#if it was a friend who doesn’t take a lot of energy i’d definitely say yes without a doubt but now i’m just not sure tbh

[thefleshyougoveggie]

there are two wolves inside me. one wants to cancel my plans because i desperately need to rest and the other doesn’t want to because i want to see my friend and also i need distractions from… things..,.

stay tuned to find out which one wins!

[kiwi-bitchez]

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.

[bullet-prooflove]

Song prompt for Manny Perez

But honey if I had to choose

Oh I'd rather ride around with you

Tagging: @burningpeachpuppy @acesgunner95 @caffeinatedwoman @unknown6669991

You disappear into the background when Manny’s ex-wife Bobbi comes to town. You think he doesn’t notice but he does, he’s just too busy putting out the fires she’s lighting up in Gabriella’s life to be able to deal with it.

It’s almost a week later that he realises he hasn’t heard from you. No calls, no texts, no sleep overs. Bobbi has a way of doing that, taking over his life, drowning out everything else with her chaos. He’s barely had more than a couple of minutes to himself between his shifts with Three Rock and running interference between her and Gabby.

It’s five in the morning when he forces himself out of bed and drags himself down to the beach. It’s the only place he can guarantee you’ll be and the truth is he wants a little one on one time.

You’re already in water by the time he gets there, bobbing by a little way from the shore, your gaze fixed on the horizon as the sun rises. He considers joining you but this is where you get your peace, where you come to take a breath and he doesn’t want to interrupt that moment.

When you step out the water he can’t help but smile. You’ve never been shy about your body and that’s one of the things he loves about you, your confidence, your unflinching ability to know who you are, to never doubt it.

He hands you the towel before you wrap it around yourself and drop down into the sand alongside of him. You nudge his shoulder lightly and he nudges you back.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around.” He finds himself telling you. “My ex-wife… She’s a lot.”

“Oh I know.” You tell him, taking a sip from your water bottle. “I thought I’d give you a little breathing room with everything that was going on between her and Gabby.”  

“I don’t want you to think that I don’t care about you.” Manny tells you as his hand comes to rest upon yours on the sand. “That she comes back into my life and I forget about you.”

“I don’t think that.” You tell him as your fingers entwine with his. “I think that dealing with Roberta takes a lot of time and a lot of energy and that requires mental space so you don’t lose your shit and murder her.”

You’re not wrong, handling Bobbi was a full time occupation when they were married. She thrived on drama, on wreaking havoc on his life. Being with you is a breath of fresh air because he can relax, he’s never waiting for the next bomb to drop.

“You know anyone else would be pissed off but you…” He trails off because he just can’t find the words.

“Did you think I’d be spoiling for a fight?” You ask, tilting your head towards him.“This isn’t about me, it’s about you and Gabby trying to survive Hurricane Roberta, I’m just trying to stay out of the way so you don’t feel like you have to deal with another casualty.”

“She’s already tried to scare you away hasn’t she?” He says studying the expression on your features.

“She’s a bitter woman.” You remark, your fingertips tracing over the stubble of his jaw. “But then again, I would be too if I had run you out of my life.”

“That’s something you could never do.” He tells you, his lips brushing over your pulse point. “Whatever happens between the two of us, I’ll always be in your life. As your friend, your lover…”

“I definitely prefer lover.” You assure him and a blush creeps across his cheeks because the way you’re looking at him reminds him you aren’t wearing a single scrap of clothing underneath that towel.

“Good because I can’t imagine how hard it would be trying to be your friend knowing what’s under here.” He murmurs, his fingertips trailing along the hem of the towel.

“I can’t imagine how hard you might be under those jeans.” You tease as the towel loosens and slips from your body.

“Did I mention how much I’ve missed you over the past week?” Manny murmurs as his body covers yours, guiding you back onto the sand.

“No.” You smile, reaching down between the two of you to unzip his fly. “But maybe you can show me.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[howlsofbloodhounds]

If Delta and Killer ever become friends, it will most likely be only because of Color, and they will pretend to get along with each other (in truth, they don't). I see it more like this than anything else.

Also, they really do look like a cat and dog (in terms of attention to Color), although they are also capable of becoming either neutral or friendlier to each other if they live together for a long time.

Do you really think they can be friends?

I would love to say they’re friends in my perfect fantasy world, but on friendly terms I can at least somewhat see with time. I think Delta would actually be very helpful with things like helping Killer release all the pent up, manic energy of Stage 3–and believe it or not, I’d imagine Delta would have a much easier time with Stage 1 and 3 Killer than Stage 2 lmao.

Like I can definitely see Delta willing to step up and help Stage 1 through things like flashbacks, panic attacks, or even seizures if Color isn’t around to help. I don’t think Delta wishes Killer any genuine harm (eventually), and is willing to try and help him where he can because ultimately Delta’s just a good guy. I can definitely picture Delta definitely helping shut down any of Stage 1’s guilt, shame, or fear spirals.

And I honestly think Delta probably loves squabbling with Stage 3. It rarely ever happens, and if Delta ever manages to intimidate or otherwise discourage Stage 3 from a fight response, he’d just grumble at Delta before going off to hide somewhere. I’d imagine Delta loves helping tiring Stage 3 out lmao—Delta’s quick on his feet and can take a lot of hits.

And I think eventually Stage 2 will start reciprocating what Delta has done for him and for Color. He recognizes that Delta hasn’t hurt him at his most vulnerable, isn’t scared of and doesn’t hate Stage 3–and importantly, is someone important to Color, who is important to Killer. He recognizes that Delta wants to protect Color too—so he will reciprocate by extending his resources, skills, and allegiance to Delta too. Relationships often tend to take a transactional view for Killer, so he will do his part and look after Delta too.

They may not be friends in a typical traditional sense, but they’re looking out for eachother and the ones they both care about. And that’s a lot for Killer.

[dracoqueen22]

For Melly: Aerith/Tifa - against all odds

Tifa is exhausted. 

She’s covered in cuts and bruises. Her body aches. Her head’s spinning, and worst of all, her heart has taken a beating. She doesn’t understand Cloud. She doesn’t know Cloud. She wonders if she ever did. 

And she definitely isn’t sure what happened five years ago. Not anymore. 

Tifa’s exhausted, but she can’t sleep. Energy runs through her veins, adrenaline certain another battle might come bursting through that door. She can’t seem to calm down. 

It doesn’t seem like Aerith can sleep either. She’s been staring at the ceiling and fiddling with the buttons on her dress for as long as Tifa’s been fruitlessly counting chocobos. She’s up to 963. 

Tifa rolls on her side, facing Aerith, arm tucked under her cheek. “Can’t sleep either, huh?” 

“You’d think I’d be exhausted,” Aerith says. She turns to face Tifa, their bodies a pair of parentheses on opposite beds. Her shoulders are bare, but Tifa isn’t sure why she’s focusing on that fact. “I mean, I’m definitely tired, but I guess that’s not enough.” 

“Worried?” Tifa asks. “About your mom?” 

Aerith smiles, gentle and sweet all the way to her willowy bones. “No. She can take care of herself.” 

“Do you think we made the wrong choice?” Tifa blurts out, almost before Aerith can finish answering. It’s something Tifa’s gnawed on, over and over, especially after Cloud’s recitation of an event he can’t have seen. 

Is he wrong because he’s lying on purpose? Or is he actually remembering something he experienced because the choice they made, there on that highway, has fundamentally altered the course of their universe? Is he even her Cloud? Or is Tifa the one misremembering? 

Tifa doesn’t know. 

“It’s too soon to say.” Aerith draws nonsense on the mattress in front of her. That soft smile lingers. “It’s terrifying, but it’s also kind of exhilarating.” 

Tifa would chalk Aerith’s optimism up to naivete, but that’s far from the truth. Aerith’s life hasn’t been a picnic and that she can still be sweet is a testament to her strength. 

Tifa envies her for it. That strength that allows her to be weak. 

“How so?” she asks. 

“Well, I’ve never had a sleepover before,” Aerith says with the frankness that makes Tifa’s heart ache. “Or a girlfriend.” She pauses, cheeks going pink. “I mean, a woman who is a friend. Woman-friend? No, that just doesn’t have the same ring to it.” 

Tifa laughs quietly as Aerith’s face scrunches with genuine confusion. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had a girlfriend,” Tifa says. “Most of the kids my age were boys.” 

“Like Cloud?” 

Tifa’s too slow to stop the flinch. It’s hard to say if Aerith noticed. “Yeah,” she says quietly, but then the memory hits her, easing the sting. “Though he’s always been pretty enough.” 

“He sure is.” Aerith giggles and turns on her back, stretching her arms over her head with a hum. “But that’s what I mean. We made a choice and decided to fight, and now here I am, against all odds, on my first sleepover.” 

Tifa doesn’t tell her all the ways this doesn’t count. It’s a simple wish. A simple joy. She wants Aerith to have it. 

“Do you think we should have a pillow fight?” Aerith asks, but before Tifa can answer, she laughs and says, “Hmm. Maybe not. I think you’d win in one hit.” 

“I’d be gentle,” Tifa says. 

“I know you would.” Aerith’s grin makes Tifa’s heart go thump-thump-thump in a way it hasn’t before. 

Aerith abruptly sits up and looks around as if an idea has popped into her mind. “Hmm,” she says. “There’s not enough furniture to make a fort, and I don’t think that vending machine had any candy. I’m stumped on ideas.” 

“Aren’t we a little old for sleepovers anyway?” 

“Probably.” Aerith sighs, and there’s a wealth of disappointment in the small sound. “I guess we should be sleeping. We have a lot more walking ahead of us.” 

Aerith flops back, pulls the blanket up to her chin, and stares at the ceiling. She dutifully closes her eyes, and Tifa feels a bit like she’s kicked a bucket. Could it really hurt to entertain such an innocent joy? 

