#especially since the dream was me reading/living through some new book…

[pblovesjelly]

Can’t believe I had a dream about Dragon Age…

#especially since the dream was me reading/living through some new book… #what crime have i committed to recieve such hell #of course since it was in my mind the book was good #literally screamed and paced around the room at one part revealing oghren turned into the sentient darkspawn #and was trying to get a message out that he came across a baby archdemon and shit was about to go down #once again…love dragon age wish it was good #im so mad that I woke up because dream me and i guess me me was invested

[solbaby7]

Wanting You, Wanting Me

pairing: azriel x reader

based off an anonymous request- got carried away but I tried to stay within the guidelines; this was actually a really cute concept

warnings: angst at first but it gets fluffy towards the end, swearing, jealousy, mutual pining, mentions of nightmares, sleep deprivation, probably some typos

summary: Silent yearning only remains silent for so long when you suspect your crush likes your best friend instead

--

Elaine was like flowers budding in the Spring; new and fresh, full of promise and beauty. She was kind and caring, compassionate and soft-spoken, dainty and slender—all the pretty things that males loved in women.

Or maybe it was just her.

Because you were fairly new and fresh too; just barely in your twenties and full on the idea of life and love and everything in between. Maybe you weren’t as kind, not as nice or welcoming; you didn’t always have the right words and in lou of sounding stupid or making a fool of yourself, you stayed quiet.

Watching; observing, learning the family around you as you navigated your place in it. Everyone already had their role; playing their parts as if they’d been trained their whole lives for it and even Feyre and her sisters had fallen into a steady rhythm after the Cauldron. But with all the new additions, couples pairing up and friendships pre-established a hundred years before you were even a thought—your place there seemed less clear.

Especially since Azriel had started paying such special attention to Elaine and her annoyingly beautiful garden and the plants that seemed to thrive tenfold at the mere sight of her.

You didn't mind at first; the three of you falling into a steady rhythm of hanging out together, taking walks and sharing stories but somewhere along the lines he stopped looking at you when he'd laugh. Envy builds for a woman too kind to deserve it and it makes you feel even worse--masking your distaste with soft smiles that you hoped looked as welcoming as hers.

You can’t even help the turn your thoughts take but no matter how much envy fills you; there’s not one con that presents itself when regarding her.

It becomes subconscious, the way you mimic her; fixing your posture, hands reaching to push back strands of hair and smoothen out the fabric that the soft curve of your stomach. Silently nitpicking parts of you that you’d never considered wrong before but that had to be when everything Elaine had got was so right.

He walks in like you’ve summoned him, steps silent and sure. “You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” You mutter a beat too late, only realizing he was regarding you when you’d finally glanced up over the book in your hands.

You’re acutely aware of his every move, the radiating warmth of his body contrasted by the cool kiss of his shadows sifting through your hair when he leans over the back of the couch. The smell of his soap reaches your nose when he leans in, hazel eyes skimming over the pages you're reading and you thank the good Mother above that you’d gotten past the naughty scene three pages ago; where the good guy who pretends to be bad slides his fingers between the maidens thighs, urging her to be silent as he worked her over through her clothes while being surrounded by a whole camp full of males and a looming threat lingering somewhere in the trees. “Bad dreams again?”

You pray he doesn’t catch the slight uptick of your heart rate, the closeness forcing your body to react without permission and it takes great effort not to tear the delicate pages under the pressure of your fingers alone. “Something like that,” You grit out, reminded of the nightmares that assaulted your slumber; the sight of Elaine and Azriel—kissing. Enough to rip you awake and force you to empty all of your stomach contents; you’d just barely made it to the bathing chambers, hairs sticking to your cheeks and nightgown damp with sweat as you leaned into the toilet.

You still hadn’t been able to keep anything down; stomach too unsettled and brain spiraling enough to distract away any signs of hunger.

“She’s been getting them all week,” Elaine softly adds, fingers busy with her knitting needles and yarn; a new blanket for you to add to the giant collection neatly folded your closet. “—won’t drink the tea I made for it though.”

“Because the tea makes them worse and then I wake up from them with my body still paralyzed,” You’re quick to say, familiar with your best friends tactics in divulging important information to the shadowsinger to ensure you actually did something about it—that you took care of yourself. “I’ll happily keep just the bad dreams.”

Azriel's not even looking at you anymore though, already rounding the couch to sit beside Elaine, ball of yarn rolling between them and you can’t help but stare. “Tell me more about this tea?”

“I make it from the plants in the garden,” She points at the window behind them, pale green yarn still wrapped around her finger. “Camomile and ginseng and usually it helps but she just reacts to it differently.”

Azriel hums and you hate the way the words make you feel; like there was another thing setting you apart from the others and this perfect life that didn’t seem capable enough to hold room for all of your imperfections. You don’t wait to hear anymore, steps light and hands quick to stick your bookmark in place and collect your tea cup before you’re gone and down the hall; tears burning in your waterline.

Because, you were sure that if you had to sit there and watch them a second longer you were going to scream.

Scream at Elaine for being so sweet and gentle; so knowledgeable and helpful and certain that it was you that was the issue and not her stupid herbs grown in her stupid garden. You wanted to scream at Azriel until you were blue in the face, listing off every single thing you've ever done to show that the thing between you was way more than just friends. How he was everything and you know that maybe you weren't perfectly skinny like Elaine was but you'd always found great beauty in things that were different.

You can’t tell if you’re happy or not that no one comes to check on you the whole four hours it takes for you to relax; binging the entirety of a book until you were too focused on someone else's life to focus on your own and only once you'd finished the book in it's entirety were you forced to leave the room in search for the one that followed.

The library is empty when you enter, only a few lights still burned and you’re already murmuring soft words to yourself while you search around for what your looking for, fingers bumping over the slides of books; their engraved titles all unique and beautiful and probably interesting but still not quite right. It takes some time but you’re certain you’ve found it, a few rows higher than you can reach but it’s easy to drag over a chair for assistance. "Come on," You mutter, nose scrunching with strain as the tips of two fingers graze the burgundy spine. You’re prepared to jump and pray the chair doesn’t collapse beneath you when the book simply slides out and floats down to you, cool shadows twirling up the length of your arm as if to stabilize you as you step down. “I didn’t need help,” You grumble without looking at your savior, the weight of the book now in your palm and excitement swirls at the thought of more.

“You never do.”

You don’t mean to be so snappy but the sleep deprivation takes a toll and it was becoming harder to distinguish truth from dream; your brain always stuck on his mouth leaning in for Elaine’s and the anger that ensues is all consuming. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Azriel shrugs, sighing as if he knows how this conversation will end and in no way will he ever come out on top. “I don’t know—just don’t get why you wouldn’t have told me you haven’t been sleeping.”

“Because, Az, what would you have done? Help Elaine make me tea’s? No, thanks.”

Confusion spreads on handsome features, hazel eyes fierce even with his lids lowered. “What does Elaine have to do with any of this? Because she told me?”

The breath you let out is heavy, defeat settling in once you realize the hole you’d been digging yourself and it’s a struggle to heave yourself out and drag the chair back to its original spot but Azriel’s there in seconds. He’s quiet; waiting for an answer as he takes it from your hands. “No,” You concede, all fight leaving when it was a one-sided battle. “She doesn’t have anything to do with it. It’s fine—I’m just tired.”

“Then sleep,” He urges softly. “I’ll stay with you.”

“I can’t.”

You can’t even focus on the words of your page under his stare. You’ve read the first line six times over and you still haven’t fully processed it. The thought of him being nearby as you slept, the thought of his eyes on your body in nothing but a nightgown and your hair free from all its carefully done braids. “Can you tell me what you’ve been dreaming about?”

His brows raise when you suck in a sharp breath, cheeks flinching at the suggestion and you shut the book altogether. “I’d really rather not.”

“What’s so bad you can’t tell me about it?" Azriel's hand covers your own, voice so soft it hurt. "You tell me everything.”

Your heart thumps so hard in your chest you can hear it in your ears, your free fingers fumbling against the other under the table and you can't refrain from the nervous chuckle that pulls free. There's a second where you want to just tell him; to confess your feelings and how much you loved the way he was looking at you but fucking hated how you knew that look wouldn't stay if Elaine walked in. The reminder of her alone makes your body deflate, gaze going far off and Azriel's concern only grows when you stay quiet too long to be normal.

The cool touch of a shadow grazing your cheek pulls you out of it. "I suppose this just isn't worth telling."

It's not the answer he wanted, that much is clear by the frown that tugs on full lips, the wings that tuck in tighter and you want nothing more than to give him everything he'd wanted and more to get his face to stop looking at you like that but before you can say another word, another person enters. "Sorry to interrupt, I was just looking for you.

His eyes instantly go to her, hand pulling away from your own and attitude seeps out when you regard her. "Well, you found me."

Elaine's eyes bounce between you and Azriel as if she could feel the tension in the room that held so thick you could cut it with a knife. Her voice is hesitant when she begins, a steaming pot held in hands covered by thick oven mitts. "I made a new recipe for the tea," You don't even hear the carefully curated list of herbs she rattles off, informing their uses and how well they work together but you can't stop shaking; chest tightening at the way Azriel watches Elaine gracefully flit about the room and you can't stop thinking about how quickly he pulled away his hand. "It's really strong so you can't have too much but the madja said that it would help with the sleeping and the paralysis."

You couldn't of cared less, snatching the kettle from her grasp and in your anger you can’t even hear her gasp, can’t feel the burn of the boiling handle against your palm as you pour a mug so thick it nearly spills over the top. “Thanks, Elaine. Really, I hope it knocks me out for a week.” You don’t stay to take in the worry on Azriel's face or the hurt that laced your friends features. Your book is tight in your grasp and you’re halfway down the hallway when you feel your palm begin to throb.

Your bedroom door shuts with a slam, pure frustration pulsing through your whole being and you can feel it ebbing from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. A sigh pulls when you take an angry sip, it burns your tongue, slightly bitter but it was eased with a little sugar and a teaspoon of honey.

Guilt swells at the kind gesture and your misguided anger; Elaine had only been trying to help, making things to quell the dreams she didn’t even know were centered around her and man you loved but didn't love you back. It weighs on you as you change into your night clothes, smoothening ointment and wrapping thick gauze around your burn; there was no blistering but the angry red mark was sure to remain there for quite some time.

You try to distract yourself, silently sipping as you read your book.

It’s alarming how quickly you relax, the giant mug nearly empty when your book slips between your fingers and thuds to the floor, body slumping into the sitting chair and you don’t even have enough time to drag a blanket over yourself before your eyes flutter shut and sleep takes over.

And this time, you didn’t dream.

There was only peaceful silence and maybe an uncomfortable pressure in your chest that it came and went in waves; too grateful for the relief that settled in your bones to care. It was like you were sinking, body slowly falling into a sea of cushion and comfort and you’d have been willing to stay there forever.

