He’s a music man, but hasnt played guitar or written songs or done anything creative in decades. He let it burn out. I respect him, I love him for him and try not to be disappointed about his choices but... its just difficult to express my feelings to him about these things. He’s like “Josie, dont worry I have money, you’ll never be in trouble.” And I just... I believe him but I dont believe him? I dont want to buckle into that. I feel like I need to earn that privelege. I cant just ask, I’m not a trust fund kid. Cant just be like DADDY I WANT TO GO TO MIAMI CAN I HAVE TEN GRAND? Like, no! First of all He’d never say yes to that hahaha. I’ve definitely lied (*white lied) to my family to sound more put together and “worthy” than I actually probably am. I talk about my job like its a bigger deal than it is, when in reality I’m only making $15 an hour and I’m late every single day. 

Fuck, speaking of. I was supposed to take a shower about 6 hours ago, but its 11:30pm and I have to go to bed and still havent gotten clean. Its been too many days. I’m gross. 

See!? my life needs a fucking overhaul. WHY AM I STRUGGLING TO TAKE A FUCKING SHOWER. 

I am broken dude. wtf. 

I feel more motivated to take care of myself WHEN I FEEL LIKE SOMEBODY GIVES A SHIT WHO I AM! Somebody to wash my hair for, dress up for. Even though truth is, I absolutely do it for me. I go out to a concert to be seen, sure, but when I’m getting ready, I LOVE my reflection. I love hanging out with music on and expressing artistry with makeup or clothing styling. I do it because IIIIII like it. And then out in the world, at least if no one else likes it, at least I do?

But it still requires an invitation out. Someone saying “hey come meet us at this bar!” or a great concert I want to see and SHOW UP for. TURN UP for. 

How do I do these things, how do I give a shit about showing up, if theres no invitation? if theres no obvious purpose other than just doing the thing?

I fear by existing out there, youre inviting critique. If i carry a camera around, people will ask to see. And what if I suck!!! What if theyre like “oh my god who the fuck does she think she is, carrying that nice ass big ass camera and her photos are so mediocre.” 

I dont want to be a joke. 

Sometimes I go into massive panic attacks getting dressed to go out because I feel like, too old and fat or the wrong genre to pull anything off and if I go out like... it’ll be the “who does she think she is.” 

fuck. 

fuck fuck fuck. I need to wash my face. I need to brush my teeth. 

I need to get a FUCKING LIFE. 

I want that Hybe America job. Content Preditor, they mushed together the words pre- and editor to make PREDITOR. How sexy could that be! 

The job description describes who I wish I was. Prepared, experienced, creative, multitasking, able to improvise, team leader, good with new people, passionate about the music industry. 

I havent taken any vitamins today. the EASIEST thing to do. because I hate walking into the kitchen to get water. 

Thats a WHOLE OTHER CAN OF WORMS. my living situation. this post is already too long. I’ve already procrastinated showering for far too long. I’ve already watched... lets see... NINE episodes, 40 minutes each. 

I need help. Talk more tomorrow. Or, yknow, six more years or however long the previous gap between my posts have been. 

[pixcldust]

𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 ;

pairing | rich!kuroo tetsuro x f! reader

wordcount | 1.1k

warnings | slightly suggestive

tags | rich boy x poor reader, love confession, one night stand/fwb to something ✨more✨, no beta i never have beta lmao

a/n | i dont really know if anyone is still here but this was part of a series i planned out ages ago about a rich kids au. never fully finished the series (idk i would love to pick it up again) but it’s been collecting dust in my drafts for ages. also i miss this account 🥺 love u, pls hydrate

matutine (adj): of or relating to early morning; occuring in the early morning

When your eyes blink open, the hotel room is dark and you are alone in the big big bed. For a brief, sleepy second, you think that he has already left. You feel a tired pang of happiness when you see that he hasn’t.

There’s a warm glow from the lamp in the corner that illuminates a figure standing by the window. You can smell the smoke from his cigar; a little sweet but mostly pungent, in your opinion. He doesn’t even like to smoke -- he told you that the first time you met -- but he’s always puffing away on his Cuban cigars. The logic behind that evades you, but you can always guess why. He smokes because he’s bored. He buys and hoards more tobacco than he should because he’s bored. He stays with you because he’s bored.

The last sentence wasn’t just a guess.

You crumple the sheets a little, as you move to sit up, and he turns to look at you. Cat eyes blink, backlit by the view only the top floor of a luxury penthouse can provide - neon car lights and tiny windows all blurred into a mess of light. And above it all, a starless night sky. The view is beautiful and unreal from here.