Tifa rolls off the bed, bringing her blanket with her, and flops down next to Aerith. “Tell me a secret,” she says as she squirms down to get comfortable. 

Aerith blinks at her. “What?” 

“It’s what you do at a sleepover.” At least, in Tifa’s experience, that what she thinks most young girls do. “You tell each other secrets.” 

“Oh.” Aerith’s cheeks turn a pretty pink. “I don’t think I have any that you don’t already know.” She presses her lips together, face scrunched in serious thought. 

“Nothing?” Tifa prompts as she tucks her arm under her head. “Not even an embarrassing story you don’t want anyone to know?” 

Aerith laughs and turns to face her, voice going softer like they are two young woman sharing a secret with no one else. “I have plenty of those stories. But what about you? Do you have any secrets?” 

“Too many,” Tifa sighs, and her thoughts wander again, to home, to Nibelheim, to five long, confusing years, and one stubborn, confusing blond the next room over. Maybe this is a bad idea after all. 

She shouldn’t spill all the troubles on her shoulders. Aerith shouldn’t have to help bear that load. She has enough problems without Tifa adding to her stress. Maybe this was a bad idea after all. 

Tifa shifts, intending to go back to her own bed, and back to chocobo number 964. But Aerith touches her arm, and that’s enough for Tifa to freeze. Surprised. 

“We don’t have to share secrets,” Aerith says, her resting hand curling into a gentle hold, “But we can share the bed. If you want, I mean.” 

Tifa’s heart throbs so loud, it thumps in her ears. Slowly, she settles back into place, arm tingling under the barely noticeable weight of Aerith’s hand. 

“That is one of the rules of sleepovers,” Tifa says, even though they’re both too old and bruised for such a thing. But they are also a lot alike. Tifa’s never had a “girlfriend” either. 

Aerith giggles and winks at her. “I won’t tell if you don’t. It can be our secret.” She holds out a hand, pinky crooked. “Promise?” 

Tifa’s face heats, almost like she’s blushing, but that would be ridiculous. No less ridiculous than hooking her finger with Aerith’s and saying, “Promise.” 

Lying there next to Aerith, Tifa doesn’t even get to chocobo number 965 before she’s fast asleep. 

***

[sageistri]

I can’t stand people who are very much it’s my way or the highway. Where if someone doesn’t do or say what they want then the other person is an asshole. I’m that friend in the group who doesn’t check in, doesn’t talk, and others have to put in the effort. I would do anything for my friends and I love them but I find it quite difficult to be social and to talk. Some of us are just very introverted or it takes a lot for us to come out of our shell. It’s not that we’re trying to be disrespectful or don’t like our friends it’s just harder for some of us. Why are we always having to think about peoples feelings but yet they don’t think about ours?! Why are we ass because we aren’t doing things your way. It’s giving “me me me me me allllll about me”. Jimin definitely shows how much he loves the members and always seems to fit his interactions to how his friends personality are. Which is why Jimin isn’t afraid to be more rough with JK or how he baby’s V more. Which I think is so sweet and the others have definitely shown how they love Jimin in THEIR way and that’s how you can tell they really do care. Most “Army” don’t actually pay attention to how the members are and their actual personalities with them it’s all surface level and shallowness they focus on one member don’t care about the rest and are completely delusional with the member they like to the point they push their belief of what that member is like instead of what the member really is like and what the member really wants. We are all not the same and people need to stop expecting people to be just like them that makes them the bad friend. Seems to me like these people mad about the three members are ass friends or have never actually had real friends so they don’t know what’s that like. Which is really sad everyone at some point should at least have one friends that means the world to them and vice versa. Also I see the members more as siblings than friends to be honest with you. If you think I’m bad with my friends I’m even worse with my family at keeping up with their lives lol but they know I’d die for them at the snap of their fingers.

I have my moments and I could be either person. One thing I am though is self aware.

Good for you if you can't reach out or socialise, but don't expect anyone to wait on you. You have the right to act that way, just like others have the right to interpret your actions exactly how you present them. "I love you but I just don't show it and would rather be horrible and make you feel bad because I'm antisocial"

"I love your company but wouldn't put in any effort to meet up if you don't and will let things be when you stop putting any effort",

"I know I'm being a terrible friend but you need to understand me and suck it up"

Be introverted and antisocial all you want, just don't expect anyone put up with your lack of effort all the time. Also don't complain when they give back the same energy.

[followthebluebell]

Can I ask you, as someone else who seems to be more of a cat guy, your experiences with Truffle? I’m considering a Spoo for my next dog and am trying to get a feel for whether or not one would work for me (and my cat guy spouse). I’m mostly wondering about energy levels because someone saying “moderate energy” or “high energy” doesn’t give me a whole of expectations as to how much and how intense exercise I’d be looking at to keep the dog satisfied which is important living in an apartment with a cat. I really like the trainability of the poodle and work in grooming so even if I didn’t want to do it myself, I have trusted people to do it for me so that’s no issue. I mainly want a companion I can take on hikes and to restaurants/brewpubs on the weekends who won’t eat my other pets. Just trying to gather as much perspective as possible before jumping in :)

Honestly I think spoos are the world's most perfect dog. I'm only a little biased in this absolute concrete fact. I'm not sure I could have any other breed of dog at this point.

I think Truffle is a medium energy dog. He's fairly active; we used to go on five mile hikes three days a week, but have since petered down to 1.5-2. On days we don't hike, we usually play fetch or flirt pole for like 30 minutes.

He also loves days where he does absolutely nothing, which really highlights my next point:

I don't think energy levels are as important in a dog as a good off switch is. Even if we've done absolutely nothing, Truffle won't tear up my house or try to eat my cats. I think a lot of this is just genetic, tbh. I looked specifically for breeders who titled their dogs for obedience and agility AND raised their dogs in their home because I wanted a dog that was smart, healthy, and had a good, solid basis for home living. A few dogs in Truffle's pedigree have hunting titles as well, but there's not really much of a delineation between hunting lines and show lines in poodles.

Mental exercise plays a much bigger role than physical exercise. We train daily for around 30-40 minutes--- I think that's a bigger requirement than just physical exercise. It's definitely something he's way more into and tends to tire him out more.

He's not a super cuddly dog. He likes to be BY me, but not ON me. This is great for me because I get touched-out easily, especially by a large dog. He's just unobtrusive, which was ideal for a service dog. He's not running around trying to be everyone's friend. He's just aloof towards strangers.

TBH the biggest issue I have with standard poodles is their tendency towards pickiness about food. Truffle's on a vet prescription diet due to stone formation and it can be a fucking pain to get him to eat sometimes. I've recently found a new hack (he really loves pumpkin) but I know in my heart that it's going to lose efficacy at some point and I'll have to try something new.

Like i said, I think he's the perfect dog for me. He's happy to go out on a hike and look for cool lizards, but he's equally happy to curl up on the couch and snooze as long as he also gets to do some trick training. He's very chill with the cats and treats strangers as a curiosity rather than a compulsion. He's a lovebug without being overly cuddly and needy.

[galaxytastes]

soft landings in cecilias

in which Kaeya is romanced, whether he likes it or not.

Hey friends, here is my fanfic for the Kaebedo Big Bang 2024! Please let me know if you enjoy. A beautiful artwork by @vanazealice was made for this too, which I will be linking. Enjoy!!

Words: 6104 Tags: Fluff, love confessions, first kiss, more fluff

VanazeAlice art on twt! https://x.com/VanazeAlice/status/1832435834353807802

The energy in Mondstadt city is always somewhat warm. As the beating heart of the nation of freedom, the bustling town presents itself as welcome to most, open to all. Like the statue that peeks over the walls that hug the jovial city, Barbatos and his hands cupped together, facing the sun; you are safe to land here, you are welcome to fly away. The entire premise of such a place strikes deeply with many residents. None more than Kaeya Alberich. Kaeya would not go as far as to call himself patriotic, by any means. Referring to himself as a Mondstadt civilian still feels like a long stretch, but it is days like this where the stretch between him and this place he is meant to call home feels a bit closer. That is mostly thanks to a certain charming alchemist and his pyromaniac of a sister.

Kaeya crosses one long leg over the other, leaning his weight onto his elbows behind him as he pretends not to desperately search for that certain other-former-outlander who will be joining him today. Like the picture of grace, he turns his tanned face up to the late morning sun and forces himself not to fidget with his gloves. 

“I hope you’re aware of how strange you look.”

The captain doesn’t move to look at his friend and instead glares at her from the corner of his eyes. Rosaria looks disgusted, her pale nose scrunched, and her lean arms crossed over her chest. He smirks and shakes his head, dismissive of her judgment.

“Oh, you hurt me, Rosaria. Though, I don’t think it is fair to call me strange when you are standing next to me, doing essentially the same thing.” Kaeya’s voice is a fabricated song; one of confidence and arrogance. One that speaks nothing of the anxious but excited swirling feeling in his stomach, like a waltzing whirlwind. She doesn’t humor his cheeky tone, instead rolling her rose-colored eyes. 

“I’m not the one posing on the bridge like the princess of Windblume. If the goal was to look natural, I’d give you a failing grade, Alberich.” Rosaria carefully hoists herself up onto the ridge, turning away towards the entrance of the bridge. So judgmental, so jealous! Kaeya tells himself that while chuckling at her teasing.

Without the forceful pressure of her piercing stare, Kaeya feels his shoulders relax a bit. Waiting for his friend, no, his date… It has proven to be a lot more nerve-wracking than the man expected. Kaeya has spent multiple Windblumes in the company of the chief alchemist, but never as anything more than co-workers. It took the two men years to settle on the term ‘friends’. Friends who visit each other weekly, who leave one another gifts or flowers. Friends who care for the young crimson knight together, taking her to the lake, to the mountain, to stargaze. Friends who steal glances from across the room, touch hands under the table… the definition of friends has been blurred beyond recognition at this point. 