Your brows furrow when a noise pierces through the silence; eyes squinting in the darkness to find the source but the harder you try to make it out, the darker the rooms gets. A hand rubs against your chest, the pressure coming back and this time it’s so hard it makes you cough, eyes clenching shut and it’s like that was the switch to wake you up.

Azriel is leaning over you, hands on your chest and cheeks red with exertion when you cough and cough, soul aching to return to the peace—that silence where there were no dreams. “Why’d you wake me up?”

“Wake you up?” His voice holds no more room for placating to your wants; hands shaking at his sides and it’s then you see the fear. “You didn’t have a pulse. I came to check on you and you were—“ Azriel clears his throat, voice cracking with his clothes disheveled and full lips firm in a straight line as he stood before you, crouching down to meet your eye level. “Tell me right now, what were you dreaming about that was so bad that you were willing to die to stop them.”

Your chest heaves as you take in air, a ringing begins in your ears and you back away; avoiding the words, the conversation—the sight of his mouth on hers. “I can’t.”

“You can and you will."

"Azriel—"

Az groans at your tone, turning his entire body away as if he physically couldn't bear hearing another aversion; another lame excuse as to why you couldn't tell him what was going on when you always did. "Do you not trust me? Is that it?"

“What?”

You'd never seen him so upset, eyes blazing and wings rustling in his frustration as he stood. "I'm just listing shit at this point because all I've done is try to be there for you—me and Elaine, and you just keep pushing us away."

"Oh, please," You snap back, gaining the strength to stand and the ache in your chest only gets worse and you begin to wonder just how long he was on top of you breathing air into your lungs and willing breath to stick with the push of his hands. "If Elaine's around, I might as well just walk right out of the room because that means you'll be otherwise occupied shoving your head up her ass."

"You sound ridiculous." He lets out a gruff laugh, arms crossed over his chest. "Are you jealous or something?"

"It's clear you have feelings for her. I get it—she's perfect and pretty and skinny and obviously you like that sort of thing but don't stand here and pretend you even notice I exist with her there." There's no taking back the words and you don't even care to look into the way his brows furrow at you, words punching at him a mile a minute as a dam breaks and days and weeks and months worth of emotions rage forward with no signs of stopping. "How couldn't I be jealous? When it’s so obvious that you love her and not me.” It feels pathetic to say out loud, hands crossing over yourself as you did your best to remain strong; to get through the feelings even though your skin was on fire and you couldn't stop fidgeting. "That's what my dreams have been about. Why I've been missing sleep and hiding things from you because every time I close my eyes all I can fucking see is you and her."

You don't even realize how much distance you'd been putting between you two, subconsciously searching for a way out when Azriel inevitability let you down easy. "You love me?" Words die on your tongue, feelings laid bare and vulnerabilities left out for his viewing pleasure; eyes like drops of gold boring into you as you gently nod. He sinks onto the edge of your bed, a breathless laugh emitting as scarring fingers traced over the soft fabric of your duvet. "The only reason I started talking to Elaine in the first place is because you and her had gotten so close and I wanted an excuse to be around you."

Your brows furrow, lips parting in confusion and the nerves begin to fade. "No."

Azriel's head nods once, settling into the fell of your room and the little trinkets you'd kept close on the nightstand; pictures neatly framed and resting on books you favored a little more than the others on the shelves. Hand sculpted vases made from blown glass that scattered rainbows across the room when the sun shone through the curtains to feed the bright flowers inside of them. "Yes, but you kept leaving and I thought it was because you weren't interested."

"But, I thought—"

"I think it's safe to say we both were off in our assumptions."

It feels like a dream and not the kind you'd been running away from but the one you'd been sinking and falling into earlier before Azriel had pulled you back. The one that felt like peace and comfort and something like hope begins to brew in your belly when you dare you look him in the eyes. "You like me?"

Azriel's features soften, the fear and worry from before a thing of the past when he stood and walked towards you, shadows kissing at your legs when warm knuckles grazed your cheek. "I love you," He corrects gently, his touch like home and its instinct the way you close the proximity. You can feel his heartbeat on your chest, the strong muscles of his arms itching to be traced and a smile forms at the blush that forms on the tops of his ears under your attention. "—and those smutty little books you've been reading."

His chest is hard when you jokingly smack it, cheeks going hot and eyes darting to the book laid forgotten on the floor. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

The lie doesn't deter him and neither does the little gasp that pulls free when he gently forces you to look up at him, hazel eyes trained on your mouth and the tongue that darts out to wet plush lips. "I'll pretend I believe that if you just shut up and let me kiss you."

Maybe reality was better than dreaming.

Because this time, when he leaned down with intent to press his mouth against another’s for a kiss—it was with you.

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel #azriel x you #acotar azriel #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acowar #acotar #angst #send asks #acotar fanfiction #acosf #fluff #best friends to lovers

[tarotwithlove]

PICK A CARD ⋆ what's manifesting you?

reminder that this is a general reading and messages found here may not apply to everyone. take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and don't force anything if it does not fit.

BOOK A READING WITH ME · LINKTREE · 18+ PATREON · SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC · TIPS ♡ tips and feedback are highly appreciated!

GROUP ONE

cards · the emperor, nine of pentacles (reversed), judgement. travel, new beginnings, manifestation. 

songs · shrike by hozier. better days by superm. no matter what by polo g. 

hey there group one ♡ the simplest way to put it is that everything that you are manifesting is manifesting you as well. the emperor is a card of authority and success, and, here, indicates that what is manifesting you more than anything is wealth and status. 

you may be someone who is constantly worried about finances and about what your future holds for you. even as you work hard and manifest, you may think that the life you want is far out of reach.  but there is no need to worry, because this life wants you as much as you want it. a new life is manifesting you - one where you are safe and successful, one where you can travel without worry, one where you do not have to worry about your finances even half as much as you may worry about them now.

for some, you may become successful entrepreneurs or see significant career success. whatever it may be, do not give up or lose hope, because your success is inevitable. 

GROUP TWO

cards · five of pentacles (reversed), death, page of pentacles. wellbeing, happiness, healing.

songs · break my soul by beyonce. umbrella by h&d. crazy eyes by alex mali.

hey there group two ♡you may be at a time in your life where you are followed by loss, financial harship, and mental anguish. every day you wake up hopeful, only to soon be hit by anxiety, worry, or the reality of your living situation. you are in more pain than you can put into words, and you are trying your hardest just to get through each moment. you are barely living.

but peace and wellbeing are manifesting you - peace of mind, mental wellbeing, emotional wellbeing, and, of course, happiness. these things are on their way to you. the only thing stopping them from materialising in your life is the steps that you must take so that they can come towards you. whether this be in the form of therapy or simply deciding you do not want to live your life this way any longer.

yes, simply deciding is enough. because in this way you are indicating to the divine that you are ready for the the things that are manifesting you to finally come towards you. you are not meant to live a life of suffering and struggle, know this much.

GROUP THREE

cards · nine of cups, queen of pentacles, king of wands. love, freedom, manifestation.

songs · right now by fire from the gods. one and only you by got7 & hyolyn. love story by mariah carey. 

hey there group three ♡ love is manifesting you! for some of you this is, of course, romantic love - the kind of love you have been manifesting and praying for and the kind of love story you have always dreamed you will have.

your manifestations have not been in vein, and as much as you are manifesting love, love is manifesting you in turn. this love is one with someone who is your other half. while they are completely different from you, you feel as if they complete you. with them, you can finally reach your full potential - for this love will only add to and enrich your life. this love will set you free and broaden your horizons, in ways that you never expected love to do. especially since the love you have always experienced and seen around you has been love that was wholly limiting and, in many ways, damaging, 

for others of you, this love is love for your own life. love for a particular career path or passion. whatever love looks like, and whatever form it takes, it is manifesting you and coming towards you. your life may seem devoid of love at the moment, but it will not be the case for much longer. 

#** #tarot #pac #pick a card #pick a pile #pick a photo #manifesting #tarotonline #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #witchblr #spirituality #spiritualism #channelled message #channeled message

[spockandawe]

Double edit: actually, that's enough of that.

Edit: I was expecting maybe thirty notes tops. This is a surprise, and one that doesn't delight me. If I hear about any harassment stemming from this post, I'll be more pissed at the harasser than the person this is about.

God. Dammit.

I hate this, let's just out that out there! I'm unhappy that I'm talking about any of this, I'm unhappy there's an issue that's come up at the intersection of media preservation, respecting authors, and one of my favorite book series. And I'm unhappy that I've censored the names in the screenshots I'm about ti post! I'm not happy that I'm helping to slide consequences away from someone who thought this was an acceptable thing to do to a modern working author. But I'm even less happy this is something that happened in the first place, and I'm VERY unhappy the original post has been deleted without a whisper of accountability or apology.

And here's a partial screenshot of the IA page, which has since been removed. I get the excitement to share something you love with a new audience. This isn't the right way to go about it.

First, if Martha Wells' patreon is still in place, I encourage everyone in the strongest possible terms to go sign up for it. It'll charge you one dollar. I've been a member since probably 2018, and I mistakenly believed it was locked to new members (it's labeled 'Currently Closed To New Patrons') until I had reason to look it up last night, when I tripped across this reddit post from earlier this year.

Now. I was looking it up because of this sudden patreon message:

Even if the patreon goes away, I still recommend that people sign up. Explore the stories! They're very fun! Even though the patreon has been dormant for years, I've loved having that repository in place.

In fact, in the interest of full disclosure, what kept me from immediately reblogging last night is that I've felt the same archival urges! I bound a hard copy of these stories earlier this year, and let me quote my own words from that post:

I live in a state of perpetual low key stress over the impermanence of digital media and that goes extra for sites that aren’t designed to work well as archives. I hope, desperately, that someday Martha Wells publishes more raksura, maybe even including these stories! I will buy it immediately. No thoughts, wallet empty. I own all her other raksura books in literally three formats, fingers crossed that by printing this, I can actualize a formal official printing of these stories by the author 😂

So. Archiving, yes. But especially with a living, working author, I would never DREAM of posting a public free-for-all with IA and mediafire links. My most charitable interpretation is that OP thought it was fine since the stories were "free," even though the writeups acknowledge that access costs a dollar. Ao3 is also free. Reposting someone else's fic is still understood to be a dick move.

Last night i was left kind of stunned, and I was hoping to see some kind of response from op this morning taking responsibility, and was... disappointed to see that the post was just deleted. The IA listing was deleted too, and I hadn't actually looked up the mediafire post yet but I'm guessing it's also been nuked. Out of curiosity, I wanted to see if there was anything more in the comments, so I found a surviving reblog. And there was!

So I'm writing this post because I'm... frustrated. Taking down the files is a good step. Posting them publicly was a worse step, but hey. I still more than understand if Martha Wells still deletes her patreon. I don't understand what sending her files of her own stories is meant to accomplish, but whatever. Ascribing a profit-driven motive is driving me up a wall, though. She's financially stable. I read her email, and what i see is frustration that even though it only cost a dollar to access 62k of her work through her own chosen location, control of her writing is being forcibly removed from her. I'm sure that seeing copies sold by third parties wouldn't help, but I don't think that's the root issue.