“What time is it?” your voice is a croak, swept over by tiredness. 

“It’s 3:30 am,” he replies, putting the cigar into the ashtray. “Sorry. I know you hate this kinda stuff.”

Being the only son of the president of one of the biggest conglomerates in Japan, Kuroo Tetsuro was first in line to claim the company after his father stepped down. And yet here he was putting  out a $70 cigar early because a part-time waitress, whose closet was half-filled with thrift store clothes, didn’t like the smell. You’d be flattered if you didn’t know that $70 was almost nothing to him. He would pay over $100 for a smoke without batting an eyelid. You know that far too well.

“It’s only three thirty? I shouldn’t have woke up,” you sigh, brushing a hand over your face. “I don’t know how I’m going to go back to sleep again.”

A sly grin appears on Tetsuro’s face - it’s familiar and annoyingly sexy. How dare he look like that? You can’t help feeling a bit bitter.

“Want me to tire you out a little?”

You roll your eyes even as you smile, as he climbs back into the bed to rest both arms on the headboard. Caging you in, under his shirtless body. He smells fresh, like he’d just step out of the shower, despite the underlying scent of his cigar smoke. “Once a night is quite enough, thanks. I’ve got a morning shift tomorrow, and I’d like to retain my ability to walk.”

When you first met Tetsuro, at a shitty hole-in-the-wall bar that you never returned to after, he’d said all the right things in the right way. You didn’t even know he was one of the richest 20-something year olds in the country when he laughed at your sarcastic jokes, when the conversation somehow turned to kissing. You thought he was just another bar fling. Watching his lips quirk up into a smile, there’s a sense of relief that washes over you; you’re glad that he’s become more than that, as loathe as you are to admit your feelings to yourself.

His laughter shakes the bed beneath you. After months of this - this strange relationship where the both of you are something more than friends, but not quite lovers - you’ve learned to tell the difference between his mirthless chuckles and his genuine, albeit ridiculous, laughter. It’s nice that he’s been carrying out the latter more frequently around you.

“That should be flattering, but it doesn’t sound as kind coming from you,” he drops his arms and roll to the side, one leg draped over yours. Only the blankets keep your skin from touching his. “Want me to send you there? I’m free all day tomorrow.”

It’s sweet of him to offer, but the mental image of his red Rolls-Royce pulling up to the tiny neighbourhood diner, and a waitress in patched up jeans stepping out was too amusing. You tell him as much, while he trails a hand up your bare arm to tap your shoulder mindlessly. “I’m pretty sure it’d end up on the news: president’s son drops off minimum wage waitress at tiny diner. Your dad would probably murder you.”

He pinches your shoulder, playfully, moving his hand to your chest. “He can try, but am I really at fault for doing a favour for my favourite person?”

“Your favourite person, huh?”

“Yeah, of course,” he laughed, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. His breath is warm. “Hey Y/N?”

Your hands move to comb through his unruly hair. “What?”

“Don’t freak out, but I think I love you.”

Oh. Your fingers froze. There it was.

After the first night, when you woke up to find empty sheets and a neat white business card on the bedside table, you googled him. He scribbled a little message under his name and his position as Supervisor for Kuroo Group -- one of the richest conglomerates in Japan that so happened to share his last name. You’d read the message so many times, you could recite it by heart now -- ‘Thanks for last night. Call me whenever you feel like. I had fun.’. 

The Internet told you he was a notorious playboy with a personality that endless wealth always seemed to incur: confident, detailed and bored. So so bored with his flow of gold and his shiny toys and all his different suits and ties. There are accounts, from other alleged one-night stands and business partners. They all say the same thing: that he could charm the pants of anyone and that his words dripped like honey - thick and sweet, boasting the kindness of a saint and the slyness of a sinner. 

As his dark eyes bore into yours, waiting for a response to… whatever the hell that just was, you think that maybe the Internet has lied. His words aren’t honey - they spill like expensive champagne, Dom Perignon Rose, bubbly and valuable. Something you find yourself drowning in often, although you don’t know if you could ever admit that to anyone but yourself.

“Y/N? You okay? Look, I’m really sorry if that weirded you out but I just thought that it would be unfair to act like I don’t feel anything for you.”

You don’t want to admit it but fuck, he just might be worth drowning for. 

[honeypirate]

Can I request a All Might x reader where class 1-A finds out hes dating someone whose quirk is a siren (Can control someone when they sing)? Maybe the students reaction especially Midoryia?

I don’t know if I did this one justice hahah but I did my best!