Kaeya worries his lower lip as he recalls approaching Albedo after a knight’s meeting, hands stuffed into his pockets to hide his restless fidgeting. It was impulsive and took quite a bit of pacing back and forth the night before. He thought of every way it could go wrong, every last negative scenario. What if he laughs at me? What if he already has a date? Or worse, what if he actually says yes? Every bad outcome was better than the building, terrifying feeling of yearning that claws at his chest. When Kaeya finally found the courage and confidence to ask Albedo, the answer was so simple. “Yes.” The alchemist’s wide clear eyes blinked up at Kaeya, who had so kindly sat himself directly on the table in front of him. Such a simple answer to a question Kaeya had been thinking about for hours the night before. He asked once more, enunciating the word ‘date’ as if Albedo perhaps had missed it. Again, the simple yet pleasant answer was bounced right back at him. “Yes, Kaeya.”

A goofy smile plays on his lips as Kaeya leans further into the stone railing, thinking more about those bright, clear eyes and that logical but sweet tone. Oh, to admire himself in the reflection of those eyes… perhaps to even see him smiling back. 

“Kaeya?” 

“Hm?” The knight gives a soft hum, lost in his daydream of spring water eyes and rare alchemist smiles. 

“Kaeya.” Rosaria’s voice beside him rings out, both close yet still so far away. “I feel embarrassed for you now, this is ridiculous.” She sounds annoyed now. Well, again. She sounds annoyed again. Still jealous, perhaps? Kaeya finally pulls himself from his daydream and opens his mouth to chastise his friend but his jaw snaps shut when he finds himself gawking at the chief alchemist himself. Albedo gives him a little wave with his free hand, as his other hand is being occupied by the crimson knight herself who has been screaming his name for who knows how long. Kaeya chuckles and waves back, willing his heart to slow down. It's a date; just a date.

“Kaeya! Mr. Kaeya! It’s Klee! I’m here now!” The tiny knight shouts as she sprints away from her sibling, colliding into Kaeya’s legs. Before her little limbs can wrap around him to latch on, the man reaches down to scoop her up into his arms to give her a proper big hug. Klee erupts with giggles as she squeezes him tight, snuggling herself into the crook of his neck like a little cat. 

“My goodness, Klee, I take it you missed me?” Kaeya laughs as he pats the back of her hair. She pulls back, legs still tightly wrapped around him, nodding so hard that her big hat nearly flops off. “So much. Klee always misses Kaeya. You should never be busy! Never. Only busy with me!” Klee sings the last sentence while wiggling herself out of his hold to rush back to her brother’s side. Albedo sighs and shakes his head, his blonde bangs puffing up a bit from his forehead with the exhale. 

“I am saying this all the time, Klee. How dare Sir Kaeya have responsibilities outside of us, hm?” Finally, Albedo steps close enough so that Kaeya can properly greet him too. “Sorry to keep you waiting. It’s good to see you, captain.”

Kaeya swallows hard, quietly hoping the sound isn’t too loud or too obvious. This will be a long day. 

“Well, that's my cue to get the hell out of here.” Rosaria stands up straight and brushes the palms of her hands over her hips. She gives Kaeya a knowing look and bumps him softly with her elbow. “Try to keep it together, loverboy. I’ll see you around.” 

The tips of Kaeya’s ears burn and he rolls his eyes, shooing the woman off of him which earns him a chuckle from her. Rosaria turns and nods politely to Albedo and gives Klee a tiny wave goodbye before slipping into the passing crowd, scurrying off to hide somewhere quiet where she can lurk in peace. 

“Well. How about we head inside and enjoy the festivities together, yes?” Kaeya turns to his date and their mini-plus one, stretching out his arm in front of them to lead the way into the city. Klee jumps with excitement and shouts something about flowers before running ahead. He takes that as a yes. 

“Yes, please.” Albedo steps closer to Kaeya, so close he can feel his breath when he speaks the next words softer. “I’m ready to enjoy our date.”

Kaeya gawks while awkwardly trying to form a coherent response. He rarely finds himself at a loss for words, yet here he is; struck mute. Albedo smirks before he turns to follow his sister through the decorated gates. He takes a moment to stare ahead, eyes locked on the back of Albedo’s smug head. Kaeya is supposed to be the charming one, he’s supposed to be the one making others blush and stutter. Before he gets too lost in his thoughts, the red-cheeked knight trots after them, suppressing another goofy smile. 

Once he steps through the wide-open arch of Mondstadt, Kaeya can truly get a sense of Windblume. The man lets out a low whistle while he comes to a stop next to his date, resting a hand on his hip as he observes the beautiful view. The front entrance is lined with flower boxes, welcoming residents and visitors from afar. Teal and white ribbons hug around each box, matching the bows that adorn the many cecilia wreaths. Garlands of white flowers, accented with teal and soft blues, hang low and high over the entrance and into the main area of town. Kaeya once found all of this intimidating. He has always stuck out like a sore thumb; a weed amongst the cecilia blossoms. Always afraid of being uprooted from the bunch, he has made great effort to blend in with the others; but standing next to Albedo, it feels so much less intimidating. The blonde is gentle as he guides Klee to the flower stand, one hand secure on her back as the other one adjusts the hat on her head. He radiates an elegance and softness that is from somewhere far from Mondstadt, far from everything. Kaeya silently thanks Barbatos for letting weeds grow freely among the cecilias. 

“Albedo! We’re over here!” A familiar voice calls out from the other side of Flora’s stand. Kaeya and his companion turn to find Jean smiling brightly with Lisa at her side. The acting grandmaster waves her hand over her head, the slightest bit of concern in her eyes; as always. Meanwhile, Lisa twinkles her fingers with a curious look in her eyes, as leisurely as ever. Klee takes off like a startled crystal fly and launches herself at Jean, earning her giggles from everyone nearby watching. Kaeya winces and quickly strides to his coworker's side, apologetically reaching for his little knight companion. 

“Ah, hey! She’s in a really good mood today, I apologize for the ambush… Klee, you shouldn’t run off like that, silly.” Kaeya feels Albedo’s hand on his arm and his skin burns where his cool hand touches but he does his best to keep it together. 

Jean shakes her head and picks up Klee, hugging her to her side as Lisa giggles. Not understanding the laughs, Kaeya’s brows knit together, but Albedo quickly clears up any confusion. He squeezes Kaeya’s arm and he looks up at the taller man, eyes wide and bright as always. 

“Lisa and Jean offered to watch her for us. For our date. I thought it would be nice to have some time alone.” He speaks so matter of fact, Kaeya can’t help but grin. Suddenly, Lisa’s teasing stare makes a lot more sense. 

“Sorry, Klee, it looks like your brother wants to hog me all for himself. Such a selfish boy!” Kaeya teases as Albedo narrows his eyes at him. 

“You two have fun, you’ve both earned some time off. We’re gonna have fun today, right Klee!” Jean bounces Klee in her arms, jiggling another squeal of delight out of the girl. Albedo smiles fondly and reaches over to squeeze her little hand. Kaeya doesn’t miss the way his small smile strains as he speaks low to his sibling.

“Behave, Klee. For me, hm? Be a good girl for Master Jean and Miss Lisa.” The shorter man raises his eyebrows at Klee, a silent look of gentle authority, as he gives her hand one final squeeze. “No bombs, little miss.”

“You’re no fun…” Klee pouts and crosses her arms while Albedo tries and fails to hide a chuckle. “Go have fun, love birds. Us girls will have plenty of fun without you, I suggest you two go do the same.” Lisa says with another giggle and a tiny wave goodbye. Jean joins in the waving while she scolds her companion with a hiss as she hands Klee off to her. 

With Klee gone, the reality of the situation slowly starts to hit Kaeya. Not only is he now alone with Albedo, he is intentionally alone with him. This is nothing like their work meetings, where they always end up sitting side by side. It is nothing like the times they’ve passed each other during perimeter survey in Dragonspine. All those times, Kaeya could pretend his interest in the other was simply platonic. Just coworkers, maybe friends, never more. Yet, here he stands just inches away from the blonde, and not even he could lie about his interest. As if Albedo can read his mind or sense his overthinking, he reaches over to take hold of Kaeya’s arm. With all the charm of a practiced flirt, the shorter man links his arm to Kaeya’s and tugs him forward. Kaeya’s eye widens and then crinkles with a smile as he lets the other drag him along. 

“You’re right, you know.” Albedo is looking forward, leading them up the wide stairs of town. It’s hard for Kaeya to look anywhere other than at Albedo, so he finds himself grateful for the other taking the lead. Kaeya’s head tilts and he raises an eyebrow at the alchemist's statement. 

“I mean, I try to be, but may I ask what I am right about this time?” He inquires as he studies Albedo’s perfect profile as they continue walking through the crowd. 

“About my being selfish.” So matter of fact, spoken as if it should have been obvious. “Hm?” 

“I find myself feeling very selfish with you, captain. I’m grateful to finally have your full attention.” Albedo is unphased in his confession. A portrait of composure, he walks closer to the refreshment tables, skillfully weaving them through the heavier crowd. Kaeya can’t withhold the small noise of shock that escapes him, pleasantly surprised by Albedo’s admission. He clears his throat and chuckles, teasingly squeezing his date’s arm. It is almost embarrassing how much Albedo can fluster him without even trying, and he does his best to sweep it away behind his charming facade. 

