#but who KEEPS running into boy because she keeps trying to not do it
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Hello, op! While I do find your reading of Kabru’s self sacrifice and how little he eats really good, im curious why you consider him the deuteragonist? He is a foil to the protagonist yes, but still a supporting character.
I think its pretty clear Marcille is the second most important character in DM, and her story has much more weight than Kabru’s.
Hello! I've mentioned this on my blog before, but I actually consider Marcille and Kabru to both be deuteragonists to Laios's protagonist. I just wasn't talking about Marcille in that post.
Technically this term is meant to be used in playwriting, and the Greek tradition at that, so I'm playing a little loosey goosey with semantics and my argument would sound different if I were writing an academic paper. But this is tumblr dot edu and I'm trying to get a point across on my little blog, and part of the idea of a deuteragonist is that they support the protagonist. "Secondary main character who has their own importance in the narrative while bolstering the protagonist" works well enough for my purposes.
I think Marcille and Kabru are both playing specific and complementary roles to Laios. Marcille is at his side, facilitating the A plot: namely, "save Falin", which requires Marcille's magic, and then Marcille's method of resurrection ropes Thistle in, so the continuation of "save Falin" necessitates confronting the Dungeon Lord and conquering the dungeon (the B plot).
Kabru only intersects with Laios, but he is tied from the beginning to the B plot- and with dragging basically everyone else into it. Actually, the fact that he brings in this extremely loaded B plot despite only having brief face time with the protagonist should be seen as significant. In a sense, Kabru represents the surface world and all its concerns.
Before I talk about that more, I want to continue with the complementary line of thinking and point out that Kabru and Marcille have very similar background motivations.
Laios wants to save his sister first and foremost, and it's only along the way that he starts to consider what he'd do with the responsibility of Dungeon Lord. Coming to the conclusion that he wants to create a home for disparate peoples to live in harmony has connective tissue to both Kabru and Marcille's desires.
Marcille is the only one in their party who starts out with a greater motivation other than saving Falin (Izutsumi is a special case, but she's ultimately along for the ride), one that she keeps hidden for a long time. Because she is a mage, and because she is driven by a very personal tragedy (my dad died; I am terrified of outliving everyone), she is looking for a miracle to bring the different races closer together.
Kabru comes from a background of personal tragedy as well, but it's also a far greater, more political tragedy than just the death of a parent. It is not a coincidence that Kabru is a brown boy from an exploited region that suffered despite and because of military intervention from a first-world power, nor that he was adopted by a white woman whose coddling/dehumanization of him represents the paternalistic oversight of these world powers.
Thus, Kabru's motivations are both personal and political: if they, the short-lived races, can finally access the secrets of the dungeons, then not only can they have agency in stopping tragedies like Utaya's, but it will also give them a greater power of self-determination.
Marcille and Kabru have both correctly identified and set themselves against a problem that is greater than saving the life of one girl, greater even than sealing this one dungeon.
Despite Marcille's hopes, there is no grand magic solution to this. Only small, slow, backbreaking, ordinary solutions, the kind you labor over in kitchens and bedrooms and throne rooms and meeting houses and hearths and negotiation tables. The kind you run a kingdom with.
There is a reason why Dungeon Meshi ends with Marcille and Kabru on either side of Laios's throne.
Okay: back to Kabru (under the cut).
I've talked about this a little before, but I'll reiterate here: I consider Kabru to be the counterweight to the back half of the story. In a very literal sense too, as he pulls the focus up from the depths to the surface not once, but twice. Dungeon Meshi builds itself on the premise that the traditional "dungeon" must function as an actual ecosystem, and the monsters in it are biological actors in that ecosystem and not merely magical obstacles independent of their environment. The first couple dozen chapters are focused on this. Like regular animals, monsters have needs and instincts and unique behaviors, and they can be killed and consumed as part of a food chain.
And then Kabru comes along and he reminds us that humans are also part of their own special ecosystem, with their own needs and instincts and unique behaviors, and that beyond the biological drive of the literal food chain there are also complex social issues influencing these behaviors (like capitalism). Tansu's visit with the governor introduced us to these ideas, but Kabru is the one who carries them.
The way he and his party break down Laios's party also serves an important function. I think most readers are so busy being shocked that Kabru is "so wrong" about our goofy boy Laios that they don't realize that he isn't actually wrong about anything (he's only missing the context of what drives Laios, which he admits to and is part of the reason why he pursues him). We've gotten only Laios's view of things so far, and Laios is pretty tunnel-visioned. The narrative, through Kabru, is telling the reader this is how our protagonist actually comes across to his community.
We like Laios because we are following his story from his inner circle. We know he's naive and struggles with people but that he has a good heart and is ultimately just a big silly guy who won't harm anybody if he can help it. But we only know that because we're seeing him with his inner circle, in his environment. Outside of the dungeon, Laios is anti-social to the point of rudeness; he misreads situations and misjudges people, he acts in ways that cause friction, and he accidentally aligns himself with people who make his whole enterprise look suspicious: a prominent half-foot community leader, a mysterious foreigner literally surrounded by spies, the disgraced daughter of a criminal who now has to shoulder the burden of her father's reputation, and an elf in a land where there are no elves. And they seem to be very good at what they're doing. Yet this whole time, Laios acts as if he doesn't care about profit or taking the kingdom, the only logical reasons why anyone on the Island would gather up such a party and throw themselves into this death pit day after day.
Yeah of course Kabru finds this suspicious and interesting. Of course people don't know what to make of Laios. This all reiterates the question that Zon the orc already raised: What will you do, Laios, if you defeat the Mad Mage? If you gain control of all of this? Can you be a leader? Laios himself doesn't know yet.
This is all necessary context for our protagonist and the journey he has to go on, and it's fittingly brought up by the most socially adept character, who is so concerned with human ecosystems and the bigger picture of the dungeon. There is a reason why Kabru, as a character, is connected to large webs of people as he moves throughout the narrative: his own party, Toshiro's party, the Canaries, the denizens of the first floor of the dungeon.
Kabru is responsible for bringing Toshiro down to Laios's party. Toshiro is not a big mover and shaker in the story itself, but his confrontation with Laios is a huge part of Laios's character arc. His detour down to the lower levels also allows Izutsumi to escape and join Laios's party later.
We also have this very important moment:
It shows the first inkling- to the audience, to Kabru, and to Laios himself- that Laios is willing to do a painful, necessary thing to protect other people, that he won't just allow them to become collateral for his sister/monsters. That he can listen, and that he can assess a situation beyond his personal feelings. Again, fittingly, big-picture-thinker Kabru is the catalyst for this.
And then, not content to leave him as merely a device for Laios's character growth, the focus slingshots back up to the surface, and we follow Kabru.
The Canaries were going to go into the dungeon soon anyway, and they were always going to stir up the crowd in order to lure Thistle to them. Unless Thistle had given up right then and managed to slip away, the story could have very easily ended here:
Falin, immobilized and surrounded by Canaries, would have certainly been killed, and there would have been no way to ever resurrect her. Thistle would have been neutralized. The dungeon would have been taken by the elves, and anyone they could get their hands on would have been imprisoned at best. And maybe the dungeon would have been managed safely ... or maybe something would have gone wrong, and more lives would have been lost. Remember: the Canaries arrived in Utaya one year before the tragedy.
This is a huge moment that changes Laios's life forever, and he doesn't even know it. Kabru single-handedly keeps the story on course by sabotaging the Canaries, and he does it not just for Laios's sake, but for everyone's sake. For his friends and companions in the dungeon and everyone else outside it. Laios is a part of his motivation, a key player in Kabru's hopes, but Kabru has his own desires, his own agenda. He's trying to change the world. In a way, he succeeds. And while the Canaries might wish it were otherwise, as an entity in the narrative they are always anchored to Kabru's character. The two forces collide because of Kabru. The unsealing of the Winged Lion and Marcille's emergency ascension to Dungeon Lord happen indirectly because of Kabru.
While I have talked so much already that I don't want to give a detailed breakdown of it, I do want to mention Kabru's unique interiority as a character. That is to say: we see the inside of Kabru's head more than anyone else. Every character in the main ensemble gets their own moments of inner monologues or fifteen minutes in the limelight, but for Kabru, it's constant. He's always thinking, talking, narrating. His POV chapters always stand out for how first-person they feel compared to most others.
Notably, the only other character I could compare that to is Marcille, specifically during the dungeon rabbit debacle and her ascension afterward, which is when she really takes center stage as a character.
I hope I've explained my reasoning without becoming too insufferable.
To cap off my thoughts with a nod to my original post, I cannot stress enough how significant it is, thematically, that Kabru's relationship with food is the inverse of Laios's. It isn't just that Laios is the main character in a story about cooking monsters and Kabru happens to be his monster-hating foil. The artistic choice to deny the reader the visual of this character ever enjoying food, and only ever putting it in his mouth in situations where it hurts him, in a manga that gives so much attention to eating and the pleasures of meals, cannot be understated.
#Dungeon Meshi#Marcille Donato#Kabru#Kabru of Utaya#Dungeon Meshi meta#Dungeon Meshi spoilers#I started answering this at 10:30 AM but took several detours#mostly I was at work. some people shitpost at work. god knows what I'm doing.#I am so fucking sorry I did not mean for it to be this long. I had to EDIT THIS DOWN#paging malewifesband I feel like this does the trick wrt: Kabru's function in the narrative#of course I have more to say about he and Laios specifically (she threatened)#musings with Dea#I think I'll go back and add image descriptions but it's been eight hours and I need dinner!#and also to play FFXIV#dungeonposting#Dea's anonymous friends
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Painted Smile
Painted Smile XV
Pairing: Alastor x Female! Reader
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Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.
Notes: Because I wasn't satisfied with the last chapter I decided to post the next one right now. I’m so excited about your thoughts because the plot is finally beginning ! I can’t wait to hear about your theories.
“ It makes your boobs look ugly, another one please !”
You were being tugged behind the curtain already being undressed to put on another dress. Today you were with Alice, in one of the most expensive shops of all New Orleans, to find your wedding dress. It was an exciting, amusing and stressful experience. Alice was being, as usual, honest about the dress you have been trying for almost an hour.
“ Alice, how many more dresses do I need to try? You know we still don’t have a date for the wedding? Alastor’s father is still missing.”
“ What about it? His loss if he misses the wedding. Now, I think I’ve found the perfect dress for you~!”
You laughed behind the curtain. Alice didn’t even know Alastor’s father, she never met him but you have told her once that you didn’t feel comfortable with him and she decided that she would hate him until the end of time. You looked at the dresses you have been trying, a part of you was happy to be here with your best friend and yet you wondered…Were you selfish? You knew Alice was in love with Alyzée but they couldn’t get wed to each other… Were you hurting Alice without being aware of it?
“ Alice–?”
“ This one. This one will fit perfectly your waist, your legs, your shoulder, your chest. For heaven’s sake, I’m the best.” she said looking at her nails. Why were your best friend and your future husband so full of themselves while you were always insecure ! “ Come on, try this one.”
“ Alice.. I’m.. You’re okay?” you asked, taking the dresses off her hands.
“ Yes? Well, I’m still shocked about what you told me about John, but you know what we say, we don’t keep trash around us.”
“ Who is “we”?”
“ Me, Myself and I. Now, try the dress, doll ! I’ll find the shoes!” you laughed as you watched her running away. You sighed with a smile, you were surrounded by amazing people, you should try to be more sure about yourself.
The workers from the stores helped you put on the dress and your shoes. You looked at yourself in the mirror. You felt.. pretty. Really pretty. You smiled at yourself, moving the pans of the dress, loving the movement it was doing.
“ Can I see?”
“ Of course Alice.” you turned around. Since you could remember, Alice always knew how to dress you up. From her Christmas’s Eve’s soirée where she had found that beautiful dress from today, she would always come with outfits from other countries, always being new, unique, something Alastor scoffed most of the time. He was always saying that Alice was running toward the future without being aware of her surroundings. And Alice was always saying that Alastor needed to shut up because he was lucky to look good in anything.
“ Oh my Lord. You look ravishing, my friend!” she clapped her hands together, her eyes whelming up a bit. “ Oh God… I’m… I’m so proud of you.”
“ I haven’t done anything yet.” you laughed nervously.
“ Take the compliment for once. So, what do you think? I , personally, think it’s the perfect dress for you. But what do you think?”
“ This is my favorite too. but the price–”
“ Let me buy it.” you opened your mouth, ready to complain but Alice stopped you with her hand.” I know, I know, you’ve never liked me paying stuff for you, expensive things mostly. But please, just this one, let me buy it. I… The next time I go into this kind of shop might be for my own wedding, which won’t be filled with laughter and love like we just did. It might be selfish, but just.. I want this moment. I’m sorry–”
“ Okay.” you smiled, almost moved to tears by her comment “ But Alice, for your wedding, no matter with who, I’ll be there. There will be laughter and love, because you won’t be alone in this.”
You saw Alice nodded, wiping some tears from her eyes. You looked at her, your best friend might never be married to the one she loved, but you will never let her feel loveless.
You took off the dress, as Alice went to pay in cash. You joined her once you were dressed with your own clothes and you both walked toward her place. You saluted the butler, who bowed to you.
You both sat down in the huge living room, sighing in relief. You took off your heels, your feet were killing you.
“ By the way, if we need to find Alastor’s father to be able to have your wedding, do you want me to… pull a few strings for you? I could call the best of the best!”
“ No, no. I won’t lie, the fact that he is missing isn’t… bothering me.”
“ I’ll cheer for that. “ she winked at you before asking for wine. You laughed, she always loved Rosé. It wasn’t very strong in alcohol, it had a very good taste but when the alcohol hitted. Dear lord…
You didn’t drink too much, you had to walk back home yourself after all. You smiled when you saw Alice put on Alastor's broadcast even though she was rolling her eyes at the radio sometimes.
“ Are you hearing him? Gosh. I knew you when your voice was cracking, Alastor !” she shouted at the radio.
“ Alastor voice never–”
“ A woman can dream, dear. Gosh, now I hear his voice anywhere I’m going.”
You laughed behind your glass. Alastor was gaining popularity surprisingly quickly, which was good of course. It was the best outcome you could imagine.
“ Now, about my cottage.”
“ Alice, we told you we don’t have the money and you just bought me my wedding dress.”
“ Who is “we” my dear?”
“ Me, Myself and I.” You stuck your tongue at her, making her laugh. Alice was a girl ahead of her time with her manners and way of talking, she always felt like a breeze of fresh air.
“ Well, if you all say so.” She took a sip of a drink before looking at the door, her father making his entrance. You stood up as the big man smiled at you, he always has been nice, never raising his voice, always wanting what’s best for Alice.
“ Oh, good afternoon ladies. Alice, I just wanted to tell you that you might have a date with the son of the–”
“ Yes Daddy, I know, don’t worry I’ll go.” she said, looking away. You saw her father smile sadly before leaving after giving you both candy you used to like when you were younger. You looked at her, worried. Was she going to be okay? “ Don’t look at me like that Doll. It’s going to be the same as usual, I’m going there, bat my pretty eyes and at the end, I’ll just say to Daddy that the man wasn’t what we needed for the family.”
“ How long do you think you can keep this game going?”
She stared at the large windows in silence. Alice was just like a bird in a cage, she felt like freedom, but would never taste it for herself.
“ As long as I can.”
You stayed with her until the sun was setting down. The maid took her to her bedroom as she was sleeping on the sofa. Seems like going on another date was getting harder and harder for her. Was Alyzée aware of it? You sighed as you gave your goodbye, before walking out of the mansion.
You decided to go into a park, walking between the trees. There weren’t a lot of people outside, even though we were in March, the weather was still cold. You stopped when you saw an old man fall not too far from you.
“ Oh sir! Are you alright, let me help you!” you said as you took the cane that had fallen from his hand. You helped him sitting down on a nearby bench.
“ Oh, thank you little lady.”