AllMight x reader (I went for gn but I might have slipped up in a few places just let me know)

Hero name: Sirenity

“Okay class today we are having a surprise special guest coming to talk to you guys” Aizawa sounds completely uninterested in this day and honestly he did feel like it was a drag, but he figures with your lecture and answering questions he could buy at least a 30-40 minute nap, at best you’d take up the whole hour. That is if nothing went wrong and with you being the number 5 hero he doesnt think too much trouble will happen. “They are a fairly new hero but that didn’t stop them from rising to the top ten quickly” you walk through the door and chuckle when it seems you interrupted him introducing you.

“Sirenity here will be talking to you about their experience with hero training and being a side kick” You were a few minutes early and Aizawa was mentally adding the few minutes more to his nap time. As Aizawa was zipping up his sleeping bag you stopped in front of the class with a smile “Good morning class!” you say to the students who were freaking out talking to each other about how cool you are, you see a green haired boy absolutely losing his damn mind in the back, muttering to himself while staring with wide eyes. “QUIET!” Aizawa yelled from his place on the floor and the class stopped talking, the green haired boy snapping out of whatever he was doing.

“Hey guys! I’m Sirenity and if you aren't familiar with me my quirk is like a siren, I can control people when I sing. I’m also an amazing swimmer but it isn’t related” you chuckle and watch the green haired boy laugh and then scribble intensely in a notebook, a few other students gave you pity laughs or smiles and you took it, any laughter is good in your book.

“When I graduated from UA, I was actually in general studies. It wasn’t until I went to America and went to a hero university that I realized what I could offer as a hero. I actually had a little help and training from a friend to really encourage me to realize my dream.” green haired boy’s hand flies in the air, his other hand coming over his head to hold his elbow, his eyes shine as he waits for you to call on him. “Yes in the back? What’s your name?” he stands and bows “Izuku Midoriya Ma’am/Sir but my hero name is Deku!” you hold in a chuckle as you smile at his enthusiasm, realizing this is the boy that All Might talks about all the time. a blonde in the middle of class snickers but you ignore it “it’s a pleasure to meet you Deku” he stands up straight and sends you such an intensely excited look “did you know All Might in America?!” he asks and then sits back down

“I did actually, he was the friend i was talking about. I stayed in America though when he came back here” you smile at the young boy as he scribbles away again, his question and the subject making you think about those days when you first met All Might. Strong and cocky, always smiling. You didn’t like him when you first met him, thought it was weird that a kid in your same high school also came to the same area in America. You kept finding yourselves around the same people during parties which was even more annoying when you were actively avoiding him. You blame his best friend at the time who was dating your best friend at the time. After a party that ended in drinking games with truth or dare and spin the bottle, you got to know him a little bit better and you became actual friends when you both ditched before they could rope you into seven minutes in heaven.

“Hey” you say with a slight chuckle as he walks into the kitchen where you were “hey” he says as you open the fridge “do you want a bottle of water?” “yes please” you chuck one to him on the other side of the kitchen. “You’re a…. support student?” he asks and you shake your head “general studies right now, thinking about going into law” you involuntarily scowl at the thought, it was what your parents wanted and you thought they were right. “Why do you look like you would rather die than do that?” he asks, pulling a deep sigh as you confess “it’s what my parents want for me” he moves close to you until he’s leaning against the counter across from you “what do you want for you?” you shrug “I dont know” he chuckles and takes a sip of water “why do I feel like you do know?” your cheeks flush and you dont feel like you could really sell a lie right now, you sigh again “i’ve always had a dream to be a hero, but I was in the general studies course in high school and now I’m undecided here. I feel like I wasted time and now I don't have a choice” you hop on the countertop behind you, kicking your legs gently “but you always have a choice. It is never too late to be a hero someone can count on. You never know if you are the one hero that someone needs! You can do anything! What is your quirk?” you get shy from his intensity and you look at your thighs “I can control people when I sing” you whisper and he closes all distance between you, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes “that is an AMAZING quirk! You are going to be an amazing hero! I can help you if you want” he says and you feel for the first time in your whole life that maybe, just maybe you could be a hero even though you’re late to the game.

“But any more questions will have to wait until the end!” you say when you see Deku’s eyes flash up to you again, a million questions floating around his eyes and he laughs with a nod. You continue with your story, recounting the extra training you had done with All Might to prepare for your hero exams, the exams you didn't have to take in high school. How an encouraging word from a friend was all you needed at times to get your ass in gear. You talk to them about your internship with America’s #4 mind hero, Brian, who’s one choice behind his name was that he thought it was funny because its just one misspelt letter from being Brain. His birth name wasn’t even Brian.

