#diverging jealousy

[wangxianficrecs]

New Perspective by mrcformoso

New Perspective

by mrcformoso

T, 19k, Wangxian

Summary I: “Lan Zhan, let me go.” The last memory Lan Zhan has of Wei Ying was the soft, serene smile on his face as he fell to his death. It was, perhaps, what haunted him the most. When it came to the matters regarding Wei Ying, Lan Zhan was always too late. A character study looking into Lan Zhan’s character development between Wei Ying’s death and resurrection, and his struggles of changing in the wake of his newfound fatherhood.

Summary II: “Back then…did you ever believe in me?” That was…much harder to answer. How could he say that he thought he was being righteous, obeying the orthodoxy? How could he condense the complexity of believing in a person against their own upbringing down to a ‘yes’ or ‘no’? He parted his lips to say something, but Wei Ying had already sighed, and turned away. Too late. Again. Too late. What was the point of 16 years of mourning, 16 years of reflection, if he was going to be ‘too late’ again? Follow-up piece to New Perspective. Can stand alone, but reading the previous fic is highly recommended for some of the points that will be raised.

Kay's comments: A lovely exploration of CQL Lan Wangji's sixteen years of grief, mourning and character growth. Part one takes a look of all the places where things went wrong in the past and how Lan Wangji learns and grows from those moments and especially, how he applies his new understanding to becoming a good father to A-Yuan. It's painful and it feels very cathartic. Part two takes a look at the time after Wei Wuxian's returns and how Lan Wangji now attempts his best to gain his trust and show his support and it ends with a wonderful canon-divergent ending to the Untamed, which I enjoyed very much! The main story of the series is complete, but the author teased that the might want to add a few snippets in the future.

Excerpt: A-Yuan’s voice was small. “A-die didn’t look at me.” He pouted, fat tears coming from his eyes. “I wanted to show A-die my sword forms.” Lan Zhan watched as A-Yuan looked away, looking down at his sword, sulking, and he swallowed the large knot in his throat. “Lan Zhan! Look at me!” “Lan Zhan! Look! Over here!” “Lan Zhan! Won’t you look at me?” Wei Ying used to call out to him, used to garner for his attention. Lan Zhan turned away every time, unable to cope with those bright smiles and beautiful eyes. He ignored Wei Ying, and walked away. Lan Zhan never realized how often Wei Ying called out to him until Lan Zhan was completely dropped. When Wei Ying stopped reaching out, when Lan Zhan realized that he would have to be the one to put in the effort to see him, when Lan Zhan had to go out of his way for it.

series, pov lan wangji, the untamed canon, major character death, canon divergence, grief/mourning, introspection, character study, flashbacks, fatherhood, loss, angst with a happy ending, hopeful, angst and hurt/comfort, implief/rerenced suicide, jealousy, pining, misunderstandings, miscommunication, golden core reveal, love confessions, getting together, trust issues, cynophobia, @mrcformoso

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[mara-xx217]

Albert Wesker x You Commission P.3- Caught His Eye

The timeline is totally fucked but shhhh it's a secret between me and you~

The last part of @prettycutebunny's Wesker commission! Part One and Part Two.

Warnings: Some Upsetting Content, Wesker Project Discussed, Murder, Angst, Jealousy, Eventual Happy Ending, Light Smut

    He promised to protect you. He swore to you that he would never leave your side. With him, you felt safe, secure. Loved. He made you feel loved and you knew that this love was real and genuine. He always treated you right. He treated you with honour and respect- He saved your life. You couldn’t- You wouldn’t live your life without him. 

    Why did it have to end like this…? 

    You couldn’t believe it. Albert Wesker- your Albert- dead…? Dead, no body, and in the midst of the biggest corporate-government cover up scheme that you think you’ve ever seen- or may see- in your entire life. 

    Shock didn’t cover the scope of the emotions you were feeling. Anguish was pretty close but abject terror was also right on point. The love of your life was dead. Dead. Here one day, when he gave you a kiss and told you he would be back soon, then gone the next in a cloud of blood and smoke. 

    Everything was going right, for once. So good… Now you are left with a hole in your chest and the threat of an evil corporate entity looming over you. One that tried to kill you before and one headed by your legal spouse. 

    All day, you couldn’t stop vomiting, even vomiting when nothing else remained in your stomach but saliva and bile. Wrapping yourself in one of Albert’s shirts did nothing to soothe the pain and fear that threatened to consume you. It was finally starting to settle on you. Reality was washing over you in a claustrophobic wave that left you unable to think or see or even breathe. 

    Albert was gone- never coming home- and you have been left to fend for yourself against an organization with no morals and who was above the law, and you had a bright red target painted on your back from disrespecting and inconveniencing the man that founded this cartoonishly evil corporation that, under different circumstances- make you laugh it the threat wasn’t already made so real by the simple fact that he nearly fucking killed you once already. 

    What were you supposed to do? Where could you go…? S.T.A.R.S. was decimated. Gone, with- w-with… 

    … 

    You packed your things, though you didn’t know what you were planning or even if you could escape the long shadow of Umbrella. You realized this after the fact, but you had taken more of Albert’s things with you than what was your own. It’s not like its a surprise, though. Your possessions could be easily replaced. If you would or could ever replace them… Albert’s, though? You couldn’t let any of it go… You couldn’t- You wouldn’t. It’s all you have left. It’s the only amount of security and comfort that you have left. 

    You wouldn’t know this, but you weren’t even a passing thought in the minds of Umbrella’s damage control unit. You were a nobody. Oswald E. Spencer’s wife? Sure. A brilliant scientist? Well… don’t get ahead of yourself. You were plain. Disposable and replaceable. You could try to tell someone how fucked up Umbrella was, that there was an attempt on your life and it was likely your husband in name only that orchestrated this plot. 

    You could try… but you wouldn’t. They already succeeded in intimidating you from doing any such thing. Your one and only safety net was cut away and thrown to the wayside. You wouldn’t dare to open your mouth and paint an even larger target onto your back. Not now not ever. You’ll fade into the background, remaining silent in fear of retaliation. As if anyone would listen to you. You were a disgraced employee, an adulteress wife. A liar and a cheat. It works out in your favour more than you would ever know or care to know. 

    Now you can run away. You’ll run away and hide and pretend that you don’t exist while you mourn the only person to show you any amount of kindness, dignity, respect and love. It’s sad that you remained so ignorant for so long… 

    Albert hopes that you will be able to forgive him…

    He had no intention of leaving you in this way, though things had quickly spiraled out of control. Out of control… Whenever you are on his mind, something unexpected always happens. Albert doesn’t blame you- he would never- the blame lies solely on his shoulders.

    He had become cocky and overconfident. The other members of S.T.A.R.S. put up more of a fight than he could ever expect from him. Albert would have been impressed if it hadn’t completely fucked everything up. 

    Albert hated that he waited until the dust settled to reach out to you. He couldn’t risk it- couldn’t risk you getting hurt further. The surveillance he had placed you under was for naught. One day, he knew where you were and the next, you were gone.

    Only you could make him panic. Albert was almost confident that Umbrella had next to zero interest in you. The Mansion incident had them completely overwhelmed with covering their asses from leaks and the public pointing the finger at them for this terrible tragedy. He had his contacts, his ways of snooping from the outside. No, Umbrella couldn’t care less about you.

    Then… where were you?! 

    Time wasn’t on Albert’s side. The possibility that you were alive and safe seemed far fetched. If he wasn’t certain, if he couldn’t see you with his own eyes and hold you against his own body, then Albert knew you couldn’t be safe. You needed to be found before any other tragedies befall onto your life. 

    Albert never stopped looking for you. Even as he continued his own, personal work, he never took a break from searching for you. Regardless of how it irked his “partner”. Every time Albert began to pick up your trail, it would immediately go cold, much to his dismay. 

    No matter how aggressively he searched for you, he would lose you. It was as though you were acutely aware that someone was tailing you and you remained one step ahead of the potential danger. 

    Would you continue to run if you knew  it was he who was looking for you…? 

    It was dismaying. So upsetting, in fact, that when an all too familiar person contacted Albert out of the blue and with no explanation as to how he knew where to find him or why, other than a curt “Speak to me. Alone.”, Albert agreed, though cautiously. 

    He really meant to speak to him alone… 

    Albert wasn’t too pleased to see Spencer again, but the old bastard seemed as indignant and smug as ever. Always looking down his nose at others, even when he is the one that is on his last legs of life… Albert wasn’t interested in any “reminescing on good times” or “lamenting on what could have been”. If he has information-

    “Where is she?”

    “Hmph- That is what concerns you?”

    Albert set his jaw. His hand reflexively clenched into a fist as he grited his teeth. “That”? Is that how he addresses you? “That”, like an object, a thing, a possession. Heat rose up Albert’s neck and he straighened his posture to correct himself before he lashed out prematurely. Not that Spencer cared to face him. 

    Too cocky for his own good… 

    “It would be wise not to test me, Lord Spencer.” Albert’s anger rarely showed through his voice, but when you are concerned, the carefully crafted exterior that he had built over the course of his life always seemed to come tumbling down around him. Spencer scoffed. 

    “You have so much potential, yet you choose to waste it on a mutt like that. A pity, really, it’s unbecoming of you-”

    Spencer fell silent as Albert clutched the armrests of his chair in a white-knuckled grip, trapping his much thinner and frailer arms. Leather squeaked in protest as his grip tightened. Albert had boxed him in, not that Spencer could move if his life depended on it. He’s been ill for years- decades- now. Bed bound, in need of constant assistance. Albert leaned down so his head was level with Spencer’s. 

    “Don’t waste my time. You of all people should know how detrimental that would be for your already ailing health. Do you know where she is or not?” Albert’s eyes narrowed as Spencer sighed. 

    “It’s disappointing how you cling to her so. You- you, Wesker-, you are the one that is of great importance. Unlike you, she is something that can be replaced-” 

    Spencer cried out as Albert crushed one of his arm underneath the flat of his palm. He quickly regained control of his faculties, though the pain was something terrible that made the elderly man wheeze and choke in pain. 

    “The only reason I have yet to kill you is the possiblility that you know where she is. Tell me. Now. Before I have a mind to break the other.” Spencer scoffed.

    “Y-You-” Every word, he struggled to breathe. “-are the best- the best of the best. Just as I intended.” Albert was taken aback.

    What-? 

    Things came out that left him stunned. Superior. Perfect. Progenitor Virus. Him, created, by Spencer. He wanted to not only play the part of God, but be worshiped as one too. Albert wasn’t born, but made. Hand crafted to be better than the best humanity had to offer. 

    “Don’t you see? You are better than her. She would only dilute-” 

    Albert’s own strength surprised him as much as it surprised Spencer. Blood flooded into Albert’s gloved hand, warming his clammy skin as the life left Spencer’s body. The angle was awkward. His arm to slightly above his wrist had implaled into Spencer’s chest. 

It was a surprise… but it wasn’t. It was a long time coming, especially for what he had attempted to do. Too many things clouded Albert’s judgement. What was said, what wasn’t said- The Wesker Project… 

Albert took off his glove and flicked the blood from his hand. Sticky. Already cooling. It didn’t feel like much of anything. Even as his hand trembled as he clenched his fingers into a fist, he feels numb, distant, as though he is in a dream. 

Words repeated in his head. Superior breed of humans… Him, created to be as he is today- 

No.

Everything that he had accomplished in his life was by his hand and his hand alone. No one, no God, manmade or not, made him who he is today! No one tells Albert Wesker what he is capable of! No one is in control of his life other than him! The fire inside of him was renewed. 

He was angry- enraged that someone like Oswald Spencer tried to commandeer his fate. No, not just his fate. Yours as well. Rage boiled into something wholly different. Albert was now calm. He replaced the glove back onto his hand and he went to work.

Spencer knew something, most likely. He’s too thorough and controlling to not keep you under his thumb in one aspect or another. Albert was prepared to comb through entire cabinets worth of files and paperwork. He had to be thorough, for your sake… It didn’t take nearly that much work to learn exactly where you were and where you were about to move in the next week or so.

Interesting that this information was simply lying about. Perhaps Spencer had a thought to make his own move, likely to harm you or scare you into moving somewhere else. Perhaps he was merely lamenting on how you managed to slip out of even his own iron-clad grasp for some time. Albert wouldn’t give you the opportunity to spook and flee out of his reach once more. He will bring you back home, with him, before the next day’s end. 

He promises you this… 

You were at your wits end. 

You couldn’t keep this up, anymore. Perhaps you were overly paranoid… or, perhaps, other things were making you irrational and overprotective of yourself. The motel bed is uncomfortable and puts too much pressure on your lower back. No matter how you lay, extra weight causes different parts of your body to ache and shift in painful ways. You curl on your side and stare at the door. 

The only window was beside the door. For now, you are safe… You think… You don’t want to sleep, something is making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. But… you’re exhausted. Your eyelids are heavy, like lead. They slip shut for a brief moment…

…? 

Your heart leaps into your throat when weight is placed at the foot of your bed. Is this it…? The weight didn’t shift, didn’t move in the slightest. You couldn’t stop your eyes from snapping open. 

You stared forward, unmoving, unblinking, not even breathing. You couldn’t see anything in your peripheral vision. Terror siezed your lungs as something touched your leg. A hand, firm but- gentle…? This person knows you aren’t asleep. You hear them inhale a deep breath-

They stood and your heart sank to the soles of your feet. You closed your eyes. Why? What’s the point…? You feel like a child who’s about to hide under the sheets to avoid garnering the attention of an oncoming monster. You didn’t know what was happening. Were they walking? Grabbing something? Maybe they are kneeling beside you?! Your lips trembled along with your breathing as a hand rested on the top of your head. 

“I’m sorry…” 

No. That voice…

You shouldn’t. You can’t- Your eyes peek open, tears blinding your vision along with the harsh yellowish light of the lamp you had yet to turn off. 

“A-Albert…?” 

Shock as something you had hoped you would never feel again. It blindsided you, left you speechless. Vulnerable. You couldn’t believe your eyes. He couldn’t be here, right? It wasn’t possible! 

…right? 

A gloved hand thumbed away the tears that spilled from one of your eyes. He caressed your cheek and combed his fingers through your tangled hair. Your head seeked his touch. You have been so tired and scared for so long… 

You struggled to sit up. At first, he tried to usher you to remain lying down, but you gripped onto the front of his overcoat and pulled yourself up. He steadied you, both hands on either of your shoulders. His grip, at first, firm but then falls lax as he looks down at you. 

Instinctively, you drape your arm over your swollen abdomen. You weren’t sure if this was some sort of dream or some… -what, assassin?- that has come to take you and your unborn child’s life. This man… looks exactly like Albert. Even has those damn sunglasses that he always wore, no matter what. You couldn’t read his expression and it scared you. Yet… somehow, deep inside, you hoped- no, you believed- 

The hug felt so familiar you couldn’t help but to immediately lose control of your emotions. The way he touched you, caressed your arms, kissed you on the top of your head… You gritted your teeth and sucked in a lungful of air as you buried your face into his shoulder. 