“My, my, has the festivities emboldened you, Albedo?” A perfectly placed dashing smile paired with a wink, his voice a scripted purr. The alchemist shares no reaction, an unreadable expression painting his face. Something bristles in Kaeya, an ever-persistent need to have the last word of flirtation. “In any case, my attention is yours to possess. Y-” 

Kaeya is abruptly cut off by his distraction, slamming directly into a wall of a man. A cloud of red puffs around his face while strong hands grasp his free arm to keep him from falling. The captain sputters and takes an unsteady step back before meeting a very familiar crimson glare.

“Kaeya, are you alright…?” Albedo’s voice rings with a bit of concern, large blue eyes darting between the siblings. 

“Archons, are you drunk already?” Diluc rolls his eyes and brushes his gloved hands down his vest. His massive ponytail is adjusted, fingers deftly tightening the clasp, as Kaeya chuckles. He flashes a grin at his brother, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

“Diluc, my apologies. I was… distracted!” He smiles and reaches over to pat his brother’s shoulder. His touch is quickly brushed off, Diluc grumbling and already turning back to the table filled with wine glasses and grape juice to get back to work.

“Do us all a favor and get your head out of the clouds when walking through a crowded festival, Kaeya.” The redhead nags, crossing his arms over his chest to shoot his brother another glare. His bright eyes flash to his date, widening as realization dawns on him. 

“Oh… Mister Albedo, pardon my crude greeting. It’s good to see you. I heard you would be coming with Kaeya, I wondered if you’d actually go through with it. I pray he is not giving you too much trouble.” Diluc smiles politely at the blonde as Kaeya makes a sound of annoyance. Something strange stirs in his chest as he watches his brother shake hands and make small talk with his date. It’s all so domestic and strange. It makes the tips of his ears burn as he sidesteps the table to steal a glass, wishing the blush to fade before it is commented on. The wine all but disappears with one swift movement, a pleasant yet warm burning down his throat. Maybe alcohol will kill the crystalflies in his stomach…

“Kaeya seems to have helped himself, but would you like a glass of wine, Albedo? No charge.” Diluc delicately offers the glass to the other man with a soft grin.

“I’ll pass on the drink, but thank you, Diluc.” Albedo shakes his head at the offering, gliding back to Kaeya’s side. Kaeya opens his mouth to make a joke about drinking the second glass for him, but he’s beaten to the punchline by a swirl of wind.

“I’ll take care of that, thank you!” A sing-song voice twinkles as a dainty hand snatches the glass from Diluc. “Would be rude to let another drink go to waste!” As if he had been there the whole time, the bard wiggles himself onto the table next to the redhead as he chugs the drink with a loud gulp. Diluc’s nose scrunches and he tugs Venti off the table, snatching the empty glass back with a grunt. Kaeya laughs and Albedo even chuckles a bit as they watch the two men bicker like an old married couple and nag over the appropriate amount of wine to drink at a festival.

Venti waves his hands in front of his face, shoving away from Diluc’s aggravated grasp. With a twirl, he props himself up onto the chair behind the drink table. His lyre is propped on his hip and he clears his throat before looking back to Kaeya.

“You two go have fun, don’t worry about this sour puss.” Despite his slurred voice, his hands deftly begin to strum the instrument, filling the town square with joyful music. “If I make myself useful, he can’t nag at me!” Diluc huffs in surrender, leaning next to the bard. As Venti begins to sing, Kaeya shakes his head and turns his attention to the people around them. 

Couples already begin to shuffle into the square, standing in front of each other with their hands clasped together. Each pair begins to twirl, with smiles and laughter and singing. The sight used to fill Kaeya with bitterness. How embarrassing to do that in front of everyone. How shameful! Sure, he’d participated in plenty of drunken dances with lovely ladies and gentlemen, but it was never anything special or genuine. No eye contact, just practiced movements to get whatever he wanted, whether that was more drink, information, or a distraction in the form of physical touch. 

Everything was very different now, though. Very different. 

“You’re lost in your head again.” The alchemist speaks very matter-of-factly, as always. He’s right and Kaeya felt no need to lie and correct him. Instead, he looks to Albedo and gasps, realizing the other has been staring at him this whole time. 

“You… confuse me.” Kaeya sighs and laughs, tilting his head as he attempts to decipher that unreadable expression once more. Before he can come up with any answers, Albedo moves in front of him and gently outstretches his hand with a soft smile. 

“Huh? Do you… need a drink?” The cavalry captain cocks a brow, confused by the sudden request. “Or maybe you’re hungry?” 

The blonde at first does not answer with words, silently stepping closer to reach for Kaeya’s hand. He holds it in his, brushing a thumb over the back of his glove as he tugs it a bit closer. The crystal flies have now become hurricanes as Kaeya’s mouth hangs open in a flustered O.

“Dance with me, captain, won’t you?” The statement is framed with a question, as if the offering is held at arms reach… always ensuring the other knows he has a way out. The taller man flusters a moment more, but he harnesses that charmer facade once again. He grips Albedo’s hand and it’s his turn to tug, yanking the smaller man so they are chest to chest. His chest rumbles with a laugh, almost like a purr.

“So selfish with me still? Need an excuse to touch me, chief alchemist?” Kaeya giggles as Albedo rolls his eyes, dragging them both into the crowd of people. “I told you already, Albedo. I am yours today, all yours. Whatever you want-”

“You talk too much.” Albedo sighs as a slender yet strong arm snakes around his waist. His other hand cups Kaeya’s and he hugs the man tight, squeezing a surprised noise out of the taller man. Floundering like a fish out of water, Kaeya is not even given a moment to retort or blab on some other flirty remark. His feet move without him as he is led in a dance to the bard’s beautiful music. 

Now this… this has not happened before. This is strange. Kaeya is the one who flusters others, Kaeya is the one who does the swooning. Kaeya is the one who leads the dance, always three steps ahead. Yet, here he stumbles one step behind. Here he swoons as he allows another to move them; one, two, three steps this way, one twirl that way. The alchemist is careful in his movements, leading Kaeya without breaking his crushing eye contact. It’s suffocating almost, as he feels like he is being compressed into nothing under Albedo’s gaze. It’s thrilling. He is thrilling.

The song continues as the two dance, a romantic and joyful tune that swirls through the air and between the couple. When Kaeya almost trips or stumbles, Albedo’s hold tightens around his trim waist. His cheeks burn and his head swirls with confusion as the song reaches its crescendo. With a wide eye and a sound that can only be compared to a wheeze, Kaeya feels Albedo grip him a little tighter before swirling him deep to the side, leaning down over him with a dip. Despite the height difference the two share, Kaeya feels absolutely swallowed by Albedo’s presence as he cradles him, delicately raising his knuckles to his lips. With the softness of a gentle breeze, the alchemist presses a kiss to his hand. All he can do is stare as he holds that crystalline gaze. 

As quickly as it began, the song was over. Kaeya blinks, completely thrown off his usual fluid and easy-going ways. Albedo is smiling sweetly as he gives the other a polite bow to thank him for the dance. Kaeya shakes his head as he chuckles before reciprocating the gesture.

“You continue to surprise me, sir. I can’t recall ever being so… out of sorts over a date.” Kaeya leans close to speak low to his companion, not quite noticing the twinkle in the other’s eyes as he listens to the admission. Albedo hums and laces their arms together once more as he leads them away from the crowds. 

“I told you, I feel selfish with you.” His monotonous tone softens when he continues, leading them to a nearby bench decorated with more flowers. “It’s rare I’m given time to have you all to myself. I’m determined to make the most of every moment. I am not one to be wasteful.” 

Spoken so effortlessly, without any hesitation to hide his affection or interest. He sounds almost honest. Albedo has always been a confusing mystery to everyone in Mondstadt but to no one more than Kaeya. It’s baffling how someone so seemingly introverted can be so confident in his actions. It’s captivating, but it was not what was planned or expected. Kaeya’s teeth worry at his lips, falling deep into thought once more. Here he was, stupidly confident that he would be the one swooning Albedo off his feet; that he could use this chance to step out of his false arrogance facade. Yet, he has been beaten to the punch every time. His cloud of thought is interrupted again by Albedo, this time with his hand gripping his own. 

“My apologies, I’m just-”

“Lost in your thoughts again?” Albedo teases, giving his hand another soft squeeze. Kaeya rolls his eye but gives a squeeze back.

“How did you guess? Hah, I just… I want to make sure I’m doing all of this right.” His usual smooth tone is a bit unsteady and nervous.

“Hm? What do you mean, ‘right’?”

The taller man’s voice is vulnerable, it's sincere when he speaks. “I keep getting flustered or stuck in my thoughts… you bring out a different side of me.” A more genuine side. A fearful side. A side he has not yet experienced. 

The blonde nods, focusing on where their hands meet as his expression cracks a bit, showing some concern. Albedo opens his mouth, but this time, it is Kaeya who interrupts him.

“I like it. I really like it.” I really like you. The confession aches at the back of his throat, desperate to come out. Instead, he clears his throat and scans the area through the crowds. If he was going to be making any kind of significant confession, it should be somewhere better than a bench in such a public place. 

Both men watch as the sun nears the horizon, setting the sky ablaze with an orange glow. The water around Mondstadt reflects the colors, creating a perfect reflection of the skyline over the lake. Couples on boats snuggle close together, rowing out into the middle, creating speckles over the water like dark stars. It’s beautiful. 

It’s perfect…!

“I’ve got it, ha! I haven’t lost my charm, no sir.” Kaeya stands quickly from the bench, tugging Albedo’s arm with him down towards the docks. The alchemist gawks at Kaeya’s outspoken thoughts, but a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips as they trot down to the shore. A gentleman stands near the boats and greets them with a smile as Kaeya approaches.

“My good sir, would you be so kind as to lend me and my lover one of your fine boats?” The captain can feel Albedo’s deadpan stare on the back of his head and it makes him smile brighter.