This is a fandom-heavy website, I'm sure most of us have seen posts about not reposting art when you can share directly from the artist's blog. I've seen posts about stop copying your ao3 faves over to wattpad just because you like reading there better. At a fundamental level, I read the message from Martha Wells as a deep frustration at having no way to share her creative work without someone removing control of it from her hands. And I don't know if there's any way to really take back that damage.

#long post #the books of the raksura #archiving

[short-honey-badger]

Peppermint Tea 9

Hey guys! On to part 9! I've been doing a lot of thinking on this fic and I think it's evolved into something bigger. Let me know what you guys think!

Warnings! Violence in a dream

Masterlist

Dracule leaves two days later. You send him off with a kiss and a pouch of your peppermint tea leaves and watch him sail away until he is nothing but a speck on the horizon. You shake your head, the forlorn feeling present, but you are quick to shove it down. You had things to do, so you didn't need to be standing around wondering when you would see Dracule again. 

After the incident at the cliff, Mihawk had acted as if nothing had happened, and you were content to let the promise slide. The next two days had been spent quietly reading and getting to know one another. Sweet kisses and wandering hands had invaded each one of those moments until Dracule rose this morning and deemed that he had to go. Business to attend to once again. 

You frown thinking about those words. You want to know what he means by business. You want to know what islands he goes to and who he's met. You have poured over your books and sea stained papers for years, and every single map you have come across never has your island. 

You know the shape and length and every plant and animal that shares this island with you. You and Hank have explored every nook and cranny your home has to offer, down to the sandy beach and up to the small mountain on the western side of the tropical island. And not once have you seen it labeled or drawn on any of the scrolls that wash up on the shore. 

Dracule offered you so little knowledge about himself. However, he could go on for hours about the books he's read, reciting poetry from memory as the two of you sit by the fireplace late at night. Later, he would say that he would bring you more books, either to add to your collection or to replace the old ones. 

Maybe you can convince him to bring some maps so that you can try and find out more about your home. Did you live in any of the Blues? Or was your home in the more dangerous parts of the ocean such as the Grand line and the New World? You had no idea. 

The shaggy body of Hank barreling into you sends the melancholy thoughts from your mind as the big dog pulls your focus on him. He has his stick again, and the two of you play until both of you are exhausted and in need of a good nap. 

The two of you would wake up later than you had intended in the evening and examine the seeds and other goodies that Dracule had brought with him. You had been far too distracted with the man in question to even think about going out and planting any, but now was a good time as ever. You find some empty pots and carefully press the delicate seeds into the soil that you'd gathered from your garden. Once covered, you add enough water to properly dampen the spoil and then place each of your pots on the tall barrels that sit behind your home. You smile down at your hard word, excited for when the saplings break through the soil, though that wouldn't be for a week or two at the least. 