The man was tall, black with brown eyes, a white beard, he was wearing a hat, helding on his cane, he seemed like he had injured his leg.
“ Do you want me to take a look at your leg? I’m no nurse, but I used to help my father when he came back from war.”
“ Ahh, war. You don’t need to take care of me, little lady.” he smiled warmly at you. “ You look sad yourself, do you need to talk about it with an old man?”
You looked at him, he felt so warm and he was… cute. His aura was gentle, cute like a kid that wanted to learn something new. You haven’t seen your grandfather since he died during the war, you haven’t had the strength to go back to your old country to go to his grave so… Maybe why not indulge yourself and talk with this man?
“ I’m… I want to help a friend, she is in love but can’t marry that person.”
“ Aah, love. And why can’t she?”
“ She had to marry someone from “noble blood”.” you sighed, rolling your eyes. It was bullshit. “ She has no choice.”
“ Mhn… I think she does, little lady. We always have a choice, when you think you don’t have one, it’s because you already made up your mind. “ he smiled at you with eyes that held so much wisdom.
“ But… What if the other choices are more dangerous?” you asked, feeling like you weren’t talking about Alice anymore.
“ Well, little lady. What would you do?”
You stopped talking. You killed to be with the one you wanted. You had a choice and yet..
“ Are you unhappy with the choices you made?”
“ No, but I’m afraid of what it will bring at my door.”
“ Aah.. Si jeunesse savait, si vieillesse pouvait.”
“ What?”
“ You will see, little lady. Your friend is maybe so blinded by what she has to do that she can’t see what she could do. Love is the deadliest poison and yet the sweetest remedy in the world. She should try to think for herself, don’t you think? Would you rather live your whole life in misery or be happy for a short time of your existence? The difference between existing and living is thin, little lady, but it exists.” he nodded before looking at the sky, seeming lost in thoughts.
You stared at this mysterious man. He seemed to be around 60, maybe that is why he seemed so wise. You looked at the sky and gasped when you saw the moon in the sky. It was already dark!
“ Oh, I need to go!” you stood up but before leaving you took the candy from Alice’s father. You smiled at the man, placing the candy in his veiny hands. “ Thank you for that useful advice.” You beamed at him as he looked curiously at the candy before smiling at you. “ Maybe we’ll see each other one day again !”
“ May our ways cross again if needed, little lady, may our ways cross…”
You ran back home, feeling better than when you left Alice’s house. You walked inside and saw your father with Jeff in the living room. They were still trying to understand how Alastor’s father could have disappeared like this. You smiled at the men, walking toward them.
“ Nothing news?”
“ No, my sweet daughter. We are trying, but from the moment he left the bar he wasn’t seen anymore.”
“ I’m sure the wife was having an affair and decided to kill the husband. Classic scenarios.”
“ And how could she have done that?” you sat on the sofa, staring at Jeff with an innocent smile. You almost smirked when you saw him puffing his chest, feeling so much pride in vomiting all the information he should kept away from you.
“ The man came home, drunk. She could easily poison him, hide the body somewhere and end the story.”
“ Mhn… But without a body, you don’t know. What if he was the one having an affair and ran away? From what I understood, he seemed to be someone who drank a lot, maybe he was being ambushed in an alley because we know for a fact he never made it back home.” you smiled at him, your father smiling with pride by your side.
“ That what they say but–”
“ No, that’s what we said. I was there. I’ve never seen this man come back home.” you stared at him down. He shut his mouth. “ You see, I really want to get married and the fact that you are trying to put the blame on my future family in law is getting on my nerves. So please, do me, us, a favor, find out what happened. And if you are unable to, just give up.” you looked at your father. “ I don’t want to wait forever, I want to get married.”
Your father stared at you before kissing your forehead.
“ Alright sweetie, we have a new man who’ll help us in this case. I’ll give him three months, if he doesn’t find anything, I will close the case and we will concentrate on your wedding.” you hugged your father with a happy grin. Finally!
You bid your goodbye before going into your bedroom, getting ready to go to bed. You listened to the noises downstairs, waiting for Jeff to go and your father to go to bed.
You were concentrating so much on trying to hear what was going downstairs that you didn’t notice the shadows behind you. You almost shouted as a gloved hand fell upon your mouth, muffling your screams.
“ You’re such an easy prey, dearest.”
You sighed in relief as you closed your eyes. Alastor was really the quietest being you have ever met, which was surprising when he was the noisiest man on the radio.
You turned your head toward him, looking at his mocking smile. He was so full of himself. You bit his finger before letting it go, going for a hug. He hummed against you.
“ How did you come here?”
“ Well, the windows, dear.”
You scoffed before forcing him to sit on your bed. You sat on his lap and took his hand with yours, playing with his fingers.
“ I have my wedding dress.” you smirked when you felt his whole body tensed underneath you. “ And you won’t see it, because I left it at Alice’s.”
“ Do you really need Alice in your life, dearest?” asked Alastor with an amused voice.
“ Yes! Come on Alastor, be honest with me, you enjoy Alice’s company?”
“ Hah ! I enjoy Alice’s contacts nothing more.” he rolled his eyes, pressing you against his body. “ She is useful and she can be amusing, when she is having problems.” he smirked at you, making you slap his shoulder, trying to contain your laughter. He was such a…
“ Well, I have some news on your father’s case, my dear future husband.” you smiled as you explained what happened with Jeff. You couldn’t help but grin when you saw Alastor beaming with pride as he listen to what you have told the policeman.
“ My, my… So, they think my Mother did it?”
“ For now, we know that we have three months until we are completely free of it.”
“ Have you felt it again?”
You tilted your head.
“ What?”
“ The need to kill.” he asked you, gripping your waist, pressing your body against his. You felt lightheaded.
“ N-N.. Well… I thought for a second.. to kill John.” you saw Alastor’s pupils dilated as he stared at you before kissing your neck. You tilted your head to give him more room.
“ Mhn, interesting, go on, why?”
“ Because he was bad mouthing you.” you tried to contain the anger in your voice, you didn’t want to wake up your parents. “ Who does he think he is?” you rolled your eyes, you were still hurt about what John has said but now you weren’t feeling sadness over it, only anger.
“ Would you like to kill him?”
You looked at Alastor who had his chin against your chest, looking at you in a way too innocent face for the conversation you were having.
“ Alastor, we can’t. There would be too much suspicion on us, we already have your father’s disappearance on us, if we kill John–” he kissed you feverishly making you sigh in the kiss. Oh, how you loved the feeling of Alastor’s lips against yours.
“ Do you hear yourself, darling?” he smiled against your lips. “ In your mind, you are already ready to kill him… ” he sighed against your skin. You stared at him, stroking his cheeks. You wanted to see the Alastor you had seen the first time you killed.
The difference between existing and living is thin, little lady, but it exists.
You kissed Alastor on the nose, with an excited smile.
“ Not now.”
You fell asleep with new marks on your thighs and your neck. When you woke up the next morning, you were already smiling.
You stayed with your mother all morning, spending time with her until you decided to go to Alice’s. You didn’t know when her date was supposed to be, but if you could help her morally before she had to leave, it would be great. You took some pancakes you’ve made and walked toward her mansion, the butler let you enter, escorting you to the living room.
“ Miss Alice shall be here soon.”
You nodded before sitting on the sofa. You put the pancakes on the table and wait until you hear the familiar footsteps of your best friend. You turned your head and smiled at her, as usual, she was beautiful.
“ Hello Alice.” you stood up and you both hugged each other. She sat next to you, holding her head in her hand. “ Mhn, the wine doesn’t taste good the day after, right?” you laughed as she groaned.
“ Please, not so loud…”
“ What a hangover.” you whispered, mockingly. She stuck her tongue at you before digging into your pancakes. “ Well, someone is hungry.”
“ I don’t want this man to think he has a chance with me because I seem eager to eat.”
You smiled, crossing your legs. You told Alice that you needed to wait three more months before finally concentrating on your wedding. You laughed as she let out a sigh of pure relief.
“ Thank God, since when do we stop living because a man disappeared.” she rolled her eyes before eating the last pancake. You look at the butler who came to announce Alice’s date. And like an actress, Alice put on the fakest smile she could conjure, Alastor would be proud. You stood up as a man, looking around 40 came into the living room, he was sweating so much you could see sweat pearling on his forehead.
You gave Alice a look, encouraging her with your eyes before leaving, you even made a face to the butler who nodded at you, with a disgusted face. You laughed before leaving, going out to buy some pastries. You walked to the park, thinking about your weddings. Where should you do it? What about the honeymoons? Did Alastor want children?
You stopped when you saw the same old man from last time, sitting on the bench, smoking a pipe. You grinned and walked toward him.
“ Hello, sir.”
“ Hello, little lady.”
“ Might I sit a moment with you?”
“ It would be my pleasure. You seem happier than yesterday.”
You smiled as you sat next to the man. You felt safe with him, maybe it was because his aura reminded you of your deceased grandfather..? You didn’t know. You began to talk, mostly about what was going on in your life until you began to talk about your wedding.
“ Mhn, you have quite the ring.” the old man said with a little grin. He didn’t have a ring on his fingers, did he never get married?
“ Yes, in less than three months, I will be able to concentrate on my wedding.”
“ Who is the lucky lad?”
“ If you are listening to the radio you might have heard him, his name is Alastor.”
“ Alastor heh..? Quite a name, quite a name…”
You smiled, happy that Alastor was getting a name to himself. You took your box of pastries and held one for your new friend. He thanked you before eating one éclair au chocolat. You smiled as you kept talking with him, the man mostly listening and giving you wise advice.
“ Being too confident is not a good thing, your insecurity might be a blessing on some occasions.”
“ What do you mean?”
“ Don’t be afraid, to feel afraid. The ones who don’t fear are gods, spirits…”
“ But it’s irrational.” you frowned, how many times you felt jealousy when you didn’t need to be.
“ Yes, but it’s instinctive. Here is some wise advice from an old man: trust your feelings. Did they ever betray you in the past, when you needed them, little lady?” he looked at you with a warm smile.
You looked at the ground. Your family always told you, you were sensitive, you would easily be overwhelmed by what you were feeling or what was going on around you.
But when Alastor’s father took the bullets, you didn’t know why, you felt it in your guts that something was going to happen. That’s why you had run outside to find Alastor and that's how you killed his father.
But then, why did you not feel John’s romantic attention towards you ?
“ People who feel a lot are trying to balance themselves by becoming observant. That way, they feel more grounded, they think they are being rational, which can be good sometimes. But you mustn't discard your feelings, you’ll lose yourself like that. You seem like a sensitive little lady, it’s not bad and it’s not good, that's what you seem to be. Why would you want to be like others, they are already busy being themselves.”
“ So.. I should listen to myself more?”
“ It’s a choice you can make. Feeling emotions is a good thing, it connects you to the rest of the world.” he nodded before looking at the sky, smiling warmly. “ And isn’t it beautiful?”
You stared at the man. He was such an.. intense person in a way. Would he talk to you the same way if he knew you had killed someone and you didn’t feel any kind of remorse?
“ What if… by being connected to the world, I might be a bad person?” you whispered.
“ That’s your choice. For some people you will be a bad person no matter what you do, no matter what you think.” he looked at his cane before eating the rest of his éclair au chocolat. “ Soldiers killed during war, the winners are seen as heroes, and the losers as cold blooded killers. Who is right? They all killed people, they all did horrible things and yet they aren’t seen as the same. Your father have killed during the war, right? What made him different from an enemy soldier?”
“ Because… he was fighting for what’s…right..?”
“ Who says?” he tilted his head, always having a gentle expression. He wasn’t judging you, he was just curious about your thoughts.
You couldn’t find an answer to his questions.
You stayed in silence for a moment, thinking about the man’s words. What was strange, was that his words weren't shaking your morals, but it was making you accept them. You had killed, you wanted to kill again, maybe not as strongly as Alastor, but you wouldn’t be opposed to killing again, if it was to protect. You knew it was the difference between you and Alastor, you would kill to protect while you knew Alastor would kill.. Because he wanted to.
And you accepted it, you accepted him, you accepted yourself.
You would be the wife to a murderer, maybe he would kill again, maybe not. You didn’t really care. You would be by his side, as promised.
You opened your eyes, feeling lighter. You didn’t expect to feel burdened by all of this, but maybe, the fact that you were trying to make the wedding happen was a way for you not to think about what happened.
You felt better.
You turned your head toward the man who was looking at the people walking in front of you. They weren’t looking at you, just walking, not even caring about you. You smiled.
“ Thank you. I feel… better.”
“ Is it a good thing?” he asked, amused. You grinned.
“ Well, for my own happiness, yes!”
“ Then, everything is good.”
“ I’m going to meet a friend.. But, can I have your name sir?”
The man stared at you with his usual gentle and wise expression. You waited politely, maybe he thought you were being rude, asking his name out of the blues?
“ Legba.”
You bid your goodbye before walking toward Alice’s home. You were going to encourage her to break free from her chains! She didn’t need to marry a sweaty man, she could handle herself perfectly! You entered the mansion, the butler escorting you once again in the living room. Now, you just need to wait!
You opened your eyes, not even realizing you fell asleep when you heard shouting at the front door. You walked toward the entrance and saw Alice and the sweaty gentleman, your friend was shouting at the man, demanding his departure from her house while he was clearly trying to calm Alice.
“ What is going on?”
“ This man is just a filthy pig! Touching me like I’m some kind of harlot.” she was fuming, trying to contain her rage. What did that man do? The man, who didn’t seem sure of himself became more confident, pointing at Alice.
“ Maybe that’s what you are, kissing the mayor’s daughter like this. What a scoop that would be, unless we come to an agreement of course. I think you would make a darling wife Miss Alice. I’ll let you think about it, and if you need more convincing, I have proof. Now, have a great night ladies.”
And just like that, he left.
Alice closed the door before dropping to her knees, breathing heavily. You took her in your arms, looking for a butler or a maid but nobody was around, which was weird. You tried to calm her but she was panicking.
“ He saw us.. He saw us kiss.. Oh lord, what could happen if he were to open his mouth about it.” she was shaking, nipping at her nails.
You calmly took her hand with yours.
“ Do you have any way to get rid of him?”
She looked at you, seeming torn to speak before sighing.
“ Don’t think I’m a monster but… Most of the richest families have.. people who do their dirty jobs? Sending… assassins or things like that..? I’ve never done that of course, but I feel so trapped right now… Oh, what Alyzée is going to think.”
“ She won’t need to think about it. Use your assassins.” you wondered if you were shocking her. Maybe you were a little too at ease with the idea of killing someone ?
“ No. They would report everything to my father and if they see the proof… My father would know about me and Alyzée.” she sighed, rubbing her face with her hands. You knew it was dangerous, you knew it could backfire but…
“ What about me?”
“ You? What you?”
“ Do you want me to… ?”
Alice stared at you before laughing so hard she was crying. Or was she crying so hard that she was laughing ?You waited for her to calm down before staring at her.
“ Are you serious ?”
“ Seems like she is.”
You both turned around to find Alastor, standing in front of you, the door open.
“ My dear, we don’t talk about taking trash out at the entrance, I taught you better than that.” he smiled widely at you. Alice was looking at you then at Alastor, seeming confused. You sighed before helping your friend standing up. “ Is there a place we could talk about getting rid of the trash?” asked Alastor with a beaming grin.
Alice seemed to come back to herself, and she tugged you to her father’s office. She locked the door behind Alastor, staring at you.
“ Explanation ?”
“ Nothing too serious. You’ve been caught in a big scoop Alice, and you need us to clean the mess you’ve made!” you paled, asking Alastor how did he know, did the bastard already told everyone? “ Oh dear, no, but from Alice’s expression, the only things that could make her so upset would be you or her lovely Alyzée. I took a lucky guess.”
“ Alastor, you are… your father… oh… that explains so much.” Alice let herself drop on her father’s chair. “ So, that’s why you didn’t want me to help to look for his father, because he killed him?” asked Alice, looking at you, confused.