Your palm connecting with his face didn’t hurt. It didn’t hurt physically, emotionally, it didn’t hurt his ego or pride. Albert took whatever blows you landed on him. They were few in number and they were weak, but he took them and refused to let you go. 

It was more than anger that you felt. It was… relief. Rage, too. You were hurt, you were scared. You feared for your life and the life that was growing inside of you and Albert was- was alive. He is alive! He’s here, holding you. Comforting you. Albert shields you and he promises that he will never leave your side ever again. Do you dare believe him…? Could you possibly not, with how he trembles and how his hands shake as he wipes away your tears as he leans down to place a kiss to your forehead?

You couldn’t bring yourself to hate him… though you were hurt and feeling more than a little betrayed. 

Albert brought you… somewhere. You were exhausted and slept through most of the journey. There was a lot of movement and it left you feeling nauseous and fatigued. More nauseous and fatigued than you already were. 

The place he brought you to was… nice. Very nice- clean, spacious, mostly empty. You were more than a little terrified when a tall woman you never seen before approaches the two of you a little too quickly for your liking. You clutch onto Albert’s arm and he places his hand over yours protectively.

Shit, she’s beautiful… You felt even more intimidated than you did before. Albert seemed indifferent, as he always did. He told you of his business partner- what was her name… Excella Something-or-Another?- a twinge of jealousy began to warm your cheeks. You glued yourself to Albert’s side and, to your surprise, he shifted so he could wrap and arm around your shoulder so he could hold you even closer.

To say she looked flabbergasted would have been an understatement. Though she was about to speak, her mouth immediately snapped shut. Her eyes were wide as they darted between the two of you. Then her gaze shifted lower, to your clearly pregnant belly. Her cheeks warmed. 

“Ah- Excella. This is my wife, the one I told you so much about.”  Albert was as cool and unreadable as always. He stroked your shoulder with his thumb and he gave you a little squeeze as he placed a kiss atop of your head. You had a feeling he didn’t break eye contact as he did so, from the way this Excella looked away, red faced. You didn’t bother hiding the smug smirk that broke out from the corners of your mouth.

For the first time in many, many months, you felt genuine confidence.

You felt secure. Albert didn’t even hesitate to show that simply gorgeous woman- who was waaaay more attractive than you by far and away- that he loved you and he wasn’t interested in her in the slightest. It must have happened before- many times- and yes, you felt jealous. You were antsy and you immediately pulled him down into a kiss the moment he led you to a private bedroom and closed the door behind the two of you.

Oh God… You missed him so much… 

You worried your… current state would be something that would turn Albert away from you. It has done the exact opposite of that. He was more protective of you now more than ever before. You were so beautiful… Words didn’t do what he was feeling any justice. His hands, though?

Albert’s touch was delicate. Not as though you were made of brittle glass but rather that you were something precious that was to be honoured or- dare you say it- worshipped? 

He seemed fascinated that you were pregnant. Surprised, shocked, even, but not disappointed in the slightest. Was he… happy? You blushed as he rested his bare hand on your swollen abdomen. 

“May I-?” Albert was a little surprised when you yanked him down by his shirt collar until his cheek was flush with your belly.

Of course, you fucking idiot… You stared down at him as he… listened? Felt you? Your unborn child? Occasionally, you felt… something, but you were never sure it was real or merely wishful thinking. Albert raised his cheek from your abdomen. 

Your heart skipped a beat. 

It felt just like that night. The next kiss left you breathless and you allowed Albert to gently lower you onto the bed as he fitted himself between your legs. You didn’t want him to worry over you right now. Before he could speak, you pulled him into another kiss.

You only wanted to feel him. Words wouldn’t give either of you what you needed. His body against yours, showing you exactly why he wanted you and only you. Albert could have anyone he wanted- that other woman clearly pined for him- but he didn’t want or need anyone other than you. 

Some would try to come between the two of you. That Excella would try to do so, only to face the full wrath and ire of Albert Wesker. Not the doctor, not the good man and husband that you knew him as, but as some sort of beast that only a select unfortunate few would ever get to see in whatever short amount of time they may have left. 

You didn’t give a shit that she hated you. She can hate you and the child you now carry on your hip all she likes. There’s already another on the way and you doubt that you or Albert would stop at a measly two. 

Tonight, you think you’ll give her another show. Albert always dressed you nice- far nicer than she- and you only had to give him a little glance over your shoulder to have him glued to your heels as the two of you made your way up to your shared bedroom. You do hope Excella doesn’t mind the extra noise… She could always go for a walk, should it become too bothersome for her majesty. 

Not that she wouldn’t complain. She will. It only makes you wonder…

“Why are you listening to a married couple have sex?! Are you some kind of pervert?!”

@prettycutebunny, @infinitewhore, @kennbb, @slutwithadegree, @dead-bxxxtch-walking, @space-arsonist, @pink-soft-shadow, @sinlessdesire, @hoemine

[wysteriaz-blog]

Two Worlds Collided & They Could Never Tear Us Apart

Chapter 1: The Beginning

You somehow end up lost in Japan, having little to no memory of your life before, or any understanding of the land and people here. But you meet extraordinary individuals, who over time become very important to your new life as you travel and fight together, forming unbreakable bonds.

However, with a centuries-old war between a secret organization and demons waging on, these bonds are put to the test when you find yourself caught in the center of it all.

☽☼☾☽☼☾☽☼☾

Hello and welcome!

Before you dive in, there are a few things to note, so please take a moment to read through these details:

First: This story will diverge from canon, following the original Demon Slayer narrative up to a certain point with a twist. Some elements will be altered or added to fit the story, so expect changes in characters, situations, and dialogues throughout!

[All characters are aged up (18+) due to mature content like language, violence, suggestive themes, and more as the story unfolds. Please keep this in mind!]

As a side note, this is not an Isekai! You, the reader (Y/n), are an actual part of this world! Y/n's description is minimal to allow you to imagine her as you like for better immersion.

Second: Italicized text (dialogue) represents Japanese, while plain text is in English. Please note that while I strive for accuracy, I'm not an expert in Japanese language or culture. Therefore, some translations and details may not be perfect or entirely correct.

Third: I don't have a set update schedule, so I appreciate your patience. Writing is time-consuming, especially with chapters ranging from 10k to 20k words! I occasionally share sneak peeks of upcoming chapters to keep you engaged.

And lastly: I plan for this story to have multiple endings, including both happy and angsty ones. You'll have the opportunity to choose your preferred ending, with select characters available as romantic interests.

(Please note that not all characters will be available as romantic interests. This decision stems from my belief that I may not do justice to some characters in a romantic context due to narrative constraints or a lack of connection with their personalities. Additionally, more characters may be introduced or removed as the story progresses. Your understanding of this dynamic is greatly appreciated!)

Your feedback and support are invaluable, motivating me and helping me improve. Feel free to share your thoughts as you read!

Thank you for your understanding, patience, and love for this story! Enjoy your reading journey!

*.ﾟ+ヽ(○･▽･○)ﾉﾞ +.ﾟ*

▪︎☆°○°☆ Playlist ☆°○°☆▪︎

This is a Work In Progress!

[Cross-posted on Wattad and Inkitt!]

I am no longer posting on Tumblr!! To read the (heavily updated and better version) story, please visit my main Ao3—or Wattpad or Inkitt!

Your eyes slowly open, blinking a few times as they try to adjust to the bright light of the sun shining overhead. You find yourself lying on the ground in a serene setting, but something feels off. There's a slight gust of wind as you push yourself up to take a moment to assess your surroundings, noticing that you are surrounded by an expansive plain of lush green fields stretching out as far as the eye can see, with forests and mountains dotting the horizon.

This place is not familiar; you don't recognize a single piece of this land.

You're sitting just off of a dirt road, underneath a lone tree that has kept watch and somewhat protected you from the elements while you were unconscious. Confusion floods your mind as you try to recall how you ended up here. But to your dismay, your memory is as blank as a canvas, devoid of any recollection of the past. The absence of any recognizable landmarks or signs leaves you feeling disoriented and isolated. Panic begins to creep in, and questions buzz inside your mind like a swarm of bees.

Where are you?

How did you get here?

And more importantly... who are you?

You are only able to recall your first name... but anything more than that is a complete mystery.

You groan as you sit up even more and try to move, but your head begins pounding, and your leg feels incredibly sore. You must have been here for quite some time as you try to straighten out your leg from the uncomfortable way it was bent, feeling pinpricks as circulation rushes back into the limb. You also notice that your blouse and pants are fairly dirty, with a few places scuffed up but luckily not torn. Your throat feels dry and scratchy, and you're left to wonder just how long you've been out here. Sighing, you try once more to stand up, but seeing as your leg won't cooperate just yet, you give up on that thought and opt to just sit there with a dejected frown for the time being. You want to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible, so you pray that, by some miracle, someone will come along to help you, and you can only hope that it's someone you know.

But seeing as you have absolutely no idea where you are currently or who you even are, you try to keep your expectations low.

It seemed like luck was on your side in some form, as a loud squawk rings in the distance, sounding an awful lot like the call of a crow, which is then followed by a few yells that were most definitely human. You squint and spot the ebony-feathered bird flying up above in the distance, then cast your eyes downward to find a figure running below it, both of them heading right in your general direction. It sounds like a man given by the way their voice sounds as they yell, but it doesn't matter to you whether they are a man or woman, as you just want to get help. Hope flares in your chest as they seem to finally spot you, veering off of the dirt road to swiftly make their way straight towards you.

The crow lets out another loud caw and circles the air overhead as it reaches you, the man not far behind it. He's wearing some kind of uniform, with a black and green checkered coat. His hair looks to be a dark reddish brown, which is swept back but slightly messy, with a few looser pieces framing the sides of his face. As he gets even closer, you also take notice of a plum-sized scar on his forehead, and dangling from his ears are a pair of rectangular earrings that swing with every step he takes, your eyes drawn to the interesting pattern.

As he bounds over, he shouts once again, and you are slow to realize that he must be speaking to you because he's looking right at you and waving his hands... however, you don't understand a single word that escapes his mouth.

"Hey! Are you okay?!"

You tilt your head forward, furrowing your brows, as you try your hardest to understand what he's saying. Even as you strain to take in every syllable with immense concentration, not a single word makes sense to you as your brain tries to pick them apart and put them together again.

Why couldn't you understand him?

Did you hit your head really hard?

"It's a good thing my crow spotted you! It seemed like you might need help. What..."

He comes to a halt in front of you, his words trailing off as his eyes quickly scan you up and down, confusion mixing with the concerned look in his eyes. He has never seen someone like you before. A sheepish smile breaks out as he stops himself from staring, scratching his head. He quickly crouches down to your level, and his tone grows worried as he looks at you more closely, but he speaks softly so as not to scare you.

"Ummm, are you okay? I apologize if this may seem rude, but why are you... here? Did something happen?"

You keep trying to focus and dissect the words, but still... nothing.

You shake your head, and the hope you had felt before dwindles down with nothing but a few sparks remaining. This... was not good. You don't know what he's saying; the words sound completely foreign to you, which could only mean that he was in fact speaking another language right now and that you didn't hit your head so hard that you forgot your own language. Considering that you are very much mentally and physically lost, this was not how you wanted this scenario to unfold, and the realization that you are stuck in the middle of nowhere with a stranger that doesn't speak the same language only adds to the turmoil in your mind right now.

"I... I don't know what you're saying," you say slowly, the words catching in your throat as you speak for what felt like the first time.

He appears a little shocked when he hears your own voice. You not only looked different, but you also spoke differently. His confusion and curiosity grow by the second as he continues to observe you. It's not every day that he comes across a foreigner. Sitting back on his heels, he looks to the sky and gains the attention of his crow by waving his arm around and calling out to it, and the bird swoops down to land on the outstretched limb. Once he starts to speak to the bird, your hope of being saved from this peculiar situation you've found yourself in dwindles even further, until there's nothing left. This whole thing was starting to become a little too much for you to process right now, especially in your current state.

You are most definitely dehydrated and probably haven't eaten in a while, so your energy levels are extremely low and you feel weak. You desperately need to get things figured out right now, but how can he help you if you don't speak the same language, let alone understand each other? Not to mention... he's talking to a bird, and you're pretty sure that that is not normal. He turns to you and speaks again, giving you a puzzled look, but all you do is just stare back at him. Only when he makes a gesture with his free hand by opening and closing his fingers together as he mouths words to you do you get an idea as to what he may be trying to say right now.

"Uhh, do you... want me to speak?"

The crow perched on his arm watches you intently, its wings flapping up as it caws loudly after you speak. You grimace at the loud noise, growing a little agitated when it makes the pounding in your head worse, but it's quickly forgotten in a moment. You're absolutely shocked and intrigued when the crow starts speaking as well, and not in just any language, but in English nonetheless!

"Girl, not from here? English! English is what you speak, yes?!"

"W-What?! Yes, correct... how did—"

Before you can even finish your sentence, though, the crow caws loudly once again and then speaks to the man in the other language, which your brain is now finally recognizing as Japanese.

Wait...

Japanese?

Then does that mean you are in Japan?

Why are you here, and more importantly, how did you get here?

The man rubs his chin thoughtfully as he nods along to the bird speaking to him, then turns his attention back to you. "Ehh... English?" he stammers a little, his brows slightly furrowed as he gazes at you.

You dumbly stare at him, your mind a little slow to catch up to what he had just said, but once it clicks, you nod and quickly try to get up in your newfound excitement. But the rushed movements cause you to clench your jaw and settle back down after causing some pain and discomfort to your tired and aching body. However, with the flames of hope rekindled, you can't stop grinning and ignore the pain.

Yes!

Maybe there is a chance that you'll find your way out of this confusing situation and figure out who you even are, how you ended up here, and where you live so that you could possibly go back home. He notices the way you subtly wince in pain and fretfully raises his hands in concern, a frown making its way onto his face as he stops you from moving any more. He swiftly stands back up and holds his hands out towards you, lightly pushing them forward in a gesture for you to take hold. Instead of watching you try to painfully get up on your own, he's offering to help you. He's patient as you hesitate for a moment, slowly placing your hands in his as you look up at him momentarily to give him a curt nod, signaling that you are ready to stand up. He hoists you up with a lot more ease than you were expecting and keeps you steady with one of his hands lightly sliding to your arm.

He loosens his grip around your joined palms, but he doesn't release his hold entirely so that you don't lose your balance and fall over.

"Thank you..." you mumble.

After a painfully awkward and very silent minute, you lightly pull away to give the hint that you feel strong enough to stand on your own now. He lets go of you with a small smile, happy that you seem to be fine for now. You can practically see the gears turning in his mind as he then looks off to the side for a moment. He slightly startles you as he suddenly perks up and turns back towards you with two fingers pointed down, making what appears to be a walking motion. You're quick to understand the gesture, so you give another short nod and grin a little as he eagerly nods along.