The rest of the day was spent harvesting your other herbs, cutting and drying out the roots and leaves for brewing and leaving the rest to replant. It's satisfying work, and soon, your kitchen is full of drying herbs that make your home smell delightful. Chores done for now: You make yourself a cup of tea from the ones that Mihawk had gifted you and settle on the couch by the fireplace with one of his books. You read until you dozed off, Hank curled up on the floor snoozing away with you. 

~~~~~~~~

“Oh boy, look who decided to grace us with their presence,” Shanks crowed, a grin stretching across his face as he raised his mug of ale up in greeting. It isn't often that Mihawk would show up in a good enough mood for a drink, especially since the warlord didn't want to fight him anymore. 

Dracule rolls his eyes, a sneer on his lips as he casts his ringed eyes over the Red-Haired Pirates and their Captain. He'd seen the Red Force by chance and had decided on a whim to investigate what they were up to. In a way, it was his job to do so, so it wasn't like it was out of his way, “Only to see what you and your lot are doing here.” 

It didn't help that the Yonko had docked on an island only a four day sail away from your home. Shanks didn't hang around the first half of the Grand Line often, so it made him antsy to know that someone so powerful, even with a single arm, was so close to his safe haven. 

“The usual, partying, exploring, having a good time. Something you should definitely do more often,” Shanks tells him, vague and annoying like always. 

Dracule keeps his expression neutral. Shanks was like a shark in the water when it came to finding out things about his once close friend. It would be catastrophic if the redhead found out about you. 

“I have my own way of enjoying my time. One that doesn't involve drinking myself into a stupor every evening,” Dracule quips, but still takes the offered drink despite his words. 

Shanks slaps him on the back, laughing jovially, and Mihawk grimaces when the unexpected contact makes his drink slosh over the edge of his mug. Dracule shrugs off the offending hand with a roll of his eyes. 

“I'm sure you do, Hawkeye. Brooding away in that castle if yours. When's the last time you even spoke to a woman?” Shanks teases and knocks back the rest of his ale then signals the bar keep for a new one with a cheeky wink. 

“A couple of days ago, if you must know,” Dracule admits without thinking about it, and immediately curses himself when Shanks gasps dramatically and crowds his space. 

“What? Tell me about her! What's she like? What's her name? She must be someone special to catch your eye, Mihawk.” 

Dracule shoves the redhead back, regret coiling hot at his mishap. He takes his time by sipping his ale and ignores the manchild whining in his ear and asking questions after question that Dracule would not be answering. His patience soon wears thin, however, and he slams his mug down on the counter with a snarl.

“It is none of your business, Shanks. I never meant to say anything to you about her,” Dracule states, tone tinged in an unfamiliar rage. He doesn't get angry very often, but the thought of playboy, beachbum, Shanks even knowing your name sets his teeth on edge. 

The other pirate captain shows some tack for once in his life and raises his hand in surrender, “Alright. I won't ask anymore,” he says, but a shit eating grin is curling his lips and he leans in close to the warlord, “Ya gotta at least tell me she's a catch though, right?” 

Mihawk huffs and pinches the bridge of his nose. Shanks just couldn't stop could he? 

“As beautiful a fresh blanket of snow, but with a smile that could melt it all away,” Dracule murmurs quietly and Shanks eyes the swordsman in a new light. He had never heard the man wax poetry about someone before. 

“Huh, you must really like her then, huh?” Shanks presses and is rewarded with the sight of Dracule dipping his head in a nod. he sips his ale, thoughts swirling about this mystery woman. 

“Well. I'm glad you've finally found someone that'll put up with your broody ass,” Shanks snickers and slaps Mihawk on the back once more with a big grin. Truly, he was happy that his friend had someone to escape to, especially when their world grew more dangerous every day. 

Mihawk is quiet for a long time, long enough that he has finished his ale and stands from his stool. He tosses enough berri on the counter to cover his drink, and then turns away from Shanks, “Thank you, Red Hair,” he begins and sends the Yonko a look over his shoulder, eyes holding The threat of a fight, “Don't make me regret telling you.” 

Shanks laughs with a shake of his head and waves at Dracule, “I'll try not to, Hawkeye,” he snickers again at the glare that receives for that, but it was definitely worth it. 

Mihawk leaves the island without bothering to learn its name and sets sail for Gloom. He filled the boring trip with thoughts of you, recalling how nicely your cool skin felt upon his heated body. How much he enjoyed listening to you read from the books he's already devoured countless times. How sweet your lips taste when you kiss him so innocently. 

Dracule is not sure when he will go back, but his hands already itch to feel your soft skin, and he is parched for the sweet peppermint tea you grow. The warlord sighs, a great expel of air from his lungs, and looks north to the calm belt, where your island stays protected at its edge. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

The screams of the men and children of your home island echo in your ears as you are dragged through the crowds of people. Your older brother holds you tight by the wrist, pulling you through the throngs of citizens. Your short legs can hardly keep up, but you power through the fatigue to keep up with your brother. 

Your island, your home is being attacked, and you are terrified. You don't understand why it's happening, only know that your oldest brother had woken you up in the middle of the night and packed your largest bag with the essentials. He had instructed you to be silent as the two of you snuck through the castle, away from your mother and father and other siblings that still slept in peace. 

You yelped when you suddenly tripped over a loose brick in the road, sending you to your knees and snow exploded around you and your brother, causing screams to erupt all around. You wince and push yourself up, desperately scrambling for your older brother. 

Gods, you wish you could remember his name. 

“Come on, princess,” He is suddenly there, swinging you up and over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, “We're almost to the port.” 

You watch from your perch as the people of your island run for the castle, panic and fear all around as the town burns and the fields are decimated by someone with an earth devil fruit. Your brother runs as fast as he can to the port, trying to shield his baby sister from the harsh realities of a treaty gone wrong and a dark secret revealed. 

The two of you make it to Port just in time to witness the biggest ship you have ever seen crash into the main docks. The pirates don't seem to care about the destruction they have caused, and you watch in horror, eyes latching onto the symbol that the barbarians proudly wear. It's a bright pink cloud, a skull with bug red lips and with a sun and a tree on opposite corners. 

The sight is broken when your brother rounds a corner, and you grunt when he slides to a sudden stop. You try to turn around and are able to catch sight of a wide brimmed hat with a massive white feather falling from the back. A giant sword rests on the man's back, the hilt oddly shaped like a cross.

“Don't look, Sunshine,” your brother orders, but you don't listen. You can't listen to him. Not when that hat and sword look so familiar. But from where? 

You are still thinking about the strange looking man when the two of you finally make it to the escape ship. Your brother loads you up, and with one last forlorn look at your dying island, he sets sail for Paradise, away from the New World, where his precious little sister would be safe. 

You wake slowly, the dream trickling away like grains of sand in an hourglass. It felt familiar, and your heart ached at the sight of the man who had saved you. With a sigh, you pull yourself up from the couch and give Hank a smile. It was time to start the day. 

@writingmysanity @kenkenmaaa @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff @djbumblebee @goth-mami-writer @myradiaz

#fanfic #one piece #reader insert #fluff #dracule mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #mihawk x reader #op mihawk #opla mihawk x reader #opla mihawk #mihawk x y/n #mihawk x you #peppermint tea

[harmshake]

Midnight Snack

Your late night guest, Daniel Garcia, has a sweet tooth...but not for food.

Daniel Garcia x Fem Reader (1st person, black fem) | 18+ ONLY, NSFW, smut | ~5k words

a/n: This story is based on a sexy lil dream I had about this cutie. 🤭

Happy reading! Read my other Danny fics and stuff here, if you'd like. ✨

Living in Manhattan was a luxury I never thought I would be able to afford. It's New York City and the penthouse apartment I rented would be almost impossible to afford with my salary alone. Since I lived by myself in a three-bedroom and two-bathroom loft, I learned to get resourceful and decided to sublet the spare space to whoever needed it. 

I usually attracted tourists who visited NYC for a few days. I always made my home inviting with a welcome tour; complimentary snacks in a special cupboard and shelf in the refrigerator in my kitchen; and a candle with the scent of their choice for their temporary bedrooms. It was a good gig that paid the bills and then some—and it suddenly got even better when I noticed two familiar names book a night for this weekend.

As I sat in bed with a glass of wine and scrolled through my reservations to gather a list of groceries and goodies to buy beforehand, my usual routine on Sunday nights, I nearly coughed up my Chardonnay when I saw Chris Jericho and Daniel Garcia appear as two upcoming guests. I was a huge pro wrestling fan and adored All-Elite Wrestling—especially Daniel, my favorite member of The Jericho Appreciation Society.

When I watched him wrestle (or "sports entertain" as he would rather people call it), my eyes would be glued to him and his handsome babyface, his lean yet toned body, and his adorable, little hip dances he would taunt his opponents with. He was hilarious, sexy, and a treat to watch on television…and he would be staying a night in my penthouse, oh my god.

I knew exactly why Daniel and Chris were in Manhattan: The AEW House Rules tour passed through NYC this weekend. I already had my ticket. I was a bit shocked that they hadn’t booked some fabulous hotel in town where the venue was, but I figured since they seemed to be traveling alone together they were trying to save money where they could—and I did have pretty great rates. Either way, I was thrilled, no, losing my ever-loving mind that they decided to bunk here.

I spent each day until they checked in agonizing over every detail of my apartment as it had to be perfect for them. Cleaned until it was spotless. Stocked the kitchen with an assortment of sweet and savory goodies. Extra soft linens for the bedrooms. By the time Friday night arrived, I was confident Daniel and Chris would enjoy their stay—but my heart was still trying to escape my chest as I waited for them to emerge from my private elevator. 

I couldn’t help it…Daniel Garcia was about to be here, in the flesh, and inside of my home. I tried and failed to not pace near the lobby as I checked my cell phone a dozen times. Chris gave me a heads up that they would be here late, like past midnight, and he apologized in advance for keeping me awake just to let them in, but I didn’t mind at all. It was only 12:12 am and I was wide awake and ready to greet them.

As the elevator's double doors slid open and two tall men carrying duffel bags strolled into my sight, I fought not to squeal in excitement. It was really them, like, actually Daniel Garcia and Chris Jericho ten feet away from me. They both looked slightly exhausted like they’d been riding in a car all day, but they both wore warm, friendly smiles as they spotted me. It made a stupidly big smile spread on my face, too.

I prayed I looked as decent as two hours' worth of teasing my afro into a puff ponytail atop my head; coordinating my burgundy, crop-top sweatsuit to match my furry slippers that showed off my cute, pastel-pink-painted toenails; and moisturizing every inch of my coconut-brown skin until I was soft and smelled like vanilla.

And when Daniel's deep brown eyes fell on mine before they dropped over my round, yet curvy body, I believed those two hours were well worth it...

It felt like he could see right through my clothes the way his gaze lingered before he looked into my eyes again and flashed the most beautiful smile. “Hey, thanks for waitin’ up. We promise we’re the nicest guests you’ll ever have,” Daniel said in an apologetic tone yet his deep voice was a bit teasing and flirty.

“Yeah, sorry again we got in so late,” Chris said, pulling his sunglasses to the top of his head as he came over to shake my hand. Both men towered over me and made me feel shorter than I already was, but I liked it…and I liked how Daniel looked down at me with a sexy, little smirk on his full, pink lips. 

“No worries, guys. Welcome in.” My heart was pounding hard again but I refused to be a Fangirl™ who couldn’t handle meeting her fave. I took a discreet, deep breath to steady my nerves before I touched my hand to his when he extended it for a handshake…and dammit, he had the biggest, softest, and warmest hands. It made me twitch and I knew he felt it when his lips twitched into another smirk as he let me go. 

“Lemme give you a lil tour before you crash. Y’all look tired,” I replied in almost one run-on sentence as I spoke a bit fast from my nerves, and Daniel’s hands, making me feel delightful yet jumpy. The lobby opened up to the kitchen, dining, and living room so the only spaces to guide them to were their bedrooms. As I led them through my penthouse and opened the door to the first bedroom, I said, “This is your room, Daniel.”

"Is that your room there?" he pointed to the door down the hall.

"No, that's Chris's. I'm in the master across the loft."

He nodded but there was something in his eyes that read like disappointment...

Not only could I read those eyes, I could feel them on my ass as I walked ahead of them to show them the rest of the place. It made my nerves want to act up again until he soothed them with his easygoing charm. The entire time he threw out little quips, making me giggle, and I teased him back, making him chuckle, too.