“Of course, right this way.” The man gestures to a boat and helps them off the dock, careful to place the oars into Kaeya’s hands before waving them off. The shorter man wiggles into his seat in front of Kaeya, their knees grazing over one another as he paddles farther into the water.

“I didn’t know you were a seafarer, Kaeya. Did my flirtations drive you to send me overboard?” Albedo holds his hands politely in his lap as he watches the water. Kaeya laughs as he rows farther into the water. The sky has darkened, now a deep magenta bleeding into blood orange. He wants to admire the sky as they move farther into the lake, but Kaeya can’t help but stare at the vision in front of him. 

“Nothing so malicious, pretty boy.” Albedo raises a brow when the captain pauses to gather courage. Gently, Kaeya stores the oars beside their feet and scoots a bit closer. Each movement is slow and careful he reaches for Albedo’s hands and he smiles as his touch is eagerly reciprocated. It's all so strange and new… exciting. The crystal flies have begun swarming now.

“Bedo, this whole day, I’ve been telling myself I would take my chance to be selfish with you. Yet, I kept finding myself stuttering and tripping over my thoughts with you.” A big exhale leaves him before he keeps speaking. Kaeya navigates his thoughts, careful to slow them down so that he does not let them all spill out like water from a beaver's dam. 

“I haven’t had something like… this. All my experience with relationships and romance is fast and messy, nothing with actual feeling or genuine intrigue. I’d even go as far as to call it all very boring.” His gloved hand reaches forward and tenderly grasps Albedo’s, his thumb tracing a soft shape over the flawless skin. The blonde lets out a puff of hair from his nose, something akin to a laugh. 

“Boring? Is this the part where you tell me how boring I am too?” Albedo’s tone is lighthearted and playful, both of them leaning closer to each other without realizing it. 

“Quite the opposite.” Kaeya nervously chuckles, unable to look away from the other’s face. “You are impossibly intriguing. It's terrifying… in a good way, I think.” It feels so good, it is dangerous. “I have yet to meet someone so much like me, yet not at all like me. You seem to understand me without me having to even explain. You know I’m different, I know you do. Yet, you look at me like I’m something… worthwhile. Like I am… deserving. Perhaps we are the same kind of different.”

Those striking bright eyes are no longer strangling him, they are drowning him. Liquid blue reflecting pink and orange, so alive yet uncanny and inhumanely perfect. Eyes so open, wide, and enchanting, he finds himself tempted to rip off his eyepatch to get lost in them further, without any obstruction. Unconsciously, he begins to lean even closer, moving a hand to Albedo’s knee to ground himself. This time, it is Albedo’s turn to be speechless. The shorter man blinks up and nods, encouraging Kaeya to continue. When he speaks, it is barely a whisper. The soft words are spoken just between them, in their own little world floating above the lake under the setting sun.  

“You are more than intriguing, my alchemist. You are captivating. I find myself quite taken with you.” Kaeya’s ears burn along with his cheeks, but he makes no move to stop. The confession is so foreign on his tongue, that he is committed to savoring every moment of it. “The time spent with you and Klee is when I feel most at ease. The only time I don’t feel so… out of place. I know I can be a lot to handle, I am quite self-aware. You can also just… I don’t know, shove me out of the boat and row back-”

Before any more anxious and ridiculous words can tumble out of him, Albedo is kissing him. His refreshingly cool palm cups the knight’s cheek, holding his face so gingerly as if he is made of glass. Fireworks erupt from the back of Kaeya’s throat down to his chest and land in his stomach, setting the crystal flies aflame. Every inch of him tingles with exciting and terrifying emotions, his heart slamming in his chest as he kisses the man back. The kiss is impatient and inexperienced at first, with Albedo again leading Kaeya into a dreamy dance between their lips. 

“You talk too much.” Albedo mumbles against his lover’s eager lips before going back in for more, tilting his head to taste even more of him. The knight smiles into the kiss, one hand coming around the back of Albedo’s head to cup the nape of his neck as the other finds his narrow waist, pulling him even closer. He tastes of mint, black tea, and the colors of the sunset. He tastes like life and second chances and home. He tastes of belonging, family, and freedom. Kaeya’s chest aches for every moment they wasted not kissing as he nearly presses himself under the other man. Hungry lips move from the other’s mouth to his throat and he grins when he hears the hitch in Albedo’s breathing as he grazes his lips over the star marking on Albedo’s throat. Kaeya chuckles and places a chaste kiss there before pulling back to catch his breath. 

“I… take it that you feel the same?” His swollen lips form a stupid grin when he questions Albedo, earning him another teasing glare before the two erupt into flustered yet breathless giggles. The blonde nods and adjusts himself back in his seat as Kaeya grabs the oars to get them back to shore. “Yes, idiot captain. To say I feel the same is an understatement.” His bright eyes gleam with an excited shine and Kaeya can feel the blush reach his throat. This man will be the death of him. The knight holds Albedo’s intense gaze and tilts his head a bit to the side in thought. 

“So… What happens now? What do I call you? ‘More than coworkers’?” Kaeya taps his chin, as if deep in thought while Albedo groans with affectionate frustration. 

“Certainly more than coworkers, but… let us forgo any labels, for the time being. This is all new to me too. Very new… I’d prefer we take this one day at a time.” Kaeya grins with a nod, grateful to be on the same page as his ‘more than coworker’.

As they row back to shore, the two share sweet and silly conversation about how long they have both felt this way. The alchemist laughs too loud when Kaeya admits to having dreams about him, but when Albedo confesses he felt something spark the moment they met, Kaeya nearly falls out of the boat. They decide to save any other confessions for dry land to prevent clumsy cryo users from freezing the boat into the lake. 

The rest of the night ends much too fast and the festival comes to an end, all the couples sharing goodnight kisses and sweet dreams as they make their way back home. Kaeya’s arm is draped comfortably around Albedo’s shoulders as they walk back to the knight’s headquarters. The knight wishes the clock would stop spinning so they could sit in this moment, arm around his special one as stars twinkle above. It all feels so unreal and undeserving that he wants to pinch himself, but instead, he presses Albedo closer to his side. 

When they reach the entrance of the knight’s quarters, Albedo is quick to look around to ensure their privacy before standing on his tiptoes to pull Kaeya back in for one more chaste goodnight kiss. A sound of pleased contentment leaves the taller man as he pulls him back in for one more kiss before letting him go, his hand lingering on the other’s cheek.

“I’m afraid you’re going to get tired of how often you’re going to see me from now on, dearest Albedo.” Kaeya smiles when Albedo laughs, shaking his head so his blonde hair falls over his bright eyes. 

“I’m afraid I’ll be expecting you back at my door, first thing in the morning before rounds with Jean.” The blonde wiggles his brows and turns back to the door with a grin. “Goodnight, Kaeya. Sleep well.”

“Sweet dreams, Bedo. Dream of me, won’t you?” Kaeya winks and earns another eye roll from his lover as the door shuts. In the silence of the night, the dark-haired knight permits himself the cheesy reaction of pressing his back to the door, hands over his burning face. Archons above.

“Oh, don’t make me vomit.” A familiar voice groans as heels step closer and a cold hand grips his shoulder. “Get up before I kick you, lover boy.” Rosaria smiles widely down at Kaeya who swats her hand away, hoisting himself back up to his feet. She raises a brow with a hand on her hip, her dark hair spilling over her shoulder. 

“Shut up.” Kaeya gently shoves her with his elbow as she continues teasing her friend. “Why don’t you ever ask me to dream about you, Kaeya? Am I not short enough?” Rosaria sighs theatrically and puts on a fake pout as she begins to lead them back to their usual hangout. “I need a drink so bad, shut up.” He groans and follows her, still unable to shake the goofy smile off his face. Rosaria chuckles and throws a strong arm over her friend’s shoulders, tugging him down the road toward the Angel’s Share. 

“Alright, alright… I’ll be quiet and you’re going to tell me every disgusting detail of your day, even if I throw up. Go.” 

As the evening comes to an end, Kaeya begins his retelling of his Windblume experience. With the backing vocals of a drunken bard and a nagging bartender, the outlander from a nation long forgotten feels as free as ever; the outlander who once found only bitterness in such festivities. The outlander who will let himself be loved by one who can understand.

[nishayuro]

I don’t know if you still take requests (especially for Stanley) but I’m a very thirsty girl and I miss my men (and I really like your writing) so I ask anyway!

So, if possible, can I have the fluffiest of fluff ? Like the more tooth rotting stuff you can think about that men ? I’ve been having specially hard days and I’d love to have some comfort.

Thanks a lot even for just reading this ! <3

Dr. Stone Stanley Snyder Fluff Headcanons

A/N: Hii! I’m so sorry this took so long T.T I saw this request back then and just started daydreaming but didn’t have energy to write. But here it is!!! I too, miss my man sooooo much

Genre: FLUFF AS FUCK

Warning: You’ll get cavities

GN!Reader

Stanley is an extremely loyal boyfriend. He’s in the military, he knows loyalty by heart. 

During his downtime in the military, he comes home to you and takes you on lots of dates

Be it indoors or outdoors, he’s got you covered

I feel like Stan is the type to bring you to a laser tag arena or an airsoft arena. He wants you to experience what a “battlefield” feels like. (He will let you win because the smile and laugh you make is enough of a win for him) 

He’s paid GOOD money, being a marine commander for an elite force, he’s the type to spoil you rotten. You want a new wardrobe? Go use his card. Want a new gadget, you already know his pin. Want to go dine at an expensive restaurant, you know where his card is. He will give you everything you want. 

I think Stanley LOVES cuddles, he’s away a lot and is rarely with you, so for the times that he is, he will just lay in bed with you in his arms as you both talk about everything you two wanna talk about.