You're still a little shaky after being on the ground for so long, so you sway a little as you both start to walk, but he's quick to offer his arm for you to hold onto for support. Although you don't want to lean on a stranger so much, you're much too tired to be rejecting the support he's so kindly offering, so you reluctantly grasp onto him in fear of falling down and potentially hurting yourself even more. With your hands firmly secured around his bicep, you carefully walk away from the tree and head towards the dirt road. It proves to be a little difficult as the ground is uneven, and your legs are still trying to get used to being active again after who knows how long you've been out, but you slowly start to get the hang of it.

As he continues to help you walk forward, you become lost in your thoughts once more. The dragging of your feet as well as the subtle change in your scent catch his attention. He suddenly stops walking, turning to face you as his expression shifts, quietly observing you. His gaze holds a gentle kind of warmth that you're entirely unfamiliar with, sympathy and genuine care gleaming from within deep pools of red, and for some reason... you don't think that you've ever had such kindness directed at you before. Not even from a person that you might have known in the past.

And yet, here he was—a total stranger—looking at you as if you had value... as if... you actually mattered.

Why...?

How can someone be so gentle, compassionate, and warm?

You don't know why, but those thoughts and feelings nearly make you want to cry; however, you manage to hold yourself together and maintain eye contact for just a few more moments. But it almost feels too intimate to have someone look at you in such a way, as if they were trying to look past what was right in front of them and peek into your very soul. But you don't believe that your soul was meant to be viewed with such closeness and care; it makes you nervous, something deep down inside telling you that you weren't worthy of such things.

So, you quickly look away and try to appear as nonchalant as you possibly can.

But you're unaware that he has a keen sense of smell, although your scent is very faint, and he's able to pick up on your emotions right now, which are a swirling mix of confusion, anxiety, fear, and sadness...

He's always been so sensitive to the thoughts and feelings of others, and you were no exception, even if you were harder to read. He glances in the direction that he was heading in earlier before coming across you, then his gaze slowly falls back onto you. You were clearly very lost, so he couldn't just leave you here. Not that he planned on doing so anyway. He's hoping to find a nearby village or town where you might be able to receive better help, as he was heading to a mission and needed to focus on it, but you would be safe with him for the time being. And even though you don't understand each other, he thinks it would be best to make sure that you are okay with following him.

Seeming to have luck communicating with you by using his hands and making simple gestures before, he tries once more to get your attention and convey his intentions.

"Do you," he begins by pointing at you, then pointing to himself, "want to follow me? I'm on my way to a mission, but maybe we can find a place along the way and you can get help?" He makes the same walking motion as before as he continues to speak, then points at you again before holding his hand up to his chest and clenching his fist. "You can accompany me, and I'll make sure you're safe until then."

You watch his actions intently. While spoken words may be difficult to understand, body language is fairly easy to decipher if you pay close enough attention, which is exactly what you do. And you think that you get the gist of what he is trying to tell you. He must be asking you to follow him, and while he is a stranger and you should probably be much more wary, you are extremely tired, weak, and very much lost. You have no idea where to go from here. But he most likely knows where the closest town or city is located, so it only makes sense to follow him. He's also been very kind and helpful thus far; he didn't have to go out of his way to help you, but he chose to spare his time to come check on you—a random person that he found laying on the ground in the middle of nowhere—when he could have easily just minded his own business.

Sadly, not a lot of people would have shown as much sympathy as he has.

If someone else had come across you, it's very likely that they would have just left you to rot there. So, you're quite lucky that he was the one to find you. As you see it, there really isn't any other option, so you nod and give a quick thumbs up. He grins once more and slowly leads you down the road, heading in the direction of his mission and where you will hopefully find a village on the way. After around half an hour of walking, a bunch of shouts and wails can be heard in the distance. You both frown and slightly pick up the pace, curious to find out where the noise is coming from.

The shouting gets closer as you make it to the top of a little hill, and you see two figures in the middle of the road, about one hundred yards away from where you stand. It appears to be a woman and a man; he's dressed all in yellow and orange, and his hair is just as brightly colored. He's on the ground, his hands clinging to the woman's clothing as he appears to grovel at her feet. The woman, on the other hand, seems frazzled, and it looks like she's trying to shake him off without having to get too physical, but to no avail.

"I'm begging you, please, marry me! I'll die any day now, and I don't want to die alone!!"

Was this... a lover's quarrel?

In the middle of nowhere?

You and the man with the checkered coat briefly glance at each other, confusion sweeping over your faces.

"What on earth...?" he mumbles to himself.

"Marry meeeee," the man in the distance warbles pathetically. The woman tries to break away from his grasp, but he doesn't budge. "Please, find it within your heart to give me a chance before I inevitably die!!"

A little sparrow quickly flies over, chirping wildly as it lands on your new companion's hand. It seems distressed as it hops around in his palm, its small wings flapping about frantically. This causes a look of concern to cross his face.

"Yes...?" His brows shoot up as its chirps grow more desperate. "Huh...? Okay, I'll try to help!"

Was he... talking to the little bird? First the crow, and now this?

The crow was easier to accept because it actually talked like a person, but this sounded like your average sparrow. You must be going crazy or something because last time you checked, humans and birds did not speak to each other, but he somehow understood them. Little did you know that his ability to understand them was linked with his heightened sense of smell; he is able to perceive things outside of the normal range of perception, such as the feelings and thoughts of other living things.

So, he could understand animals if he really concentrated.

He takes off with the little, round-shaped bird, and you rush after him, not wanting to be left behind. Once he gets close enough to the couple, he promptly grabs onto the back of the man's attire, effectively cutting off his wailing as he drags him away from the woman.

His voice is still mellow, even as he rebukes the man with a rather cross look. "What are you doing? Why are you making such a scene in the middle of the road?! She's clearly not interested in you! Also, you're stressing your sparrow out! So could you please stop this nonsense?!"

The man chokes on air after being yanked away from the woman so suddenly. Your new companion looks down at him with a scowl as the man cries and yells even more while trying to grab the woman again. She turns her face away and takes a step back, ignoring his pleas. He blubbers incoherently, tears streaming down his face as he rambles on. But clearly, whatever he was blubbering about was somewhat comprehensive, as the woman immediately screeches very angrily and points her finger at him. She looks like she wants to leap over and smack him as she clenches her fists by her sides, but she miraculously holds herself back. After a few moments, your companion slowly releases the other man as he seems to calm down a little.

The blond stares at him with a tilt of his head as he's released, sniffling pitifully and wiping at his nose.

"Wait... that uniform," his eyes widen a fraction, and he gasps, "aren't you the guy from... Final Selection? I know you!"

"What?" Your companion's face twists. "Don't go pretending like we know each other, cause we don't.. 'kay? You're not getting out of trouble by trying to associate with me."

"HUAAAGH?! But.. we have met! Don't you remember?! I was standing right by your side at Final Selection as we chose which ore to have our blades forged with! Don't get angry at me when you're the one with a terrible memory!!"

You zone out and look over at the other woman, who has quickly been forgotten now that the two men were too caught bickering with each other. You catch her eye, and she gives a strained smile, so you offer one back. Her expression was one that all women could unfortunately understand at one point or another in their lives; it was the look of a woman who has been dealing with a man for far longer than she'd like. She was trying her best to be polite, but it only made matters worse, and he wasn't taking the hint that she was not interested. Some men were absolutely clueless and persistent, and as she glared at the blonde who was still arguing with your new companion, you knew without a doubt that she felt he was insufferable and she wanted nothing more than to strangle him.

With a quick glance at the men, you turn back to her and nudge your head to the side, wordlessly telling her that this was her chance to leave now without being noticed. She gives another smile, slightly bowing her head as she quickly and quietly walks away and heads down the road. You turn back to the men and become startled as the blonde suddenly realizes that the woman is leaving, yelling once again. You're not sure how his vocal cords haven't given up yet, it's almost impressive how loud he is.

"HANG ON, WHERE IS SHE GOING?!!! HOW DARE YOU INTERFERE! THAT GIRL WAS MADLY IN LOVE WITH ME!! THE TWO OF US WERE GONNA GET MARRIED!!!"

He tries to follow her, but he's stopped once again as your companion sighs in exasperation. "Would you give it a rest already... she wasn't in love with you!"

"How do you know? And why'd you have to get in my way?! This had nothing to do with you!" When your companion only stares at him with a strange look akin to disgust, it sets the blonde off into hysterics. "Why are you looking at me like that?! STOOOP IT!!!! You're staring at me like I'm some sort of pitiful creature or something!! Now, you listen here! The reason I missed out on getting married is all your fault, so you owe me!"

A gust of wind blows by and causes you to shiver, your arms shifting up to wrap around you in a weak attempt to warm yourself back up. Suddenly, the man seems to teleport right in front of you and clings onto your legs, shaking his head around as he squeals in delight. You gasp and swing your arms in a circular motion as you try to stay upright and not fall over from how abruptly he attached himself to you.

"Woahhh, so cute! Where have you been all my life?! Please... I beg of you!! You're the only hope I have left of not dying alone!! I promise I'll be the best husband you could ever have if you could just give me a chance!!"

As quickly as he was latched onto your legs, he's just as quickly removed when your companion snatches him back with incredible speed.

He raises his voice more sternly than before as he scolds him for his behavior. "Hey, don't grab at her like that!"

The man in green looks a little frustrated and displeased at having to restrain the blonde so much, but the man doesn't seem to hear him or care as he continues to reach out for you. He manages to slip free for a split second, almost grabbing you a second time, but your 'hero' quickly intervenes once again by jumping in front of you and blocking the man with a deeply disapproving scowl. They collide, bumping heads, and the blond collapses ungracefully and lets out a yelp as he lands on his backside.

"Agh! Go away! Stop interfering with my proposals! Just who do you think you are?!" The blond screeches, pointing an accusing finger at him as he scrambles back up. "What exactly is your name anyway, huh?!"

"My name is Tanjiro Kamado," he states with a hand on his chest. "And you are?"

"Okay, Tanjiro Kamado, my name is Zenitsu Agatsuma! Now, go away and let us get married in peace! I need her to be my wife, so I don't die as a complete nobody!!"

"No!" Tanjiro makes a face, pursing his lips and narrowing his eyes at Zenitsu while he crosses his arms. "Aren't you being a bit dramatic? Why did you even become a swordsman, anyway? You're acting utterly pathetic right now..."

"Well, I got conned by a woman and racked up a lot of debt. The old geezer who took it over for me happened to be a tough-as-nails instructor! He made me train to the bone every day; it was so hellish, I just wanted to die!! I was hoping it'd happen during Final Selection, but since I survived, this nightmare continues to haunt me! You see, I'm not that strong, and I'm absolutely terrified of fighting, and you know what we fight... right? Demons! I don't want to fight demons—I'm going to be eaten!" He grabs at his hair and pulls on it, shaking uncontrollably while biting on his lip. "I don't want to die alone, so that's why I have to marry a beautiful woman before my inevitable death happens!"

"That's— Um, well..." Tanjiro sighs and shakes his head. "Look, I'm sure you aren't going to die. You're a lot stronger than you may think. I mean, you've made it this far, right? You passed the Final Selection, so that has to prove something!"

"Yeah, I guess..." Zenitsu replies hesitantly, not fully sharing Tanjiro's optimism. "It was just dumb luck..."

They stare at each other for a few moments before they seem to calm down even more, turning their attention back to you. You feel so awkward standing there, not understanding a single thing that has been going on.

And the guy who was yelling and crying at your feet just a few seconds ago now stares at you with a curious sort of gleam in his eyes. His voice is more slow and quiet, a startling contrast compared to before, as he squints and leans around both sides of your figure, closely observing your features.

"Hey, now that I really look at her, she doesn't exactly look like she's from here...? Who is she? Where is she from? Why are you two together?"

"I... actually don't know..." Tanjiro rubs the back of his neck as he smiles sheepishly. "My crow spotted her out in a field a while ago, and she seemed lost, so I'm watching over her while I head to my next mission. I'm hoping there's a place along the way where she can receive proper help." He then glances at you, his tone questioning. "I'm sorry, I didn't get your name before. Could you tell us?"

You blink, and you imagine your face gives away your confusion because he tries asking you again in a much slower manner, trying his best to get you to understand what he was asking, but it doesn't help much—you still have no clue what he is saying.

It hits you once again just how lost you are, and the frustration of not being able to properly communicate with anyone is really starting to get to you. Even though you are in the presence of two other people right now, you've never felt more alone. You don't know these men at all. You don't know anyone. You don't know this place. And worst yet, you don't even really know yourself right now.

But what you do know is that you're tired.

Everything also aches.

And you just really want to go home.

Tanjiro's eyes widen slightly, his expression morphing into one of surprise and mild panic. You don't realize that you've started to cry until he cautiously steps closer and looks at you with a worried expression. The tears slowly slide down your face, and you wipe at them with shaky hands, your breaths coming out uneven and choppy.

"AHHH," Zenitsu yells loudly. "WHY IS SHE CRYING?! W-WHAT HAPPENED?! DID—"

He abruptly stops when Tanjiro turns around, placing a finger over his lips to shush him before giving you his full attention once again. He tries his best to soothe you by very cautiously putting his hands on your shaking shoulders and gently patting them while he leans down to try and get a better look at your face. But you're reluctant to let him fully look at you as you cry, stubbornly keeping your head held down to cover your expression.

"Are you okay...?" he asks softly. "Are you feeling alright?"

Even though he knows you won't answer because you can't understand him, he still felt the need to ask, but you likely wouldn't have answered him anyway, even if you did. And even if that were the case, he wouldn't have taken it personally; he could understand that you are likely very stressed and not in a talkative mood given your situation. He just wants to make sure that you're fine, at least in the physical sense... as you clearly weren't feeling all that well on the psychological side of things. He has yet to detect the strong, distinct metallic smell of blood, which was a good sign that you had no vital injuries. But he leans back with his eyes sweeping over you from head to toe, just to be sure, because he wasn't able to fully pick up your scent before.

After a quick scan confirms your well-being, he speaks once again, hoping to mitigate your growing emotions.

"Hey, everything will be fine; don't worry. I'm here to help, okay? Whatever is going on, we'll figure it out!"

When your quiet crying slowly turns into full-blown sobbing, his face falls with growing uncertainty. He's come across a few odd situations throughout his life, but he found himself feeling unsure of what to do in this situation. He's dealt with emotional people before, whether he knew them or not; he had a fairly big family with a couple of younger siblings growing up, so he was no stranger to random tantrums or crying outbursts—although they were few and far between. With that said, he had some experience and seemed to have a knack for making people feel better, so he's taken it upon himself to try his best to comfort you in this moment.

But... how does he comfort someone when there are language barriers?