“What do we do if we need to get a hold of you for…emergencies?” he asked.

“For emergencies, call 911. For more toilet paper, you can just text me.”

“Hmm. I'll just knock on your door if you don’t mind...”

Afterward, both men retired to their bedrooms to shower and unwind. I wound up in the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and Daniel showed up, too...and of course, we brushed past each other when he grabbed a red bag of Doritos from the snack cabinet. My ass accidentally grazing his thigh made us both give each other a heated look, but we pulled away…

I thought I would be sleepy after waiting all day for Daniel and Chris to show up, yet I was wired as hell and couldn’t shut my eyes. I'd threw on my pink tank top and Soffe shorts and crawled into bed, but I was just too excited to have one of my favorite wrestlers (and my pathetic crush) in my home. I laid there for an hour wide awake as my mind tortured me with visions of Daniel lying in his bed across the loft…under the sheets…in his pajamas…or completely naked.

It truly was torture so I pulled out my laptop and watched some old Botchamania episodes on YouTube, my favorite thing to do when I couldn’t sleep. While I could have stayed in my bed to do that, I decided to lounge in the dark living room, sprawled out on my sectional sofa with AirPods in my ears and my laptop as the only light source on the coffee table. I was hyper-aware that Daniel was only a few feet away and I kind of hoped he would pop out so I could see him...but I tried to be normal and just watch my silly, little wrestling botch web series.

Yet when I heard a nearby door creak open and saw light spill out that flooded the living room, it took everything in me not to crane my neck and watch him. I could see the silhouette of his shadow stretch across the living room when he opened my refrigerator, probably in search of another midnight snack. But then his shadow grew bigger as he approached the couch...

“Whatchu still doin’ up? Watchin’ a movie?” Daniel quietly asked behind me. I felt his weight shift the backrest cushions as he leaned his elbows on them. I took out my earbuds and put on the coffee table before I glanced up at him and his eyes shifting from my laptop to mine, making warmth spread through my chest. He had such gorgeous, brown eyes that had an impish glint in them, even in the soft, blue lighting from my laptop screen.

“If you must know, I’m watching Botchamania,” I said, trying to hide the impish smile threatening to grow on my lips at the fact that he chose to talk to me instead of going to bed at this hour—especially when I noticed his hands were empty after rummaging through the kitchen…

“Oh, you a wrestlin' fan? Ah, shit. Hope you don't catch me on there lookin’ stupid,” Daniel said with a smirk.

“I don’t think you don't need much help with that,” I teased him with a smirk, too. It made him laugh before he rounded the couch and loomed over me by my feet. He looked so good in his black tank top that exposed his bulky arms and hugged all of his other muscles. He had it tucked into matching sweatpants and I strained to keep my eyes away from his crotch where his bulge peeked through...

“Well, damn. Lemme watch witchu.” He went to plop down but then let out a grunt at my feet on the cushion under his butt. “Ay, you hoggin’ up the whole couch. Ain't this supposed to be the ‘living room?’ Scoot over and let me live, please.”

I giggled before I replied, “You can live it up over there on the armchair,” and pointed at it on the other end of my coffee table. Daniel shook his head like that just wouldn’t do.

“Nah, I wanna sit right here…” He dared to grab me up by my ankles and take a seat, throwing my legs over his lap. His sudden touch made that warmth in my chest move lower on me, the heat between my legs rising to feel his heat on me. Yet I did my best to hide my surprise as I playfully glared at him.

“So you just makin’ yourself comfortable in my space?” I said and he shrugged as a cute grin tugged at his lips.

“While I’m here, this is my space, too,” Daniel joked. He’d been cautious to keep his hands off my legs, tucking them behind his head after he sat down. But then he slowly placed them over my bare calves, his soft palms on me making me shiver. “Besides…I ain’t got comfortable yet.”

“Oh?” I breathed as his touch carefully massaged up to my knee.

“Yeah…if we cuddled, I think we’d both be more comfortable.” His fingers brushed along my thigh and I bit back a moan as this felt unreal. Daniel being a guest in my home was one thing…but flirting with me with his hands on me was a whole other thing. Yet the look in his eyes as he waited for my response let me know he had more in mind than cuddling…and I was down for that.

“Okay, but this is a small couch. How are we gonna cuddle comfortably?” I challenged him, licking my lips.

“It's simple. You put this thigh here…” He rolled onto his knees on the cushion and softly gripped my right thigh to put around his left hip. I could feel my heartbeat in my chest and my pussy as he spread my legs…

“And this one here…” He rested my left thigh on his right hip. Then he leaned down to gently rest his weight on top of me. My breath hitched to feel him between my legs, to feel his warm breath graze my face as he hovered a few inches away…

“My hands go here…” Daniel said in a hushed tone as his hands slid beneath me to hold me in his arms. “And my lips go here…”

He pressed his pillow-soft lips to mine for a kiss that made that warmth swallow my entire body. I closed my eyes and melted into him instantly, letting his lips lead the slow kiss that made slight smacking sounds as it grew deeper quickly. My hands reached for him, fondling both sides of his face and savoring his flavor, half minty from his toothpaste and half his natural taste, my pussy responding to both as I felt it throb from his saliva on my taste buds when he teased his tongue into my mouth.

The quiet moan I’d been fighting back escaped me as Daniel’s lips fell to my neck. I heard him breathe a chuckle as he kissed my collarbone, as well as my cleavage that peeked through my tank top. “You smell really good. That vanilla?” he murmured against my skin and I nodded with a shy grin. Then one of his hands found their way to the hem of my top that he lightly tugged. “May I…?”

“Yes, you may,” I whispered and he tugged it until my bare, big breasts spilled out. He scooped them into his bigger hands and covered them in kisses, his lips suckling my nipple before he moved on to the other one. I struggled not to moan again as I was acutely aware that we were not alone in my penthouse like I always fantasized…but my heavy breaths threatened to dip into groans as Daniel kissed his way down my stomach. 

And he kept going, scooting back on the couch to fit his head between my thighs that he kissed as he held them to his lips. He gazed up at me with that impish glint filling his eyes before his lips planted a kiss on my pussy behind my shorts. He felt me shiver again as he rubbed his cheek on my thigh. “Can I ask another question?” he asked.

“What's that?” I asked back, already willing to say yes...

“May I…get a taste?”

I nodded almost immediately and he moved just as quickly to pull my shorts to the side with his thumb. Feeling the cool air of my living room caress my humid heat compelled a desperate sigh from me…but that sigh rolled into a hushed moan when Daniel’s warm tongue gently caressed my soft pussy lips as he made them blossom like petals of a flower into his mouth. I slapped a hand over my mouth as I watched him cover me with long, slow flicks up to my clit and down to my little hole. Over...and over...and over. I already felt my body giving into hot tingles of pleasure as a long, raspy moan spilled out of me that was too much for my palm to catch, and I prayed Chris didn’t hear it.

“Oh, shit...that sounded sexy,” Daniel pulled back to tell me. “I need these off you so I can hear you moan like that again.”

He went to roll down my shorts and I nodded helplessly, craving more of his mouth. Once they landed on the floor, his mouth landed back on my pussy, lapping between my wet folds like he wanted them wetter. I couldn’t stop my fingers from wriggling into his hair to hold him right where I needed him: his warm, wet tongue dragging along my clit in sweet circles. I could feel my wetness starting to drip down my cheeks and onto the cushion, but I didn’t care…I was more concerned with that tingling, hot pressure building below his tongue on my clit that had me ready to scream.

“Unnhhh, I'm close…” I softly cried before I clapped one of my hands back to my mouth.

“Yeah? I wanna hear how you moan when you cum...” Daniel mumbled to my pussy as his eyes met mine. “Unh unh, now. Take your hand off your mouth. Lemme hear them sexy sounds you make.”

“But Chris might hear,” I complained.

“Fuck him,” he grumbled, and then I giggled.

“But he's trying to sle—”

Daniel shut me up by dropping his head back down and tracing my clit with those luscious circles until I moaned for him again. I felt his lips curl into a smile before they wrapped around my clit. “Whatchu was sayin’?” he asked and I couldn’t help but grin as I bit my lip. 

“Nothing…” I gave in and let him lick more of those circles around my clit until my chest heaved up and down, that searing hot pressure swelling inside me as he devoured me. And when he worked his thick, middle fingers into me, pushing them up on my g-spot that needed that stroke, my thighs trembled around his head as I moaned, “Mmmunhh, right there…I'm cumming.”

Daniel didn’t let up until my heated orgasm finished seizing my body which convulsed on the couch and in his grasp. Damn, I hadn't cum that hard awhile...

...And he was prolonging my pleasure as he didn’t seem to be in a rush to remove his fingers, instead studying me as his pretty eyes caught mine. I was embarrassed by how my attempt to stifle my moans turned them into squeaks and squeals, but he just smiled that impish smile at me when he felt my pussy throb in his hand as he gingerly rubbed his thumb on my tender clit. 

“Fuuuck,” I whined with another ripple of my afterglow that wouldn’t settle with his fingers still nudged up on my tender g-spot.

“I would pull out but your pussy is still grippin’ on my fingers...that nut was powerful, huh? Damn, I'm good,” Daniel goaded me as he licked me off his pink lips. He left teasing kisses on my thighs that felt as sensitive as my pussy and it tickled, making me giggle and moan at the same time.

“It was aight,” I teased him back and his cute face scrunched up as he feigned being hurt.

“Let me try again then…” 

He took his time sliding his fingers out that he then slid into his mouth to clean them of my sticky nectar. The sight made me want to moan again but I held it together…but then he sat up on his knees again to reveal his bulge that was hard and long as it twitched behind his sweats. It made my pussy twitch just looking at it as he laced his fingers around it to squeeze it and show off how thick it was in his right hand.

“Can I try with this?” Daniel asked quietly and I nodded, anxious to see it in the flesh. It flopped out over the hem of his boxers and sweats when he slowly pulled them down to show me. Thick, heavy, and chocolate-brown…I wanted to taste it.

“Yes…” I replied just as quietly before I leaned up to skim my fingertips along it, lifting it to my lips. He let out a sexy, breathy grunt when I let my tongue sweep across his tip, back and forth, keeping my rhythm along his shaft as I sucked him into my mouth. I got an inch beyond halfway before I realized I wasn’t going to be able to fit anymore without gagging. I thought about pushing myself to swallow him, especially when I could taste that he was close as his flesh grew saltier with his precum flowing onto my tongue. I wanted him to finish down my throat...but when I looked up at him he was looking down at me with lust for something else swirling in his eyes…

“You don’t wanna cum in my mouth?” I held his dick in my hand to ask but I licked along his length as I waited for his answer, making him moan to me.

“While you grind on me...”

“Oh okay...then hold on a sec,” I said with my coy yet impish smile and Daniel shot me a smirk before I shot off the couch and to my bedroom to look for the box of condoms I stashed in my closet. When I came back to the living room, he was sitting on the couch with his legs spread wide, his sweatpants on the carpet next to my shorts. The sight of him half-naked with his hard dick in his hand as he slowly stroked it made heat shoot through my body…

I fell to my knees and rolled the condom on him as he held himself still for me. He looked into my eyes as I stood up again and he asked softly, “You ready to sit on this dick?"

Another heatwave trickled through my body as I nodded, biting my lip as I climbed onto his lap to straddle his waist. It had only been a few months since my last hookup, but this felt like my first time as my heart thudded again to feel his lips on mine…and his blunt tip as it pushed inside me as I sat down on him slowly.

“Mmmm, shit,” I mumbled into our kiss. Daniel felt big and even with his hands on my waist to help me ease him inside, I was getting woozy from how drunk and full he had me already. His dick nudged on my every sweet spot as he took his time nestling himself inside of me. I hid my face in the crook of his neck and shoulder to hopefully hide my moans as he started to grind into me, slow swivels that made me grab at his tank top with both hands and nip at his neck with my teeth as fuck, that felt good…

“This must be your spot…right here…isn’t it?” Daniel whispered to me as he buried himself in me, grinding his dick on my g-spot. He was right as my body was heating up like I was catching fire, my pussy feeling warm and vulnerable to his every thrust. I couldn’t respond with words as I merely let out a soft moan in his ear, trembling against him. “Yeah, I can feel it…look how I got you shakin’ on me. I'm too good,” he answered for me and made me grin.

“Shut…up,” I managed to whine but it was quickly cut off by another moan as he held himself on my sweet spot.

“Nah, I like talkin’ while I'm in it and I think you do, too. Listen to how you moan for me…” Daniel said softly as he gripped my ass in his hands now, kissing my neck as I kissed his while he broke me down into another whimpering, panting orgasm. “Music to my ears…fuck, mmmn. I feel you grippin’ me again...go ahead and nut on this dick...”