“After my internship I was offered a sidekick position with him, around this time was when All Might came back here, I had plans to come back as well but I couldn't refuse his offer. I worked with Brian for three years, during those times I grew exponentially as a hero and as an individual. you may want to rush the process of being a sidekick so you can become your own solo heroes, getting all the praise for yourselves. But this time in your career will mean so much and I really insist that you take the opportunity every day to learn everything you can from the heroes you work with. As someone who was late to the game, I have no doubt you will grow into even more amazing and brilliant heroes. More so than those we have right now, and yes I do mean All Might. You guys are the heroes of tomorrow! That is amazing! And I’m telling you right now you have a lifelong fan already” you point at yourself and mouth ‘ME’ with a smile “I am behind you all, ready to support your dreams just like my hero supported mine.” You pause for a moment “Any questions?”

Deku’s hand was up first followed by half of the class all raising their hands. You beam at the kids response “okay when i call on you please tell me your name or hero name, whichever you are comfortable with. Deku” you look over at him “I’m guessing you have about a billion questions?” he nods shyly, his cheeks flushing “that’s fine, i feel flattered honestly how about you ask the biggest one you have right now and then after you can stay behind and i’ll answer every single one. That goes for everyone who has more than we can get through in the next 15 minutes of class” they all nod and you begin taking questions.

You had all questions about being a sidekick or a pro, how hard it was rising the ranks, a blonde boy who introduced himself as Aoyama, who you thought was adorable, asked you how to not get scared, you smiled warmly at him “to quote one of my favorite american movies, “courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something is more important than your fear. The brave may not live forever, but the cautious do not live at all.”

You paused for a moment as you looked across the class, some really thinking about what you have said “I have fear, I feel it often, but I let the fear fuel my actions, let it make me brave because my biggest fear is about what would happen if I didn’t act.” you see Deku pause for a moment to truly think about your words before he scribbles away again.

You call on a pink haired student “hi i’m Mina Ashido! Hero name Pinky!” you love her energy “what’s your question Pinky?” she grins “I read in Hero Daily that you said you still find time for dating as a pro and that your boyfriend is also a pro. Do we know him?” she sits down and then adds “oh! What was that American movie?” you chuckle, your cheeks heating thinking about your boyfriend.

Before you could answer the door opens and All Might walks in “speak of the devil” you say with a grin and then turn back to Mina “the movie is the princess diaries. And you guys do know him i think quite well actually. Just another rebut of advice, if you guys want to date as pros, then you can find time for it if you really want that. It isn't for everyone and that’s okay too. But there is someone out there who will be an understanding partner and help encourage you. Don't give up any of your dreams, you can have all of them if you want them.” All might has stopped next to you as you talk, his hand resting on the small of your back as he leans up to whisper in your ear “I couldn't wait any longer. I missed you” your cheeks flush and the class starts to put 2 and 2 together, whispering to each other as you turn and kiss his cheek, Mina squealing in excitement, whispers flying around, blonde boy that hasn’t said anything this entire time was staring with mouth open, and you can feel the energy Deku is pouring out as his scribbles freeze as he stares at his idol and hero. His hero had a significant other and he didnt know.. He knew everything about All Might so how come he never knew he had a S/O and why didnt All Might Say anything?! Waves were rolling off the kid but you didn’t say anything about it yet, you just leaned closer to All Might “I missed you too” you whisper back to him but before you can say anything else the bell rings, signaling the end of class.

Deku stays frozen in his seat as the rest of the students get their things together and leave the classroom, some stopping to shake your hand and talk to you for another second before leaving. All Might’s hand never leaving your back. When the room is clear, somehow Aizawa slipping out unnoticed as well, your eyes flick to Deku, still seated frozen. “Young man what’s wrong?” All Might says and he finally snaps out of it.

“Do they know about …?” he asks and you chuckle “yes I do. He talks about you a lot by the way” you say and smile at the sweet way the boy’s face flushes and his eyes widen, smiling like you just gave him the best news. “How come you never told me you were in a relationship?” Deku asks and All Might laughs “you never asked me about my dating life” you walk down the rows of desks and sit in the one next to Deku’s “I’m happy to answer any more questions you may have” you say and the boy short circuits again when you sit next to him. He cannot believe how lucky his day was, getting a one on one interview with an amazing pro hero that is also dating his Idol and father figure, give him a minute, he’ll pull himself together.