“ We killed him.”
“ Of course you did.” she sighed, putting her head on the desk. “ I need.. a fucking glass of whiskey, I’m not having this conversation sober.” She took a bottle from the cabinet before sitting back in front of you. She poured herself after giving you and Alastor a glass. “ So, let me get this through, you both killed Alastor’s father and now you want to kill the man who knows I’m in love with Alyzée?”
“ Well, Alice, for once you made your brain work. I would almost be shedding a tear if I cared.” said Alastor as he sipped his drink. “ And furthermore, this man is a pig that needs to be slaughtered.”
You felt relaxed. You didn’t know why, but the fact that Alastor was referring to the man as a pig made you feel even less remorse than you could have felt.
“ What are you winning from this?”
“ Nothing–”
“ Doll, I know you don’t want to manipulate me. I know. I’m talking about your murderous husband. He wouldn’t help me freely.”
“ Using your brain for the second time? What a day folks ! It’s simple really, you are at the head of one of the richest families in Louisiana. Having you on my side is a plus.”
“ I’m already at your side–!”
“ No Alice, you could be cutting yourself to prove your faith and I would still doubt you. But a crime, that is a win-win situation. The pig is slaughtered, you are free, my darling and myself are doing what we need and everything is back to normal!” exclaimed Alastor with his usual smile.
“ … Fine.”
As Alice and Alastor were talking about the contract, you felt shivers down your spine. You closed your eyes, trying to comprehend what was happening. You don’t know why but you remembered Legba’s words. You need to trust your instincts. You couldn’t hear Alice and Alastor anymore, you could hear footsteps… You could hear…a shovel digging into the ground.
“ Darling?”
You gasped as you felt Alastor hand on your shoulder. What just happened ? They both were looking at you, worried.
“ I’m okay.. I just.. I’m okay.” you nodded, feeling extremely tired all of the sudden. “ Alastor… Where is your father's corpse?”
“ Six feet underground.”
“ I think.. I think we should check it out.”
“ Why dig up dirt from the past?”
“ Because I think someone is trying to dig him up.”
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The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 7
[chap six] | [all chapters here]
summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…
notes & tropes: fem reader, slow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers
a/n: Sooo, I did not mean to take a three week hiatus from this fic :) I had so much of this chapter written within a couple of days and then abruptly stopped writing entirely, literally couldn't work on any of my stories. But now the writers block has passed and we FINALLY have an update, and boy these chapters just keep getting longer as the story goes on. I hope this one makes up from my recent absence~
wc: 6.6k
Chapter Seven
Wednesday morning was supposed to start like it always did - small talk with your mom over a bowl of cereal and then running out the door before the conversation whittled down to awkwardness. You wish you could appreciate your mother’s efforts to try to connect with you, but she never asked about anything beyond school and skating - once those two subjects were exhausted, it was as if you two had nothing more to talk about.
But today was different. Today, your dad was actually sitting at the breakfast table instead of rushing to his office before you even came downstairs. Today, your head was a little fuzzy from drinking the night before. Today, you wished you had just run out the door and skipped breakfast, because you could see right away that your parents wanted to have a conversation.
You paused briefly in the kitchen entry, looking between the two before trying to act casual, walking towards the pantry and preparing a quick breakfast. You could feel their eyes following you, and damn did you wish someone would just say something. Your father always acted like this before a serious conversation - he stayed silent to intimidate you, to put you on edge in hopes that it would make you more pliable to what he had to say. You’d always assumed he did this to clients and business associates as well, as if to suggest some kind of dominance over them. Well, you weren’t going to let it get to you that easily, you never did before.
You sat at the opposite end of the table from your father, your mom hovering at the kitchen sink although there were no dishes to be cleaned. You started to eat as if you were totally unphased by their watchful eyes, as if you were entirely oblivious to their stares, although you knew neither of them bought the act for a second. One of you was going to cave eventually, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be you.
Sure enough, your mom spoke first as she approached the table, just like you expected her to, “You have practice after school today?”
You gave her a critical look before nodding - you knew that she knew you always skated on Wednesday, making that a pretty pathetic attempt at breaking the tension in the room.
“Are you actually going?” Your father asked in an accusatory tone, although he maintained a neutral expression so as not to give away what he was thinking.
You couldn’t help the mean look in your eyes as you met his intense gaze. Your tone was stubborn and cold, “Yes.”
“And will that boy be there?” The disdain in your father’s words was clear as day. Your brow knotted at the question, both because you didn’t like his tone and because you wondered how he found out about Eddie already.
“Boy?” Your tone was mocking - you weren’t feigning ignorance, but rather presenting your father with a challenge, daring him to elaborate on what had gotten his mood so twisted. And it was clear in his face that he didn’t appreciate your attitude one bit.
“Mrs. Redford saw you two together on Friday.” Your mother chimed in, hoping to serve as the calm mediary considering that you and your father were both intense, mean people.
Of course it was Mrs. Redford who told your mom about Eddie - she was such a damn gossip, and with her daughter participating in your skating lessons, you should have known she would have noticed you leaving with Eddie that night. She was drawn to drama and gossip as if it was the air she breathed, so it was certainly no surprise that she ran off to tell your parents about this new boy that she spotted you with.
“Why does it matter?” You dropped your spoon in the forgotten breakfast that sat in front of you, slouching into your seat in growing frustration.
“Because he’s clearly a troublemaker.” Your dad’s tone matched yours, causing you to roll your eyes, “Don’t you dare roll your eyes at me.”
Your jaw clenched at the threat in his voice, “How could you possibly know someone is trouble without even meeting them?”
Your father pressed his palm to the table firmly, “Because I know his type - a lazy punk only interested in skating by and disrespecting the establishment. I’m a good judge of character.”
“How?” You insisted with exasperation, causing your father to look down on you as if you were some stupid kid.
“You were out way past curfew last night - were you with him?” Your dad glowered, and evidently your expression gave him the answer he wanted, “You ran out the door without telling your mother where you were going or who you were with. She saw you climb into some van, for Christ sake. And the way Mrs. Redford described this hoodlum? The leather, the hair, the tattoos? What’s gotten into you?”
You held your ground firmly, glaring as you crossed your arms, “I don’t see what the issue is.”
“The issue is you’re acting out, you’re avoiding us, and this boy you’re seeing seems to be encouraging this behavior!” Your father raised his voice, “I don’t care that you’re eighteen now, you still live under my roof.”
“You don’t care about anything!” You can’t help but shout back, “You only care now because you’re worried I’ll make you look bad. You’re worried about stupid gossip!”
“That’s not what this is about!”
“We’re just worried about you,” Your mother tried to intervene in an even tone, drawing the attention of the both of you, “We don’t want you to lose sight of what’s important just because of a boy.”
You throw up your hands in defiance, your voice harsh, “What important things am I ‘losing sight of!?’”
“Don’t take that tone with your mother!” Your dad jumped back in, “The last thing you need your senior year is some punk distracting you from school, from skating. You need to consider your future. Don’t you want to get into a good school? Don’t you want to skate?”
“I don’t know what I want!” You admitted angrily, “Maybe I don’t want to go to college or skate or do the shit you tell me to! Maybe I just want to enjoy life a little.”
“Enjoying life doesn’t get you anywhere.” Your father glared, “We tell you these things to help you. So, stop hanging around this boy and start focusing on your future.”
“You didn’t care what I was doing before, why do you care now?” You challenged coldly, “You didn’t care when I was out late with Duncan, you didn’t care when I’d miss practice because I’d be out with Amelia or Janet. You only care now because it’s Eddie.”
You instantly realized you shouldn’t have mentioned his name. Not yet, at least, not in the middle of this argument. Yes, you wanted your parents to know you were “dating” some new, troublesome guy, but you didn’t want them to actually know who he was yet - you had hoped to build up a little more suspense first, a little more tension between you all. You hoped your face didn’t give away what you were thinking.
“Eddie?” Your father laughed as he said the name, “You call things off with this Eddie now, do you hear me?”
You looked between your parents’ faces - your father looked as stern and condescending as ever, and your mom looked like she was away somewhere in thought. Perhaps she was trying to pinpoint any Eddies she’d heard of before and figure out who the hell he is.
A frustrated sound leapt from your throat as you rose to your feet aggressively, the legs of your chair making a grating sound on the floor.
“Whatever,” You spun around to leave, seeing the time on the wall clock before shooting your parents a mocking look, “I’m going to be late. Great job getting me back on track.”
You knew just how rude your tone was, so you practically ran out of the kitchen to avoid your father’s wrath.
“Excuse me!?” His offended voice shouted after you. You scooped up your school bag and your car keys, running out the door without looking back.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
Just like you suspected, you were late for your first period class, receiving a reprimanding from your teacher, which only served to piss you off even more. Today just wasn’t your fucking day. So, by the time you walked into your math class a couple hours later, it was actually something of a relief to see Eddie already there; why you were actually pleased to see him was a thought you weren’t quite ready to entertain.
He grinned once he spotted you, but the way you flopped into your seat caused his face to immediately twist with curiosity. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his legs situated in the aisle between you two.
“Feeling hungover, princess?” He asked with only a small jest in his tone, as if he could tell that you weren’t in the mood right now. His eyebrows furrowed together as you glared, although you knew he wasn’t the one that deserved the cold look.
“No.” You groaned, your jaw clenched tight enough to hurt your teeth. You sighed through your nose, trying to collect yourself - it was stupid to let this frustration eat at you, although you were always prone to holding onto grudges.
Eddie nudged your knee softly, so you met his eyes again. He stared at you patiently and inquisitively, “So, what’s wrong?”
You considered for a moment whether or not you wanted to tell him. With a sigh, you sat up in your seat, turning so that you mirrored Eddie, legs in the aisle and knees brushing his. You let your knees rest there, allowing the small amount of contact as if you needed it to ground you, as if you even enjoyed it.
“It’s my parents.” You start, looking down at where your knees met his. Your skirt was short and his jeans were ripped, so you were skin-to-skin. It didn’t matter, of course, you were simply trying to find something else to focus on, “They aren’t thrilled about you.”
“Oh, so you told them?” Eddie gave you a small grin, hoping to lighten your mood a little. And you wouldn’t admit it, but it was already beginning to work.
“One of my neighbors saw us together.” The bell rang in the middle of your sentence, but neither of you faced forward, eyes staying locked on one another.
“You seem pretty worked up about it.” His quiet tone had a hint of question to it, clearly wondering what exactly happened with your parents. Your teacher began going down the attendance sheet and the focus of today’s lesson.
“My dad’s a dick.” You responded in a whisper, “Just grilling me about shit - about you - as if I were a damn criminal or something.”
The sound of your name on your teacher’s lips drew your attention, and you harshly met her stare, “Would you two like to join the class now?”
You rolled your eyes as Eddie smiled lazily, the both of you turning to face forward. He reached out to give your knee one more playful nudge, as if to assure you that all would be well.
As the teacher began her lesson, you and Eddie kept stealing glances at one another conspiratorially, which helped to slowly ease the tension in your shoulders, to slowly relax your mood. After another couple of minutes, Eddie held a folded piece of paper between the two of you, obviously intending for you to read it. You slyly took it from him, fingers brushing against his as you wondered what he possibly had to say right now.
I think I can win him over.
The silly little doodle accompanying the note emphasized the joke, and you couldn’t help but grin at it just a little. You side-eyed Eddie, catching the way he smiled mischievously at you. With a roll of your eyes, you scribbled down a reply and handed it to him.
All the charm in the world wouldn’t win him over.
You watched Eddie’s face out of the corner of your eye, awaiting his reply with a hint of eagerness. The note was back in your hand once again.
So you admit I’m charming?
A small huff of a laugh escaped you as you rolled your eyes, beginning to write a response. But a presence walking down the aisle drew your attention, noticing your teacher was walking right to you. Your stomach dropped a little, realizing you were caught, but you simply looked up at her as if you did nothing wrong.
“Is there something you two would like to share with everyone?” She asked accusatory, crossing her arms in reprimand. You held her eyes with a challenging stare - god, this day just kept giving you hit after hit.
“Nothing in particular.” You retorted, hearing someone in the room make a nonplussed sound. Your teacher glowered at your attitude.
“Then I suggest you follow along or take this little conversation to detention.”
You gave her a mean, mocking smile, baring your teeth almost as if it was a threat, “I’ll take the detention, please.”
Again, more surprised sounds from the teacher and from students. You dared to look over at Eddie, who looked both taken aback and impressed at how difficult you were being today.
“Excuse me?” Your teacher challenged you.
Your eyes were dark as you stood your ground, “Detention. Please.”
The teacher looked between both you and Eddie with a huff, but a moment later a decisive look crossed her features, which put you on edge.
“Fine, if that’s how you want it to be. You can go to detention. Mr. Munson will stay here.” You gaped, your eyes glaring at the back of her head as she turned to walk back towards her desk, “No point in sending the both of you, right?”
You hated the fact that even your teacher was now mocking you, resented the fact that this day just kept piling more shit on your shoulders. You shared a look with Eddie, who looked sorry for landing you in trouble; you thought that you should’ve been upset at him for it, but you weren’t. It seemed like Eddie was the only person not getting on your last nerve today.
You rose to your feet as your teacher walked back towards you, a slip of paper in her hand outstretched to you. Haphazardly, you threw all your belongings in your bag before aggressively snatching the note from your teacher.
“You give that to the detention attendant, I don’t want to hear that you ran out on it.” She instructed with that hint of satisfaction in her tone. You glowered back at her.
“Bite me.” You spun on your heels as various students made, yet again, sounds of excitement at the harsh tone and words you threw at the teacher. As she started spewing some kind of reprimand that you weren’t listening to, you marched out of the room.
What a fucking day. You stomped down the hall, steam practically coming from your ears with how pissed off you were. In annoyance, you balled up the detention slip and tossed it at the nearest trash can, although you missed, which irritated you even more.
You’d never gotten detention before. Under different circumstances, you probably would have been thrilled to be sent to detention, to finally be enough trouble for a teacher to send you off. But after the morning you’ve been having, all you could feel was frustration.
Less than a minute after you stomped out of math class, you heard a door swing open and hit a wall somewhere behind you, prompting you to turn towards the noise. And once you saw who it was, you couldn’t help but smile with a surprising sense of glee.
Eddie Munson, your knight in shining armor.
He dashed down the hall to catch up with you, smiling just as widely as you were as he practically skidded to a halt in front of you. A small laugh escaped you as he hunched over in an attempt to catch his breath. He looked up at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
“Let’s get out of here.” He instructed simply, grabbing your wrist and dragging you down the hall with him. You allowed yourself to be led through the school, your smile settling into a simple, pleased smirk, relieved to have Eddie’s company.
“And where are we off to?” You asked, receiving a shrug from Eddie. Once you two had turned into a new hallway, he slowed so you could walk side-by-side, experimentally sliding his hand into yours. Once again, you still felt hesitant at more intimate contact such as this, but you allowed it without cringing too hard.
“Anywhere but here, you troublemaker.” He teased with a content smile, guiding you towards the school exit.
“So, we’re skipping?” You inquired, and you had to admit the idea really appealed to you right now - you’d had enough of today, and if you didn’t escape you thought you might explode with utter frustration.
“If that’s alright with you, princess.” Eddie gave you a silly expression while bumping your shoulder.
“Please get me the hell out of here.”
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The most time you’d ever spent in a video arcade was for one pathetic round of Galaga while on a date with a boy your freshman year. Following that, you decided arcades weren’t for you - they were always crowded with a bunch of kids running around and shouting, and you’d branded all the adults that spent time at arcades as total losers. What could possibly be so appealing about games designed for children?
So, when Eddie pulled up in front of the Palace Arcade, you gave him a critical look, which he chose to ignore entirely as he stepped out of the van. He rounded to your side and opened the door, offering you a hand like a royal stepping out of a coach. You looked between his hand and his face for a moment, still judging the choice to come to an arcade. Reading the look on your face all too well, Eddie pulled his own affronted expression.