I was at a loss for words again as I felt my body leave my control with those succulent heatwaves that matched the rhythm of my pussy spasming around his dick. I adored the breathy sounds that Daniel made as he moaned with me, squeezing me in his hands. I didn’t know when I came to and regained control of the pace, but somewhere within seeking every last drop of the intense pleasure he made drip from me, I wound up holding onto his shoulders and bouncing on him until our hips were slick and squelching with my juices and our sweat. I knew the sounds of our sloppy sex probably echoed throughout the silent loft at this point, but I couldn't...stop...

Not when pouncing on his big dick like this made him hit deeper, made it hurt so good. I was determined to take all of him—even as it made me feel damn near lightheaded. 

And not when the sultry look that seized his handsome face, his lips pouty and eyes squinted as he watched me fuck him, made me want to feel him cum…

“Goddamn…ride this dick. Mmmn, no pares...móntame. Just like that,” Daniel grunted with that sexy, breathy moan of his before he bit his lip. My pussy clenched around him to briefly hear his native tongue in my ear, making him moan and slap a hand to my ass before he grabbed at it again. That was loud yet the slight sting and the way he bottomed me out with each thrust made me nearly yelp louder. He covered my mouth with his as he grasped me in his big hands before he quietly gasped, “You're gonna make me cum…unnhh, shit.”

I couldn't help but sob and gasp, too, feeling him hold me still as he wedged himself into my stomach and came hard. It felt like my head was spinning to witness and feel something so beautiful from a man I never thought I’d meet, let alone have inside as his dick throbbed for me. It felt surreal but his hands, his mouth, and his body on mine felt so warm, so soft, and so hard at the same time as his muscles tensed while he crushed me in his arms, his lips crushed to mine.

I didn’t want it to end, but when I finally crawled off his lap and rolled the filled condom off of him, I could tell from his cute, droopy eyes he was satisfied and spent. A yawn flew out of me at the same time because so was I, but I didn’t want to go back to my room alone…

“Guess you're goin’ to bed now?” Daniel asked as he observed me as I went to throw the condom into the kitchen waste bin. I noticed the time on my microwave read 2:32 am. I came back with a couple of hand towels to clean up myself and handed one to him as he slowly stood to do the same.

“I think so...it's late and I am pretty sleepy now,” I replied with another yawn, covering my mouth and watching him wipe my juices from his groin as his face broke into a naughty grin. "What?" I asked as we pulled back on our pants.

“I wore that ass out, huh?” he said haughtily and I went to mock-punch him in the arm, but he snatched my fist into his and kissed my knuckles. “Come cuddle with me,” he added in a whisper and I felt myself shiver with a blush.

“That’s all we’re doing, right? Because I see how you like to 'cuddle' and I’m ready for bed,” I whispered back as he kissed my wrist and then my arm before he pulled me into his arms altogether. I blushed harder to feel his body surround me as I rested my head on his chest, feeling the soft pattering of his heartbeat on my cheek.

“Me, too. It’ll be innocent, promise,” Daniel assured me. And when we tiptoed to his room near Chris’s and fell into his bed, he made good on his promise. He snuggled up behind me as the big spoon, securing me to his broad chest again, our bodies so close, warm, and cozy under his comforter that I fell asleep before he could finish telling me good night.

He was a heavy sleeper as the next day I woke up before him and pried myself from beneath his hefty arm to sneak back into my bedroom across the loft. I would have loved to cuddle with him all morning, but I didn’t want Chris to realize I’d spent the night in Daniel’s room. I was a grown-ass woman but I rather he minded his business.

Yet as the three of us stood in the kitchen a couple of hours later, the men sipping on coffee I just brewed and munching on blueberry muffins from the glass cake stand on my island counter, Chris glared at Daniel from behind his steaming, beige mug. 

“Were you watching fucking porn late last night in the living room?” he asked him and my eyes widened. Thankfully Chris’s eyes were steadfast with disgust on his travel partner. “I was too exhausted to get up and tell you to turn that shit off, but I was like, ‘What the fuck is going on?’"

Daniel shot me a smoldering look of his own that made me tremble in my black, silk robe, a hint of a smirk on his lips, but the entire thing was so fast Chris didn’t seem to notice. But then he looked my way for validation about Daniel and I struggled not to choke on my bite of muffin in my mouth.

“Uh, yeah. I, um, heard it, too, and it woke me up. Very rude," I murmured after I swallowed, playing along and glaring at Daniel, too. I could tell he had to stifle his laugh when his lips quivered and he took another sip of coffee.

“My bad. I guess I shoulda worn headphones, but I didn’t think this place had crazy reverb like that…” he apologized, throwing me a phony, dejected pout with sad puppy eyes that made me bite my lip to keep from giggling.

“Jesus, I can't take this guy anywhere. Sorry about that," Chris then apologized and I nodded devoutly. Neither Daniel nor I could make eye contact after that unless we wanted to burst out laughing.

It wasn’t until they were packed up and headed out shortly afterward that we finally caught each other’s gaze. We stood in the lobby together as he let his smoldering eyes bore into mine, making that familiar warmth hug me all over before he dared to take a step closer to me and put his arms around me.

“You better hope Chris takes a while in the bathroom,” I warned as he leaned down to plant a kiss on my lips. Yet the way his mouth moved on mine as he tasted my tongue and held me close had me suddenly not giving a damn if he did catch us…

“What's he gonna do? Stop me from comin’ to see you? He ain’t my dad.” Daniel sucked his teeth and I giggled.

“When are you comin' to see me?!” I asked in an incredulous breath, my hands on his chest. I was fully prepared to savor the experience for what it was since what we did last night still felt wild, like once-in-a-lifetime wild…

“Next time I’m home in Buffalo…if that’s cool with you,” he replied and gave me another quick kiss that made my heart pound between my legs before we heard footsteps coming up the hallway. 

“It’s cool,” I purred, my eyelids a little low from his dreamy kiss and his strong hands slipping from around my waist. 

We were still standing awkwardly close when Chris appeared, yet he swiped up his duffel bags from the wooden floor and thanked me for a lovely stay. I had to convince myself that it wasn’t all a dream as they piled into my elevator with their luggage and waved goodbye.

Yet as Daniel locked those devilish, deep brown eyes on me and mouthed, “I’ll call you,” as the double doors closed, I knew he was going to bring my delicious fantasies to life again. I couldn’t wait for another taste.

.

.

.

Thanks for reading! 💜

Hey, my first AEW fanfiction! And it had to be Daniel because that's my baby boy and I miss him on my screen. 🥹

Hope you enjoyed! 😈

Tag squad 🫶🏾

@harlem11680 @mzv11 @visionarymode @miyuhpapayuh @cyberdejos2 @thesamoanqueen @angelreigns444 @vebner37 @flawlessvictory2020 @dreamsinfocus @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @jeyusos-girl @nayys-world @msbigredmachine @purplehairgawdess @dayjlovesromance @mohawkmama @smuts-whore @po3ticb3auty @alyyaanna @murrylove @papireigns-05 @thewarlordsworld @vintage-pvssy @christinabae @itsautomaticfaegirl @bebesobrielo @urasunflower @iguessilikewrestlingnow @seeingstarks @555sage @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @theninthwonder @tabletheofhead @weirdosandhopelessromantics @venusesworld @ariieeesworld @sassginaswanmills @twocentuar

#daniel garcia #daniel garcia aew #daniel garcia fanfiction #daniel garcia imagine #daniel garcia smut #daniel garcia x reader #aew fanfiction #aew fic #aew smut #all elite wrestling #spilled ink #aew

[shiorimakibawrites]

Image Credits: kissthemgoodbye.net / Greta Punch (Unsplash) / Stephanie Harvey (Unsplash)

A Tale of Two Men (Part 1 of Cozy Corners)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem! Reader Word Count: 6,595 Summary: One week after you open your cafe, you meet two handsome men - defense attorney Matt Murdock and the vigilante Daredevil. Warning(s): Canon-typical violence, description of anxiety and panic attacks, referenced oral sex (f receiving), referenced p in v sex, referenced masturbation, dirty thoughts, female gaze Cozy Corners Masterlist Shiori's Masterlist A03 link Tag List: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer , @danzer8705 Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.

A Tale of Two Men

You couldn’t stop smiling. Owning your own cafe had been the dream of you and your best friend Dora Morales since high school. And now, after years of hard work, it had finally happened. One week ago, you had opened your doors for the first time. You looked around. You and Dora had done everything you could, within the limitations of your lease and budget, to make Cozy Corners to live up to its name. Warm, comfortable, and inviting.

You were especially pleased with the little nook, tucked away from the main bustle of the cafe where people could read and study in relative quiet. You had found some nice chairs in a secondhand store, their brown leather the color of chocolate and butter soft. The little library of reference books and fiction was small but you hoped that over time it would grow. Yes, people were more likely to use the internet to look things up these days but you liked having analog back-ups. Just in case something got broken. Or the city was invaded by aliens. Again.

You found having back-up plans helped calm your nerves, made the anxiety gremlin in your head less loud. You were a big fan of keeping that gremlin quiet. You didn’t like it when the gremlin got loud. It was mean.

Hearing the bell on the front door chime, you looked up to greet your new customer. And immediately felt your stomach fill with butterflies. Because one of the most beautiful men you had ever laid eyes on had just walked into your cafe. Dark brown – no, dark auburn, you could see the glint of red in the sunlight – hair that looked like it would be very enjoyable to run your fingers through, excellent bone structure, and a mouth practically begging to be kissed. Round sunglasses with dark red lenses hide his eyes from view. Which was unfortunate. Especially if they were just as pretty as the rest of him.

The brown suit he worn, by contrast, did very little to disguise how well-built he was. Which was very, if the strain on buttons of his dress shirt was any indication. He moved an enviable grace as he walked toward the counter, his long white cane sweeping in front of him.

“Good morning, sir,” you said. “What can I do for you?”

“Good morning,” he replied. His voice was pretty too, nice and deep. The kind you could easily imagine whispering everything from sweet nothings to dirty promises in your ear. The thought made your cheeks warm and your heart beat at little faster.

His lips twitched into something like a smirk before he asked, “Do you have a menu in braille?”

You sighed, then said, “Sort of.”

“Sort of?” he repeated, tilting his head to one side.

“I have something in braille. The printing service claims that it’s my menu.”

“I take it that you disagree?”

“I don’t sell a cinematic rainbow muffler.”

“What?”

The sheer disbelief and confusion put into that single ‘what’ had you biting your lip to not laugh. You didn’t want him to think you were joking or making fun of him.

“Cinematic rainbow muffler,” you repeated. “Not something we sell here at Cozy Corners.”

His lips twitched. “I don’t think anyone does. What was it supposed to be?”

“Cinnamon raisin muffin.”

His brow furrowed. “That . . . doesn’t even have the same amount of letters. How did they manage get that?”

“I have absolutely no idea,” you said, shaking your head. “The whole thing is like that.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” you said, pulling out the copy you had left under the counter in case you needed a laugh. Which was about the only thing it was good for. You sat it down in front of him. “It’s at your twelve o’clock if you want to see for yourself.”

Mr. Handsome took you up on that offer. While he read – or rather attempted to read since you knew sections were completely unintelligible – you idly wondered if the dark facial hair dusting his face was the start of a beard or if he just didn’t feel like shaving this morning . . . you had the feeling he would look good either way . . .

Case in point, all that look of utter befuddlement like he didn’t whether to laugh or to be irritated by what he was reading did was make him look adorable. You needed to be careful. This guy was dangerously pretty.

“What is 78554.051?” He asked, looking like he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“What?”

“It’s listed as one of the drinks. I think. I assume you don’t serve dribbles.”

“No, sir,” you said, thinking. “My best guess is that someone put the number sign where it didn’t belong.”

Mr. Handsome hummed thoughtfully, re-running his fingers over one section of the menu of nonsense. “Green tea.”

“Now that I do have,” you said. “Speaking of which, would you like to order a drink?”

“I don’t know . . . ,” he said with a teasing grin. “Drinking a coffin sounds dangerous.”

“It does,” you agreed, ignoring the continued presence of the butterflies to go along with the banter. “Does coffee sound better?”

“Infinitely.”

You gave him a quick rundown of the coffee options. He ordered a red eye for himself, which always sounded like a lot of caffeine to you but you didn’t know this man’s life. While he didn’t look tired, maybe he had been working a lot of hours lately and needed the extra oomph. Apparently he didn’t think his coworkers needed extra caffeine as they got a cappuccino and a dirty chai.

“What’s the name?” you asked. Mr. Handsome might be the only customer right now but that could change any minute. It was only a little after nine. Plenty of people might still be heading toward school or work, people who might decide to grab a coffee (and maybe some food) on their way.

“Matt.”

“Matt,” you repeated, both to make sure that you had heard him correctly and because you wanted to say it. If for no other reason so you wouldn’t accidentally call him Mr. Handsome outloud. He nodded in confirmation. “Just coffee this morning?”

He made another thoughtful hum. “I probably shouldn’t have just coffee for breakfast. What’s on offer?”