Not to mention, there may be cultural differences in what is considered acceptable conduct—especially between the opposite sexes. He has no idea where you're from. While most people were more private and reserved in his culture, it wasn't completely taboo to get close to or even touch a stranger with the means to console them in a respectable manner. But you aren't from here, so he worries if he's allowed to try doing anything more than simply placing his hands on your shoulders, even though his intentions are well-meaning. He truly doesn't want to make you uncomfortable, but he feels as if he has to do something, so he tentatively moves closer while opening his arms in a manner that suggests he's offering a hug if you want or need it.

His movements are rather slow, giving you the time to react and reject his (rather bold for him) advance. But you don't dodge his encroaching figure and allow him to move forward. He figures if you haven't pushed him away by now, then this was probably fine and you weren't too uncomfortable with the close proximity. And the fact that he doesn't smell anything that would suggest you were afraid eases his mind a little more, even if your scent was harder to pick up than most. You let him close the distance and bring you into his arms, not caring that he or the other man are witnessing an embarrassing little meltdown.

But who could blame you?

You're confused, tired, and lost, with no real memories of who you even are. Anyone would be overwhelmed and overcome by the torrent of emotions you're currently dealing with in this situation. You can't seem to stop the tears from falling, nor do you have the energy to try, so you give in to the growing tide of emotions and pull yourself closer as you cry into his shoulder. The poor man was probably very confused and uncomfortable, but you remind yourself that he was the one to initiate the consoling embrace in the first place. And even if he had reservations about it, he wasn't doing anything to stop you from soaking the thin fabric of his uniform as you clung to him, so you don't put too much energy into worrying about it.

The longer you stand there in his hold, the better you actually start to feel.

Like before, his presence is very... soft and warm, and the pressure of his arms loosely wrapped around you was comforting.

It was rather... nice.

His quiet demeanor keeps you somewhat grounded and allows you a moment to self-regulate. You didn't feel trapped or have any lingering sense of unease with being so close to a stranger—a man, no less—and there was no impression of judgment or discrimination. He just felt safe to be around, so you slowly begin to relax until you've calmed down enough to take a few deep breaths and finally step away, releasing your tight hold of his clothing as you keep your eyes downcast.

You are a little embarrassed for clinging to him and crying like that, but oh well...

Ever so slowly, you glance back up at him for a brief moment, your gaze bouncing to the other man as you sniffle and wipe at your face.

"Sorry about that..."

Zenitsu puts a finger in his ear and twists it. "Huh... what? I didn't understand her at all! Wait, are my ears still working, or does she not speak Japanese?!" He stares at you and starts shouting as he maneuvers closer to speak directly to you. "Hey, what language are you speaking?! Where did you come from?! I haven't met very many foreigners before! Whatever it is, it sounds nice! Do you—"

You can feel the tears trying to surface again as he continues yelling in your face. Damn it, not again! You don't get the feeling that he's yelling at you—not in the way that would suggest he's angry or anything—no, you could tell he's just a very loud and enthusiastic person. But apparently you are quite sensitive to someone yelling directly in your face, because it starts to overwhelm you to the point of making you want to cry again.

It was like some kind of subconscious impulse.

You have no idea why you're reacting this way; he wasn't acting scary or mean, but you can't help it, and you feel so pathetic.

You feel weak and frustrated.

And you're more than sure it's just as frustrating for them to try and deal with a random lady who's become a blubbering mess, and not only that, but someone who doesn't even speak their language. The tears start to fill your lash line once again, and you try your best to keep it under control.

"Ah, no, it's okay!" Tanjiro frets, waving his hands around and shooting the blonde a subtle glare to stop him from rambling on. "Please, don't cry... I really apologize if we did something to upset you!"

He bows down low to the ground, and Zenitsu squeaks as he quickly follows suit. You don't quite know how to react. This was all so confusing, and you were almost at your wits end trying to make sense of anything. But they looked a little nervous and frazzled themselves, which momentarily took your focus away from the building pressure inside of you that was threatening to burst.

You blink a few times, your voice a little strained. "Uhh...? No, no... please, don't do that!"

Admittedly, you don't know a lot about their culture, but from what little information you are able to recall, bowing was generally used as a form of greeting, reverence, apology, or gratitude in social or religious situations. You have no idea how you know that, as you don't remember ever being in a situation that would include the customs of Japan, but you do. Anyway, you did not want them bowing to you. It didn't feel right, and given the context, you didn't feel as if they needed to apologize for anything. They lift their heads at the distressed sound of your request, watching as you grab at their arms to make them stand back up.

"I'm sorry," you sigh morosely. "I don't know what's going on... I don't know where I am. I'm tired and overwhelmed. And I just—"

You slump down as your body seems to give up, having no will to stand up anymore. You don't finish your sentence and fall silent, except for the occasional sniffle as you try to regulate your breathing once again. Both of them react quickly as they help you back onto your feet, waving their arms around with strained smiles. They look between you and each other, unsure of what to do at this moment. Neither side could understand each other. It was a tough situation to be in, but they had to keep trying to communicate with you somehow; otherwise, none of you would get anywhere. Tanjiro has found that communication isn't successful with only words alone; that was proven earlier when he had gotten you to understand him, if only a little bit, when he had used his hands to make signs as he spoke.

With that in mind, he stands in front of you again and asks the same question he had asked before, but this time he points to himself while saying, "Tanjiro Kamado," and then pointing back at you.

He keeps repeating himself slowly, trying his best to help you understand that he is giving you his name and that he's also asking for yours. He desperately wants to help you, now more so that your scent has somewhat grown stronger and he's able to pick up how frustrated and lonely you feel. You blink a few times, your face slightly scrunching up in concentration. He'd said the same thing earlier, except this time he was pointing at himself as he repeated a few words, which sounded like, 'Tan-jiro Kama-doh'.

Was that maybe... his name?

You hope so. It sort of made sense. And with him also pointing at you, could that mean he was asking for your name? You swallow the lump in your throat, desperately hoping that's what he was trying to get at; otherwise, you fear there truly may be no hope of communicating and getting the help that you need.

You'd be lost forever, alone...

Maybe that was an exaggeration, but you weren't in the most optimistic or brightest of moods right now. Sure, you might get help eventually, but you want to figure things out as soon as possible. You can't stand being in a constant state of confusion and uncertainty—it would drive anyone mad. And the thought of being completely lost, with little to no memories or real knowledge of how to survive on your own, absolutely terrifies you...

You take in a shaky breath, pursing your lips. "Are you asking for my name?"

You sound a little unsure as you point at yourself, but you try to keep your nerves down as you wait to see if he somehow understands you. His eyes light up as you do that, and he nods enthusiastically as he repeats, 'Tanjiro Kamado,' while pointing at himself, then pointing back at you with an expectant gleam. You can only assume from his reaction that the both of you have understood what each other was trying to say, so you finally smile a little in hope.

Well, here goes nothing...

"My name... is Y/n..." You speak slowly at first, enunciating as clearly as you can while pointing at yourself.

You also repeat yourself a few times, and he smiles wider as he echoes it, committing it to memory. As the smile on your own face begins to grow, he points back at himself and repeats his own name a few more times, wanting to make it as clear as possible between you both as to who you are. It wasn't much, but being able to communicate and understand each other, if only a little, was enough to make you excited. He then turns to the other man, speaking for a few moments before having him do the same thing, which the man does happily. You feel a little lighter now that you at least know their names—Tanjiro and Zenitsu. It's a lot better than referring to them by their appearances or how they acted.

It helped you feel less lonely and scared, as they felt more personal now... more real, if that made any sense.

You let out a soft breath and smile in relief. Once they see that you look less agitated than before, they start speaking amongst themselves. You catch Tanjiro saying the word 'English,' and Zenitsu peers at you curiously while nodding along. You're definitely curious about what exactly they're talking about right now, but you don't pay much mind and continue standing off to the side, your eyes drifting up to the sky. After a few seconds, they finally stop and gain your attention again as Tanjiro clears his throat, while Zenitsu tilts his head as he looks at you both.

"Y/n-san... uhh, English?" Tanjiro asks curiously, trying his best to correctly pronounce the unfamiliar word on his tongue.

He just wanted to double-check what his crow had told him earlier. He smiles when you grin a little and nod, taking it as confirmation of what he had learned earlier.

Zenitsu perks up. "So...?"

"Well, it seems my crow was correct. She speaks English. I asked if he would be able to help translate earlier, but he said he couldn't speak it well—only understand."

"You said you were taking her with you, right?"

"Yes, do you think we'll be able to find anyone who speaks English?"

"Sure, but I highly doubt anyone all the way out here would know anything. Your best bet is probably in one of the bigger cities, although... they're a long way away. The closest one is about a four-day trek on foot from here."

Tanjiro hums in thought, nodding along. "That is pretty far... and I have a mission I have to complete, but do you think you'll be able to lead us there afterwards, Zenitsu?"

"Yeah, of course! I couldn't just leave a fair lady in need of help! But if you're heading in that direction," he gestures to behind him, "then it'll probably take even longer."

"Well, that's fine. As long as we can find some towns along the way to recuperate, we should be okay." Tanjiro then turns back to you, smiling softly. "Y/n-san, will you follow us?"

All you can catch is your name, but once he points in the direction you were heading in earlier with him, you bob your head happily, as you knew what he was asking now. He wanted you to follow him, and it looked like Zenitsu was tagging along now. Tanjiro grins wider, and Zenitsu bounces on his feet with a little cheer, feeling excited to finally travel with other people after being on his own for a while. You laugh a little, and Zenitsu stops moving to stare at you with wide eyes. This was the first time you didn't look so confused or upset since he met you. And he could hear you better now—your inner sound—which all living things had. Every person has their own unique sound, giving off different frequencies and vibrations depending on their thoughts and feelings. And yours had sounded off before; it was, for lack of a better word, pathetic and held a muted sort of overtone. But now... it was like listening to something soft yet light, like wind chimes tinkling in the breeze. His eyes sparkle as he brings his hands together, giggling to himself.

You had the most adorable laugh!

Sure, he thought you were quite cute before, but seeing you smile and listening to how happy you sounded right now made you even cuter in his eyes. Call him a fool, but he felt like he was in heaven. There's a dopey smile on his face as he looks at you and falls to your feet, and you can only look down at him perplexed, as you don't have a single clue as to what his deal was now.

"Waaah, she's so cute! It's an amazing honor to be in the mere presence of such a lovely lady~ Oh man, I could actually die happy if I was married to a girl like her. Wouldn't you agree, Tanjiro? Isn't she just the cutest?!"

You seriously have no clue what Zenitsu is suddenly raving on about, but now that he isn't crying and screaming every five seconds, he actually isn't all that bad. He was kind of strange, in an endearing sort of way, and fairly amusing to listen to so you found yourself laughing a little more at his theatrics. You notice Tanjiro looks a little caught off guard by whatever Zenitsu was saying, though, your eyes flickering between them curiously.

"Huh...? Uhmm, yes...? I mean... I can agree, she is cute," he mumbles honestly, scratching at his cheek.

Zenitsu is still giggling to himself, rolling around on the ground, but he stops abruptly when Tanjiro's words register in his head, his grin suddenly dropping as he stares at him with a blank face.

"So... you think she's cute, too, huh?"

"Ah, well—"

"Listen here!! I asked her to marry me first! You got that?!! I can forgive you for ruining my first proposal, but I will never forgive you for trying to take her for yourself, alright?!?"

Tanjiro accidentally makes eye contact with you as Zenitsu starts wildly yelling at him, and his eyes flash with the slightest bit of panic and embarrassment before he quickly looks away, his shoulders tensing up. He faces Zenitsu again, waving his hands around frantically.

"Zenitsu, slow down! That's not what I meant at all! There's no way I would marry her! No, I mean... it's not that I wouldn't marry her because she isn't cute—she is... b-but that's not the point," he rambles on, trying to backtrack, but Zenitsu continues to glare at him. "I was just agreeing that she is attractive! But I wouldn't try to marry her, especially just for her appearance! I would actually like to get to know someone and eventually marry for love..!"

He stands still, completely stiff, staring straight ahead with an awkward grimace as he finishes his proclamation. He looks beyond flustered with whatever their conversation is about, which only makes you wonder what was going on.

Damn, you wish you could understand them.

It's silent for just a few seconds before it's broken once again by Zenitsu screeching, "WHHHHAAAT?! LOOOOOVE?!?!?! DID YOU JUST SAY THAT YOU LOVE HER?!?!"

"N-No! I just met her!" Tanjiro chokes as Zenitsu grabs him by the collar and starts shaking him around. "Where did you get that idea?! I couldn't love her! Well, not that I couldn't... who knows what will happen, r-right? I'm just saying if I got to know her—or anyone, really—and fell in love, then it would only make sense to get married! Aghh, b-but I don't mean that it will happen!! It could, but— I was just agreeing... I was just—"

Tanjiro finally snaps his mouth closed, his cheeks dusted a bright red as he quickly turns away and slips out of Zenitsu's grasp, trying to escape his unreasonable wrath. He was done with this conversation now, feeling slightly awkward and uncomfortable. He doesn't understand where Zenitsu was getting all these ideas, but he wasn't going to play into it and make matters worse by trying to explain himself. He wasn't blind and could recognize attractive-looking people, so he simply agreed with Zenitsu—you were in fact cute. But the thought of love and marriage has not once crossed his mind. Why would it? And it's not like he doesn't like you, because he already likes you; it's just not in the same way that Zenitsu does.

He just met you!

The way that he sees it, he can appreciate the outward beauty of a person, but what he truly admires about someone is what lies in their heart, and it takes some time to get to really know someone. He refuses to base his feelings on the shallowness of appearance alone. Although, there was a time when he was younger, living with his family on a mountain, he briefly thought about his future when he got older. It wasn't entirely true that he never thought about love or potentially getting married someday; he did think about that, and it was something he hoped to achieve in his life at some point.

But that was a long time ago... and things are a lot different now.

True, he is older now and right around the age where many people start getting serious about their future, but he's much too busy to even think about pursuing a relationship with someone right now. Not to mention, he didn't even know if he'd be alive in the next couple of years, seeing as he was a Demon Slayer. People die all the time; it's not a guarantee how long you'll get to live, but the risks that came with his occupation meant he could very well die at any given moment, and his death would likely not be a peaceful one. Right now, he could only think about doing his duty as a Demon Slayer, finding a cure for his little sister, who was turned into a demon, and defeating the very demon who had turned their lives upside down by shredding their entire family apart with cold, bloody claws...

...Muzan Kibutsuji...

He doesn't want to think too much about any of this, so he shakes his head and starts marching off, ignoring Zenitsu, who's still spouting nonsense.

"Come on guys, let's go!"

You don't know what they were talking about, but you found it amusing nonetheless. Their faces were pretty comical. You gather your bearings and try to catch up to Tanjiro, who's hastily walking away, and Zenitsu quickly follows close behind, finally quieting down and allowing a moment of silence to hang over your small group. You don't know where you're going, but you trust them enough to follow them, as they truly seem like good people.