“What, too good for arcade games?” He put on an over-the-top, almost Shakespearean tone while placing a melodramatic hand to his chest, “But I’ve brought you to the Palace, the finest establishment in town for the ice princess.”
You rolled your eyes and tried not to laugh at him, unwilling to admit that even Eddie’s dumbest jokes were starting to win you over. Nonetheless, you took his outstretched hand with a large sigh, stepping out of the van despite your lack of interest in this place. Eddie, of course, smiled triumphantly, closing the door behind you and leading you into the arcade.
Given that it was only about noon, the place was virtually dead, which was quite the relief - no need to worry about loud, annoying kids getting in the way. Aside from the two of you and the Palace employee, there was a group of three college-aged boys clustered around Frogger and a lone man focused on something called Paperboy. None of the patrons looked up when you and Eddie entered, and the only reason the employee took any note of you is because it was simply his job. Of course, once he spotted you, he did a double-take.
The employee’s jaw hung slack as if in disbelief, and he nervously greeted you two, trying to keep his attention on Eddie. It appeared that the two were familiar with one another, and you wondered if Eddie really spent that much time here or if maybe this was a guy that used to go to school with the two of you. Either way, their interaction wrapped up quickly, and Eddie dragged you to the change machine.
As Eddie inserted a few bills, you looked around at the other arcade patrons, who finally seemed to take notice of you. In the group near Frogger, one of the boys nudged his friends, insisting they both look up; none so subtly, they all looked at you as the music from their arcade cabinet seemed to signal game over. You looked back with a raised brow and cold eyes, causing them all to quickly look away, although you were certain you’d probably catch them spying again. As you gazed back at Eddie, you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your lips - there was something about being the only chick in the arcade that amused you, something about being totally out of place and totally out of Eddie’s league.
Eddie stashed the change in his pocket, holding out a few quarters that you tentatively took from his hand.
“What first, princess?” You looked at him with a judgmental expression, causing him to narrow his eyes critically, “Come on, this’ll be fun.”
“Sure…” You looked around and assessed the arcade, pointing at the nearest cabinet without any consideration, “That one.”
Eddie huffed out a laugh at your choice while shaking his head, knowing you didn’t care one bit what game you started with, “Dig Dug, huh?”
You made another face at him, so he simply rolled his eyes and led you towards the game. He leaned against the cabinet while crossing his arms, giving you an expectant look; in turn, your brow scrunched.
Eddie shrugged, “Well, go for it - this one was your idea.”
“I don’t want to.” You responded as if affronted by the suggestion, “You play.”
Eddie once again rolled his eyes with an exacerbated grin, “I don’t play Dig Dug.”
“Then play something else.” You instructed stubbornly.
“You aren’t getting out of this one.” Eddie countered, motioning towards the cabinet he still rested against, “So, be a big girl and play the game.”
You gaped at his response, feeling a slight stir at his word choice. There was a challenging glint in his eyes that suggested he wasn’t going to back down easily, that he could volley with you all damn day. As you closed your mouth with a small purse to your lips, you looked around the arcade with a raised brow.
“I don’t want to play that one.” You crossed your arms, to which Eddie once more smirked at your stubborn determination.
“Then choose a different one.” He responded while mimicking your body language.
You narrowed your eyes at him before your gaze studied the rows of arcade cabinets, recognizing none of the names. This was something you were grossly uneducated on, arcades making just about as much sense to you as a foreign language. It wasn’t until you finally recognized the name of one that you allowed yourself to meet Eddie’s stare again.
“Okay. That one.” You once again pointed past his shoulder, so Eddie twisted around to see which cabinet finally caught your interest. A faint laugh escaped him as he looked back to you with an amused expression across his face.
“Oh, you wouldn’t like Donkey Kong.” His tone seemed to be daring you to argue, to prove him wrong. You pulled another face at him.
“I don’t like any of these. But I’ve seen that stupid monkey before.” Eddie shrugged in acceptance of your response as he continued to grin, pushing off the Dig Dug cabinet.
“If you insist.” He taunted while turning to walk towards Donkey Kong, you following behind him with a huff. But as you were nearly there, the gang of college kids beat you to it, causing both you and Eddie to halt; he began to turn to you, prepared to ask what the new plan was now that the one cabinet you showed interest in was taken.
Of course, you weren’t about to have that. Sure, you didn’t care an ounce about these video games and you had zero interest in actually playing, but you’d already had enough today, and you’d be damned if you let these guys play Donkey Kong instead of you. So, you brushed past Eddie with a determined look, marching up to them with all the authority in the world.
“Excuse you,” You started rudely, drawing all their eyes in your direction. None of the three really looked like the nerdy type, so none of them backed down from you the way that you were used to, “I’m playing that one.”
They shared a laugh, clearly amused by your attempt to intimidate them. One of the boys countered, “You’re outta luck, we were here first.”
You insisted more firmly, “Just move.”
One of them looked between you and Eddie, provoked by your attitude, “There’s a whole arcade, go find something else to play.”
They returned to the arcade cabinet as if you weren’t even there, which pissed you off even more. You groaned loudly, looking at Eddie and pointing harshly at the boys as if there was something he could possibly do about them. He simply shook his head and grabbed your elbow, lightly tugging you along.
“They beat us to it.” He said as if there was some unspoken arcade rule that you weren’t familiar with. You glared at the boys as Eddie led you down the row, grinning as if to calm you down, “Come on, I got something I think you’ll like.”
“Doubtful.” You countered like a child, catching the way Eddie smiled to himself, both amused and enervated by your attitude. The two of you came to a halt in front of something called Tapper, and you glanced up at Eddie, awaiting an explanation.
“This one’s easy,” he started while presenting the cabinet to you, “Just serve drinks.”
“Okay…” You took in the pixelated graphics on the screen, hesitantly holding up a coin as you considered the game.
“Come on, just give it a try.” Eddie urged. You looked at the simple instructions next to the joystick while finally loading the coin into the machine. As the game began, Eddie turned his attention to the next cabinet over.
Eddie was right about this game being easy, at least for the first few rounds, although once you reached the first “game over” screen you groaned with frustration. That didn’t stop you from inserting another coin and trying again, much to Eddie’s amusement. You were getting the hang of this and, although you weren’t ready to admit it, you were coming to even enjoy Tapper.
Eventually, you ran out of coins, so you returned your attention to Eddie, who had been caught up in his own game. You watched him for a few moments before realizing the college boys were no longer at the Donkey Kong cabinet. Although you shouldn’t have cared so much, you nonetheless felt a sudden eagerness to run over and hog the game you previously missed out on. Hell, you didn’t even know what that game was about, but considering your previous snub, you now simply had to play this damn game.
So, you turned your gaze back to Eddie, who was incredibly focused on the shooting game he was in the middle of, “Donkey Kong is open.”
“So, go play.” He responded with a far off tone, clearly caught up in what he was doing.
“I don’t have any coins.”
In an almost silly motion, Eddie nudged his hip in your direction, “I have some in my pocket.”
You looked down towards his hips, wondering why he didn’t simply pull his hand from the game for a moment to give you a few coins.
Impatiently, his eyes flicked over to you for only a moment; he could tell what you were thinking, “Just reach in and grab a few.”
“Uh, no.” Your voice oozed with attitude.
“Then no Donkey Kong.” He replied with a simple shrug. With a slight glare, you looked between his face and the screen, watching his hectic game for a few long moments. Your gaze drifted back towards Donkey Kong with a mild longing, but you quickly righted yourself - you did not care that much about a stupid arcade game. You could wait until Eddie was done, you didn’t need to play it that bad.
The sound of the front door opening drew your attention as a new man entered the arcade, and your first thought was “shit, is he going to play Donkey Kong?” Why the hell did you care so much? But you couldn’t risk missing out on the game again, so you returned your attention back to Eddie, taking him by total surprise as you reached into his pocket and extracted a handful of coins quickly before you could think about how intimate that action was.
“Jesus, warn a guy before you go digging around in his pants.” Eddie chided with a playful grin, not allowing his gaze to stray from the shooter in front of him.
“Shut up.” You countered while marching towards Donkey Kong, determination etched across your face as you relished in the stupid victory of finally being about to play this damn game.
Of course, you very quickly learned why Eddie had told you before that you wouldn’t like Donkey Kong. Your dumb little man in overalls lost all his lives within the first minute of you playing, and you let out an exasperated sigh as you slapped your hand down on the control panel. With a glare, you loaded another coin in, but due to your frustration you died even quicker than you had the first time, letting out another upset sound before you marched away from Donkey Kong as if the game had personally offended you.
Eddie was still focused on Robotron as you returned to his side with a huff, the sound causing the corner of his mouth to pull up. You glared at his face, “That game is stupid.”
“I told you.” He answered simply, amused by how easily you gave up on it.
“Why doesn’t it work?”
“Have you considered that you’re just bad at it?” Eddie’s eyes briefly look at you, that annoying grin of his not faltering for a moment. Your glare darkened as you turned to walk off, but Eddie’s voice stopped you from going anywhere, “Oh, come on, just wait. I’ll show you how to play the stupid monkey game.”
So, you waited impatiently for Eddie’s game to end, your eyes repeatedly drifting over to Donkey Kong as if in fear that someone else would take the machine from you. Once he was finally done with Robotron, Eddie gave you a teasing look, knowing that you were eager to return to the game that you supposedly didn’t like. With an adamant look, you spun around and marched back towards the machine, knowing that he was following right behind you.
“Just watch, I’ll play the first level for you.” Eddie instructed while loading in the money. He craned his neck back and forth, shaking out his arm as if he were warming up for some epic fight; you nearly smiled, but kept it to yourself. You leaned over Eddie’s shoulder a little as he began, “You have to be fast - this machine has a bit of a lag, so you need to think ahead.”
So, you watched Eddie play, annoyed at just how easy he made it look; evidently, he had a fair amount of practice. And with the first level completed in what appeared to be record time, Eddie stepped back, yanking you quickly in front of the screen to take over the controls. Just as quickly as the level started, though, you lost a life, jumping right into the line of a pixelated enemy. A frustrated noise left you, causing Eddie to laugh from behind you.
“You’ve got two more lives,” He stepped up closer to you, reaching around to put his hand over the jump button, “Lemme help.”
Working together, you managed to make a little bit of progress, but you all too quickly lost again, shoving the joystick in the wrong direction. As you huffed in annoyance once more, Eddie placed his free hand on the small of your back as if to remind you to calm down, the touch nearly causing you to jump from its gentleness.
“Okay, new plan.” Eddie stepped behind you, close enough that your back bumped against his chest. Your shoulders stiffened as he settled his hands on top of yours, your heart skipping as you realized you were pinned between him and the stupid Donkey Kong machine. Thank god he was behind you, because otherwise he would’ve seen the way your cheeks went red, the way your eyes widened with surprise.
You could feel Eddie’s breath against your ear, practically causing you to shudder, “Alright, let’s do this.”
As the level started again, you were grateful that Eddie was taking the reins, controlling your hands with his own, because your brain was way too jumbled to think clearly. Why the hell were you so nervous? How was Eddie Munson doing this to you? You were certain it had more to do with your disdain for people touching you, but you were far too confused to even begin to entertain why you felt so anxious with Eddie practically flush against your back.
You were so zoned out that you hadn’t even realized that the level was complete until Eddie stepped back, a victorious little laugh escaping him. Before you had time to even get your head on straight, the third level began, but you all too quickly fumbled, your game coming to a pathetic end. Composing yourself, you meet Eddie’s eyes with total coolness, hoping that the redness of your cheeks had gone away. His expression didn’t seem to indicate that he noticed anything off about you, so you took a deep breath.
“Help me again.” You instructed as you fished a coin from your pocket. Eddie looked mildly surprised by the instruction, as if he too was just realizing how intimate his assistance was the first time. You simply raised a brow at him while loading the machine with money, straightening your shoulders as he came up behind you once again.
You tried to focus on the game this time as Eddie placed his hands on top of yours again, doing your best to ignore how warm he was behind you, the way his cheek brushed against the crown of your head, how his grip on your hands seemed to be a little bit more firm. You took a couple of deep breaths and focused, approaching this the same way you did skating - with attentiveness to the goal. And your goal was to ignore Eddie and actually beat a level of this god damn monkey game.
So, you watched your little man run and jump across the screen studying the timing as Eddie moved your hands with his own, noting the subtle delay between the control command and the character movement on the screen. Even as you began to understand, you still recognized that it wasn’t going to be easy for you to beat as a total novice to gaming. As the first level came to an end, Eddie began to step back, his hands hovering just over yours, but you turned your head quickly, practically bumping foreheads as he stopped pulling away.
“Wait, one more round.” You instructed, his face so close to yours that you practically went cross-eyed trying to meet his gaze. You saw Eddie’s jaw clench slightly before you faced forward again, his hands settling on top of yours once way.
By the time you two completed the second level, you were grinning triumphantly, satisfied that you were winning, even if only because Eddie was helping you. As the screen went black for a brief moment, you glanced at the content expression of Eddie behind you, feeling his chin move against your head as he, too, smiled largely.
Instead of pulling away, Eddie asked simply, “One more?”
You hummed in agreement as the third level started, once more studying Eddie’s timing as he breezed through the game as if he’d played it a hundred times. For all you knew, he probably had. Just like with his guitar, Eddie’s hands moved with expertise, guiding yours with ease as you two once again completed the course on screen. This time, you let Eddie step back, feeling a little nervous as you realized you had to face Donkey Kong alone again. You also felt a very mild wave of disappointment, but you quickly shoved that aside so you could focus on your game.
But, of course, you struggled without Eddie’s assistance, fumbling the jump time and losing a life. You took a deep breath through your nose as you tried to focus, feeling Eddie’s gaze burning into you as the level started over. You tried to ignore the intensity of his stare as you started again, running through the level as fast as you could. You managed to get much farther than before, but you nonetheless made another mistake.
You looked towards Eddie, prepared to ask him for help, but he shut you down before you got a word out, “Oh no, you wanted to play this, remember? I can’t keep playing for you.”
You pouted only for a moment, returning your attention to the screen, trying and failing once more to beat the game. You threw your head back with an annoyed groan, stepping away from Donkey Kong while crossing your arms.
“I don’t see why people play this stupid game, it’s impossible.” You whined, causing Eddie to laugh while rolling his eyes.
“That’s the point - it’s challenging. You can’t be a winner all the time.” He teased while dipping his head down closer to yours, seeing right through your frustrations. To Eddie, it was obvious that you weren’t used to losing, and he loved how worked up you were getting over an arcade game of all things.
“If I’m not going to win, then I don’t want to play.” You countered childishly, your eyebrow raised as if daring him to comment on that. You spun on your heel and began to walk away from the offensive game cabinet, hearing Eddie following behind you.
“That’s part of the fun, ya know.” He started. You half expected him to sling his arm over your shoulders as he normally did, but this time he refrained, as if all that contact during Donkey Kong was just a little too much for one day. You threw him a look.
“Well, it’s not fun for me.” You weren’t sure where the hell you were walking off to considering that there wasn’t anywhere in the Palace to hide, but you were too caught up in simply being stubborn. Eddie laughed, rolling his eyes with a hint of fondness as he lightly snagged your arm and stopped you. You met eyes, Eddie grinning at your attitude that he was quickly becoming accustomed to.
“You say that now, but I guarantee you’ll be asking me to bring you back.” He teased, receiving a small glare from you in response. He shook his head a little, “Let’s go, your pouting is making this no fun.”
You could tell Eddie was just taunting you, so you gave his shoulder a small shove while pulling away from his hold. You wouldn’t dare admit that you actually had some fun, so instead you began for the exit, your tone nonchalant as you responded, “Thank god, if I stay here any longer the nerds might try to convert me.”