“We have bagels, muffins, croissants, turnovers, doughnuts, frittatas, and breakfast sandwiches.”

“Hmmm, those all sound great,” he said.

“Take your time,” you said, “Think about it while I make your drinks?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

You turned to start making the coffee. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him flinch a little when the machine started grinding the beans. Which you couldn’t really blame him for. It wasn’t a nice sound. Easily one of your least favorite. But Dora, who was a coffee aficionado, might actually kill you if you even thought about using anything other than freshly ground coffee for espresso.

She had explained why it mattered. And demonstrated how changing how fine the grind was effected the drink. But that didn’t make the noise any less unpleasant. Which was probably why she hadn’t been able to talk you into freshly grinding your coffee at home. Not yet anyway. You were getting worn down on the issue. Agreeing would at least mean she would stop giving you that look of actual pain everytime she saw your can of already-ground coffee.

Pulling the shot part of the espresso was a lot more pleasant on the ears. With the added bonus of putting out that nice fresh coffee smell. You poured the shot into the waiting to-go cup of the house brew. You knew some places poured the hot coffee into the espresso but Dora thought that method disturbed the crèma too much.

You were pouring in the frothed milk with the chai concentrate into the double-shot of espresso for his coworkers’ dirty chai when Matt spoke again.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“You just did but you can ask another one,” you said, feeling a little bold from his earlier friendliness, as you put the finished drink into the carrier alongside it’s companions.

He chuckled. “Left myself wide open for that one . . . Are you the owner?”

“Co-owner with my best friend, Dora,” you answered, tapping the used grounds into the knock box.

“Dora and who?” Matt asked with a charming smile. You felt your heart sped up. Something about smiling transformed his already handsome face into something breathtakingly beautiful. You had no resistant to something like that. You told him your name.

“That’s a pretty name.”

“And that was a line,” you said. One that you had heard numerous times. Through never from someone this good looking.

“It can be,” he acknowledged before subtly shifting his posture. He hadn’t been slouching before but there had been a relaxed air to the way he carried himself. Now he was standing there, straight-backed and shoulders square, his hands resting on the white cane held upright between his feet like it was some medieval courtiers’ staff of office. He had a presence. One that you suddenly realized had been there all along. It was just front and center now.

When he spoke again, there had also been a subtle shift to his voice. Easy self-assurance had been replaced with rock-solid confidence and conviction. Not thundering like an angry priest, just the calm, even voice of someone who knows they are correct, that the facts were on their side.

“Does that phrase being used as a pick-up line mean that a name cannot be pretty?”

“No,” you said. “A name can still be pretty.”

“Generally speaking, is your name one of the pretty ones?”

“Yes?” you said slowly. Why did you feel like you had just walked into a trap? Maybe it was that little edge of sharpness to his smile? . . . .

“Well, if names can be pretty and your name is one of those pretty names, then you have a pretty name.”

“I suppose,” you conceded. It was hard to argue with that logic. Especially when you didn’t actually want to argue that your name was ugly. You liked your name. And it was nice to hear something about you called pretty. Even if it was just your name.

“A pretty name for a beautiful girl.”

Warmth spread across your cheeks. That smile should be illegal. As for the words . . . he probably didn’t mean them. He was obviously something of a flirt. Regardless . . . it was still nice to hear. Still made your heart flutter.

“And that was absolutely a line,” you said, fidgeting with the ties on your apron. “Flattery is not going get you a free muffin.”

“It’s not flattery if it is true,” he said. Which did nothing to lessen the warmth in your face. “And since muffins are off the table, what about the doughnuts? Or the turnovers?”

You laughed. “Sorry. As much as I would like to give out free coffee and food, unfortunately there are all these places that expect me to pay them with money.”

“Instead of an excellent pie, like a sensible person?”

“Exactly,” you said, once again finding yourself drawn into the banter in spite of your nerves. You knew one thing for certain about Matt – he was definitely charming.

He nodded solemnly, like this was a serious conversation. “I’ve encountered the same problem with my small business.”

“You did?” you said. Then, feeling genuinely curious, you asked him, “What do you do?”

“I’m a lawyer.”

“A lawyer who wants to get paid in pie?” you said, feeling a little skeptical. Didn’t lawyers usually work in big offices that paid them big money? Granted your experience with lawyers was largely limited to baby-faced ones who were grabbing coffee for the office or law students who looked like they had forgotten what sleep was . . .

“I like pie,” he said mildly. “But, as you said, since so many people want money instead of pie, my partner insists that’s what we charge for our services.”

“That’s a shame,” you said.

“It is,” Matt agreed solemnly. He leaned forward and lowered his voice, “What to know a secret? If you ever need to bribe Foggy, try bagels. He can resist pie but never a good bagel.”

“Duly noted,” you said. “I assume Foggy is your partner?”

“Yep,” he said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. “Nelson & Murdock, Attorneys at Law.”

“Nelson?” you repeated. “Any relation to Nelson’s Meats?”

You expected the answer to be no. This was New York City, after all, not a small town. But, to your surprise, Matt nodded and said, “Yes, it’s his family’s butcher shop. How do you know Nelson’s?”

“We buy the meat for the cafe from them,” you explained as you placed the to-go carrier by the cash register. “Did you ever reach a verdict on breakfast?”

He chuckled. “Jury is still out, I’m afraid. It all smells so good. Can you give me a recommendation?”

Your heart gave another excited flutter at the compliment as you thought about it. Then, with a little hesitation, said, “Maybe bagels? That way, if I need to bribe your partner, he knows what he’s getting out of the deal?”

“Good idea,” Matt said with a smile. “What favors do you have?”

After being given his options, he opted for a plain for himself and an everything for Foggy. After some further consideration an apple turnover for Karen, the third person at his office. He thought the sweetness of the turnover would compliment the spices of her dirty chai better than a bagel.

Soon the rest of his order was bagged up and paid for. Before he left, he tapped the menu of nonsense with his finger. “Can I have a copy of this? Otherwise I’m pretty sure Foggy will think I’m making it up.”

“Go ahead,” you said. “I’ve got other copies.”

He smiled, then tucked the menu into the bag with the food. He feed his arm through the handles of the bag, then picked up the drinks carrier. Considering his left hand was occupied with his cane . . .

“Would you like me to open the door for you?”

“Please.”

On the downside, Cozy Corners wasn’t very big so that particular journey didn’t take very long. But on the upside, you got to watch him walk down the street, discovering that he had a perfect ass. Because of course he did. You sighed. Why was everything about this man so attractive . . .

“I saw that.”

You jumped with a small shriek and whirled around. Standing in the doorway to the kitchen was Dora. How long had she been standing there?

“Saw what?” you demanded, walking back over to the counter.

“So many things,” she said with a knowing grin. “You flirting with Mr. Matthew Murdock, Esquire? Undressing him with your eyes? Checking out his ass? I saw it all.”

Warmth flooded your face. “I wasn’t undressing him with my eyes!”

“Yes, you were,” Dora said with the utter confidence of someone who had known you since you were ten and therefore knew all of your tells.

“Maybe I was,” you muttered as you tidied up the work station. It needed to be done but also gave you an excuse not to see that knowing grin. Which you knew, without even looking, had just gotten bigger.

“And now you are thinking about how loudly he could make you scream.”

“Dora!” You exclaimed, your head whipping around to make sure the cafe was still as empty as it was the last time you looked. It was. “Is this really the time for that? We’re at work!”

“That wasn’t a denial,” she pointed out in a sing-song voice. “I’m betting on very loud.”

“What makes you say that?” you asked, suspicion in your voice. “Did you sleep with him?”

The very thought sparked a little flame of jealousy inside you. Which you hated. You didn’t want feel jealous of your best friend . . .

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “But I know someone who did. She said Murdock loves eating pussy. That he fucked her better with his tongue than any man ever had with their dick.”

“Dora!” You whined. Because now you were thinking about it. Now you were trying to imagine that handsome face buried between your thighs. It was an appealing image. Very appealing. But one you would rather not have when you could do nothing to quench the heat growing between your legs. “Why are you telling me this?!”

“You’ve been under way too much stress lately. Orgasms are wonderful stress relief.”

“Matt Murdock isn’t a requirement for me to have an orgasm,” you said mulishly. You had hands. And a vibrator. Both had served you well in that department. Often better than men had.

“Perhaps not,” she said, nodding in acknowledgment before flashing you a wicked smile. “But that’s who you are going to imagine fucking you senseless while you flick the bean, isn’t it?”

You were spared from having to answer that question by the arrival of new customers.

&&&

You managed to avoid any further conversation about Matt Murdock and what he could do with his tongue. Or other body parts. You put that down to two things. First, there had been a steady stream of customers to keep you both busy. Most had been simply curious about the new business in the neighborhood or tourists needing a quick break. The latter made you a little nostalgic, remembering your first days in the city and how overwhelmed you had felt. But some of the customers were repeats from earlier visits. Something that you hoped would continue.

Second, while you were still working on hiring, you did have some staff. Staff that had come in around lunch time and were there until final clean-up. It was one thing for Dora to speak so frankly about your sex life (or the lack thereof) when it was just the two of you but in front of others? Others who were your employees? Who likely would be very uncomfortable with that conversation? That was an entirely different kettle of fish. Not one that Dora or you had any desire to partake in.

By the time you were locking up the cafe and setting the alarm, Dora had seemingly forgotten all about Matt Murdock and how you had – allegedly – been undressing him with your eyes. It might only be temporary reprieve. Assuming he didn’t hate the coffee and food, Matt would be back. Despite the certainty of teasing from your best friend, you hoped that he came back.

Not because you thought had any chance with him. You weren’t delusional. Men that good-looking didn’t go for people like you . . . but if he was a regular, you could at least look at him. You’d get to talk to him. Though seeing him with girlfriends was going to suck . . .

“Are you sure that you don’t want me and Steve to walk you home?” Dora asked, looking worried.

“Yes,” you said, looking over at your best friend and her steady boyfriend. He had come to pick her up as usual. “I’m in the opposite direction of you guys.”

“I don’t mind,” Steve said. You knew that he didn’t. He made similar offers since he and Dora had started dating. And never complained or acted annoyed when you accepted the offer. But your apartment was much closer to Cozy Corners than their place, which weren’t even in the Kitchen. The only time you had accepted the offer since the cafe opened was the day before and only because you were dropping off the deposit at the bank. Then, carrying your opening week’s worth of cash, you felt like you had needed some extra security. Steve was a very sweet guy but he was also a tall man with large muscles. Not exactly the easy target that most criminals are looking for.

“I’ll be fine,” you said. “It’s not that late and my place isn’t far.”

“Okay,” Dora said. “If you are sure?”

“I am.”

Mollified by your conviction, Steve and Dora left. You watched them go around the corner before heading off yourself. You walked swiftly. Because rain had been predicted tonight and it was starting to get chilly at night. It wasn’t quite cold yet but brisk enough that you needed a jacket and didn’t fancy getting soaked. You couldn’t afford to get sick right now. Your business was too new . . . and Lady Who Sneezes A Lot wasn’t exactly the second impression you wanted to give Matt.

You might have very few hopes of attracting his interest but that didn’t mean you wanted to completely tank what little chance you had . . . You shook your head. You needed to stop the daydreaming. This wasn’t the time for it. Daredevil was back from wherever he had disappeared to but the vigilante only made things safer, not safe . . .

There was no warning. You were walking, almost home. Then you were grabbed from behind. You screamed as you were dragged toward the gap between two buildings. You dropped the sack holding your dinner and tried to struggle, to resist, but your attacker was too strong for you. You were pulled into the shadows and slammed into the side of a building. It knocked the wind of you.

Heart pounding, you desperately tried to suck in air. To get your breath back. You needed to scream again. Scream in the Kitchen and the Devil came. That was the story. That was the hope. But was one scream enough? You didn’t know. So you had to scream. Scream and pray all those stories were true . . .

You started to scream . . . then agony exploded on the left side of your face, transforming that scream into a cry of pain. Everything from your cheek down to your jaw immediately began to throb. It hurt. Worse than the time your sister Alex had accidentally given you a black eye with a softball. The bruising grip on your shoulder that kept you pinned against the wall barely even registered.