Besides, they were the only people that you know right now, and you definitely aren't going to go out on your own, especially since you can't speak Japanese.

Though the path ahead remains uncertain, you take solace in the fact that you are not alone and won't have to fend for yourself in unknown territory. You were going to stick with them, and with the help of these two kind-hearted, albeit peculiar men, you hope to unravel the mystery that has enveloped your existence and reclaim the fragments of your memory. So, with a newfound hope, Tanjiro, Zenitsu, and you set out on a journey together. You have a feeling that things are only going to get more interesting from here on out. You smile lightheartedly, excited to see where this new path takes you in life.

A warmth and sense of peace wash over you.

This was just the beginning...

☽☼☾☽☼☾☽☼☾

Taisho Secrets

* The Kasugai crows are specially trained birds, as they are the main method of communication among the members of the Demon Slayer Corps. English is one of the many things that they may choose to learn, although it is fairly basic, as they will rarely encounter people who speak the language. Tanjiro's crow was one of the few to pass the test with flying colors (compared to some of the others...) and can understand the language quite well, however, his speech is somewhat limited.

[uzumakiheart]

idk if this is an unpopular opinion or wtv but like naruto and sasuke’s respective traumas are super integral to their stories because their entire personalities would’ve been completely different if they hadn’t gone through what they went through. it’s fine when ppl write their families to still be alive but then they write the two of them to be the exact same and it irks me sometimes idk

[bloody-bee-tea]

24 Days of Mingcheng 2022 Day 14 - Jealousy

Jiang Cheng is pouring tea for Nie Mingjue and himself, just waiting for the other man to speak. Jiang Cheng is not the best with silences–always finding them too oppressing or too judging and at worst both–but he figured out a while ago that Nie Mingjue likes to sort through his words before he actually speaks.

Jiang Cheng could probably stand to do the same, if only to not always immediately snap at everyone who upset him but he figures it’s a little bit too late with his reputation now. People would probably think he’s gravely ill, should he consider his words before he speaks.

But Nie Mingjue always carefully thinks about what he’s going to say–if only so that Nie Huaisang can’t yell at him later for being an insensitive ass. It has happened before.

It’s kind of funny to Jiang Cheng that that still works on Nie Mingjue.

“How was your trip to Gusu?” Nie Mingjue finally asks after he almost finished his cup and Jiang Cheng frowns.

A question like that hardly warrants such a long time thinking about it and so he is instantly on his guard.

Maybe there has been an incident he hasn’t heard of yet.

“It was fine,” he easily gives back, because it had been. Perfectly pleasant even, like his meetings with Lan Qiren always are.

“Why?” Jiang Cheng asks, unwilling to give any more details when he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to look out for.

And that there is something to look out for is made abundantly clear when Nie Mingjue honest to the gods shuffles around for a little bit. It’s a nervous gesture if Jiang Cheng has ever seen one and Nie Mingjue doesn’t do nervous gestures.

At least not when he’s with Jiang Cheng.

“How’s—Xichen?” he then asks and now that makes Jiang Cheng frown for real.

Lan Xichen is Nie Mingjue’s best friend. If any of them should know how he is doing then it should be Nie Mingjue. Maybe they had a fight? But if Nie Mingjue is going about this in such a secretive manner then surely he wouldn’t appreciate being asked outright.

“He seemed—fine?” Jiang Cheng tells him, hiding a little smile when he remembers how stressed he had seemed about his courtship proposal.

Usually, Lan Qiren is very adamant to not be disturbed when Jiang Cheng visits him, but Lan Xichen had barged in, his hair a complete mess, brandishing several courtship drafts at them and then simply slumped over at their table.

Neither Lan Qiren nor Jiang Cheng had the heart so send him away, so they spend an entire afternoon with that.

Jiang Cheng wonders if Lan Xichen already sent his courtship proposal off to Meng Yao or if he’s still too chicken to do it. Maybe Lan Qiren has to take it out of his hands, like he already threatened to do.

“I see,” Nie Mingjue mutters, an unhappy twist to his mouth and now Jiang Cheng is getting worried.

Just how bad must their fight have been for Nie Mingjue to act like that?

“Is—everything okay?” Jiang Cheng asks, the most he can do without actually asking if Nie Mingjue fought with Lan Xichen and he gets a nod for his troubles.

“Yeah, sure, why wouldn’t it be?” he asks and Jiang Cheng huffs out a breath.

“Because you’re acting strangely,” he gives back and then flicks Nie Mingjue’s forehead. “What is up with you today?”

“Nothing,” Nie Mingjue says, weakly swatting Jiang Cheng’s hand away and even that seems so lacklustre that it worries Jiang Cheng. “You’ve been spending a lot of time at the Cloud Recesses lately.”

Nie Mingjue doesn’t meet Jing Cheng’s eyes as he says it and great, now Jiang Cheng feels as if he might have done something wrong, when he absolutely hasn’t.

“I enjoy spending my time there,” he diplomatically gives back and very tactfully doesn’t mention the fact that once you get Lan Qiren behind closed doors, with a good tea in his hands and managed to talk him out of wearing his forehead ribbon, he’s a fucking worse gossip than even Nie Huaisang is.

Mostly because everyone seems to think that Lan Qiren is not paying attention to anything that even comes close to being gossip but the man hears more than all of them together.

Jiang Cheng is not ashamed to admit that he enjoys gossip as well but he would never betray Lan Qiren’s secret, and so he travels there under the guise of guidance.

Luckily no one has asked yet what kind of guidance the great Sandu Shengshou and leader of one of the Five Great Sects could possibly need that he needs to travel to the Cloud Recesses once a month.

“Clearly,” Nie Mingjue mutters, drowning his next words in his tea and jolting Jiang Cheng out of his thoughts.

Something is strange about Nie Mingjue today but Jiang Cheng can’t put his finger on what exactly it is.

“Are you sure you’re alright? Is something bothering you? Has something happened at Qinghe?” Jiang Cheng asks, because if Nie Mingjue is this distracted by whatever it is that bothers him then it must be a bigger problem.

Maybe Jiang Cheng can help.

“No, everything is fine, I keep telling you,” Nie Mingjue almost snaps at Jiang Cheng and Jiang Cheng does not flinch back, thank you very much.

“What the hell is wrong with you today?” Jiang Cheng hisses at Nie Mingjue who immediately lowers his gaze.

“Sorry, that was uncalled for,” he whispers and Jiang Cheng angrily knocks his tea back, desperately wishing it to be something stronger right about now.

“It sure as fuck was,” he angrily mutters and then takes a deep breath.

He does not want to fight with Nie Mingjue; Jiang Cheng hasn’t seen him in almost two weeks and in his opinion that has already been way too long, not that he’s going to say that out loud.

But he’s not going to let whatever pissy mood Nie Mingjue is in ruin the little time they do have together.

He takes another deep breath.

“Do you want to come out on the lake with me today?” he then asks, hoping to hell that Nie Mingjue will just get along with this if he doesn’t want to tell him what’s wrong and he lets out a relieved breath when Nie Mingjue nods, clearly trying to reign his own temper in.

“I would love to,” Nie Mingjue mutters and then even manages to give Jiang Cheng a small smile. “If you really want to take me.”

“If you manage to not be a fucking ass,” Jiang Cheng shoots right back and just like he hoped it startles a laugh out of Nie Mingjue who holds his hand up as if he wants to swear.

“I promise to not be a fucking ass,” he solemnly says and Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes at him, even as he does pour him some more tea.

Things are just going back to normal when Jiang Cheng’s second in command steps up to them.

“Zongzhu,” he says with a deep bow and then gives Jiang Cheng a look that spells trouble.

Either for him or Jiang Cheng, it’s always a surprise with his second but Jiang Cheng is instantly on guard.

“What?” he demands to know and then freezes when his second holds out a letter to him.

It’s a white envelope and it’s just fancy enough to make it clear with just one look what it is.

It’s a fucking courtship proposal.

“What the fuck,” Jiang Cheng mutters and then glares at his second because he knows better than to bring these to Jiang Cheng.

There is a long standing order that any and every courtship proposals are to be politely declined until one from Qinghe Nie arrives. More precisely, until one from Nie Mingjue arrives.

“Here, zongzhu,” his second says and hands Jiang Cheng the letter before he winks at him and then turns around on his heels and leaves, not even giving Jiang Cheng a chance to refuse it.

Jiang Cheng is left staring after him in outrage and when he gets his composure back, he notices that Nie Mingjue’s eyes are fixed on the letter still in Jiang Cheng’s hand.

“Is this—” he starts even though it is painfully obvious what it is and Jiang Cheng rips the envelope open.

Who dares to propose a courtship to him?

He stares blankly at the page, reading the words over again and again and in the end he can’t help the smile that breaks out.

Maybe this will spur him on to finally do something, the proposal says in Lan Qiren’s elegant handwriting. If it does, you owe me tea. You know which one.

It’s signed with just Lan Qiren’s name and Jiang Cheng quickly folds the letter back up before he stashes it into his sleeve.

It makes more sense now, why his second would give this to him; knowing Lan Qiren he addressed the original letter to Jiang Cheng’s second and added the courtship proposal that way. And of course his second would go along with Lan Qiren’s mischief.

Jiang Cheng looks back at Nie Mingjue, the smile sliding right off his face when he notices how dark his face has gotten.

“You’re going to accept, I take it?” he asks, his voice rough and Jiang Cheng frowns at him.

“I’m going to deal with this later,” he tells him and then startles when Nie Mingjue gets up.

“Don’t let my presence stop you,” Nie Mingjue says, not meeting his eyes and instead giving him a shallow bow. “My presence is required back in Qinghe, anyway. Goodbye.”

And with that he turns around on his heels and leaves.

“Mingjue!” Jiang Cheng calls after him but Nie Mingjue pretends as if he can’t hear him and simply walks away.

“What the hell?” Jiang Cheng mutters, getting the letter out again.

He understands why Lan Qiren did it—Jiang Cheng certainly lamented his ill-advised crush on Nie Mingjue for more than an hour during his last visit—but it seems as if Lan Qiren was wrong in his assessment.

Lan Qiren swore up and down that Nie Mingjue is in love with Jiang Cheng as well, even though Jiang Cheng has never noticed any hints in that regard and so of course Lan Qiren would come up with his own little scheme.

He has been teaching the younger generations for longer than Jiang Cheng cares to think about; of course he would pick up a thing or two.

But it seems as if it backfired spectacularly, Jiang Cheng thinks as he watches Nie Mingjue fly away from Lotus Pier and he wonders if it has anything to do with Nie Mingjue’s mood from before.

There seemed to be an issue with Lan Xichen and if he thinks this proposal is from him—maybe that would explain things.

Well, Jiang Cheng will give him a week or two to cool off and maybe get things straightened out with Lan Xichen and by then he’s sure that Nie Mingjue will be back.

It’s harvest season after all and Nie Mingjue has not been shy about the fact that he loves the work. He will be by to help and then Jiang Cheng can find out what has him this angry.

~*~*~

Nie Mingjue does not come by again.

One week passes and then a second, and still no word from Nie Mingjue. Jiang Cheng worries that maybe something happened in Qinghe, so he sends a letter but that goes unanswered as well.

When even Nie Huaisang doesn’t answer him after three letters, Jiang Cheng decides that his people will have to harvest for one day alone because he needs to go and find out what the hell is wrong with Nie Mingjue.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t like to admit it but there’s a tight knot of worry in his belly; they have gotten the qi-deviation issue under control and even relatively stable with Nie Mingjue’s own clarity bell—Jiang Cheng resolutely does not think about the implications of that, thank you very much—but there is always a chance that something went wrong.

Maybe Nie Mingjue is suffering right this moment—or worse, he’s dead—and it spurs Jiang Cheng on to fly even faster than he normally does.

He arrives in Qinghe in record time and it seems as if no one really expected him to drop by unannounced, even though he’s done it before and he will do it again.

“Jiang-zongzhu,” the disciple at the main gate says as she bows deeply. “I am afraid zongzhu is indisposed.”

Jiang Cheng narrows his eyes at her and he sees how she squirms under his gaze.

“Do you want to maybe try that again?” he then asks, because clearly she is lying to him and her face crumbles.

“Please don’t tell him I said anything,” she rushes out and Jiang Cheng nods.

If he gets to see Nie Mingjue then he can at least promise that.

“He’s in the main hall.”

“Thank you,” Jiang Cheng says with a last nod and strides past her, right into the heart of Qinghe.

Every disciple he comes across looks at him with huge eyes but Jiang Cheng doesn’t pay them any mind; he’s here for Nie Mingjue and him only.

Jiang Cheng finds him in the main hall, just like the disciple told him, and even before he notices Jiang Cheng he seems angry.

Furious even, and Jiang Cheng thought they were long past that stage.

“What is going on with you?” Jiang Cheng asks as he steps into the hall, not even properly greeting Nie Mingjue, whose face immediately closes off when he sees Jiang Cheng. “Are you dying? Is there an imminent thread to Qinghe?”

“Why would there be?” Nie Mingjue gives back, clearly puzzled enough by Jiang Cheng’s questions that he answers and Jiang Cheng stares him down.

“Because those two are the only possible excuses I would accept for your continued absence at Lotus Pier and your ignorance to me reaching out to you,” Jiang Cheng snaps at him and Nie Mingjue scoffs at him.

“I wouldn’t want to impose any further, now that you are busy.” He says the last word with a sneer and Jiang Cheng frowns at him.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he demands to know and Nie Mingjue crosses his arms in front of his chest even as he continues to avoid eye-contact with him.

“There have to be a lot of preparations to be made, now,” Nie Mingjue says and his words still don’t make any kind of sense to Jiang Cheng.

“Preparations? For what? You know we have the harvest season handled, and besides. That never stopped you before.”

“Don’t be so ignorant,” Nie Mingjue hisses at him.

“Then don’t be so cryptic,” Jiang Cheng shoots right back because what the hell is even going on.

“You accepted the courtship proposal by now, I assume. Surely you have other things to worry about than me.”

Nie Mingjue’s words leave Jiang Cheng completely frozen because that is his problem? It takes Jiang Cheng a moment to understand what is happening but when he finally does, he can’t help but to laugh out loud.

Clearly Lan Qiren had been on to something.

“You know if you are this upset by someone proposing a courtship to me, maybe you should have sent in your own proposal,” he tells Nie Mingjue who immediately goes bright red in the face.

“Who says I would even want that?” he whispers out but Jiang Cheng knows him well enough to see how embarrassed he is.

“Well, it’s either me or Lan Xichen, who you seem to think of as the sender of the letter.”

At that Nie Mingjue deflates.

“He’s not?”

“No, he’s not. I would guess he’s busy preparing his own courtship with Meng Yao if he ever managed to send off that cursed letter,” Jiang Cheng gives back clearly to Nie Mingjue’s surprise as he crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Lan Qiren sent the letter.”