Behind you, Eddie shook his head fondly as he followed you out.
.
.
additional a/n: shoutout to Tapper for being my favorite arcade game
taglist: @a-queen-blr @avalon-wolf @costellation-hunter @daisy-munson
@daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie @delilaaahhh @eddiernunson
@em0220 @frogtape @fromasgardandback @fckyeahlames @kthomps914
@lotrefcp @love-anonymous-writer @marrowfrog00 @mewchiili @miaajaade
@munsonssweets @no-bueno-writer @rach5ive @sav12321 @sheneedsrocknroll92
@steeldaisies @stormgrl19
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just saw ur “txt as your younger brother” but now i NEED a “txt as your older brother” please 🫶🏻
a/n: hehe thank you for the request! i hope the little brother post was good. again...i am siblingless so i am going to try my best to make this realistic :D as always, requests are open!! please enjoy!!!
yeonjun
he is so incredibly protective as a big brother! i just wants to protect his little sister no matter what. it doesn't matter is you're 5 or 70, big brother yeonjun will come to the rescue. he is also the type of brother that will whine when you talk about boys because he cannot fathom his little sister runnig around with guys that probably aren't even worth your time! he always does his best to make time for you, especially when he becomes an idol. he always makes sure to go all out on birthdays and special occasions like graduations. oh my god...if you graduate from uni...baby will go all out and buy you a FUCKING CAR??? a fancy one too because 'only the best for my annoying little sister!'
soobin
he's mildly protective but that's only because your dad made him promise to always protect you. he has intentions of making god on his promise. you two are only a year apart but you two are basically twins because of how inseperable you are. as kids, you'd always play together outside and when you would get hurt, he would drop everything and run to you. he is also a big brother that would give you his share of something if you really wanted it. for exmaple, if your parents got you both ice cream and he got the one you wanted, just say the words and it's all yours. as you grow older, he makes sure to take you out and makes sure you know he cares even if he can't spend lot's of time with you. when he reveals his sistee to moa, they're all in love with you and he's scolding them, 'yah! that's my baby sister! she's mine!'
beomgyu
I know i always make beomgyu the silly one but he takes his big brother duties very seriously. like...so seriously that you questions wether he's your dad or big brother. when he becomes an ido, he spends a good chunk of his first paycheck to send you to study abroad because you'd told him you'd wanted to do that while at college. he constantly checks in on you and makes sure you have everything you need. he's also a very affectionate big brother and doesn't care when you're shoving him away, 'don't kid yourself! you love me, little sis!' and you do. in your childhood, he would always get in trouble for hanging off of you even though you were smaller than him. he still get's swatted with thenkitchen towel when you both visit home for the same reason.
taehyun
more protective than your own dad. not in a bad way but you know what I mean. he is there for you through everything. when you're sick, he brings the food your mom makes you and stays in your room to keep you entertained and to make sure you eat it all. when you’re on your period, he always comes to your room and makes sure you have all the chocolate and hot drinks you could possibly need. he’s also the type of brother who would prefer to drive you wehter you driving yourself. even if it’s for a date, he drives you and makes sure to meet the guy. you two have a look that he gives you if the guy seems like bad news. he’ll stay behind and make sure you get home safely.
huening kai
a built in best friend. huening seems like a really sweet big brother and most definetly is a protector. he knows that as an idol, people online will criticize you and his older and younger sister but he always stands up for you three. he’s the type of brother that also says his friends are off limits but in reality, would probably prefer you date one of them because he alreay knows them well and trusts them. he makes sure you and his other sisters are always taken care of, especially if you decided not to persure a career in entertainment. if you’re the sibling who goes to uni to study, he will glady pay for all of your tuition and materials. he wants his little sister to be supported and cared for.
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A ramble on writing where April broke my heart
Hooo boi.
March was a dream in comparison to April.
Emergency gallbladder surgery? Someone faking their death in my server? Good times. I wanna go back.
I have been through much in three short months. April has shown that it's taken a toll. I have missed many more days of writing. I'm still missing them in May. But I'm slowly gripping onto the last vestiges of my raw determination, all while in the face of so much.
I had a falling out with my closest family member that shook me to the core of my heart. I barely slept for most of the month again. Gallbladder surgery has proven to have some complications on my nervous system, making normal daily life difficult where it's hard to sit or lie down without experiencing full body numbness and tingling in various areas, including my hands and fingers. (No, not blood clots. 100% without a doubt it's my nerves.)
If you've followed me here (post one and two) and have read my author's on Terrible, But Great Chapter 30, then you know what went down with my family member. It took so much of my time and energy. I wrote well over 8,000 words trying to reason with this family member, only for all of it to be scorned and mocked. A part of me feels like that energy was wasted. I could have 8,000 more words in TBG, but I don't. This is all I have.
A part of me looks at it and says, "Give it back. Give me back my writing." What happened to January? Or even February? What happened to the girl who could wake up at 4am in the morning, an hour before she had to leave for her hysteroscopy, to power write 700 words?
Some days, I go up the stairs and I'm winded like I ran a marathon.
Some days, if I walk on the treadmill for more than 6 to 10 minutes, I feel like I'm dying.
It's been an uphill battle. The struggle is real, but so am I.
In the last week of December of 2023, when I realized how long it would take me to finish Terrible, But Great, I was overcome with what I call 'The Stirring.' I don't know what else to call it, but it always has an air of mystery and premonition for what it is to come. I thought at that time, "If I had limited time to live, what do I want to do?"
"I want to write."
So, I did.
In 2023, I published a total of 43,000 words in TBG. In 2024, from January to April, I've written 110,604 words and have published 35,000 words thus far. The year isn't even halfway over and I've done better this year than I have last year.
In spite of it all, I'm doing pretty damn good.
There's still hope. I'm not giving up. It might feel like morale is low, but it's not. I'm going to keep going as much as I can through all the hardships because writing is truly the one thing that breathes life into me.
By the end of April, I finished my business class with an essay about how the class shifted my beliefs. This class in combination with all of my health issues and social conflicts sparked an overwhelming revelation and a new rising determination within my soul.
You see, you all have witnessed my love and passion for writing Terrible, But Great, a Harry Potter fanfiction, but I also have original stories that I've wanted to write. Yet, I haven't been able to finish them because I'm always thinking about the market in the real world, instead of what I want and what the story wants. Fanfiction, I can do whatever the hell I want and yall are just gonna have to strap in and hold onto dear life cause it's gonna be a bumpy ride. Original novels, however, are done differently and I've often struggled due to so many factors.
I have ADHD. I am autistic. I have health issues which are rapidly piling up on top of each other. My career choice might not even be feasible for me in the long run, so why I am allowing myself to be pressured into doing more than I can handle with a class load?
I want to write. I want to write. I want to create.
Oh, how I want to create.
So, I will.
Two years ago, I gave up on my dream of writing original novels and earning a living through them. I've since repented of that notion. As I continue write Terrible, But Great, I'm also going to be working on my original novels on the side. Someday, perhaps, I'll be able to earn a living as a published author.
That's my realistic ideal.
I wrote 457 words today, May 9th. That's good enough. The goal this month is to write more than April. I can do that. On the days where prose is hard, I simply write my scene idea in a zero draft style. I don't worry about the prose; I'll fix it later. Every word counts. Every word can be changed. Every word can be made better.
Every word is good enough.
Until next month.
#mywriting#fanfic writer#fanfiction writer#writing#tomarry#hp#hp fanfic#harry potter#tom riddle#fanfiction#fanfic#terrible but great#2024 writing goal update#writer#2024 writing goals#isa's ramblings#isa's thoughts#isa's writing
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can i ask about your thoughts about this vertigo-esque storyline with eddie and what do you think buck's role in this?
oh boy, this is a long one. i'm sorry in advance.
i'll be honest, i haven't watched that movie so i don't feel too confident speaking on this, but i'm not really worried.
from what i have gathered, it's a story about a retired detective, scottie, who is hired to follow the wife of his acquaintance, madeleine, and he becomes increasingly obsessed with her. he learns that she visits a grave of her grandmother, who committed s**c*de, and he is worried she is possessed by her ghost. he then rescues her when she attempts to jump from a bridge. they spend some time together, and then at some point she runs up the bell tower, and scottie can't follow her because he has a fear of heights, so he essentially watches her plunge to her death, and as a result, he spirals into depression.
so, up until this point, the only common theme between this story and eddie's is that the women they are in love with die, and both of them have a hard time dealing with it. i don't think there is anything else, but if someone who actually watched the movie wishes to correct me, please do.
later, scottie encounters a woman named judy who bears a striking resemblance to madeleine, and he becomes obsessed with transforming her into the image of his lost love because he is convinced that will allow him to overcome his grief.
so, this is basically what we see happening with eddie right now. he meets kim, and he is so struck by her resemblance to shannon he can't help himself but think he can rebuild with her what he had with shannon. so, he makes some questionable choices by telling her he's single, going on a date with her, and lying about it not only to marisol but also to buck and chris. we obviously haven't seen him trying to transform kim into shannon (i think at this moment he is only fascinated by her), but it is possible he is going to attempt to do so. maybe not in the same way scottie does, but perhaps in a more subtle way. he has looked for shannon in every relationship he has had so far. and now that he met her lookalike, he thinks that god gave him a second chance, and he doesn't want to waste it.
then, scottie learns that the acquaintance who originally hired him to follow madeleine actually orchestrated the whole thing. madeleine was never madeleine – she was judy. she was hired to impersonate his acquaintance's wife. they took advantage of scottie's fear of heights because they knew he wouldn't follow madeleine up the bell tower, and then the acquaintance killed his real wife (and she was the body that was thought to be madeleine/judy). madeleine/judy was never dead. scottie takes judy to the bell tower and confronts her about it. he overcomes his fear of heights so they are together on top now. at some point, a nun appears to investigate the noise and surprises judy, causing her to fall off the bell tower.
now we don't know yet what they are going to do with eddie and kim, but i don't think any of that is going to happen. we have to keep in mind those are two different stories. yes, they do share some common themes, but at their core, they are vastly different. i don't want to speculate about the outcome of it much because 911 always manages to surprise me, so i'll just leave it there.
but now on to the real question of this ask – what's buck's role in it? i suppose you have seen buddie shippers screaming from the rooftops that this is basically a confirmation that buddie will go canon because oliver/buck is mentioned on the poster as well (in a place where there originally is the name of the actress that plays midge, a character who is scottie's friend and who is in love with him). so, i guess everyone thinks there is going to be some kind of feelings realization (god do i hate this phrase) moment on buck's part and whatnot. SIGH.
well, first of all, i want to point out that midge's feelings are one-sided. and from what i've heard she does move on in the end. she and scottie do not end up together.
and second of all, i have said it already, but those are two completely different stories. the only common denominator is that in both cases, a male character becomes infatuated with a female character who eventually dies, and later on, they encounter their lookalike. for buck to be midge, there would have to be some already established romantic feelings for eddie on buck's part, and there simply aren't any. not in canon anyway. i don't think this is the time or place for "feelings realization".
i think buck is mentioned simply because he will be present in this arc, but certainly not in the way midge was. i think his role in it will be actually more important than that.
we know that he and kim do have a scene together. so i assume he's going to find out about eddie's shenanigans one way or another. i doubt eddie will tell him voluntarily, so i'm guessing he's going to run in on them somehow. and i don't think he's going to be happy. well, first of all, i think he's going to be confused. because what do you mean you're here with a woman who resembles your dead wife? but once he realizes what's going on, he's going to get a little angry. both for marisol, because this is NOT how you treat a woman you supposedly love (or any woman for that matter), and for himself, because eddie lied to him. and for chris, of course, don't get me started on that! one thing i'm pretty certain about is that he will be disappointed with him.
perhaps they'll also touch more on this honesty issue, actually. we all know buck is a pretty open and straightforward person, whereas eddie likes to keep things to himself unless he's directly asked about them. so, how this lie affects their friendship would definitely be very interesting to see.
either way, i think their bond will be a bit severed as a result of that. i don't think buck's going to support what eddie's doing and will call him out on it instead (will eddie fight back? that is quite possible, yes. and because of that they might take a longer time to patch things up). but they will make up eventually. if that's going to be this season or next, only time will tell. i also don't think buck will completely turn his back on eddie. he still has to work with him, and i think he's going to see him struggle, which will for sure hurt him inside. he might not support what he's doing, but he still cares about him after all. that's his best friend.
also, this is not really what i think will happen, but what i really hope to see – buck leaning on tommy throughout all of this, especially if it continues into the next episodes or even season 8. i think that would be a great way to kind of solidify their relationship. and if it continues into season 8 (which i doubt, but who knows?) i'd LOVE if tommy was encouraging buck to patch things up with eddie and perhaps encouraging eddie to patch things up with buck as well. i think that would introduce a great dynamic between all three of them.
#anon 🫶🏼#idk if i'm right but that's how i see it#you won't catch me giving in to the idea of romantic buddie that easily#911 speculation#911 abc#evan buckley#eddie diaz#bucktommy
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this would be torturous if it weren't so funny :)
#translation: i am focusing on the funny part because if i dont it WILL feel torturous#it is like one of them 1930s comedies where a girl who's doing her best (me) is doing her best to NOT run into boy#because you know you DO have to take measures to guard your heart when things are going off the rails. (i'm not happy about this but i know#it's good for me to at least not seek out every opportunity to see him.)#but who KEEPS running into boy because she keeps trying to not do it#today was the third or fourth time this week i think. Lord help meeeee#i had a >:O moment last sunday when i was congratulating myself on avoiding a 'coincidental' meeting i usually seek out#and was opening the door to leave and bam he was on the other side. i could've wept with hysterical laughter.#the waiting room chapter
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My favorite part about the first Trials of Apollo book was when they talked about the campers working out. I mean, YES!! I love working out, that was so fun to read about what the demigods do. You mean you drag the entire camp out of bed to go on a file mile run?? And do push ups and sit ups?? WOAH real camp life. Also I am biased because I am a distance runner so this was #relatable
#lester papadopoulos#trials of apoll#like seven year old Annabeth Chase on her first day of camp all stubborn trying to keep up with the big kids on the run#camp half blood is a running club#they probably ran the mile and were super competitive about it#I know that all the campers were not doing that#because there are a lot of kids who are stronger at other demigodly skills#but you know Clarisse and the Stoll brothers and Sherman Yang and Luke were probably battling it out#Luke Castellan out running Travis Stoll#and Connor Stoll made for his brother#Clarisse La Rue being super competitive towards the guys#but a bit nicer towards Annabeth since she is one of the only girls who is trying hard as H*ck to outrun the boys#runner lore hahah#not popular but I am having a good time#they run 5 miles in the morning#still not over it
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I don't share
Pairing: Possessive!König x Fem!Reader
Summary: König doesn't like sharing you, which is exactly why you had been married for almost ten years and none of his comrades knew about you. At least, not until he drunkenly spilled the beans and you showed up the next day with a box of cookies..
Warnings: Bondage! MDom! Doggy! CreamPie! OverStim! Oral(M2F)!
König was very secretive of his personal life on account of his social anxiety. He had been transfered to Task Force 141 for a while and had made pretty good friends with them, but of course, one night TF141 was making fun of him while drinking and in his own drunken haze he blurted out something that didn't go unnoticed,
"If you keep making fun of my wife, I'll kill you. Oh wait, that sounded like a joke; I will actually kill you."
He was very protective and possessive of you, which you didn't mind in the slightest. But he had accidently revealed that he had a wife, and everyone kept pestering him about it.
"I bet she's a strong lass aye? Big as an Ox! Only person that makes sense fer a mountain" Soaps slurred comment made him scoff as König kept sipping on his vodka, aggravated and embarrassed.
"What she do fer a living König? She a construction worker or somethin?"
König looked at Gaz with bewilderment. "A construction worker? where the hell did you get that? Gott.. Nein she's a baker."