You spend the next 30 minutes answering every question the young hero had for you and All Might answered some for you, ones that you couldn't really explain correctly. This was probably your most favorite interview, his questions were almost entirely about your hero work, they were thought out and original questions that weren’t superficial to make the public interested in you. This boy wanted to know every single thing about you as a hero, not you as a public celebrity. His eyes bright as he learns more, asking how you defeated your worst villain, asking your weakness was a fun one, you never got that before since it was fairly obvious.”hard of hearing individuals, ear plugs” you say and he laughs “i should have known that” All Might shakes his head, sometimes common sense eluded the boy, he was so intelligent and unafraid of asking questions that sometimes he lacked common sense for seemingly simple things.

“I’m sorry Midoriya but Sirenity here has to get back to work now” Deku frowns but understands, you give him your personal email in case he has any more questions and then you follow All Might out of the classroom. You chuckle once you reach All Might’s office, he locks the door behind you and then pulls you into his arms “if you wanted some one on one time with Deku’s new favorite hero you should have just asked” you joke as you wrap your arms around him. “I know you dont have work but i do soon and i needed a little time with my brilliant and amazing partner before then. Midoriya will understand plus you gave him a way to contact you.” you nod into his neck “how long until you have to go?” you ask and he looks at his watch “20 minutes” you smile and take his hand, pulling him over to the couch he has in his office and you sit down with him, laying back and pulling his head to your chest, pulling your gloves off with your teeth, carding your fingers through his hair. The entire time he had was spent laying together, as he moves to get up you realize something, they think you are only partners, only dating… “Hey Yagi? How do you think Midoriya will react when you tell him that we aren't just dating and are in fact engaged?”

[theravencawsatmidnight]

Rabbit

Chapter Two. Pt One

After two years in Azkaban for how he treated you he was finally free. The only thing keeping him going was you. Now finally reunited with his Rabbit he thinks things will go easier for him. But Draco is struggling mentally and refusing to ask for help.

W! Heavy Ptsd, mental freak outs. Hearing voices, blood, bruises, cuts. Draco trying to convince himself he’s fine. Refusing to ask for help. Mental instability. The voices are the Dementors

Tags. @khemz1312 @squeaky-ducky @goofygobber @dracoslittlesunflower @trashyvicks @rosiehufflepuff @dracmalf0y-dm

It was him.. He found your shop , hes out .. hes.. He looks so broken, hurt, tired.

“Draco!” you ran over wrapping your arms around him crying hard into his chest trying to talk but nothing was making any sense. He was really here, after so long you could finally feel him against you , hear his heartbeat and feel his breathing on your head… but.. His heartbeat was slower than it should be and his breathing seemed to be staggered, was he trying to hide it ? Draco pulled you in closing his eyes just taking it in. He made it, alive.

She doesn't love you

We love you Draco

Come baaack...

“Draco?”

His breathing started to hitch.

Shes second guessing this whole thing.

“Draco?” you rubbed his chest so he would look at you. “You okay?”

The man shook his head getting rid of the voices and cupped your cheeks in his palms. “Is it really you, Rabbit?”

You giggled leaning into him. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

“Can we sit down?” he asked you looking around the shop not seeing anyone.

“Yes, wait here just gotta close up” gently you let go of him to go flip the OPEN sign over.

She hates this

Draco leaned on the counter holding his head. “Sshhut up….” he whispered.

You are not welcome here…

“Yes i am….”

Biscuit hopped over to the mans shaking hand to lay its head on it and the voices started to fade away. The man looked down to see the brown rabbit staring at him wiggling its nose. “I..” he flipped his hand over to scratch at the rabbits chin. “I cant tell her...this happens.”

You returned with a big smile on your face. “Aw he likes you already ! “ you picked up the rabbit holding him with one hand.

“Where did .. you get him..” Draco took your other hand following you up the stairs of your shop.

“The twins, graduation gift.cheeky bastards” you giggled nuzzling your cheek on the rabbit. “I love him though, hes helped a lot.”

“Rabbit..”

“Huh? Yes?” you sat Draco down in the living room and put Biscuit on his pillow.

Are you going to show her?

It might scare her.

He shook his head and started to unbutton his dress jacket. “I need to .. show you something.”

“Okay, whats wrong?” you joined Draco on the couch watching him pull his dress jacket off with shaky hands. “ Draco..?”

“Yes..?” his undershirt was pulled over his head .

“Your really shaky -..”

The bruises were a deep purple; they were all over his chest as if someone had been kicking him repeatedly in all the same spots. The middle of his chest, the lower half by his stomach and his arms around his shoulders.. All purple. Around his elbows had scratches from elbows to wrists that did not look good at all; they were sporadic red lines in all directions. His nails were short with red under them that seemed to not go away. His neck was full of cuts and his hands had cuts on them as well. You picked up one of Dracos hands to see his knuckles. Deep purple with fresh blood.