Stanley is someone who will listen to everything you say, his attention to detail and memory is so good. You mentioned this one thing in passing and you’re shocked when he brings it up months later. 

If you’re not comfortable with his smoking, he won’t smoke when with you. He’s addicted to it, sure, but he won’t risk getting you sick. If he really needs to, he might use chewing tobacco instead. 

I think you both would get a matching tattoo together. It would be something you both designed and is meaningful to you both. 

Whenever he’s on his break, he will take you travelling for vacation. 

He’ll take you to beaches, resorts, tourist spots, and to other perfect vacation places. 

You have definitely met Xeno, Stanley introduced you to his childhood friend when he was sure that he was serious with your relationship. You would get along really well with Xeno and you both tease Stanley a lot.

Stanley would be down to wear matching outfits! You both slay so much.

We all know how attractive Stanley is, and he knows it as well. 

There will be times when someone would come up to him and flirt, he will tell them that he is in a committed relationship or will just straight up ignore them.

One time someone was getting really annoying with their flirting while you and Stanley were on a date and you went to use the bathroom. 

As soon as you arrived, he wasted no time to pull you into a deep kiss in front of the other person, making them go away from embarrassment. 

Speaking of kissing, Stanley loves kissing you! 

Be it small pecks or straight out make out sessions

Stanley also really likes skinship, mostly in private. But he doesn’t have a problem with some PDA.

Whenever he’s deployed overseas, he regularly messages and calls or video calls you whenever he has time or has access to his phone. 

He loves when you fall asleep on call with one another

Or when he’s getting ready while you fall asleep and vice versa

Overall, Stanley knows that he’s not present a lot and he wishes he could be with you more. But he loves you so much and he’s dead set to prove that to you in anyway he can. 

“C’mon babe, the movie is gonna start!” You pulled him towards the cinema, popcorn in hand and his hand in the other. “Alright love, chill. You might trip.” He replies, slowing you down. You both got in your seats and waited for the advertisements to end. You would both whisper to each other during the movie, commenting about the scenes quiet enough to not disturb the others. When the movie ended and the lights turned on, Stanley turned towards you. “You have something there” He said, pointing near your lip. “Huh?” you asked, wiping at said place. “Let me.” he said, surprising you as he leaned in and gave you a kiss on the lips while holding your chin, pulling back with a smirk on his face as he got up. “Oi! Stann, what was that for?!” you exclaimed, blood pooling to your cheeks from being flustered. “Nothin’, you were just being cute.” he answered with a smile. He took your hand in his and led you both out of the cinema. As you were walking back to the parking lot, you decided to surprise him yourself. “I love you, Stanley.” You said, looking at him and squeezing your intertwined hands. His eyes widened, ears and cheeks a light shade of pink, “heh, I love you more, y/n.” He answered back with a smile.

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[buggknife]

if you’re taking pride asks, 2, 3, 12 + eran?

THANK YOUU <3 (asks)

2. What's your oc's orientation? (Romantic/sexual/platonic alterous ect) Do they have opinions about it? He’s asexual, and has no interest in any of that business whatsoever. I wouldn’t say he’s repulsed per se, but it’s definitely not something he would ever go out of his way to experience by any means. I’d say he’s biromantic, if I had to name it, but his understanding of romance is not really super ‘conventional’ especially given the time period. Very big ‘they seem to be good friends’ kind of energy.

3. How did your oc discover themself? Did something cause them to question, or did they always know? Tbh I’d be hesitant to say he has even now? Bro’s a middle aged dude at the turn of the 20th century and while I think he’s confident in who/what he is it’s also not something he gives a lot of conscious thought to. That line between ‘close friend you share a strong bond with’ and ‘maybe something else’ is not clear and he’s quick to write it off as something you just don’t talk about. I like to imagine there’s a sort of ah-ha lightbulb moment but it’s not something I have really pinned down in writing yet :p

12. Does/did your oc ever wish they could change the way they are? Why? If it's in the past, how did they get over the feeling? (this can be about internalized homo/transphobia) Of all the things Eran agonizes over, orientation/gender aren’t on that list, at least consciously. I think he’s definitely subjected to attitudes of the time in ways he might not recognise, consciously, despite considering himself progressive and generally good at reflecting that through his actions. If I were to reach he might be wary of relationships because that tends to come with the expectation of a degree of physical intimacy he’s not prepared to provide and doesn’t want to.

[lotus-pear]

rip to your inbox for all these genshin x bsd ask BUT

Chuuya & xiao parallels are too real!! Dead friends? Check. Struggled with their humanity? Check. Totes loses HP during burst (corruption and very xiao based lamo) I always saw him as either polearm or catalyst (heizou-esque due to him being top marital artist) I can’t decide whether pyro or anemo so anemo vision but pyro delusion

And agree that Dazai would be cryo but either catalyst or bow (gun as weapon like clorinde!!) dazai definitely buffs the team and his burst is high attack but he loses hp / affects the whole team;

Akutagawa is a bow! He’s sooo squishy!! Has health draining mechanics when using burst; Electro maybe? And I’m thinking of venti burst or yoimiya skill.

Atsushi is claymore, big heavy attacks, geo? Has a minor healing mechanic and a cute little tiger that attacks (like Itto’s ushi hehe)

You’re so right that Kunikida is dendro!! A sword user for sure! You have to have specific em energy requirements to use him properly and he has his own artifact set that doesn’t mesh well for any other character lol

Also obvious yosano is kokomi; op healing, but I’m also thinking of after you’re healed to a certain percentage you get buffed attacks (like Bennett)

Okokok I’m done butttt lotus ur r amazing and your takes are soo good

chuuya would be anemo simply bc he’s a short guy w dead friends there’s literally no other reason /JJJ

anemo represents redemption and new beginnings, spirits whose souls are windswept and carefree and true to their heart. anemo is a symbol of individualism, telling its holders that their past does not define who they are and they are free to choose their own path in life. i feel anemo is very befitting of chuuya when you consider the actual symbolism of an anemo vision. and then there’s the whole gravity manipulation thing so air and wind and sky which is obvious enough

I RLY LIKE THE FACT THAT YOU BROUGHT UP THAT ATSUSHI CAN HEAL I THINK A LOT OF PPL FORGET THE TIGER IS AN ATK UNIT BUT IS ALSO CAPABLE OF RESTORATION. atsushi would be the most one of the most formidable dps in the game

i’d say kuni is a catalyst just bc of his notebook i literally cannot see him w any other weapon i’m sry i feel like since he’d be a physical sub dps or even a battery bc his ability is combat based but also provides a very useful support which could be translated to energy recharge ingame.. also dying on the hill he’d have his own artifact set since he’s so versatile

also you’re so right for yosano i feel like the lower the enemies hp is the more effective the healing bonus is

[ciaossu-imagines]

Hiii ! How are you ?

What kind of person do you think Benzai from Kproject is ?

If you still take asks, what would he look for in a partner ?

Have a good day !

Well hello there, my lovely anon! I definitely did still take asks at the time this was sent in, though my ask box is currently temporarily closed while I write the existing requests (or at least enough of them to feel okay about opening up my ask box again)! Thanks so much for sending in a request, especially for such an underloved character, and I hope you’ll enjoy the headcanons!

I think the thing to tackle first out of this request is really just who Benzai is, as a person. We don’t get to see a lot of him in canon, and what we do see of him is someone who is quite capable but also very quiet.

And I do think that both of those things are definitely key parts of who he is. Benzai was a quiet child, who grew into a quiet teenager and then a quiet adult. He’s not shy, contrary to what others might assume. He’s got very little against socializing, as a rule, and he’s not retiring and unsure about speaking to others. He’s just naturally a very quiet person.

Benzai isn’t someone who is afraid of peace and quiet. He rather enjoys it, in fact. To him, a lot of the silence that others consider as being awkward isn’t at all. He doesn’t get the point of chattering just to fill the air with noise, even when the conversations have no point. When he does tend to talk, it’s normally because he does have something to say, something he wants to discuss, or because he’s among friends or people he wants to get to know better.

I do also think that Benzai does tend to be a little reserved, leading even more to the assumption that he’s shy or even that he’s quite cold. Neither of those things are true in any way. It’s just that he doesn’t believe that most people need to know the private details of his life, especially before he gets to know them well. On top of that, because Benzai is someone who does value politeness, he’s always thinking very carefully about what is proper to talk about and the things he would rather keep to himself instead of talking about them and possibly coming across as rude or offensive.

When he is with friends and people he trusts well, Benzai can have periods where he is more talkative than normal and he’s definitely more open, though he’s never what you would call a chatterbox by any means.

Another part of Benzai I’d like to focus on is that the man is both very responsible and very reliable. He feels like he has a duty – it’s why he went into the military and I do believe his upbringing was a bit of a strict one, where responsibility for things and other people was drilled into him. We know he has a niece, so he does have siblings, and I see him as the oldest of his siblings, where taking care of the younger ones and providing a good example was carefully trained in him.

Because he is someone who is so dutiful and responsible, I don’t think dating and romance is a priority for him, not at that point. Is it something he would like? Yes, but not necessarily a priority, especially as he doesn’t feel like he has the time for it. When he has the time and extra energy to devote to properly dating, he is someone that I feel would be rather selective about the people he chooses to date. He doesn’t have super-high standards and he isn’t a high maintenance partner, but there are definitely things he will not compromise on.

He does want a partner who is more on the calm side. Because of who he is, someone who is super high-energy, who yaps his ear off all the time, who is talkative and chattery would wear him out. He wants someone to match his energy and expand on it a bit. He has a lot of respect for people who don’t rush into relationships, who spend their time getting to know him for who he is before wanting to move things forward, because to him, it’s a sign that they, like himself, are really putting in the effort to figure out if there’s even anything there besides initial attraction and chemistry.