Even Ghost was muttering how she probably had massive arms to carry 8 trays at once of protein bars. König kept to himself the rest of the night before returning home to you.
"Hi mein Liebe, I'm home." He pressed a kiss on your forehead, stripping off his tactical vest and mask then kicking off his boots.
"How was your night with the boys? Was it fun?"
He lied down on top of you, burying his face in your chest, crushing your small frame as he huffed annoyed.
"Kept making fun of you...Arschlöcher.. kept sayin you were a big burly lady.."
You snorted, running your fingers through his hair. You told him to ignore them because they didn't know what they were talking about, they were just trying to get a rise out of him.
He sighed, content in your arms as he fell into a drunken sleep on top of you, the crushing pressure more than welcomed.
The next day you decided to surprise König on base with a little gift. The guards of course did not believe that you were his wife so you pulled out the marriage certificate and your spouse ID card to shove it in their face. They were gob smacked as they discovered he had a wife and informed you he was currently at the cantina.
You were directed where to go, a box of chocolate chip cookies in had as you made your way there. Once inside, the place gradually got quiet as you made your way over to your husband giddy as his back faced you.
König was currently berating his friends about making fun of you again until he noticed that they weren't even paying attention, they were looking behind him.
He turned, and there you were, barely meeting his eye level while he was sitting, a box of cookies in hand adorned in a pleated pink skirt and a white tank top with a knit sweater and chunky white heels.
"Surprise! I brought you cookies Liebe!"
The horror that flooded his gaze was unmatched. He quickly wrapped around you to hide you from onlookers, glaring in their direction.
"Mein Liebe, what are you doing here? You are for my eyes only!"
You pouted into him, pushing off of his chest, "I wanted to surprise you," His eyes softened and he huffed, turning to glare at the men at the table who were still gaping in your direction.
"Thas your wife König? The lass is like half your size!" Soap stared on in horror, you could tell what he was thinking about so you hid in his shirt.
"Let's go." He stood, throwing you over his shoulder and flattening your skirt over your ass. Your face was red as you tried to keep the box from being crushed, and you just stared down, completely embarrassed.
"König put me down!" You kicked your legs, trying to fight him off, but he just smacked your ass and carried you out of the cantina, everyone completely silent.
"What the hell just happened." Ghost shrugged at Soaps comment and just kept eating silently.
König had carried you all the way to his quarters, gently placing you on the bed. The blood had rushed to your head so you were bright red.
He knelt, taking off your shoes and rubbing at your sore feet.
"Why did you think this was a good idea mein Liebe? Hmm?"
"I just wanted to bring you a treat.. I thought you'd like seeing me here.."
König sighed, kissing your shin before he looked up at you with his piercing gaze.
"Lamm, I can't keep my eyes off of you, which means neither can other men. I'm the only one that gets to look at you. Du bist mein."
You huffed and averted your gaze, cheeks a bright pink as you handed him a cookie.
"Still, you didn't have to make a scene.." He simply chuckled and stood.
"I know you like it when I toss you around Liebling, you cant fool me. I know you loved the attention."
He caged you in on the bed, prompting you to lie on your back, legs hanging off the edge. You pulled up his mask to reveal his mouth and pressed your lips to his. König groaned softly, slanting his lips against yours, intensifying the kiss.
You moaned and panted into his mouth, whimpering at the flavor of his tongue against yours. He ran a hand up your thigh, squeezing your soft skin in his calloused hands.
He pulled away to attack your neck, sucking and biting at the exposed skin
"K-König.. what if someone sees-!"
"Don't care.. they need to know who you belong to... Du bist mein..."
You squirmed underneath him, far too excited at the attention he was giving you, especially when he slipped a finger under your panties and rubbed at your sloppy folds.
"Scheiße.. du bist so wet for me Liebe.."
You watched with dazed eyes as he slid off the bed onto his knees, dragging you to the edge of the bed where he ripped off your underwear and started sucking on your clit. You immediately grabbed at the fabric of his mask and threw your head back, arching into his mouth as you moaned loudly.
König quickly sunk two fingers into your wet cunt, rubbing at your sensitive walls as he fucked you with his hand. You met his gaze and whimpered as he continued eating you out like a starved man. He moaned against your pussy as you came on his hands and face, plenty of slick being absorbed into the fabric hiding his face.
A soft whine escaped as he cleaned up your mess with his tongue, savoring every drop of your arousal. He stood, sucking his fingers clean as he stared down at your spent form lying limply on the bed.
"Braves Mädchen.."
You lied there, staring at him as you tried to grasp a single thought after that mind blowing orgasm, but you just blushed when you noticed his dick straining against his pants.
"What is it Liebling? You want more? Dirty little slag..."
Gnawing on your lip, you nodded, completely drunk on his attention. The sound of his belt being unbuckled and shucked from his pants immediately made you throb for him.
He bound your wrists with the belt, flipping you on your stomach so you were bent over the side of the bed. You had to stand on your toes, causing your legs to shake at the stretch.
"König.. Please.." He chuckled at your desperate plea as he forced your knees back onto the bed so your hips met his. He rubbed the head of his cock along your slick folds, teasing you by swiping over your clit.
You whined, burying your face further into the mattress as the friction of the blanket rubbed against your knees. König sunk the head of his cock into you, eliciting a pitiful moan as he stretched you wide, this fat cock stuffing into you inch by inch.
He groaned softly at the friction, praising you for taking him so well, "It's like you were made for me Mein Liebe, wrapped so fucking tight around me... Scheiße.."
He slowly pulled out then sunk back in, reveling in the feel of your gummy cunt wrapping tight around his meaty shaft. You whined, pressing against him to meet each thrust, tears staining the mattress as you took his cock.
König nearly growled every time you sucked him back in, head thrown back as he pulled your hips against his.
"I don't share Liebling.. You're all mine.. Only I get to see you.. get to fuck you... Scheiße.."
He moaned as you tightly squeezed around him, creaming on his dick. He watched as a ring of white collected at the base of his cock, stuffing it all the way in before spurting thick ropes of cum into your cunt.
He pulled out slowly, his cum leaking down your thighs as you whimpered at the empty feeling. He gently undid the belt around your wrists and pressed a kiss to your forehead through his mask.
"Stay there Liebling, Ill clean you up.."
König stepped away to get a washcloth soaked in warm water, gently cleaning off the arousal that had covered your legs and folds, placing a gently kiss on your ass and putting your underwear, socks and shoes back on for you.
"Now let's get you out of here, I don't need anyone else looking at my beauty.." you just nodded slowly and tried to rise on shaky legs. Clinging to his arm, he walked you back to your car, many onlookers staring in shock and utter horror.
He raised his mask above his nose and pressed a soft kiss to your lips before letting you leave. When you started the car, window still rolled down, he listened intently to the radio, realizing you were listening to his playlist.
Rein, Raus
Rein, Raus
Rein, Raus..
You flushed, turning down the radio and meekly met his gaze, "I like that song.. Reminds me of you.."
His piercing blue eyes told you all you needed to know. When he got home, you wouldn't be going anywhere for a while.
Because he was going to make sure you couldn't walk.
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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.
#eddie munson smut#smut#eddie x y/n#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson imagine#Eddie Munson smut#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things smut#eddie munson fem!reader
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40's baby Bucky & baby Reader, Present Bucky x Reader, all the flufff, a lil angst but it just adds to the fluff, promise
Bucky sat under the tree with a very prominent pout on his chubby face, his arms crossed against his chest with his brows pulled together. He wasn't happy. Not one bit. Not after his favorite ball was kicked over a fence by the other neighborhood boys.
"Bucky, do you want to play with me?" You toddled over to your best friend hoping to lift his spirits after seeing him so grumpy only to be met with a huff.
"No! Go play with Stevie instead. Leave me alone!" He frowned, brushing you off and turning his back at you to sulk facing the tree instead.
"But-
"I don't want to play with you" Bucky grumbled. Your bottom lip wobbled, dropping your shoulders as you walked off and sat by yourself under some shade on your porch. You didn't have many friends being the youngest and only little girl on your street; Bucky and Steve being the only two who included you in their games.
"Bucky's mean" You picked up one of your dolls, setting her up beside you while you toyed with a wild flowers, doing your best to keep from sniffling after he shooed you away. You knew he was upset but you wanted to make him feel better!
Of course it didn't take long for Bucky to feel bad, peeking over to see your fallen face sitting all alone on the steps of your house, eyes wet with tears which you were desperately blinking back. He got a bad feeling in his little pudgy belly, knowing he wasn't very nice to you. He knew his ma wouldn't be very happy if she heard how he'd spoken to you, especially after you were just trying to brighten his mood. He got up from his place on the grass, nicking a few flowers from his garden before shuffling over to you only to be met with your now grumpy face, crossing your arms and turning away just like he did.
"I'm sorry y/n" Bucky came and plopped beside you, moving the doll away, while clutching onto a few pink tulips. You didn't respond, still mad at him for being mean to you when you'd done nothing wrong. "C'mon jellybean, pwease?"
His baby blues were shining bright as he gave you his best puppy eyes, hoping you'd forgive him. You felt a giddy at the name he called you, one he'd given you because he thought you were sweet like one. You turned to face him while he gave you a shy little smile, placing the flowers onto your lap.
"I brought you flowers" He stated proudly, happy at the giggle you let out, setting them aside before tugging at his hand to run off and play.
-
"Y'promise you'll come back?" your eyes were wet with tears again although you were now 20 years older and the chubby boy you grew up with had grown into a very handsome soldier. He stood before you in his clean and pressed uniform, his face shaven, hair neatly cropped.
"Of course doll" He whispered affectionately, letting his thumbs swipe across your cheeks, kissing away the tears that fell. "I'll always come back to you jellybean"
"You better" You sniffled, standing on your toes to chase more of his lips as he pressed them to yours, his hands wrapping around your waist, picking you up with ease.
"M'gonna come right back to you, safe n'sound" He held you for as long as he could, rocking you close to his chest while you fought back a sob, giving him a brave smile instead.
"I love you Jamie"
"I love you jellybean"
That was the last time you saw him.
-
"This is a bad idea"
"When have I ever had a bad idea" Tony scoffed, continuing to tinker with his quantum portal while Bruce looked over numbers.
"It's not stable enough Tony, if we send someone through this, they could get stuck in an alternate timeline or we could end up changing the future-
"Yea, yea, stop worrying, hand me that spanner"
Bruce sighed, handing over the tool while contemplating on the safest way to test the machine. It wasn't ready to handle anyone actually travelling through time but at the very least they could potentially open portals to the past.
"We gotta put in a location to see if this works-how about-" Tony contemplated on a location, his eyes growing wide with excitement when he spotted Steve's diary that he'd left behind in the lab, "Let's see if Captain has any interesting places from the 40's"
"Why wouldn't you just see if we could get to the compound garden" Bruce groaned while Tony flipped through the pages, typing in an address that had been scribbled in. It was from a list of places Steve wanted to visit again from when he was a child, the address of the person listed under friends. There was only one other person listed there other than Bucky.
"Alright, call the others, let's see if this baby works"
"You're going to get us all killed" Bruce shook his head while calling for everyone to come to the lab. By now everyone was used to Tony's antics; the only one who was genuinely giddy with excitement was surprisingly Bucky. One thing he'd always loved was science; even his stoic expression couldn't hide the twinkle in his eye every time he got to see another Stark experiment.
"Glad you all made it. Now, thanks to Cap, we're going to see if we can open a portal that travels back to the 1940's. I suggest you all stand back since I haven't actually tested this before"
"Why are you like this" Nat snorted while Tony waved her off, pushing a few more buttons before hitting start. Bucky watched from the safe sidelines of the lab as the machine began to vibrate, a low buzz growing louder until a portal roared to life that lead to the inside of someone's home. Bucky and Steve were both stunned from shock seeing a flash of a very familiar living room for no longer than a second before the whole thing closed with a bang and a large puff of smoke in its place.
"Well done Mr. Playboy billionaire dumbass" Sam wheezed while the team was left coughing, the room cloudy as the loud buzz began to dull. "What was the location you even put in-
Sam stopped talking midway when he heard another voice coughing followed by mumbling coming from the place where the portal closed. The smoke hadn't yet dissipated but the shadow of a person was slowly becoming visible. Everyone froze when they realized there was someone on the platform, wondering who could've been sucked through.
"Bruce, turn on the fan-" Bruce hit the lab fan which pulled helped with the smoke revealing a young woman in a flower printed dress. An apron was still tied around her waist, flour streaked across her cheeks, a rolling pin still in her hand. "What the-
"JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES"
Bucky thought he was going to collapse as soon as he saw who was on the platform, his heart fluttering madly in his chest. He couldn't control the blush that crept up on his cheeks, butterflies bursting in his tummy, just as they did all those years ago. The young woman stormed up to the soldier, face full of fury as her palm smacked his cheek (Not hard enough to actually hurt him of course).
"HOW DARE YOU"
Everyone else in the lab silently congregated to one side watching curiously though Steve was still utterly frozen seeing-
"Y-y/n? Doll?"
"Don't you doll me" you whacked his arm with your rolling pin, huffing when it clanged back after hitting metal. That didn't seem to faze you as you switched and hit the other arm instead, making Bucky yelp. "You lied!"
You dropped your makeshift weapon to the floor, moving your hands to your hips instead, looking up and down at the man you loved with your entire heart, the man who you mourned for years after you were told he was dead. He looked much different from when you'd last seen him, the most obvious difference being an entirely new arm. His cheeks were scruffy and it was clear some form of time travel had taken place but none of that mattered. None of that mattered when the love of your life was standing right there, alive and well.
"Oh baby, no-
"Absolutely not Barnes" you huffed at the pet name he gave you, crossing your arms over your chest and Bucky thought he'd melt into an absolute puddle at the sight. He was thrown back to when you were both no more than 4 years old, with a cute little frown on your face whenever you'd get upset. "You left! I thought you-I thought you died!"
The sound of your voice cracking broke Bucky's heart, his hands itching to wrap you up and pull you close to his chest the way you loved. He could see your eyes twinkle with tears threatening to spill out while you rapidly tried to blink them away. You chewed on your bottom lip to keep from wobbling and it only made Bucky yearn to hold you and never let go.
"Sweetheart please, I didn't mean to leave you doll, I promise" He stepped closer to you, hesitantly reaching out to take your hand in his, not feeling the slightest bit conscious about his metal arm. The coolness of his hand calmed your racing heart while you sniffled, still refusing to meet his eyes as you stared down at your feet instead.
The day you'd been told he'd never come back had been the worst day of your life. You wept for months on end, losing the man you were waiting to marry. The only person you'd been in love with since you were 4 years old.
Seeing you standing there before him stirred feelings in Bucky h never thought he'd feel again. Having a home. A beautiful wife. Little chubby babies. All with his dream girl he'd loved all his life. There wasn't a day that had gone by where he didn't think about her. He didn't think he'd ever get the chance again but here you were, dusted in flour like you always were whenever you were in the kitchen, in a pretty dress he loved so much, fighting your cries after desperately missing him. He softly cupped your cheeks, swiping away at your tears, his forehead coming down to softly rest against yours. He smiled through watery eyes at your stubborn nature, still keeping your arms crossed while his nose bumped with yours.
"Jellybean" Bucky whispered, your heart melting at the name, swallowing the lump in your throat, "Please? I-I'll- I'll bring you flowers" He said with a shaky voice, nearly toppling over when you flung yourself into his arms. He caught you, squeezing you right back and lifting you off the floor to cradle you nice and tight before pulling back to smash his lips against yours. The collective sniffles and whistles from the team were drowned out by your soft giggles and warm lips.
"I missed you so much" you buried your face into the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of him, the one that comforted yo the most.
"You have no idea how much I missed you jellybean, never letting you go again"
"Terminator, you wanna introduce us?" Tony was the first to speak up, not so subtly wiping away at his eyes while Bucky continued to look at you with heard eyes, introducing you to everyone. You could only wrap your head around so much at a time but nothing truly mattered now that you were back with your soldier.