“Oh. So you like them older,” Nie Mingjue breathes out and Jiang Cheng hates to see the crestfallen look on his face.

Though it does tell him one thing.

“So you’re not upset that it was Xichen who sent the proposal. You are upset because it’s me who received it.”

“I’m not—” Nie Mingjue starts but Jiang Cheng is not going to let this go on for longer than it has to.

He’s in love with Nie Mingjue, Nie Mingjue apparently is in love with him as well and it’s time that one of them does something about it.

“You idiot,” he sighs out, his voice as fond as it can ever be. “Really, you should have just sent your own proposal instead of sulking here like a moody teen.”

“And if I did—what would you do?” Nie Mingjue asks him, but he already seems much more relaxed and he even smiles back when Jiang Cheng smiles at him.

“This,” he declares and steps forward, right into Nie Mingjue’s space, before he pulls him in for a kiss. “I would do this, then.”

“Mh, I see,” Nie Mingjue whispers and leans in for another kiss. “I think I like that approach.”

They trade kisses for a while but when Jiang Cheng finally pulls back he frowns at Nie Mingjue.

“But seriously? Jealousy?” It’s certainly something he wouldn’t have expected from Nie Mingjue.

“I can’t help it,” Nie Mingjue gives back with a sheepish shrug. “I’ll try to reign it in.”

Jiang Cheng thinks that over for a moment before he gives Nie Mingjue a wicked smile.

“I think it might be hot if you glare at other people for me,” he then decides and doesn’t miss the way Nie Mingjue tries to hide a moan at that.

It seems they both might be into that idea and it’s certainly worth exploring later but for now—

“You better send me that courtship proposal,” Jiang Cheng sternly tells him. “My people are despairing over the fact that I haven’t gotten one from you yet. They have to decline all the others, after all.”

“They have to?” Nie Mingjue asks though there’s a smile on his face.

“It’s a long standing order. All proposals have to be declined.”

“Except mine.”

“Except yours.”

“How long standing exactly?” Nie Mingjue wants to know but Jiang Cheng only glares at him.

“Send one in and maybe you’ll find out,” he dares him and Nie Mingjue laughs.

“Let me get up and I can get it right now. It’s written and sealed.”

Jiang Cheng is outraged by the fact that Nie Mingjue got that far and then still didn’t sent it off but Nie Mingjue kisses the anger right out of him and Jiang Cheng supposes that is one way to deal with that.

“It can wait a while longer,” Jiang Cheng decides and steals another kiss.

Jiang Cheng takes the proposal with him the next morning when he leaves and he pretends he does not notice his disciples cry happy tears when he hands it to them.

Just like they pretend they don’t see the huge smile on his face.

Link to my ko-fi

[fromxxthexxashes]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 9-1-1 (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV) Characters: Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley, Henrietta "Hen" Wilson, Howie "Chimney" Han, Maddie Buckley, Bobby Nash, Ravi Panikkar, Tommy Kinard, Christopher Diaz (9-1-1 TV) Additional Tags: Temporary Evan "Buck" Buckley/Tommy Kinard, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Tommy Kinard Break Up, 5+1 Things, Jealousy, POV Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Coming Out, Bisexual Evan "Buck" Buckley, Gay Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Unreliable Narrator, Awkward Conversations, Repressed Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Pining, Internalized Homophobia, Religious Guilt, Catholic Guilt, Minor Eddie Diaz/Marisol (9-1-1 TV), Eddie Diaz/Marisol Break Up (9-1-1 TV), off screen breakups, muay thai, Dancing, Eddie Diaz teaches Evan "Buck" to dance, Emotional Infidelity, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, 9-1-1 (TV) Season 7, Getting Together, First Kiss, Making Out, Soft Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Endgame Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz Summary:

“This doesn’t change a thing between us, okay?” Eddie promises, but something about it feels like a lie.

Eddie didn’t think that Buck was an option.

Before it was easy to ignore the way his heart would soar when Buck was around, or the way his stomach would turn to molten when Buck pressed his lips to the opening of his beer bottle, or the way Eddie's skin felt magnetically drawn to Buck’s. Buck not being able to reciprocate was a good reason not to think too hard about his feelings. Now, maybe there’s a good reason to acknowledge them.

Except-

“I kinda can’t stop thinking about him.”

Eddie hopes whatever hurt he feels doesn’t show up on his face. He’s too afraid to look at Buck to see, so he takes a moment to grieve something he has no right to grieve - because it was never his in the first place. It’s never going to be his. That’s just not something he’s allowed.

 OR

Five times Eddie sees Buck happy with someone else, and one time he realizes that Buck is happy with him (and that, maybe, Eddie is allowed to be happy with Buck too).

.

Realized I forgot to post about this on here, but I posted a little something on Ao3 a couple of days ago 🤗

[dailyklanceficrecs]

And I'll be your safety by Queerklancing

“I don’t get how you do it.”

“What?” Hunk asks, eyes already fixated on the tablet in his hands.

“Keep up with Lance. Isn’t it… annoying that he’s so clingy all the time?”

Hunk chuckles. “Nah, I don’t mind. He does it with everyone.”

Keith almost flinches at that.

“Really?” he asks, hoping that Hunk doesn’t hear the edge to his voice.

“Yeah, you didn’t notice?”

“No, not really. He doesn’t—I mean… he bothers me, but he’s never…”

Hunk snorts.

“Yeah, well, you’re his rival after all. It would be weird if he just started cuddling with you.”

“Right.”

[words: 9,077, chapters: 1/1, rating: G]

[kanthonyficrecs]

Featured Fic (Canon Divergence)

The Blacksmith by xtenn Rating: M Status: Complete Summary: Kate leaves London, heartbroken, when Anthony refuses to return home ... but once there, she falls off her horse and breaks her leg. Panic ensues when the horse returns to Aubrey Hall with no rider. A messenger is sent to London, but Lord Bridgerton similarly cannot be found. Who will find her?

[virtie333]

Beg, Borrow, or Steal - Part 3 - Chapter 5

Poe confronts his feelings

[solariswrites]

Reckless

Reckless. Reckless. Reckless. 

Phayu’s replacement word for stupid. Instead of instilling determination and anger what Rain was feeling in the moment was pure disappointment and frankly resentment. He was confident that if Sky was in this seat right now there wouldn’t be a lack of trust going on. Just fear that Sky was pulling away from him. Rain? No he gets the distrust and belittling like he isn’t a grown ass adult in a relationship with these three men. He loathes his feelings right now which makes it worse. All he did was go with Aye, Thua, Kan, and Rain’s new friend, Zain. 

He knew it was going to be an adjustment for him, Sky, and Phayu when he changed majors; Prapai had been the most supportive of him switching to the Arts to focus on his writing degree. And to Rain, Prapai was the only one being supportive now because this was getting ridiculous. He had a right to spend time with his friends from his new faculty and old childhood friends too. They’d come here to get inspiration for their own projects and had accidently gotten stuck with Kan’s suv then walked back just as the storm started to roll in their direction. Akk had taken the other three as Rain had assured Zain that it was fine to leave with a brooding Phayu, annoyed Sky, and their ever peacemaker Prapai.

“This was beyond reckless. You should have called us before leaving town. This is what happens when you hang around Ayan and Zain. You do reckless things like this. Going out in the middle of nowhere with no cell reception and a trail till you hit the main road…” Phayu’s words cut through Rain’s thoughts and he’d had enough. He didn’t give two shits that they were stopping at the stop sign in the blistering rainstorm. He wasn’t going to sit here and take anymore of this criticism for another second. 

“Yu…” Prapai started but Rain cut in. It hit him the silence coming from Sky and Prapai as Phayu had scolded him. They agreed with him. 

“And what P’Phayu? Wait for my busy boyfriends to decide for me if it’s alright to take a day trip with a group of friends that wasn't even supposed to take half the day? When without hesitation all three of you just drop whatever you want to do into our calendar? Do you know how hard it is to plan something or do something with you all when you do that to me? I take one day, hell not even a day; I take one lousy couple of hours… ” Rain angrily spat back, reaching for the door. “I don’t know what I’ve done to make you think I’ve consented to being treated like a fucking child but I haven’t. I deserve the same trust and respect as you clearly give each other.” 

“Rain!” Sky struggled to stop him from getting out just as much as Prapai. Phayu was stunned for a moment before he rolled the window partially down. 

“Get back in the car!” Phayu ordered over the heavy downpour, not that Rain was listening. He just flipped him off and started walking his way towards the village so that he could stay at another hotel. He sure as hell wasn’t staying with them. 

Suddenly a pair of arms wrapped around him but the self defense classes he took since the incident with Stop allowed him to easily twist and shove the owner of said arms away. He glared at Phayu as soon as their gazes locked. 

“Don’t touch me! Venus!” Rain yelled, Sky and Prapai joined Phayu across from him. Their eyes wide that he still wasn’t budging on letting them near him. “I am not getting back in that car. You all say you love me but this isn’t how you show it. Trust goes both ways. I am so sick and tired of having to prove myself.” 

“You don’t have to, but we need you to get back in the car. It’s…” 

“Reckless right?”

“No, Darling, not safe! I just want us all safe. So please get into the car.” Phayu tried to get the younger man to listen to him.

“Baby that’s not what we meant.” Prapai tried to apologize as he shared a look with his partners. 

“Yes it is! I said venus P’Pai!” Rain quickly dodged Prapai’s hand. He knew it was instinctual because of how Prapai was tactile. But it still felt like they weren’t listening. That he hadn’t earned a voice. 

“We do trust you Rain, we were just scared!” Sky gave back and the look in his eyes let him know that this was true for Sky. 

“Of what? What happened before with that asshole repeating? Well it’s not going to happen again…” Rain found himself trying to console him  but shook his head, “No, you refuse to actually believe me that I can take care of myself. I retook the classes and I checked in a lot.” Rain snapped as he flailed his hands. “But it’ll never be enough will it? No matter what I do I’ll just get to watch you three thrive off each other till you tire of me just standing there.” 

“You’re not standing still.” Phayu cut in, “And we do tru-“

“You don’t get to tell me how I feel.” Rain argued, “especially when I cause you to turn into this jealous monster!” Those words earned a sudden shiver to go down his spine at the look Phayu gave him. He for sure thought that the man was going to start chiding him for his language. 

“You don’t get to tell us either. But yes, I’m jealous. But it’s not because I don’t trust you, darling, it’s because I loathe that Zain gets to spend all this time with you that used to be ours. I love you…We love you, Rain, and if you need us to stand out here in this storm all night to tell you all the reasons why we do, then we will.” Phayu argued right back and like that it was like all three of them despite the storm were on the same page. The focus on him was a bit overwhelming.

He was about to respond when Sky spoke first, “I’ve always loved your determination. It’s beautiful, wild, and unique to you.” Sky slowly reached out to Rain. Just as carefully, Rain felt like he could handle them coming closer. When he did, Sky lifted their joined hands to press a kiss to Rain’s knuckles. 

“You’re my buttercup.” Prapai stepped closer next, his hand reaching up to cup Rain’s cheek. His thumb rubbing softly over rain soaked skin, “Our love is different and so open despite all the bites the world has taken. Your bravery and willingness to adapt are just some of the reasons I love you, buttercup.” He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Rain’s forehead then he stepped back to let Phayu come closer. 

“Verbena?” Phayu asked, knowing it was his fault the fight had sparked anyways. Rain nodded and this time they stepped towards each other. Phayu cupping Rain’s face gently. “I love that you trust me with all of you and that you inspire me to be a better lover to us. You’re amazing and so beautiful, darling.” He leaned, pressing the softest kiss to Rain’s lips. When Phayu went to pull back Rain, gripped the now soaked through v-neck to keep him from moving away as he chased the kiss. This one thought carried a different feel as they poured their apologies and love for one another into the kiss. 

“Oi! You were supposed to kiss his cheek, you jerk! Jealous and greedy is more like it. Where is ours?” Prapai’s voice pulled them from their moment. 

“How about we have this conversation in the car?” Sky shivered as Rain laughed, resting his forehead on Phayu’s shoulder. He didn’t need to look to know that Phayu was sending Prapai a look. 

“Okay.” Rain agreed. He reached out for Sky, the two of them squeezing their hands before Sky headed inside. 

“Well I am not going till I get my kiss.” Prapai continued to tease. Rain wiggled his fingers towards the older man to draw him into a kiss. Those dark eyes beamed as he stepped closer, kissing Rain softly. 

“Now you have one. Let’s get back in the car and to the hotel before we all get sick.” Phayu guided them back to the jeep. Prapai wrapped his arm around the other side of Rain as they walked then stole the younger man into the backseat where they could cuddle until they got to the hotel. 

Read More of my works on AO3 for LITA

[aftgficrec]

what are your (new or old) fake dating andreil favs?

Love some fake dating!  Here’s a nice long list of previously recommended fics from which we’ve pulled some favourites, plus some new fics getting their first mention here.  Have a great time reading! - S

Also see …

long cute fake dating here

fake dating (K)andreil here

‘In My Defense, I Have None’ here (completed) (feat. fake dating Jean & Neil, leading to Andreil)

‘Let the bells ring on a fool’s holiday’, ‘I Found Love Where It Wasn’t Supposed to Be’ and ‘For He’s a Jolly Good Felon’ here

‘You've Begun to Feel Like Home’ here

‘Fake It ’Til You Make It’ here

‘Married to the Game’ here

‘At The Prince's Behest’ here

‘Bittersweet & Sugar Free’ here

‘Friday Night Big Screen’ here

‘Wanted: Random Guy’ here

‘For Better or For Worse’ here

‘Heaven We're Already Here’ here

‘Chemistry Experiments’ here

‘The Bodyguard’ here

‘Like A River’ here

‘I'll Follow You (into the light)’ here

‘If it puts food on the table then so be it.’ here

‘stone heart (broken open)’ here

New recs:

A Thousand For a Kiss & Fifty Cents For Your Soul by NikNak22 [Rated M, 11619 words, incomplete, last updated July 2022]

Neil Josten and Andrew Minyard, two movie stars in their own right, have never had the pleasure of working together - and neither is sure if this is a good or a bad thing. But when Kevin Day comes calling, providing a unique opportunity, they both jump at it. Cautiously, they begin filming together for the first time on set, both slow to trust and quick to deny the spark burning between them.

But as time goes on, neither can continue pretending that what they feel is an act. That they're merely playing a part. Not when they've both been given a glimpse of what can happen when you overcome the fear of being known and finally let someone else in.

tw: panic attacks, tw: homophobia

racing hearts by josten_minyard [Rated T, 3486 words, complete, Aftg Summer Exchange 2022]

Andrew asks Neil to go on a date - only, it's a fake date, to enter a running competition (couples only) for a chance to win the golden prize of a month of free ice cream. Still, Neil will take what he can get.

Now, if only he could get his stupid feelings under control.