Told you the cuts would open…

Shes scared….

“Draco?”

He wasn't looking at you, just breathing hard and whimpering. “M’fine..”

“Stay right here okay?” you got up hurrying off into your restroom.

See?

She ran away from you

Your not the same person you once were

You cant fit in

Come back….

He shook his head but they just got louder.

Come back…

Come back…

Come back…

“Shut up…” Draco leaned on his knee holding his head up with his hand staring at the sleeping rabbit. “..b-b--biscuit…”

The rabbit opened an eye to see Draco on the verge of a breakdown. He got up hopping over cautiously so Draco could pick him up and set him on his lap.

Come…...ba.aa..ck..

He exhaled heavily once the voices left…

You had returned as well with some medicine and health potions. “Here, these will help, i made them” you held up the purple potion to him . “just drink this..”

Draco took the flask in a shaky hand drinking the sweet tasting liquid, he felt his body aches fade away and saw you wrapping up his knuckles. “I cant heal the bruises but.. “

“Do you still want me……”

“Huh?”

His hand cupped your cheek after putting the flask down. “Even if i look like this..”

“Draco id want you no matter what.” you kissed him. “Promise.”

He leaned into you heaving heavily. “Of course you would rabbit.”

Your arms wrapped around him to rub his back, his breathing was still off to you.. “Draco..what happened in..”

“I dont want to talk about it… not yet.” he cut you off fast. Dropping the conversation.

“Alright alright.. Lets go to bed instead.” you got up taking hsi wrapped hands in yours leading him up to the bed, Biscuit had hopped off Dracos lap to go back to his pillow to sleep.

It was a small room but you liked it, Draco ditched his pants, socks realizing he would need clothes . He looked at the bed staring at it for a long time. This would be the first night not in a cell…. In two years..

Its not the same

Don't you miss the cell?

Draco dug his hands in his hair, closing his eyes. “Shut up.. Leave me alone.”

We are a part of you now Draco.

We will never leave..

You came over moving the blanket down for him and pulling him over , your eyes down.

“Rabbit? Whats wrong?” he tipped your chin up seeing your sad face staring at him.

“The-the last time we … shared.”

He pressed you to him squeezing very tight. That night, that awful night , he was his worst.

Even she remembers that….

Awful…

Draco shook his head and leaned down to press his forehead to yours looking in your eyes. “Rabbit, I promise. I will never do that again.”

You waved your hand around ”i know.. Im just.. I want to “ you could not help but laugh. “ i want to snuggle.”

Draco hitched out a chuckle and kissed your forehead. “Oh Rabbit, of course.” you followed Draco into the bed and he pulled the covers up and laid your head on his chest. Soft.. comfortable.. Warm. it had been so long for him.

“Draco.. The light”

“Oh.” reaching out he grabbed the long string , his arm around you squeezed your shoulder as he pulled it making the room very dark. You snuggled into Draco and he did the same, running his fingers up and down your shoulder staring into the pitch black ceiling. This was not like the first night.. You were so scared of him.. Would not even face him in bed or look at him. Hes still amazed you stayed all night.

..

…

….

.

…..

A couple hours later. Draco was still awake holding your sleeping body.

Its dark isn't it ?

Draco shut his eyes, breathing slightly hard.

Remindssss us of the cell

Do you miss the dark..?

We miss the dark

“Leave me alone…”

But why? Dont you want to see us?

“ i want you to get out of my head..” his hands found his hair.

Do you think you can get rid of us on your own…?

His breathing was picking up, when he opened his eyes all he saw was darkness staring back at him, the room was starting to spin.

At least in the cell you had the moon…

The one light …

“Go … aa a- away…”

He got up in bed carefully laying you back down on his pillow.

She does not love you.

“Yes she does..” he got out of bed stumbling in the dark hitting the wall. “She does.. She loves me” he stammered out to the hallway feeling around for the light switch flipping it on. “Dammit Draco.. Your fine.. Pull it together…”

Are you sure…?

You can hardly walk..

“I just need some water… ignore them..” he shook his head, getting a small moment's peace. Draco found the kitchen slamming a cabinet open grabbing a glass. His wrist hit the sink turning on the water, he held the glass under getting the water more on his wrist then the cup.

You cant do things on your own anymore

The water was turned off and draco lifted the very shaky glass up to his lips while drinking .

Shes going to tell you to leave………

The glass shattered in Draco's hand waking you up to see the bed empty and the light on. “Draco?” quickly you got out of bed getting to the hallway just to stop when you heard him.