And of course your other best friend.
"Steve" You giggled as Steve lifted you up with ease into a tight hug, grinning at his two friends finally getting the life they deserved together.
Seriously imagine how sickeningly cute these two would be. Bucky is so excited to teach you all about the future. He gets to show you how to use all the new technology around the compound. He's so naughty about it too, teasingly telling you he'd be happy to help you in the shower if there's any questions you has about water temperature.
He doesn't waste any time with asking to marry you. Its everything you've ever dreamed of and more considering Tony took the bill and ran. Bucky can't put into words how happy he is finally getting the life he thought was ripped from his hands.
On your wedding night, Bucky spends hours loving on you like there's no tomorrow which is why a few months later, your belly is swollen with your first baby. Bucky is thankful for the future because as excited as he is to start a family, he's scared shitless something could happen to his jellybean.
"Bucky, I'm fine-
"Absolutely not, why are you up Jellybean, go sit down, I'll bring breakfast to you"
"I can still walk y'know-
"Nope. You stay right there, don't move mama, just rest"
When you do have to move around, he's there holding your baby bump, feeling giddy over becoming a dad. He can't wait to meet his little baby that he's made with his dream girl.
After his son is born, he waits for your body to heal but no ones surprised to see you with a new bump not too long after.
Two baby boys are no match for all the avengers but they all happily share their god father and god mother duties.
Your third is a little girl and she's going to be spoiled by everyone.
Somewhere along the way, you get a white fluffy cat.
Bucky's life has never been better.
#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#fluff#marvel fluff#marvel fanfics#marvel fanfiction#marvel fanfic#bucky barnes fan fiction#bucky barnes fan fic#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky fan fic#bucky fan fiction#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes fandom#bucky barnes x reader fluff#bucky barns x you#bucky barnes x fanfic#bucky barnes x f reader#bucky barnes x freader#bucky barnes x fluff#bucky x you#bucky x fluff#bucky angst
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can i request spencer reid w bau!reader and their married but reader forgets to put her wedding ring back on and derek’s asking spencer about what happened/if theyre having marital problems and spencer starts panciking but she just forgot about it in her pocket😭
Derek's brow is knitted in real, authentic concern when he corners Spencer in the BAU's kitchenette, and it turns Spencer's stomach. Usually, Derek has a teasing glimmer in his eyes, but it's scarily absent today, and he braces a large hand on Spencer's lanky bicep.
"Pretty boy," Derek starts, and his tone is soft, soothing, kind, "Anything you wanna talk about? I'm here if you need me, y'know."
Spencer tries feigning calm, which is terribly hard to do as someone who's fraught with nerves constantly, but he keeps an even tone when he speaks.
"I don't think so. Should I want to talk about something?"
Derek smiles sympathetically, almost a grimace, and Spencer feels a flash of fear run through him. Has Derek heard something about his mom?
"I don't think anyone else has noticed yet," Derek assures Spencer, "But I saw Y/N's not wearing her ring."
It's not what he'd been expecting, dreading, but it's not pleasant either. Spencer's eyes dart hurriedly to your hunched form, shoulders bent and crowding your desk as you devote yourself entirely to your paperwork. Sure enough, your wedding ring is absent from your finger, leaving an uncomfortably blank space on your skin, and Spencer's brows knit together.
"I didn't know," Spencer admits, keeping his voice to a low murmur, "I- But- we aren't having any problems. I don't think."
Derek shoots that awful pitying grimace his way again, and Spencer shakes his head, his stringy hair flying.
"No, no- we're not- we're not having problems," He asserts, but he's not sure if he's trying to convince himself or Derek more, "I mean, we bickered about coffee this morning, but not- not marriage problems bad. She just forgot it."
Spencer knows what expression will be on Derek's face if he looks, so he doesn't. He busies himself with stirring the rest of the sugar into his coffee, excusing himself before Derek can press the issue even further.
On his way out of the kitchenette he snags a donut from an open box on the counter, slipping a napkin beneath it and trying not to rush to your desk. He doesn't want to seem obvious, but he's a flaming bundle of nerves.
"Angel," He gets right to the point, placing the donut beside your hand on the desk and leaning over the back of your chair. He nestles his cheek to yours, pressing his lips against the curve of your jaw and blocking your conversation from view of the bullpen with the way he shrouds you from behind.
"Spence," You begin, alarmed at the sudden ambush of sugar, both literally and figuratively, "What-?"
"Are you mad at me?" He asks, sounding rather like a child worrying to their parents. You're only more confused after his question, and you tentatively shake your head.
"No? Should I be?"
"I don't think so," Spencer hums, "But you're not wearing your ring."
You blink, glancing at your bare ring finger.
"Oh!" You gush, your shoulders pressing back against his own as you maneuver your hand into your pocket. It's difficult sitting down, but you retrieve the ring and jam it back onto your finger, "I took it off earlier because I was taking the trash out. I didn't want it to get all goopy, and I guess I just forgot it was in there." You let your explanation hang in the air for a moment, but your eyes flash with sympathy, remembering Spencer's initial question, "Oh, Spence, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to freak you out."
"It's okay," He breathes out a shaky sigh of relief, reluctant to straighten up from where he's hugging you from behind, "You didn't even freak me out. Morgan did."
You laugh, and the sound soothes those frayed nerves in his chest, the ones that had lit with sparks of panic at Morgan's pity, "Well, don't listen to Morgan from now on. However," You reach for the donut, tearing it in half and holding one end out to Spencer while you catch the other between your teeth, "If it means I get donuts in apology, maybe I'll forget my wedding ring in my pocket more often."
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid one-shot#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid headcanons#spencer reid headcanon#spencer reid hc#spencer reid hcs#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid dialogue#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader fanfiction
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Dad!Simon who insisted you go on the vacation, because of course he can handle his baby girl and his six year old (almost six, but Ollie rounds up)
Simon who knew he had it in the bag....
for about two hours
Simon who made bagels for dinner; wassss this close 🤏to making Ollie eat dirt because WHAT DO YOU MEAN you don't like bagels now you were begging for them in the store!
Simon who made it about forty hours before he gave him and called Johnny
Simon who had no idea why Ollie was being so gosh darn annoying
Simon who had previously made a bet with Price that he wouldn't need help so therefore he would rather die than call Price even though Ollie idolizes his 'grandfather'
''s Johnny, missed ya but leave a message at the lil' beep."
"John MacTavish I swear to god if you don' call me back in ten minutes I will personally post thos' pictures of ya in Afgan."
two minutes later-
"ya know that's a real low blow-"
"I need you to take Oliver to th' park- Tessie isn't goin to sleep with him 'roun."
"Call the capn, he's closer to ya."
"I will not do that."
"Ugh, fine- lemme tell my girl then'll be there in twenty."
Simon who told Oliver to behave for his uncle and then happily sent them away- which finally he would be able to put the exhausted newborn to sleep
Simon was finally able to doze off on the sofa, the baby happily snoozing away on his chest and everything seemed perfect with the world
"MISTER RILEY UNCLE JOHNNY IS IS-HES-" The thundering slam of the door being swung open not only woke up Simon but the baby who aptly began to sob to the sudden change of pace, Oliver however did not care "UNCLE JOHNNY SUCKS."
Uncle Johnny told Ollie not to kick the ball into the river
Simon who is flabbergasted because even Johnny looked shook to his core, sure they had been at the park for about five hours but like-???
John MacTavish...brought down .... by Simon's six year old
Simon who, after ten minutes of the baby screaming for their mother and refusing to take their bottle with disgruntled wails of pain and Ollie so tired he can't think straight so he's also a sobbing and angry disaster and Johnny's just standing there by the door waiting for answers and everything is so loud-
"Capn?"
"Oh! Hi, sweetheart," John's wife answered the landline and he could hear her voice call for her husband, "Hi, how are you and lil' ones?"
Simon looked at Ollie who was currently in time out for stealing his sisters binkie for the tenth time, "Not great."
"O-"
"Simon." Price's voice cut in and it took about five seconds to get everything account for, "Ya already called Johnny right?"
"Yessir."
"Did you try Kyle?"
"No sir, he's on his honeymoon."
'"Ah-that's right, that's right."
Silence
"Sir I would like your help."
"Ha! Knew it! Alrighty, missus and I'll be there in...i dunno- you boys hungry? She made that-honey whatcha make?" indistinct conversation, "Ma'am said it didn't matter, she'll bring it anyway. Forty minutes?"
Simon looked at Johnny, who was on 'keep ollie in said time out' picking up the kid whenever he would try and run off. "Can you make it twenty, sir?"
Simon and Johnny who, out of habit, stood at attention as soon at the captain let himself into the house
Simon who looked a bit worse for wear, even with his non existant sleep scheulde in the military he had never looked so fatigued
Simon who had the baby out of his arms by Price's wife within two minutes of them being there
Simon who loves his son, he loves him (internal mantra) but he is making him look bad to his captain so the little twerp better get his act together.
"Riley."
"Yessir."
"How long is your block?"
"Two kilometers around."
"Two laps."
faltering silence through the house, Simon stared at the captain as he helped Ollie tie his sneakers by the door. The silence did mean Tessie had finally fallen asleep but he was- "I'm sorry?"
"Two laps, you, Johnny, and Oliver." Price looked to the kid, who looked more angry at the world than anything else, "Go. Dinner will be ready when you get back."
Simon was about to argue but Ollie beat him to it, "I don't want to run."
"You don't want to run?"
Oliver seemed a bit taken back, "No. So I'm not going to."
"Okay. You can clean the entire house- including your sisters nappy's, for a week, yeah?"
A pause.
"Fine, i'll go on the stupid run."
Simon who might as well be walking with the pace Oliver chose to keep
Johnny who took off sprinting because lord knew that man was starving and Mrs. Price's food was heaven on earth
Simon who sat down on the side of the road when the little guy was out of breath
Simon that mostly ran in silence until Ollie broke it
"Why did mom leave?"
huh?
"What?"
"Mom she-she just...she left us, wh-"
"Whoa-whoa whoa, mum didn't leave-mum didn't leave us wh-whoa, Olls," he had collapsed to his knee when the boy started to speak just to look at him in the eyes and he tried to read the boys expression, "Mum would never leave you, she loves you so much."
"Then where did she go?? Why didn't she say goodbye?"
"She's with her friends, and her flight left 'fore you woke up, Olls. Laddie, she wouldn't leave you."
Simon who had called you, even though there was time difference as everyone was sitting down to eat dinner
"oh...wow the gang's back together," You grumble as you rub your eyes, having been dead asleep, only for the camera angle to change suddenly and it was just a close up angle of your son's face, "Hi baby."
"Mom guess what Uncle Johnny did."
"EY, LET'S NOT TELL YER MOM BOUT THAT."
"Hey mom?" The boy was easily distracted and then looked down at the phone again.
"Yeah baby?"
"Never go on away again, dad said so."
You stay silent for a moment, blinking, because in all three years you and Simon had been together Ollie had never referred to him as 'dad' or anything remotely close. "Your...right, yeah-I'm pretty bored here anyway."
Simon, who was fine with you going on little getaways just not anymore how dare you try and leave him alone
"You sure it's okay if I stay a few more days?"
With a short laugh he looks over the living room, where Johnny and Olls were fast asleep watching some cartoon he didn't know the name of while John and His wife had chosen to stay in the guest room for the night. It would hell if you stayed for a few more days.
"Of course, luv, I got the boys an' Tessie needs to learn who they are anyway."
"I guess. Okay, the ride is here. I love you."
"I love you more."
(annnnway that's it <333 any comments you wanna leave or anything like that makes my day!)
#simon ghost riley#simon riley x you#simon riley imagine#cod x you#cod fluff#ghost x you#simon riley fanfic#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#johnny mactavish#john price#cod ghost#ghost cod#cod#dad!simon riley#dad!ghost#dad simon riley#coco's chaos <3#coco’s pre k universe! <3#cod x reader#xfem!reader#x female reader
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[bernie sanders voice] i am once again.. thinking about coparenting megumi with boyfriend!satoru.
"so you're both megumi's..."
"guardians," you smile politely, praying stupid shit doesn't leave the mouth of the boy next to you. it's wishful thinking.
"yes," he beams so tenderly that you resist the urge to scrunch your nose in disgust. he takes your clammy hand lightly in his and turns back to megumi's teacher. "we had him young." a soft ow comes from under satoru's breath as you kick him under the table, forcing an expression of normalcy onto your face.
you hated parent-teacher conferences because it reminded you just how abnormal megumi and tsumiki's situation was. they had no parents, nor did they have any close relatives that cared for them the way a family should. that left you and the white-haired idiot in the tiny seat next to you to fill in that duty, and between missions and training students, you weren't around as often as you wanted to be.
"i...see," the teacher says hesitantly, eyeing your boyfriend with obvious unease. after a moment, she regains her composure and refocuses on you completely. "is there anything you wish to discuss before we begin?"
"not for me, no."
"when can we get him bumped up a grade? or have him skip one altogether?" every single word that comes from satoru's mouth is a joke but it still has your face burning with embarrassment that you were associated with him. "you know, i skipped a few grades when i was young."
"i can tell," you whisper and he pinches the flesh of your thigh between two fingers in defiance.
"i believe that skipping grades would be unwise at this time, as we haven't done any testing yet-"
"he was kidding, i swear," you say apologetically and, thankfully, the teacher continues as if on a script.
"i see. well, megumi is progressing wonderfully in the class. he's very adept at reading and writing, but he does struggle with math sometimes. it's nothing to be worried about; many children struggle with math at his age." you nod in understanding but grimace inwardly. megs always wanted you to help him with math homework since satoru became frustrated with the problems faster than the actual 2nd grader.
"for being the strongest, he's not that smart," megumi stated bluntly one night while you helped him on a coffee table in the teacher's lounge. you'd sent satoru on a walk around campus after his distress was clearly bothering megumi, who ended up suffering more from satoru's "help" than benefiting. "you're not around that much anymore to help me so i don't know what to do." his tiny eyebrows furrow and you reach out to run your fingers through his spiky black hair.
"i'm really sorry i'm not around as much anymore. do you want me to ask nanami? he handles math all the time."
"i think that'd be worse than satoru."
"you can't get much worse than satoru, buddy," you concede and his mouth turns up a little bit. nothing like a little insulting his mentor to get the boy's mood improved. still, his frown returns like it's his default expression.
"what if i can't do it? what if i'm not like everyone else?" it made your chest ache in a different way when megumi or his sister said something like that, like they were well aware that they weren't normal children. your heart panged for them and mourned their loss of a "normal" childhood just because they were born into a big three clan. it wasn't fair and it was something you lamented to satoru almost every week. you couldn't tell the boy any of that, though, no matter how much you wanted to explain why he wasn't like the rest of the kids in his class.
"just try your best, okay? sometimes, that's all we can do. you're already doing great by asking for help. it's not your fault if someone doesn't know how to help you, so just keep trying." he nodded determinedly; after another hour past dinnertime, you finally finished walking him through the rest of the problems while satoru draped his lanky body over the couch behind you, watching defeatedly over your shoulder.
"is there anything we can do to help him with math?" you ask, unconsciously weaving your fingers with satoru's and giving it a light squeeze. he squeezes back three times. i-love-you.
"he just needs a little reassurance that he's on the right track sometimes."
"mmm, don't we all," you murmur and you don't expect the teacher to laugh softly under her breath, muttering her agreement. before you know it, you've organized megumi's papers into his folder and picked him up from the playground outside his classroom, taking his hand as you walk back to the car.
"your teacher says you're doing well in class."
"really?"
"mhmm, though i didn't need her to tell me that since i already know." you shoot him a small smile, leaning into satoru's body as his arm wraps around your torso. "you, however, need to learn some manners," you lightheartedly tease, knocking your elbow against his abs. "you were not helping in there, you menace."