He insists on shared morals and values, and at least one shared interest.

He’s dating for the long-term, after all. He’s not a short fling kind of guy.

Benzai is a very respectful man. He’s going to give his partner their space, he wouldn’t dream of flirting with others while with them, he encourages their interests, supports them, and makes time for them while understanding they have a life, friends, family, and things outside of him. He puts effort into romancing them and into being a good partner and he insists on his partner matching his energy in that way too. He doesn’t want a taker, who never gives him attention and love and effort or does it super rarely, but he also doesn’t want a co-dependent partner who makes him their entire life.

I will say that the one thing I think Benzai hates the most is unnecessary drama and gossip. The first signs of this in a partner would make him cut the relationship short, knowing that it’s very much an incompatibility that he would not be able to compromise over.

[akirqx]

she/her + romantic

none!

someone extroverted, friendly/outgoing, smart!!, isn’t afraid to show me off or express himself, and taller than me!!!! also guys who are protective over me but not controlling. they have to have good humor and can take a joke. someone who can have a little playful competition, and doesn’t care abt being seen as clingy and just wants to express their love.

i’m really talkative, and i love trying and learning new things. i’m pretty smart, i take a lot of APs and school takes up a lot of my time, but i love going out with my friends and i hate studying 😭. even tho i talk a lot, i get really scared when i talk to someone i’m interested in for the first time. i love shopping, and i play softball competitively, but i enjoy other sports like tennis and volleyball just for fun (even tho i lwk suck LMFAO). i’m also a photographer, i do mostly sports photography, and i love flowers!

giving: acts of service and gift giving. receiving: quality time and acts of service

friends to lovers or strangers to lovers

i’m 5’3-5’4, and i’m filipino. i have long dark brown hair and my style switches between abg and stockholm and i wear glasses!

extras: an ideal date would be a festival/amusement park or a day at the beach. i LOVEEE those little photobooth pics. my favorite flowers are pink stargazer lilies.

thank you so so much and i hope you have an amazing day!!

(there was an error when i tried sending this the first time, so if it happened to send twice im so sorry 😭🙏🏻)

Oikawa Tooru definitely noticed you first. I feel like he took interest in your photography and approached you about it! (..strangers to lovers?🤭)

I think I’d be such a cute interaction if he saw you taking a photo of some flowers and then came up to you to recommend a better place for the picture.

We all know he has fangirls and is super focused on volleyball but I feel like once he noticed you that one time, he started seeing you everywhere

He thinks he’s so smooth asking you to come to his next game to take some cool shots of him

If you actually say yes and show up he gets all nervous and asks iwaizumi if he looks good today (he knows he does)

I feel like because he spends so much time on volleyball, he makes sure whenever he hangs out with you that you know he loves you, he def doesn’t care about looking clingy.

Always makes sure to show you off so people know he’s taken

Is also super smart!! Power couple fr

He’d probably make fun of u for being bad at volleyball as a playful joke but will take pride in teaching you (if u want!)

Oh my god if u ever got shy around this man his ego will skyrocket 😭

When you guys go to amusement parks together he pretends to not be scared but is the loudest one on the ride

And then if you bring it up after he pretends he wasn’t scared

I feel like he’d say he’s really good at winning those prizes but he actually sucks and you spend a good 15 minutes waiting for him to actually get something

Would def love taking pictures with you! Especially those photo booth ones :) probably keeps one in his phone case

He buys you one of those big bouquets for your first date and it’s mostly your fav flowers

I feel like he’d steal ur glasses right off of ur face and puts them on just to tease about how bad ur vision is (even if it’s not that bad)

He loves all of your gifts omg he’s so dramatic when you give him something

He will go shopping with you and he will take it seriously when you ask for his opinion on clothes or smtg

He’s always matching your energy and I feel like you guys always have good conversations like there’s never nothing to talk about

He’s also competitive so you guys make plenty of little competitions out of literally anything

It can get really chaotic sometimes..

And he always cheers you on at ur softball games!! He brags about you to anyone who will listen

omg this one was soo fun to write I really hope you like it !!🫶🏻 Oikawa was literally the first person who came to mind when I read yours so I hope you like him…😭

Thank you for requesting!

[littleshysheep-at-da]

Hello, I like your art can you share some Sasajima Kyouya/Wrath headcanons? He’s my favourite character.

OHMYGOSH THANK YOU SO MUCH???

*cracks knuckles* YOU’VE COME TO THE RIGHT PLACE. Honestly he’s my Favorite too! A decent of my Headcanons for him revolve around my OT3 or the Demon Army Family so here we go!

This may contain vague Spoilers and I may edit this for grammar or to add more details…

Honestly consider this part 1 because if you ask again later I’d probably have even more written down lol.

(I’m ripping this from my KumoDesu Fanfic ideas Doc so if some of the wording is wonky that’s why btw THERE’S A LOT)

To start I’ve def said this before here: Things to note I’m obsessed with my headcannon of Shun x Katia x Kyouya as an OT3 and there is zero content but I have a million ideas but no energy. Also you can rip the headcannon of the demon army as family with Ariel x Shiraoi as the parents to Mera, Sophia, and Kyouya (and YES I have a long winded modern and other AUs shut up) from my cold dead hands.

Shiro and Kyouya Mother-Son: The Labyrinth and the Mountains are probably the 2 harshest environments in the world. So I like to think that because of growing up in these environments Shiro and Kyouya both have some weird but similar values. I’ve always kinda seen them very much as Mother and Son. The Labyrinth was harsher so she has some more insane survival methods and he sort of looks up to it. (Side note: I know some people Ship them and I never want to throw discourse, you’re allowed to ship whatever you want so don’t want to say much, but personally I hate it very much I could go into why but it’s mostly my character reads and taste). Ariel and Shiro give off so many Mom vibes when it comes to Mera, Kyouya, and Sophia to me lol (and yes they would be siblings in that order I don’t remember where but I think the LN said Goblins have shorter pregnancies so Kyouya is slightly older than Sophia lol). Sophia especially with Kyouya reads as the “no one is allowed to bully my Brother but me” vibes and I love it. Her and Kyouya also both definitely look up to Mera as someone who’s well put together.

For the hair of the non-human reincarnations: Shiro’s hair feels like silk. Fei’s hair feels like feathers. And Kyouya’s hair feels like soft animal down. I bet Katia asks to play with Kyouya’s hair and then has a flied day with how soft it is. I also like to think she tries to convince him to let her do his nails lol.

For lifespan: So Shiroai is immortal, I’m assuming Ariel has a long life span close to that (ignoring the end of the novel with Ariel spoilers), and Mera and Sophia are somewhere in the same boat or close to that… How long is Kyouya’s lifespan??? For most angst is he gonna outlive his human friends but die before his demon family???

Goblins are just Hamsters: The Goblins look like they’re based on Hamster so you can not take away from me the Headcanon they’re language is just Hamster noises. I like to think Kyouya teaches it to the others so they can use it as code. (The Demon Army can communicate purely with inhuman noises lol). I like to think Kyouya purrs instead or snores because of this as well. I also like to think because he grew up around the Goblins he just sees them as people and doesn’t get what everyone thinks they look like.

Kyouya’s height: Kyouya was a manlet before reincarnation it's cannon I’m living. Okay and technically speaking he probably is after reincarnation as well. Like they are in a European Fantasy setting and he’s only “considerably taller than he used to be” which was considerably short for a Japanese High Schooler. Also in Ex2 we see him standing next to a Puppet Taratect (which are all short af) yet they come up to his shoulder.

Housewife vibes: I think what Kyouya wants in life is to be a Housewife ngl. Like he was most satisfied working to support people he was close to both in his past life online game and the goblin village. Plus I think though he did that by making weapons he would prefer not to have to fight. What if he makes good knives and just starts cooking for people. Like I don’t have more words right now so this is short but I could go off here.

My OT3 Agenda: Background: I’m just saying Kyouya is really depressed and probably doesn’t have any plans for after the war but I could see Ariel having in him work in the human area with Shun and Katia (probably cause she feels a bit sad about him losing friends) because he’s in their upper ranks and unlike Sophia can actually deal with people. But I feel like Shun and Katia feel bad that they had each other and he had to grow up all alone so they try and reconnect. Shun, because he really clings to the connections he does have and because they were so close in their past lives, desperately wants to rebuild that. Katia because she seems similarly attached to people she considers friends she’s afraid of losing that and probably feels bad for writing Kyoua off as maybe an enemy and not being there for him like she was for Shun. Kyouya is just deeply confused that they still want anything to do with him and feels undeserving but is really happy. Confession: I think Katia knows about her feelings first but doesn’t say anything due to self esteem issues (except some flirting to test the waters). I think Kyouya has a realization ™ and feels unsure of what to do (also self esteem issues). But ends up visibly being a little off which Shun notices and brings up to Katia (she sorta noticed as well) so she confronts him which ends in a mutual confession between the two as they then decide how to tell Shun. Shun meanwhile worried what’s going irks Fei who decides to inform him of his very obvious (to everyone but him) crushes. Now realizing his feelings he’s very awkward about it until Katia and Kyouya confront him and confession ensues. Now realizing they all love each other: OT3 successful.

Taking this outta the tags: Not even kidding answering asks about KumoDesu because I’ve sort of come to be know as a KumoDesu blog is like,,, I’m living my dream right now. I haven’t even posted my Kumoko Cosplay or that much Art yet but people just wanna hear my opinion???? Literally these asks give me so much dopamine feel free to keep them coming.