“I'm fine! Just needed some water…” his hands were bleeding . “go back to sleep Rabbit..”

“But.. I heard something.. Are you sure?” he heard your footsteps .

“Yes, Rabbit. Go to bed.” he tried to sound like he used to , when he had you under his finger in school. It must have worked because he heard you turn around and go back to bed. Draco leaned over the sink watching his tears hit the broken glass . “i … i cant tell her….”

[peanut-butter-parkerxx]

First Meeting

Where y/n gets lost on the subway trying to go back to her new home in queens and meets a certain brown haired boy...

Pairing: Peter x fem!reader

Status: strangers...for now ;)

Y/n POV

Please TELL ME WHY NEW YORK HAS SO MANY SUBWAYS. I've been trying to find my subway stop for the past 20 minutes! And I only have 10 mins left before it leaves! So I'm basically scrambling trying to find train 21C.

while I was running, I saw a brown haired boy wearing a blue long sleeve shirt and a dark blue jacket, listening to music. The wire of his earphones is tucked behind his shirt, and his curls are loosening from the gel he put on.

I really couldn't keep my eyes off of him so I just followed, I couldn't find my subway anyway so what do I got to lose? He finally stopped walking and guess which train he takes...21C

talk about coincidence, I mentally thanked him, even though I don't know this incredibly handsome stranger. and got in the train. I took a seat and scanned the train to find him again.

Peters POV

I was walking to my train, running a little late, but I felt like I was being watched due to my spidey senses, I just shrugged it off coz I had to get to this train as soon as possible.

Once I got in, I decided to stand the whole way, because other people need the seat more than I do. And I just kept scrolling through my phone until the train started moving and I couldn't control my hands and the phone just slipped out of my fingers.

So the phone fell on the ground, I bent down to take it and I felt the same feeling, like I was being watched, so when i stood up I looked infront and saw..probably the most beautiful girl I've ever seen.

Y/n POV

Our eyes locked, OUR FREAKING EYES LOCKED, i can see him fully now, his (know I know) brown eyes and lightly freckled face looked at me with...a slight smile? OH MY GOD HES SMILING AT ME...GOD Y/N SMILE BACK! and thankfully I did.

he kept staring at me and I obviously stared back...until the announcement came up scaring the both of us.

ANNOUNCEMENT: WELCOME EVERYONE, OUR FIRST STOP IS JACOBUS ST. PLEASE STAY IN YOUR SEAT AT ALL TIMES AND THANK YOU.

After the announcement i shuffled at my seat trying to get comfortable, putting on my headphones and turning my "while at the subway" playlist I created 30 mins ago. And I kept seeing this boy stealing glances towards me which made me blush.

Peter POV

Ok ok she's so pretty how did I not see her before? I could've looked forward to go to the subway more? Wait- maybe she's new here...I CAN GIVE HER A TOUR- ok stop Peter she's probably new here and I don't know if we'll be friends, hopefully we will be friends...and more OK STOP. I got interrupted by ned texting me.

Guy in the chair 🤓: Ned

Pickle Parker 😜: Peter

Guy in the chair 🤓: Pete, u there yet?

Pickles Parker 😜: DUDE THERE'S A REALLY PRETTY GIRL IN MY TRAIN RN AND IDK WHAT TO DO

Guy in the chair 🤓: thanks for ignoring my question 🙄

Guy in the chair 🤓: wait-

Guy in the chair 🤓: WAIT WHAT?

pickle Parker 😜: AND U REALIZED JUST NOW???

Guy in the chair 🤓: talk to her, DONT PASS UP THE OPPORTUNITY! and if she's a bratty brat brat, then I'm sorry bro you'll find one dw

Pickle Parker 😜: "bratty brat brat" ???

Pickle Parker 😜: anyways ok thanks bro, wait the train stopped and the woman next to her left, maybe I can sit next to her?

Guy in the chair 🤓: WHY TF ARE U ASKING??

pickle Parker 😜: ok ok jeez

Ok Peter you got this, I turned off my music so I can focus more, and just went for it. She was also listening to music while reading a book, annnnnd I went for it, I WENT FOR IT HOLY MOTHER OF-

y/n POV

I was peacefully reading while listening to my music when i suddenly felt a presence beside me, I turned to my left and saw him...YES HIM OH GOOD LORD HES SITTING NEXT ME LOOKING NERVOUS AS HELL AWWW, wait why is he nervous? IS IT BECAUSE OF ME? OMG OMG

"h-hey" the boy said nervously, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck

"Hi!" Oh my god Why am I screaming! y/n stop keep it down a notch!