Fire and Ice by alexis_needs_sleep [Not Rated, 26400 words, complete, 2022]

Andrew was Neil’s best friend in the whole world. When his usual friend-date canceled on him, he knew Andrew would be the perfect person to keep him company at his track team's banquet. What started as one friend-date spiraled into several dates and an entire fake relationship, which Neil was 100% sure was the most convincing fake relationship that ever existed. All he had to do was not tell Andrew that he was actually in love with him the whole time. Easy enough, right?

Just for Show by butitknewme [Rated T, 1294 words, incomplete, last updated June 2022]

alison turned abruptly towards andrew from her perch on a stool, and asked suddenly: “is it true you’re dating neil?”

neil was, in that moment, infinitely grateful for andrew’s persistent poker face and their friends’ collective inability to see past it. to neil, he saw the slow blink, the register of surprise, the flick of his eyes toward neil’s. to alison, all she saw was unshakeable apathy.

“yes.”

though the answer shouldn’t have come as a surprise (neil knows how much andrew loves to create chaos, and how unwilling he would be to throw neil under the bus), the easy response still sent a jolt down neil’s spine. it must be because it's the first time he’s heard andrew lie.

masking his own surprise, he turned to nicky and alison, hands spread before him. “see? i can’t believe you guys thought i was lying.”

----

or the one in which neil josten fake dates his best friend andrew minyard... and it goes about as well as you would expect.

Old(ish) faves:

Read between the lines series by butallmystars [Rate E/T, 39169 words, complete, 2022]

Part 1:  Read between the lines (E, 32722 words)

In which Neil has a work conference across the globe and Andrew is not above lying to corporate for a week in Italy with his best friend.

Part 2: I wasn't pretending (T, 6447 words)

Read between the lines chapter five from Neil’s point of view. Radio silence, the gala & drunk texting.

A Book for Christmas by CurvedYellowFruit [Rated T, 13736 words, complete, 2021]

Andrew joins an online book club to stave off boredom. None of the other book club members have any opinions worth engaging with, but one person is particularly infuriating. Andrew decides he hates Smart_Alec10 - right up until he suddenly doesn’t. Cue adoptive-parent Nicky pestering Andrew about Christmas dinner, and you have a recipe for fake dating and a trope-filled Christmas.

dating & other disasters by lolainslackss, moonix [Rated T, 51086 words, complete, 2019]

Andrew thought it couldn't get any worse than having to watch Neil go on disastrous date after disastrous date with other people. Until Neil had the bright idea that they should fake date to mess with their friends.

tw: alcohol

Nine Weddings and No Funerals by gluupor [Rated T, 28578 words, complete, 2019]

Neil's just been unceremoniously dumped by his longtime boyfriend before a busy wedding season where it seems like everyone he knows is tying the knot. Desperate not to look like a pathetic loser in front of his ex, he goes along with a plan to bring along a fake boyfriend to the weddings. Since neither Neil nor his date Andrew are interested in pursuing a relationship, there's no chance that anyone's feelings will be hurt.

tw: acephobia

The Bokeh Effect by fuzzballsheltiepants [Rated T, 13239 words, complete, 2019]

Neil is struggling as a freelance photographer when the opportunity of a lifetime presents itself. Unfortunately, a casual lie told during his initial interview leaves him scrambling to find a "partner" ASAP. His best option? His ex-best friend/ex-roommate, who ghosted him the day after graduation.

Neil is in some serious trouble.

[ballerinalouis]

some of u are doing such a disservice to MY will the wise in the name of...*double checks notes* uhh, mike wheeler for some reason? and i will not stand for it.

Pls consider instead that this was the most will byers thing he's ever done!! The suffering in absolute silence? Internalizing everything as a means of control?? over a situation he is absolutely WISE to? Like he isn't dumb!! He sees the bigger picture and he does what he has to and he falls on this, like, emotional sword for both of them despite being actively hurt by their continued relationship.

Pls consider that Mike not noticing is 1000% par for the course at this point. In vol 1 he didn't notice that El was lying to his face or that angela was bullying el right in front of their milkshakes...... Will had to spell it out for him! Mike had absolutely no idea. The child is oblivious and has a skewed worldview. but me n will love him despite it

And the byers roles in vol 2 were all about buying (bying?? ha) time from outside of hawkins. Joyce with Hop physically to weaken the hivemind or what have u, then we have Will sort of buying himself time by half-confessing while also sacrificing his own feelings to emotionally strengthen El, who was in turn buying time for Max and the hawkins gang in Max's memories!

Is the buying time thing a reference to some of the changes they had to make due to covid stuff? Is it a thematic thing that ties in with vecnas clock and the wider implication that mental health is a constant uphill battle, but also one that we are essentially all fighting together? Am I giving the duffers too much credit? I will tell u when I rewatch.

But I digress!!!!! Will knew he could do Els feelings for Mike justice because will knows how it feels to love Mike! and so he did what he had to do. This is him saving his closest relationships because he understands whats at stake even just on an emotional and interpersonal level. It also directly results in them saving the world so thats my thing

[wysteriaz-blog]

Two Worlds Collided & They Could Never Tear Us Apart

Chapter 5: Resolutions

The group finally bonds a little before moving on to Mount Natagumo when the crow informs them of another mission.

Or read the series on Ao3 / Wattpad!

▪︎☆°○°☆ Playlist ☆°○°☆▪︎

Sunlight filters through the window and you blink a few times, rubbing your eyes with a yawn as you sit up. You feel weary and still ache a little but otherwise feel fine, considering everything that happened yesterday. You sit on the bed for a few minutes as you wake up a little more and just drift into your thoughts. You had so many questions and you desperately wanted answers. Since you first woke up here and were found, it's been about a day and a half but you weren't too sure, it all sort of blurred together and you were out for a while.

You thought you would have at least one answer by now and gained a memory but everything was still blank. Anxiety trickles in as you worry if you'll ever regain your memories, if you'll always be left wondering what people are saying, or if you can ever go back to where you came from—if you belonged anywhere. They were scary thoughts and you didn't have the energy to try and deal with them, so you push those thoughts away and decide to finally get up and face the day.

You stand and tidy up the little bed before going over to the door and sliding it open, being careful to not make too much noise in case anyone else is still sleeping. You step out and look around the hallway feeling a little unsure of what to do, it didn't seem like anyone else was up and around. You had no idea where anything was besides the boy's room and the bathhouse, which was outside and you could honestly use some fresh air, so you quietly pad past their room and down the hallway until you reach the door to go outside.

Once you step outside you take a deep breath, the air crisp and cool. The leaves on the trees rustle with a small draft of wind and birds chirp softly, welcoming the start of a new day. It was so quiet. You couldn't help but admire all the beautiful trees and flowers growing around the estate, the cobbled stone pathways that lead around the yard, the sunlight casting a warm glow over everything and dewdrops glittering in the grass—it was peaceful.

After wandering around for a couple more minutes you head back to the main building. You aren't really paying attention so you're a little surprised to see the old lady standing at the doorway when you reach the front steps. She gives a small smile and you do the same, following her inside as she motions for you to follow her. She leads you into a bigger room with a table and cushions, ushering you over to take a seat while she starts bringing out some food. You sit with your hands in your lap, fidgeting and feeling awkward as she flits around the room.

You didn't want to seem rude or anything, you wanted to help but she must understand the look on your face because she just grins and shakes her head as she walks by, holding a finger up as she exits the room. You let out a sigh as you slightly hunch over and start to mindlessly pick at your finger, biting your lip. The sound of voices startles you to sit straight back up, swiveling your head to see the old lady coming in with the others close behind. They all shuffle over to the table as the old lady says something and bows before quietly walking away.

"Good morning, Y/n-san," Tanjiro greets you with a sleepy but bright smile, sitting across from you.

Zenitsu takes the spot to your left, also beaming at you while the masked man takes the right side and plops down with a huff, not saying a word as he crosses his arms.

You really have to learn his name, you don't want to keep referring to him as the crazy, wild, boar masked guy... even if that's what he was.

"Did you sleep alright?" Zenitsu asks, garnering your attention. You slightly raise your brow and he rubs the back of his neck. "Oh, that's right..."

It's quiet for a moment until Tanjiro claps his hands together and starts to hand out the plates that were sitting in the middle of the table, encouraging everyone to start dishing up. They all begin to reach and grab items from the various dishes and place them on their plates as you just sit back and watch. You were definitely hungry and you regretted not eating last night when the old lady had offered you something but you felt weird for some reason, like you shouldn't be taking any food. You didn't belong here, this food wasn't meant for you.

Your eyes linger on the dishes but quickly look away to wander around the room until you notice everyone has stopped and is staring at you. Your eyes shift between them, feeling a bit uncomfortable being stared at and feeling so out of place. You can't help but avert your eyes and stare at your lap, your hands scrunching the fabric of your pants.

Tanjiro looks concerned and calls out to you softly. It takes a few seconds for you to acknowledge him but he doesn't seem to mind as he just smiles. He tilts his head as he grabs a dish and carefully holds it up to you, watching as you scan over it and purse your lips. You slowly take a piece of food and set it on your plate but don't take anymore and awkwardly put your hand back down. Your eyes widen as Tanjiro wordlessly puts a few more pieces on your plate, then proceeds to grab another dish and holds it up to you—that soft and caring smile still adorning his face. Zenitsu copies him and eagerly holds another dish up and you crack your own smile, starting to warm up a little and feel a bit more at ease.

They were so kind, patient, and understanding...

They keep pointing dishes out and offering them to you until you get a good amount and they were confident you would grab whatever else you wanted now. Everyone starts to happily eat and even grab seconds when done with their first helping. There was a lot of good food but there was something that had small round balls on a stick with a sweet sauce glazed over them, which you quickly took a liking to and you really wanted another one. You go to grab it but stop when you realize it was the last one. It wouldn't be fair to the others if they also wanted more.

Another hand quickly snatches it and you watch as the man with the boar mask—which he obviously took off earlier to eat—grins to himself, with rice sticking on chin as he holds it up and cackles. He catches your eye and you're a little disappointed to not have more but it wasn't a big deal. He might want it more than you do as he could be hungrier and need more food, you wouldn't be surprised seeing how ferociously he ate. All of them actually ate a lot more than you did. You just had a really bad sweet tooth, you didn't actually need more food.. so you just give a small smile and lean back, closing your eyes and enjoying the feeling of a warm and full belly.

Clank!

Something drops on your plate so you peek an eye open to see what rattled it and spot the sweet treat. Your eyes widen and you glance at the man only to find his head turned away with an unreadable expression. You can't help but grin and look at the treat again, noticing that it had four pieces on the stick, so you take them off and decide to split them between you all. Zenitsu giggles and coos as he eagerly takes the piece you offer him. Tanjiro has a fond and grateful smile, thanking you for being so kind and thoughtful, calmly taking the piece. The boar man eyes you from the corner of his eye as you offer the last one, slowly turning back to snatch it from your hand with a grumble and a small frown, face slightly red. You all sit back and enjoy the treat.

This was nice, sitting and sharing a meal with new friends. Well, could you even call them that? You'd only known them for a short while and haven't really gotten to talk or get to know each other all that well but they're probably the closest thing to friends that you'll have. Maybe you would actually grow closer and you could figure things out together. Last night you did get a feeling that something would happen in the future and they'd be important. There was no need to worry, everything will work out how it's supposed to. Some questions could hopefully be answered now so you turn towards the man whose name you haven't learned yet and clear your throat to gain his attention.

"What's your name?" you ask, as he glances at you.

His brow moves the tiniest bit but you can clearly see the confusion written on his face. You bring your hand up and point at yourself, saying your own name clearly, then pointing at him and asking for his name again. You'd already told him your name when he asked last night—at least you're pretty sure that's what he asked—so maybe this would help jog his memory and he'd get what you're trying to ask. Tanjiro and Zenitsu silently watch the interaction and don't try to butt in, which you don't mind. It would probably be easier if they helped, as you'd already established some little way of communicating and understanding, but you wanted to try talking to someone else on your own and see just how much either of you would be able to understand. While it wasn't ideal to not fully understand someone, it was fun trying and learning how to communicate, so you welcomed the challenge.

You do the same things again and then wait patiently. It seems like something is clicking when he repeats your name slowly. At least, you think he said your name, it was pretty butchered but sounded close enough. You nod and look at him expectantly, practically holding your breath in anticipation, but he quickly frowns and turns towards the other two, grumbling loudly and throwing his hands up. Nevermind...

"What the hell does she want?!"

Tanjiro looks amused, a wry smile forming. "What do you think, Inosuke?"

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking! She keeps repeating her name but I already know that! What I don't know is why she keeps pointing at me! What is she saying?!"

"Well, she told you her name... so, what does that mean you should do?"

His frown deepens. "I don't know, damn it!"

"Okay, so you know her name," Tanjiro says slowly, making sure he was following along, "but does she know yours?"

"...I think so. What's that have to do with anything?"

Zenitsu props his head up in his hand as he clicks his tongue. "So, what I heard is you actually haven't told her your name. Why am I not surprised? A lady introduces herself but you don't even introduce yourself back?"

"Is that what I'm supposed to do?"

"Yes! How do you even talk to other people..."

"I don't. I just fight them and WIN!"

Zenitsu deadpans and Tanjiro just keeps smiling. It takes a couple more minutes before they get him back on track and have him finally tell you his name—Inosuke.

☽☼☾☽☼☾☽☼☾

After everyone—meaning you, Tanjiro, and Zenitsu while Inosuke rolled over on the floor and rubbed his stomach—helped clean up the dishes, you went back outside to enjoy more of the fresh air. The boys went back into their room to finally have the dreaded talk Tanjiro promised them last night. They behaved as normally as they could at breakfast for your sake, but there was still some tension in all of them. They sit down on their beds and avoid direct eye contact. Tanjiro realized very quickly that he was the one who would have to keep everyone in check and start serious conversations when needed. It was a little surprising how they quietly listened and waited for what he would do or say, almost like children, younger brothers. This wasn't completely new to him though, as he actually had some experience with this kind of thing. It was kind of like when he had to deal with his younger siblings.

'Back when.. back when they were—'

He would get on them sometimes but they never did anything that was very serious. It was mostly little things; such as reminding them to be careful, making them apologize and own up to their mistakes—like when his little brother had pulled on one of his other little sister's hair—or even just giving them advice. But this situation with you was a bit new and he wasn't entirely sure how to navigate this. He knew that while you aren't from here, you're still a person and you deserve to be treated with the same kindness and respect as anyone else. He knew that not everyone would think or feel the same way though because you were different. But he was going to try his hardest to make sure that while you're with them, you wouldn't need to worry about anything.

He lets out a slow breath. "You remember what I said the day before, right?"

They knew exactly what he was talking about. "...Yeah..."

"I meant what I said... I will not allow any more fighting between us. If need be, I will take care of Y/n-san myself. As part of the Demon Slayer Corps, it is our duty to help others in need, not make things worse. Zenitsu, you also heard what that demon said, right? I asked my crow about it and he told me that she has a rare blood type. She isn't safe if any more demons find out." Tanjiro's eyes are firm but hold a softness as he regards them. "She really needs our help... so, do you think you can stop fighting?"