"it was boring, what do you want me to do?" his tone is so carefree, so comfortingly satoru it made your heart melt.
"it's a parent-teacher conference, not parents. you could have waited outside if you were so bored. went to play on the playground or something." his head dips close to your ear and you feel some strands of his hair brush against your skin.
"but then i don't get to watch you be all mature and put-together."
"trying to follow my example?"
"trying to break your composure," he corrects with a sly grin. "i'm the fun one, after all."
"that's one way to put it," megumi deadpans without hesitation and you stifle a snort.
"i'm one of a kind!"
"you're out of your mind, is what you are." before he can protest, you press a kiss to his cheek and he turns a slightly opaquer shade of pink. "but i wouldn't have you any other way."
#gojo x you#gojo x reader#gojo x y/n#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x y/n#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#satoru gojo#jujutsu kaisen
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📸 END UP HERE
synopsis. when a guy keeps harassing his best mate’s cousin, there’s not a single thought on his mind that would make theo feel bad about wanting to beat the shit out of him.
theo nott x lestrange!reader. PLEASE. request more things for theo or mattheo. i’m literally in need.
theo couldn’t remember the exact moment, when his mind filled the urge to hit cormac mclaggen as hard as possible. on second thought, he definitely could.
theo’s been watching you ever since the party started. you were standing in the corner of the room, trying to get as little attention as possible — you wouldn’t even been there if amelia didn’t beg you to be her emotional support, so considering you were the best roommate (and friend) she could imagine, you said yes. maybe it was just the start of mistakes you were supposed to make that night, or so you thought.
you had a tight, dark red dress on you that hugged all your curves in the places it should. your make up just made you stand out from all the girls there, that’s what theo thought when he saw you. of course, you didn’t want to be there, but you couldn’t just pass on an occasion to dress up a bit, since you were going anyway. maybe your clothing choice was another of those mistakes.
nott’s attention was fully on you — a girl tried to hit him up? too bad, because she wasn’t even half as pretty as you were, and he knew you didn’t even try. it became obvious to all his friends that you were… quite a distraction. he would engage in a conversation, trying hard to have his focus on his friends, but then you would do something, and he felt obligated to look at you, but you were clearly oblivious to his gaze averting and coming back every once in a while.
“can you stop eye-fucking my cousin?” draco groaned, leaning on the wall behind them, bringing a cup to his lips, taking a small sip of alcohol. “it’s disgusting.” he added.
draco malfoy was the only reason that kept theodore from getting his hands on you, at least that’s what he would always tell people he bluntly ignored, when you walked into the room he was in. just because draco treated you like a sister, people thought nott would get a hold of his hormones.
but how could he, when you always looked so gorgeous?
“i’m not eye-fucking her, i’m a cultured man.” he said, getting lots of mocking laughs from mattheo and lorenzo (“you? a cultured man? never heard that much bullshit in my life.”). “i’m admir— ouch, c’mon, malfoy.” his fingers massaged the place that the blonde boy punched.
it all happened later that night, when nott was already a little lightheaded from a blunt he was smoking with mattheo. even if he didn’t want to concentrate on you, it was pointless, so he just watched you, shamelessly, being teased for it by his friend at the same time.
he noticed that cormac fucking mclaggen cornered you, and you had no possible chance to run away from him, your eyes scanning the room, looking for help until your gaze landed on theodore’s face, and he knew immediately. you watched him get up from the couchy, mumbling something to riddle before he made his way towards the corner you stood in.
he didn’t even say a thing, the discomfort in your eyes was enough to assume everything. he tapped the gryffindor’s shoulder, quickly throwing his fist forward, and you could’ve swore to god that you had heard bones crushing. theo just grinned mischievously as cormac looked at him a confussed expression, brushing his lip with his thumb.
but nott didn’t stop himself there, starting a fight. while mclaggen’s friends tried to pull the poor gryffindor away from theo, mattheo and enzo just stood behind him, with wide, prideful grins on their faces, shouting once in a while to encourage theo to “crush his skull”. if it wasn’t for blaise, who finally appeared (with amelia right beside him), the fight would go for probably even longer until one of the teachers didn’t interfere.
“stay the fuck away from her, mclaggen.” dark-haired spat at his opponent, the adrenaline running through his veins, so the bruises didn’t hurt at all. not until he was sat by the edge of the bathtub by you, when he realized that his face was throbbing with pain.
“theo.” you whispered, stading right between his legs, trying so hard to focus on patching him up more than the burning sensation of his hand on her hip. hearing the way you said his name almost made him groan — you were so perfect in his eyes that if he manned up, his hands would be everywhere, not just your hip. “could you please lift your head for me?”
there was something so incredibly intimate about that moment. he just fought for you, and instead of getting mad, you were right next to him, cleaning his face and hands off the blood, speaking so softly and touching him with such a gentle manner that theodore thought he died and woke up in heaven.
“i thought you said you wouldn’t be fighting random guys anymore.” you began, brushing his hair back, so you could press the wet towel to his forehead. “was he making you uncomfortable?” he asked, his tone a little raspy.
“well, yeah but–”
“then it wasn’t random.” theo shrugged, and if you two were in different circumstances now, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from crashing your lips into his. “he should’ve known that you’re my girl.” he mumbled as his hand slipped down on your thigh, his fingers digging into your soft flesh.
“you looked so good tonight.” he muttered after a minute of silence as you kept trying to concentrate on helping him first. a sigh left his lips as he pulled you a little closer. “i want to rip that dress off you, jesus. what are you doing to me?”
it took him one more swift pull to get you to straddle him. his fingers traced soft circles on your outer thighs as you were silently finishing up your job. your entire body was burning. unfortunately, your face was revealing the effect he had on you, and you hated it, because theo always made it his mission to make you blush as hard as possible.
the thing between you two was… indescribable. you weren’t a couple, but you acted like one, you weren’t friends with benefits, but you weren’t just friends. there were feelings involved and neither of you denied. there were mutual attraction, desire, urgency and neither of you could see themselves with someone else. if soulmates existed, then theodore faustus nott was yours and no one else’s.
“alright.” now, it’s your turn to sigh. you put the towel aside, cupping his cheeks, scanning his face for more bruises to patch up. when you were sure that you treated every single one, you let yourself relax, getting a soft chuckle from theodore. “you worried me, theo.”
he mumbled something under his breath, but you couldn’t pinpoint what it was, since he found his face nuzzling in your neck, leaving small kisses in the spots that he knew would make you shiver. he inhaled the sweet scent of your shampoo and perfume. oh, and did it drive him crazy.
he picked you up, your legs wrapped around his hips as he walked the two of you to his bed, merlin help how weak he felt, but carrying you around was something he did every single time you were at his dorm. theo put you down, letting you get comfortable in his sheets (he bought them, just because you said it looked pretty — so now he had floral themed sheets). on the other hand, he was searching for some clothes you always wear, so you wouldn’t suffer in a tight dress.
maybe he never directly said he loved you, but his actions and behaviour towards you was enough to tell you he did.
you’ve changed into clothes he gave you, allowing your… situationship to help you unzip your bra, and you fell down on his bed. it took you a brief moment to realise that you were still in your goddamn makeup. a long sigh escaped from between your lips. theo’s face lit up with confusion, although he understood why you were lazily getting up from his bed.
“you don’t have to go back.” he smirked, looking you up and down, admiring how gorgeous you looked in his shirt, pictures of him ripping it off you started playing in his head. god, the things he’d like to do to you right now. “i hated how you complained about your makeup stuff. bottom drawer is all yours. everything you need.”
and to be honest, you almost cried upon seeing what he prepared for you. any possible kinds of makeup remover (creams, lotions, gels), tissues, pads and tampons, cotton balls, all those products that he noticed you used for your hair and skin-care essentials, he even stocked your favourite shampoo that you told him wasn’t produced anymore. there were even the same exact products you used to put on your makeup, perfect matched foundation shade, all kinds of eyeshadow palettes you liked, lipsticks, chapsticks, lipglosses, even the glitter and gems you used for yule ball once.
“theodore faustus nott, you are so incredibly pussy whipped, i’m shocked it’s possible.” your laughs filled his chamber, when you got back from the bathroom. “at the same time, it’s so attractive that you bought all of that for me.”
“shut up, lestrange.” he rolled his eyes, his hand wrapping around your leg, pulling you onto him. “i would kill for you if you asked.” he mumbled against your skin, leaving a trail of kisses from your jawline down to collarbone.
#harry potter#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott fic#theodore nott rec#harry potter x reader#slytherin#slytherin boys#mattheo riddle x reader#lestrange!reader#draco malfoy x reader#niki’s works 🫂
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jealousy
gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: satoru doesn't like the way the barista is looking at you
a/n: figured i'd give you all a little fluff (save me from this void)
last part | next part
*
year five.
“megumi, go get your mom.”
satoru and megumi are sitting in a crowded cafe, saving your spot, waiting for you to come back.
while the sun coming in through the window satoru is sitting across from is partially blinding him, he can still see you.
you, trying to order, being ogled by the barista who's been granted the pleasure of speaking to you. your smile is normal--to satoru's obvious disdain--and you don't even seem to mind the man's obvious flirting.
(not that it really means much. when satoru leans in like that, you just push him away. when he swoons at the way you've done your hair on any specific day, you just roll your eyes.
so maybe you're not the best judge of flirting. or attraction. or how to reject a tiny schoolboy, like the one you're talking to.)
satoru's only been watching this interaction for thirty seconds, but he's had enough.
“why?” megumi turns, looking back at you. “she’s getting us hot chocolate.”
satoru sighs, no care in the world. can't the kid ever listen to him? “go hold her hand then.”
“why?”
“because.”
“but why?”
satoru gives megumi a (pathetic) glare. “listen to me, young man," he tries to say it like you would--if megumi ever denied any of your requests--but it doesn't work. satoru has to try not to laugh directly after the words are out of his mouth.
so what if he doesn't want you talking to that kid? he's just looking out for you.
megumi's brows raise. he looks... almost amused. “what’s wrong with you? you go hold her hand.”
satoru hangs his head. you told him to sit here and keep the table for all of you, told him to watch megumi and not do anything stupid--which, to be fair, is difficult for him. so he can't go get you (save you).
and plus, he doesn't want you to know that he cares. if you like that kid--with his stupid dark hair and eyes and soft smile and obvious heart eyes--then he doesn't want to know.
and if he goes up to you, he'll know.
“i can’t," he tells megumi, instead of saying any of that. the boy would just cackle in his face.
“are you scared?” megumi asks, very seriously, as if satoru is afraid of anything.
(besides you falling for someone else, of course. but that doesn't count).
he looks over to the kid again, who you're chatting idly with as you search through your purse. he wonders if you're telling the barista that you spend every night in his bed, making out with him until your lips are puffy.
if he keeps smiling at you like that satoru is going to get up and tell him himself.
satoru scoffs, looking away finally, back to megumi who looks thoroughly entertained by his father's pain. he crosses his arms. “no.”
megumi shrugs, looking back again. seriously, satoru should've kicked him out when he had the chance. he probably would've been fine with the zenin clan. probably.
“well, i’m not doing it," the boy says, with obvious satisfaction.
if only tsumiki was here. satoru never should've let megumi ditch school, or let him come with you both to get coffee. tsumiki would help him. she probably would've asked you to get yakitori instead and satoru could listen to you try to make small talk with a waitress instead of that guy.
“megumi fushiguro,” satoru begins, voice rough. “do you want your mother to live in a rat-infested apartment with a random, cesspit man, and several tiny babies running around all of the time? tiny wimpy babies? normal, human babies. you’ll have to stay over there and share a bed with multiple infants who will spit up on you.”
megumi blinks. “what are you even talking about?”
“go stand next to her," satoru hisses, because he swears he can hear your laugh from across the cafe, and honestly he's never wanted to destroy an establishment more.
and that's saying something.
at least the man would be without a job and satoru would never have to see him push his hair back and tilt his head at you again.
megumi looks back again like it's going to explain anything satoru does, and he smirks. “that guy doesn’t look too bad.”
satoru's jaw clenches. “i will mismatch all of your socks.”
megumi scowls at him. "all of my socks are the same, after last time."
satoru huffs and leans back against his chair, pouting. "what did i do to deserve this?"
“do you think mom likes him?” megumi asks, voice so innocent it makes satoru want to shave his hair off.
“go.”
megumi blinks at him, tilting his head. yeah, he's really putting on an act now. “but she said to wait here," he reminds satoru like it matters.
“tell her you missed her, or something," satoru goes to wave a hand, but his hand only clenches when he physically sees you laugh at the man. you're not even ordering now, you're just standing there (waiting for their drinks) talking to the guy.
“you tell her you missed her," megumi retorts, enjoying satoru's one and only weakness.
"no."
"she's laughing," megumi points out, resting his chin on a hand. "and it's rude to interrupt grown-ups when they talk."
“megumi,” satoru begs, hating the weird, annoying feeling in his chest. he wants to dig his own heart out and yell at it. “please.”
megumi is basically smirking at him now, waiting for a beat longer for satoru to really break--and seriously kill every person within a ten-mile radius--but eventually, right before it happens, the boy sighs. his eyes are evil, evil things.
"fine," he tells satoru, rolling his eyes. he stands up from his hair and pats satoru on the shoulder like it will make up for anything. the boy has the worst smile satoru's ever seen in his life.
and then he makes his way through the line of people--seriously, this guy is a terrible barista--and taps you on your waist, going to stand right up against the counter. megumi says something to you--you will all of your charm, and your irresistible smiles--and you hold a hand out to him, which he grabs immediately.
your smile, satoru notices with immense relief, shifts on instinct. it goes from something formal and polite to something genuine. you look down at your son and the barista you've been talking to for the last minute is completely irrelevant.
and satoru takes great satisfaction in the way the kid's eyes widen, and the instinctual step back he takes--like he knows that satoru is going to hurt him if he continues to lean over the counter towards you.
satoru relaxes, watching you ask megumi something, but only slightly.
and after a second you turn your head, raising a brow at him.
the little brat.
satoru just smiles--offering you more than some shotty barista ever could--and leans back in his chair.
*
“why are you being so weird today?”
satoru’s chin is on your head, and even though you can’t see his smile, it falters, just a little bit. "don't know what you're talking about."
"you're sticky."
"i just showered."
"okay," you say, turning and rolling your eyes at satoru's pout. instantly his hands go to your waist, keeping you right there with him. "first of all, no you didn't. and i didn't mean literally. you're... clingy. more clingy than usual."
"i can't want to be around you?"
you give him a blank stare. "not when you're being weird about it."
"how am i being weird?"
"how aren't you?"
satoru grins, leaning his head down to push his nose into your cheek. you smell like something sweet--something he'd devour in an instant--but he's not sure what. he doesn't even care. he doesn't answer that question, only hums into your skin.
"see what i mean?"
"it's not my fault that you're comfy."
"oh, im so sorry," you say, fake pity in your voice. "let me just turn myself into stone real quick."
satoru rolls his eyes, pulling back just so he can see the amused look on your face--yeah, he knows that you don't actually care. but the more he hangs onto you, the more affection he shows, the warier you get.
and that's perfectly fine with him, actually. as long as you don't push him away.
"please do," he says, so genuinely. "it would make this a lot easier."
"make what a lot easier?" you ask, voice a bit softer. maybe it's because he's looking at you now, actually looking.
and satoru knows, really knows, that there's not a single other person in the world who you look at like this. there's not another man that you'd let sniff you, no other man that would dare to irritate you the way that he loves to.
satoru's worked several years to get you to be this comfortable, this easy around him. and even if there was someone else--he wouldn't give you up without a fight.
you're his in a way that transcends labels or reality.
still, he doesn't answer that question (because you already know). he only smiles a bit more, leans in, and basks in the way your lips mold to his immediately.
*
next part | series masterlist
#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#jjk gojo#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x y/n#satoru x reader#satoru x you#satoru x y/n#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#satoru gojo#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#a typical family
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