[thislovintime]

Photos from Disc & Music Echo’s May 11, 1968 issue:

“The day a Monkee shaved off his beard, one of his best friends was there to photograph the occasion for Disc! Peter Tork’s picture-taking pal was Lance Wakely, who shared a flat with Tork when he played folk music. Between the beard and today’s clean-shaved look, Peter kept a mustache.” - Disc and Music Echo, May 11, 1968

“Peter’s opinions are very definite, but he doesn’t have a closed mind; he’ll listen to someone else’s opinion. He’s into the Eastern thing — God is within you, the great oneness of man, the universal cosmic energy that exists, and so on.
 He’s in sympathy with the meditation thing, although he himself doesn’t actually meditate. He’s against the war in Vietnam and doesn’t approve of the economic excesses and cut-throat business attitudes so obvious in America today (and other countries too, for that matter). He has an almost naive belief in the basic goodness of his fellow man (a trait which hasn’t changed one iota through the years), and he thinks there is hope for everyone. […] Peter isn’t as happy as he could be, but he’s relatively content. He’s working at things he likes and feeling creative about what’s going on. He has the freedom to do all the things he wanted to do years ago, such as producing records and making movies and getting into artistic things that are expensive to do. At present he is producing his own songs and tracks for the next Monkee album, starting a movie production company and a recording company, and going into management for old friends who have a lot of talent but who never got out in front. Peter doesn’t regret being a Monkee, but he regards his experiences objectively. He realizes that he has learned a great deal about film and television and recording, all the things that would take so many years and dollars to learn normally — without the sudden fame and fortune. His strongest desire is to be a record producer; music is more to him than acting, although he digs acting. Peter once told me that it’s impossible to ‘categorize’ things like actor, musician, etc. ‘It’s all the same, everything overlaps,’ he said. ‘An actor has to know rhythm and timing. A musician must be able to interpret, to communicate. I can’t say I’d rather be this than that, I just want to do whatever it is that feels best.’” - Judy Sims, Disc & Music Echo, May 11, 1968 (more from Judy's article in an older post, here)

[outsidereveries]

— zerobaseone: bunch of requested readings

all of the readings are done between 12th and 13th june (2023).

the requested readings are:

how zb1 views ricky

hanbin sees ricky as someone who (for hanbin) completes hum fully and even though they probably have different energy, hanbin feels that ricky is the missing but needed to him piece for his life.

jiwoong thinks that ricky has changed his life fast and completely. to jiwoong ricky is exciting, refreshing but also might be introverted in some way. i’m certain jiwoong would love to know ricky more.

zhang hao respects ricky and wants to protect him till the end. honestly, hao also feels complete with ricky, so he might think ricky is like his little brother or something like that?

matthew also sees ricky as great person. matthew thinks ricky is someone who wants to help out (and matthew would do the same), as happy, optimistic guy.. basically, positive things.

taerae on the other hand sees ricky as someone who wants to know him better, however taerae has something in mind that ricky might not be trustworthy at all, so i think taerae might have trust issues..

gyuvin thinks ricky is naive and easy to manipulate. gyuvin might thinks ricky is boring, so i wouldn’t expect them to have any moments on shows. but also gyuvin would defend ricky no matter what. honestly, there is love-hate relationship from gyuvin’s side🤷🏻‍♀️

gunwook might find their relationship hard to maintain as of current time, so whatever his thoughts are, they’re definitely confusing and without any specific words.

yujin and ricky might be too different, especially character-wise, so.. i’d say nothing after that🤷🏻‍♀️

how zb1 views yujin

hanbin sees yujin as someone who has changed his life in some way: however, i do feel these feelings hanbin has can change. the leader currently views positively yujin with the impact the maknae has over the leader. (i didn’t fet anything else, i am sorry)

jiwoong likes yujin a lot. he sees the maknae as balanced and stable person who thinks before acting and when he acts, he’s just doing it straight away. jiwoong appreciate these qualities of yujin.

zhang hao also sees yujin as someone who changed his life in some way. hao is for the change that’s needed, and he’s embracing it. hao sees yujin like a little brother - the energy is similar to how hao sees ricky.

matthew and yujin might’ve not liked each other at first. they might’ve not understood each other, but it seems that they’re ready for new start of their acquaintanceship at least. also, matthew sees yujin as a survivor? did yujin get through something that matthew saw? matthew’s thoughts of the maknae is definitely interesting, so the theories here are many.

taerae doesn’t like yujin. he thinks yujin is overwhelming person who doesn’t have trust to. yujin might even think he is secretive, who keeps his actual intentions to himself and doesn’t share them. taerae is fine with sharing this

ricky LOVES yujin but apparently they also didn’t liked each other at first? perhaps, ricky might’ve done sth yujin doesn’t like? but nonetheless ricky still loves loves yujin. (as a friend)

gyuvin thinks yujin is too attached to him, obsessed even. their friendship might be karmic, toxic even, and although the maknae brings excitement in some way, it’s too much to gyuvin.

gunwook sees yujin as really happy and optimistic person who is emotional and would give anything to help (and gunwook will help back).

how zb1 views zhang hao (how hanbin sees hao is uploaded separately weeks ago)

he’s apparently fine with me sharing jiwoong might see hao as someone introverted (who has hard time with sharing) and because of it jiwoong might have trust issues.

matthew sees hao as someone who loves to help (basically give-take person?, in positive way of course, no bad feelings).. and seok thinks his opinion is fair 😐

taerae sees hao as someone who is very special to him. like, to taerae hao is his soulmate? taerae just feels complete with hao and i think he’s adorable

ricky might have trust issues, to be honest. ricky sees how hao appreciates him but apparently ricky might be too afraid to be honest with hao and he even might have insecurities that stop ricky to be closer with hao in the way they will have healthy friendship. ricky might be even jealous of hao and maybe he tries to hide it with his attachment towards zhang hao in some form.

gyuvin sees hao as someone who’s “a breath of fresh air��. gyuvin wants and is excited to know zhang hao better. gyuvin feels hao is their light, their newfound clarity even..

gunwook loves hao. he also sees him as someone who’s willing to help (and will return the help). gunwook just likes hao a lot, i feel the appreciation and the love.

yujin sees hao in the same way hao sees yujin.

how zhang hao views matthew

hao on the other side feels matthew as really comfortable person. warm, precious even. hao sees matthew as someone who’s helping him a lot with his traumatic experiences in life.

ricky, career reading in zb1 (till august 2023)

as a member of zb1, ricky might have a opportunity that he wants to try! i see he will work with someone else: it might be collaboration as well as him getting closer with one of the older zb1 members. the work can change his perspective of idol life, so i feel ricky will be even more motivated for his idol opportunity. some sort of pr zb1 ship is also possible, but i am not certain if it’s that or another individual activity in some way.

how ricky is treated by wakeone

ricky is treated by the company.. um, not the worse but not the best either. there are challenges between him and wakeone. i think wakeone is purposely sabotaging some of his individual opportunities he currently has, and ricky is still taking responsibility (for him being an idol in the future). i think ricky is clueless of this, but wakeone will offer something that will mark ricky’s new start.

this might be about line disturbition mistreatment if he won’t have solo activities in the upcoming months.

zb1’s debut:

how it will be perceived (by fans/critics/etc.)

i see quite mixed opinions.. some of then might not care, others will be hurt.. do you expect something different? that’s what i see..

will they shine when they debut?

unfortunately, i think their debut somehow will be ignored and something else will be looked instead.

what’s their popularity potential?

to me quite in the middle. it depends how they’ll play the dramatic moment that will turn the tables for zb1’s relevance.

will they be successful with the time?

- south korea:

it looks like they’re already reached the needed success? unfortunately, if their audience isn’t loyal.. well.. it looks like zb1 won’t gain that much fans in south korea?

- everywhere else:

they definitely have the potential for the global popularity every other k-pop group is looking for.

success check (2023-2026)

- 2023: they’ll start to build their popularity, but i don’t think they’ll do something significant to rise their relevance up.

- 2024: might receive a opportunity that will “serve then right”? the energy to me is similar to this year’s but if this shows that they’ll be viral, let it be? i have no idea..

- 2025: they’ll establish their loyal fanbase, but the thoughts of them disbanding are appearing to me. i don’t see they’ll hit the “viral moment”, but the thoughts for individual paths are there.

- 2026: yeah, it looks like then they’ll apart as zb1. one or some of them might switch the industries.

career reading, 2023

- july/august:

unfortunately, there will be something that will be delayed or missed on purpose. there might be lack of activities for some reason if zb1 actually debut in july. they might have also a scandal which won’t affect their career’s relevance.

- september/october:

it looks more beneficial for the group, so if their debut gets actually delayed, these months will be more beneficial to the boys. (i don’t have anything to type)

- november/december:

unfortunately, i see they’ll have less activities in some way. they might be not that packed with work, but it looks like that doesn’t matter, because the boys will be happy for that?

how their debut will go:

weeks 1/2: there’s potential for mistreatment from wakeone (possibly there might be lack of activities for real). i can see they’ll do well on the charts despite the hardships.

weeks 3/4: uncertain

weeks 5/6: now i understand why the 3rd and 4th week are uncertain… so, there will be scandal, right? i see some possibilities:

wakeone might manipulate their sales in order to have their first win

someone might be caught in money-related scandal

i don’t think it will be dating one (saw the pictures of gyuvin with his alleged either ex or current girlfriend).

weeks 7/8: better compared to the rest of the weeks. might receive some offers

zhang hao’s solo song (type of song/perception): expectations vs reality

expectations: getting over someone type of song? being adventurous? / hao might expect to deep dive into the song and feel the nostalgia?

reality: yeah, i see the type of song hao tried to do.. i don’t feel the popularity that much. there’s some potential but .. it might not do that well.

ps. by typing that someone is fine with me sharing of anything i mean their guides