They nod their heads in resolve and Tanjiro smiles. They had heard what he said before but they didn't take it as seriously as they should have. And Tanjiro was completely serious about this, so they would have to do better. You were a person, just like them and they needed to take your thoughts and feelings into more consideration. They sit in amicable silence for a few moments before Zenitsu's gaze shifts to the box in the corner.

"Umm, Tanjiro, there is something I've been meaning to ask you. You've been traveling with a demon... what's that about?"

Tanjiro's smile falters and a mix of emotions flash across his face. "Zenitsu, you knew but still protected the box... thank you. You're a really good person, you know that?"

"Aww, you don't have to compliment me like that," he says jubilantly but quiets down at Tanjiro's troubled expression. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah... it's just that the demon in the box is my little sister, Nezuko." His smile is sad as he gazes at the box. "Two years ago, my entire family was slaughtered by a demon while I was away selling charcoal, and she was the only one I found left.. but the thing is, she hasn't woken up since that day." Tears brim the lids of his eyes and he looks down, focusing on his hands which rest in his lap and slightly shake.

"O-Oh... I'm sorry."

"Thank you," he mumbles as he wipes his eyes, taking a deep breath before sitting up straighter. "That's why I joined the Demon Slayers. I want to help save others from the same fate. I made a promise that day that I will find who did this, and I will find a way to turn Nezuko back!"

Inosuke leans back on his hands, finally speaking up. "Isn't traveling with a demon against the rules or somethin' though? How do you know she won't wake up and eat someone?"

"I.. don't know for sure.. but I honestly don't think she will wake up. It's already been two years and she hasn't even moved a finger," Tanjiro sighs.

Inosuke just grunts before he stretches his arms and stands up, walking out of the room without another word.

Zenitsu glances at the box with a pout. "I can't even imagine what that's like... I don't know what I'd do if I were you. But I'm here to help," he says earnestly and holds his fist up. "Don't worry, Tanjiro. We'll find a way to get rid of the demons and cure your little sister!"

Tanjiro grins while fist bumping him. "Yeah.. thanks, Zenitsu."

☽☼☾☽☼☾☽☼☾

You sit on a rock by a pond you found while wandering outside the estate, with a stick in your hand as you lazily draw shapes in the water. A fish swims up to curiously nibble at it and you chuckle as you make it follow the stick around for a minute. A noise draws your attention away but you don't see anything so you ignore it, going back to playing with the water. You don't hear anything else for awhile and you get up to gather little sticks, leaves, and flowers and place them around making random things out them. You're so engrossed in what you're doing that you don't notice the figure creeping up to you.

"What are you doing?" a gruff voice speaks behind you.

Startled you spin around with wide eyes as you hold a stick up, ready to whack whoever it was, afraid it could somehow be another monster. You're met with a pink snout, fur and beady eyes—ah, Inosuke. You lower your hand and let yourself fall onto your butt and release the breath you were holding, relieved it wasn't a monster but he was still a bit of a wild-card though. He just stands there and observes you as you slowly gather your bearings and collect the dropped foliage.

You wonder what he's doing here. He isn't exactly the friendliest person and seems to like his space, but he's out here with you, silently watching you gather things. Since he doesn't say or do anything else, you decide to just go about your business. You get bored of the little structures though and start making a flower crown. You can sense him hovering over your shoulder as you work but don't pay much attention as he wasn't bothering you. It was actually a little nice sitting out here with some company. As you put the finishing touches on the crown, he eases himself down next to you but with a good amount of space in between.

He gestures to the flower crown you made. You pick it up and hold it out to him, watching as he grabs it from you, turning it around to inspect it a little before giving it back. You bring it up and place it on your head. He tilts his head before snatching the crown off your head and putting it on top of his mask. You're a little shocked at the abruptness but an amused smile tilts the corner of your lips. He stares at you before he suddenly gets up and then quickly disappears. Your jaw drops and you glower in the direction he left, a bit upset.

Here you were, thinking you were having a nice little moment until he took your crown and abruptly left after stealing your crown! But he quickly bounds back over from wherever he went, an assortment of flowers and other plants in his hands, dropping them down in front of you. He plops down and scoots a little closer before he takes the crown off and gives it back to you. He points at all the plants he brought and you quickly understand that he was asking you to make another one for him. You grin and nod as he points out which plants he wants and you assemble them into another crown.

Once you're done, you hold it up and he surprisingly leans down to let you place it on top of his mask. You smile and give it a few pats and he sits upright, staring at you as he makes a strange noise—like he did last night when you cleaned the scratches you made on his shoulder.

"Huawww~..."

You can't help but snicker. His boar mask always looks so strange with how its eyes stare, but it's sort of cute with the flower crown on. He notices your snickering and quickly snaps out of the weird, bubbly-state he found himself in. What the hell?! He felt.. soft? And warm on the inside—kind of like mush—something wasn't right! This weird feeling only started when he met you! What did you do to him?! Were you some kind of demon or something?! He shakes his head vigorously and puffs his chest out as he blows hot air through his mask. His rushed movements have the flower crown slipping down the face of the mask, dangling from the snout and even the mask was slightly skewed. You fall back as your giggles turn into a fit of laughter.

"Eh? What's so funny?!" he yells, swiping the crown away to fix his mask as he glares at you.

"Oh, there's Y/n-san!" A voice calls out cheerfully before tapering off, "and.. Inosuke..."

You turn around to see Tanjiro grinning happily and Zenitsu, who looks a little more serious than usual, making their way over to where you and Inosuke both sit. You pat the ground beside you, inviting them over.

Tanjiro's grin widens as he sits next to you. "Looks like you're having fun, Y/n-san! I'm glad."

"Oh man," Zenitsu groans as he plops down, "I was so worried! Y/n-chan was gone for a while, but then I heard her and it sounded like she was in pain! What was that sound?!"

Inosuke tilts his head back nonchalantly, crossing his arms. "I think she was laughing, but I'm not sure, it sounded like a dying animal..."

"YOU—" Zenitsu pauses and shakes his head. "Uhh, what're you guys doing? What are those things?" he asks, pointing to the crowns you're both wearing.

"I don't know, she made them. They don't even do anything!"

Tanjiro tilts his head, running his eyes over them. "They're not really supposed to do anything, Inosuke, you just wear them on your head. They're called flower crowns and they're quite lovely," he says, admiring the intricately woven plants and flowers with a bittersweet smile.

You offer yours to them, letting them look at it and try it on, smiling as they seem to ask you to make them one as well. You spend the next couple minutes showing them how to make one. Zenitsu messes up a few times so you help him a little more, as Tanjiro seems to get the hang of it fairly quickly, like he already had some experience. Zenitsu's face warms and turns pink as you help him, occasionally brushing his hand as you work carefully in showing him how to weave certain pieces together.

If you asked him to make another one, he wouldn't know how because if he's being honest.. he wasn't paying attention. He was too focused on how close you were sitting next to him, the way your eyes slightly crinkled in concentration, and the sound of your heart was so steady and comforting that he found himself unable to focus on anything else. You were really, really cute... he felt his own heart beat thunderously against his chest, as you smiled when you finished helping him.

"T-Thanks for helping me, Y/n-chan~!" Zenitsu stammers happily, holding the crown up in appreciation as he giggles to himself.

He has a stupid grin plastered on his face. Your heart warms at the sight, so happy to be sharing this moment with them. You felt a little normal, like you were hanging out with your friends and everything was fine. A loud caw rings out above and Tanjiro's crow comes flying down, breaking the little moment.

"NORTHEAST! YOU'RE NEXT MISSION IS TO THE NORTH, NORTHEAST! MAKE YOUR WAY TO MOUNT NATAGUMO POST-HASTE!"

They all share a look and have you follow them back to the house, going to their room and gathering their things. The old woman stops by with another man and he greets the boys before instructing them to sit down. You watch as he performs little tests with them, realizing he's a doctor, and you're happy that they're being checked out because they all looked pretty beat up before and still seemed pretty tired. Your eyes widen as they suddenly start to take their shirts off, so you quickly avert your gaze and purse your lips.

It's not like you haven't seen a man without a shirt before but it felt weird to just look at them. But now that you think about it, Inosuke was already shirtless when you'd met and it didn't matter but he was like that because he was most likely comfortable doing so. Maybe the other two weren't comfortable with showing that much skin, so you are trying to be respectful and not stare. You won't ogle them or anything, but you are pretty curious and want to watch the doctor work, so you take a few quick glances. You also want to see what kind of condition they were in because it was honestly amazing how they were acting fairly normal and walking around, considering everything that happened before.

They're a bit bruised but otherwise fine—how interesting.

Were people here just tougher? So many questions!

The old lady comes over with a cup and sprinkles a few flowers in it, offering it to you. You've seen those flowers on the doors and walls of this place a few times before, it must be important or something. You take it and give her a grateful smile, gently blowing on it and taking small sips as the doctor finishes up his exam. The boys put their shirts back on and speak with the doctor while you enjoy your drink. Once you're done, the lady takes it and goes to put it away while the boys walk over. Tanjiro does the walking motion with his fingers again, so it must be time to start heading out. You all walk outside and the lady follows you out to the gates, smiling as Tanjiro turns to her and bows.

"We're heading out, thank you for everything."

She bows back, bringing her hands together which hold a stone and another object. "I'll bestow good luck upon you."

"We appreciate it!"

They turn around, waiting as she steps closer and strikes the object against the stone, making little sparks.

Inosuke yells at her when he sees this, holding his fist up. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!!"

Tanjiro quickly grabs onto him and holds him down and you try your best to help him, awkwardly holding onto his elbow.

Zenitsu jumps in front of him and shrieks in alarm, "AHHH STOP THAT, YOU IDIOT!!!"

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!?!"

"It's ceremonial," he informs him quickly, holding his hands out. "We're going on a journey and striking sparks is for luck!"

She doesn't seem phased at all by the outburst and bows once more as she wishes them safe travels and luck in battle. They thank her and then you all head out. It's quiet except for the sound of your footsteps on the rocky dirt road until Inosuke speaks up.

"Heads up high? Luck in battle? What's that mean?" he asks, sounding genuinely confused.

Zenitsu deadpans as he wonders just how clueless he really is.

"To be honest, it is a little difficult to explain..." Tanjiro says, pondering how to explain it in a way he may understand. "To hold your head high—I guess it means whatever hand you're given in this life, you're able to conduct yourself in a way that's honorable, so you're never ashamed."

"Hahh..??"

"And wishing us luck in battle, just means she's praying for our safety."

"Well, what about the hand you're given? We have two already!" he exclaims, holding his hands up.

"Well..."

"And why should we be ashamed?!" Inosuke prattles on. "What does it mean to conduct yourself honorably anyway? And why is that old hag praying for our safety in the first place?!? She has nothing to do with us, so what's her game, huh?!" he huffs loudly, throwing his hands up.

"Uhh...."

"Maybe she should worry about her own hand!"

Tanjiro purses his lips and frowns, swiveling his head back around as he picks up the pace and runs further ahead. Zenitsu gasps at how fast he moves and Inosuke immediately sprints to try and catch up with him.

"Errgh, is this a race?! I won't let you wiiiin!!!" he bellows, grinning wildly under the mask.

You wordlessly watch in the back. You didn't need to know what they were saying, you knew it wasn't anything serious and they were just being... well, them. You roll your eyes playfully at their antics—boys will be boys.

☽☼☾☽☼☾☽☼☾

Taisho Secrets

* Inosuke isn't really used to kindness or affection of any kind. You're the first person to treat him the way that you have. It makes him feel weird and he doesn't completely understand the feelings or know what to call them. He just knows they're... not bad? But he thinks you put some kind of spell/curse on him or something because he has no control over it!

* Tanjiro knows what flower crowns are because his sisters—Nezuko and Hanako—used to make them a lot. They showed him how to make some one time, so he memorized them as best as he could, which is why he was able to make one without as much help.

[agome-chan]

Chapters: 4/5 Fandom: Spider-Man/Deadpool - Joe Kelly (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Deadpool - All Media Types, Deadpool (Comics), Spider-Man (Comicverse) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson, Past Peter Parker/Mary Jane Watson - Relationship, minor John Jameson/Mary Jane Watson Characters: Wade Wilson, Peter Parker, Mary Jane Watson, Tony Stark, Harry Osborn, Anna Maria Marconi, Dopinder (Marvel), John Jameson Additional Tags: Regret, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Smut, Anal Sex, Drunkenness, Moving On, Ex Visit, Jealousy, Fluff and Smut, Sexual Humor, Wade Wilson's Inappropriate Humor, Bitterness, Wade Wilson Loves Peter Parker, Bottom Peter Parker/Top Wade Wilson, Insecure Wade Wilson, Peter Parker Loves Wade Wilson, Alcohol, Peter Parker was a little shit but he is better now, Mary Jane Watson Needs A Hug, Post-Divorce, Meeting Ex

Series: Part 4 of Peter and Wade - When I kiss you - series

Summary:

MJ and Wade were waiting for Peter, not for each other. MJ went to Peter’s apartment, drunk. She just had a fight with her fiancé, who was jealous of Parker, even though she said she didn't feel anything for her ex-husband. Yet she went after him, as she had done many times in their back and forth relationship. Wade was enjoying the night with his boyfriend, Spidey, his Petey. Everything was going well that night, it felt like a dream, with luck would have no end. But reality knocked on the door, instead of being Peter back, it was his ex-wife, Mary Jane.

or

Wade thought Peter came back with the food, but it was his boyfriend's ex, to give him insecurities.

[hollygolightlyclub]

in the wake series by Trojie [26k all together]

Teen+ | Mikey/Pete, Patrick/Pete (unrequited)

In a somewhat canon-divergent au, the story follows Patrick through a series of nonlinear snapshots, as he navigates his complicated feelings towards Pete's relationship with Mikey.

This is such an interesting dynamic-- I feel like not many people think about how Patrick fits into the whole petekey conspiracies, so it's cool seeing that be the focus of a fic.. it's not quite a cut and dry poly fic and the characters never really address what's going on because I don't think they really know themselves, but it's all conveyed very… like it feels like a complicated relationship that could happen irl, yk. interesting!!!

[kiwi-bitchez]

The Girlfriend Experience

Eddie Munson x Reader

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

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

Word Count: 20k ahhhhhh!!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still no reply.

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

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

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

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

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

“It’ll be easy. Ask me out.”

“Huh?”

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” you cut him off.

“WHA-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh-huh…” he stares at you blankly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“From bugs?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Am I what?”

“Are you asking me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“’S that sufficient for a first kiss?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, I was just waiting for-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh my god, fuck off!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jackpot. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, maybe this was a bad idea. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Apparently not,

Days pass, and no call. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, crystal clear Eddie.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And there he is.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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