"Are you new here? Coz I've never seen you in this train before" the boy said

not looking in my eyes, clearly his nerves are still eating him up which made me laugh a bit

"Yeah I am" i said "I'm y/n..by the way" I extended my hand awkwardly

"P-Peter, Peter Parker" he shook my hand, Peter huh? It suits him, there was a moment of awkward silence not knowing what to talk about, but then Peter interrupted the silence by asking:

"So which grade are you in?...not trying to be creepy or anything you just look-"

"Grade 10" I replied laughing a bit, trying to stop his rambling

"Oh, uh me too!" He said, a little bit more confident now and..relieved? He's probably happy that we're in the same grade

"Which school do you go to?" He asks another question.

"Oh ummm.." I say kinda nervous he'll leave me for what I'm about to say "it's uhh midtown.." I say, now I getting nervous. His facial expressions were unreadable, oh no he's probably gonna ditch me for being a nerd.

"REALLY? I uh mean really? Me too!" he beams, so the hot cute guy is also a genius?

"So I'll see you more often then?" I smirk

"y-yeah yeah hopefully" he blushes, I made him blush!! Ugh he's so cute

"what we're you listening to?" Peter asks trying to hide his blush

"oh 'left hand free' by alt-j" I reply shrugging my shoulders.

"And she keeps getting better and better" he whispered hanging his head low

"What?" I ask smiling, knowing exactly what he said

"Oh uhh nothing, I just know we're gonna be great friends" he says smiling at me, and

Oh what an understatement that was...

OKKKK THAT WAS MY FIRST IMAGINE I have a lot of ideas and I can't wait to publish them, I'm thinking of doing YouTube and TikTok ones as well so if you have any ideas just text me! 

[moms-who-cuss-and-cry]

CALLING ALL MOMS!!!!

...or at least the ones who cuss like a sailor and have mental breakdowns at least once a day...

I want to start by introducing myself. My name is Veronica. I am a single mom of 2 kids who constantly make me question my sanity. I have a 7 (going on 17) year old daughter, and a 3 month old son who drowns me in drool.

I don't fit the mold of the "typical mom". I hardly ever brush my hair. I run on about 6 cups of coffee a day. I cuss...A LOT... I have a couple piercings, and more than just a few tattoos. And to be completely honest...I'm NOT FUCKING SORRY. I'm doing the best I possibly can.

I'm starting this blog (if you can even call it that) in hopes that other moms like me can feel included, and possibly less shitty. I'm tired of being labeled as a "bad mom" because I shove a ziploc bag filled with stale, off brand, cheerios in my daughters backpack for a school snack. Or because my son wears the same onesie 2 days in a row because I've been too overwhelmed to dig through the PILES of unfolded laundry in different areas of my home. I'm exhausted. And I'm pretty sure a lot of you moms out there are too. So, for us "sub-par" moms who think so little of ourselves but STILL get up and kick ass every day, because we freaking love our kids so much that it hurts...wanna be friends?

DISCLAIMER!!!:

-I WILL CUSS A LOT.

-I WILL CRY A LOT. (And believe me, I'm an ugly cryer)

I will complain about everything and everyone. And I will probably sit here and bash someone I don't like, just because I can hide behind a fake name and not have to fake smile around them. (I'm talking about you perfect cookie cutter, PTA moms! Jk lol 😆) I may even torture you all with my problems, because I'm a single mom with no friends. So why not publicize my issues on a platform for the WORLD to see!? I could use a couple more "haters" judging me and grading me as a parent. I'm up for the challenge.

So if this sounds like a place where you can read about all my fuck ups and my below average parenting skills so that you dont feel so bad about yourself, then join the club! We can make jackets and sit at the park, drinking spiked coffee at 10 a.m., and pretend to watch our kids like hawks, all while hoping they don't jump off the jungle gym and break an arm. You're my kind of people!

On a serious note though...this is a JUDGE FREE ZONE! I'm here to share my story. I'm here to relate to you when you feel like you've had the worst day. Or when you feel overwhelmed because you haven't had time to work on your kids school project, or clean, or even shower! We've all been there! And let me tell you moms...you're the shit! Cause I promise you that even when you feel like the worst parent in the world, your kids disgusting, grubby little hands will be reaching out to lovingly caress your face or hug you before bed EVERY. Fucking. Night. So give yourself some credit. That's something I'm finally learning to do for myself. So let's laugh, CRY, and learn together ❤️

#momswhocussandcry #mom #momlife #parenting #mediocremom #subparmom #introduction #humor #jk #lol #sorrynotsorry