“Shut your fucking mouth,” the man ordered in a low hiss. “Make another sound and I’ll slit your throat.”

Tears were blurring your vision but you could see the knife he was brandishing. It wasn’t a small pocket knife. It was a chef’s knife. Like the one you had at home and at the cafe. And it was stained with something. You bit down hard on your bottom lip to stop a terrified whimper. It was too dark for you to tell with what but you feared that it was blood.

Apparently satisfied that you were too frightened to be anything but compliant, the man released your shoulder.

“Purse,” the man demanded. “Watch. Jewelry.”

Trembling, you removed your crossbody bag and held it out. It was taken and slung onto his shoulder. You ignore the watch directive since you weren’t wearing one. It was when you tried to remove your jewelry that things went wrong. The only piece of jewelry that you were wearing, a necklace, had a very delicate chain with a tiny clasp. Your hands were shaking too much for you to get a good grip on the lobster clasp, let alone open it and slip out the ring. The chain wasn’t big enough to pull the whole necklace over your head. Every time, the clasp slipped out of your fingers, your panic grew. Which only made the trembling worse.

It didn’t take long for the mugger to lose patience. His hand darted out and grabbed the necklace. He yanked hard, snapping the chain. More tears filled your eyes. It was bad enough that he was stealing your favorite necklace. Did he have to break it too? Then, to your horror, he raised the knife. You screamed, instinctively throwing up your arms to try to protect yourself. Your eyes squeezed shut, bracing yourself for the pain that you knew was coming.

Except it never came.

What came was a growl, low and furious. It was accompanied by the sound of something flying through the air. You heard a pained yelp and something metal clattering to the ground. You cautiously opened your eyes just in time to see someone put himself between you and the mugger.

Someone dressed entirely in black, save for the thick white ropes tied around his forearms and hands. Someone wearing a mask. Daredevil, you realized with a dizzying sense of relief. It might not be the more distinctive red outfit and its horned helmet but you were sure it was him . . . the stories were true. Scream in Hell’s Kitchen and the Devil will come to save you.

“You made a big mistake,” Daredevil snarled at the mugger, each word dripping with fury and utter contempt. “By not fleeing when you had the chance.”

Then he threw himself at the man.

Your legs turned to liquid. You fell back against the wall and slide down. You didn’t care the street was getting your pants dirty. You had to sit. While your legs were uninterested in supporting your weight, you could pull them up and wrap your arms around them. So you did. It was almost like a hug and you could use one right now.

You couldn’t stop shaking. The sound of breaking bones, meaty thwacks, and a man’s screams were oddly distant. Like you were listening to something through a well instead something happening just a few feet away. Scent, however, was viscerally and intensely present. Acrid car exhaust, rotting garbage, coopery blood, sweet peaches, and sour sweat filled your nose. You gagged, then tried to breathe through your mouth to lessen the nauseating combination. But you couldn’t get your throat to work . . . you couldn’t get enough air . . . your vision darkened . . . . you couldn’t breathe . . .

You weren’t sure which penetrated past the panic first – the hands massaging your shoulders or the deep voice speaking. But once it did, you were suddenly aware of both. You almost couldn’t believe your own eyes and ears. Was the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen really kneeling in front of your huddled body? Were those gloved hands gently gripped your shoulders, really the same ones that had just literally beaten a man bloody?

“You’re safe, it’s okay . . .”

The soft, quiet voice was completely at odds with his grim reputation. It also sounded a little familiar but you were too exhausted to try remembering where you had heard it. It had been a long day and panic attacks always took a lot out of you.

You weren’t so tired that you missed that the Devil was a good-looking man. And not just in the face. Those grainy surveillance photos in the newspaper hadn’t conveyed just how tight his clothing was. Which was very tight. His shirt, for example, was practically painted on. You could see his muscles. His many, many muscles. He had clearly hit the muscle store during a clearance sale . . .

The thought made you giggle. It sounded more like a wheeze and more than a little hysterical but still a giggle. But you needed a laugh. You were alive. You had been sure that you were about to die. That you were going to be stabbed to death in a robbery gone bad . . . you started to tremble again, feeling a chill that had nothing to do with the weather . . . you could have died . . . your bottom lip quivered . . .

Hands squeezed your shoulders, “Hey, hey, look at me.”

That didn’t sound too hard. Only half of his face was visible but what you could see was mighty fine.

A deep chuckle. “Thanks for the compliment.”

‘Note to self – abject terror followed by panic attack completely dissolves your brain-to-mouth filter. Shut up before you ask if it is actually possible to bounce a quarter off of his abs.’

Another deep chuckle alerted you that you might have also said that outloud. A theory confirmed by his statement, “I’ve never tried. Can you do something for me?”

Warmth filled your cheeks as you nodded. He smiled at you. It was a nice smile. “Follow my lead? Deep breathe in . . .”

You mimicked the inhale, the short hold, then slow release out.

“Good! Now again . . .”

It seemed like forever but eventually you felt calm. Or at least not like you were about to have another panic attack. That was good. Panicking was exhausting. Daredevil seemed to agree with your self-assessment as he had stopped instructing you to take deep breathes. After one more reassuring squeeze, his hands slid off of your shoulders. He sat back on his heels.

“Feeling better now?” he asked, his voice returning to what you assumed was his Daredevil speaking voice – low, deep, with a growling rasp. It was possible he sounded like this all the time. It wasn’t like you had ever meet him outside the mask. Well, as far you knew. You supposed that you could have but how would you know . . .

“Yes,” you said, when you remembered that you had been asked a question. “I’m fine.”

It wasn’t a lie. Not from a certain point of view. You were feeling better now that you were no longer teetering on the edge of a second panic attack in a short space of time. You knew this calm, almost numb, feeling was fragile. It would shatter instantly if pressed too hard. But that was the best you could hope for right now. Feeling any better than this would require things that weren’t here – like your most comfortable clothes and your pets – along with time.

Daredevil frowned, tilting his head slightly to one side. It was hard to interpret the expression on his face since you couldn’t see most of it. But it seemed like he was staring at you (through how he saw anything through that mask was a mystery) as if you were a puzzle he was trying to figure out. Or maybe he was simply skeptical. That was possible. You had seen how you looked after panic attacks. In his shoes, you wouldn’t believe you about being fine either.

“I’m as fine as I’m going to get tonight,” you amended.

That answer, at least, was deemed plausible to him. He nodded, then pulled something about the little pouch attached to his belt. A cellphone. Who was he calling? Since you had no energy for guessing games, you simply asked.

“The police,” he said.

Well that was your cue to get out of here. You couldn’t think of something you would rather deal with less right now. Your usual post-panic attack headache was already growing – no need to kick it into migraine territory with sirens and flashing lights. You shifted onto your knees so you could get to your feet.

“What are you doing?” Daredevil asked.

“Going home.”

“Home? Shouldn’t you be going to the hospital?”

Amazing, he had found something worse than the police. “No.”

“No?”

“No,” you said. “I don’t wanna.”

His lips twitched. “You don’t wanna?”

“What are you, a parrot?” you demanded, feeling your temper flare. If you had been less tired or not in pain, that question would have playful. But you were tired and hurting so that question was grouchy. So was the rest of your statement. “Yes, I don’t wanna. No, I don’t care that is whinny. I’ve had a shitty night! I’ll whine if I want to!”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, spitfire. No hospital.”

As the anger drained, you felt a swell of guilt for yelling at him after he just saved your life. This was why you did your best to avoid people when your social batteries were running too low to manage basic human interaction. It seemed like you always ended up biting someone’s head off for no good reason.

“I’m sorry,” you said, shifting back onto your bottom. You closed your eyes and pressed your forehead against your knees. You didn’t care that your pants were dirty. You needed to hide. “I didn’t mean to yell. I’m just too tired to be peopling right now.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I understand.”

You cracked up an eye and turned your face to peer at him with that one eye. Again, it was almost impossible to get a read on his expression but he didn’t seem bothered. And vigilante like him probably did know a thing or too about having a temper. Suddenly feeling curious, you asked, “How good does it feel to punch crime in the face?”

A wolfish smirk spread across his face before he answered, “Sometimes very good. Why?”

You shrugged, “Don’t know. Maybe I’m looking for a career change. Punching bad guys sounds more fun than getting punched by bad guys.”

You got the impression he was giving you a very stern look from behind that mask. That mouth pressed together in a thin line was all disapproval. “How about you leave the punching bad guys to me and I’ll leave the baking to you?”

“How did you know I’m a baker?” you asked. Then felt a little stupid for asking. You were still wearing your chef’s jacket and an apron. It was pretty obvious that you worked with food . . .

“You smell like flour, yeast, butter, sugar, and spices which all says baker to me,” he said. “Through you also smell like peaches. The fruit, not the flowers.”

You blinked. That wasn’t the answer you were expecting. You also hadn’t realized that the scent of your peach beauty products were that strong. They smelled pretty light to you. But before you could think of a response to that, Daredevil rose to his feet. Which gave you a nice look at his legs which like his torso and arms was muscles for days barely contained by tight clothes. The black trousers weren’t quite as painted on as the shirt but they were snug enough. The naughtier parts of your mind wondered what it would be like to ride him, feeling those powerful thighs under you as he thrust up . . .

“Spitfire?”

Embarrassed warmth flood your face. While you were distracted, Daredevil had held out his hands and obviously asked if you wanted help standing. More than once if that amused smirk was any indication. You put your hands into his before you could embarrass yourself any further. A goal immediately challenged by watching the muscles in his arms flex as he helped pull you up onto your feet without a hint of strain. Because damn if that wasn’t hot . . .

Thankfully this time you managed not to become so distracted by the sexy vigilante that you just stood like there drooling like an idiot. You slide your hands out of his and then, to prevent yourself from staring at all those muscles (again), started looking for your crossbody bag. You hoped that the mugger had dropped it during the fight with Daredevil. Because as much as you wanted and needed your things back, you also would rather not get any closer to that man than you had to.

It didn’t matter that mugger was (probably) unconscious and (very probably) too beaten up to be a threat anymore. Not to anxiety brain. Anxiety brain was seldom appeased by such frivolities as fact and logic. So when you spied the large, still shape on the ground, your heart started racing again.

“Don’t worry about him.”

You looked over at Daredevil. He wasn’t even looking in the same direction that you were but still seemed to know what you were looking at. Almost like he read your mind . . . could he read your minds? God, you hoped not . . .

“I promise he’s not going anywhere soon,” Daredevil continued, his earlier rage coloring his voice a little. Part of you wanted to know what the mugger had done to make him so angry but most of you decided that you were better off not knowing. Your brain did not need help coming up with nightmares.

Feeling reassured by Daredevil’s confidence (and the knowledge that he was still between you and the mugger), you looked for your bag again . . . there it was. It was closer than you expected. You started to move closer but your foot encountered something. Something metal judging by the sound against the concrete. You looked, hoping it wasn’t the knife.

It wasn’t . . . too small . . . you knelt down and discovered your necklace. You picked it up, glad that you wouldn’t have to try to find something so small in such poor lighting or run the risk of it being gone by morning. Which it probably would have been. Aside from the broken chain, you hoped the rest of it was undamaged. You ran your thumb across the surface . . . it didn’t feel like any of stones had gotten chipped or cracked . . . the engraving could still be read . . .

“What are you doing?”

You jumped a little at the voice before remembering Daredevil. You were surprised he was still here. Weren’t there other damsels in distress he needed to be rescuing?

“Not at the moment.”

Either you were still saying things outloud without realizing it or Daredevil could absolutely read minds. You decided to believe the former because the latter was too mortifying to contemplate.

“Checking my favorite necklace,” you said as you darted forward and grabbed your bag. “Doesn’t feel like anything but the chain got broken.”

He nodded. “Ice those bruises when you get home – ten minutes on, twenty off. And try to keep your head elevated. After two days, you can use a heat compress.”

“Ice and prop up tonight, heat in a couple days,” you repeated. At his confirming nod, you asked, “Are you a doctor or something?”

“Just familiar with bruises” he said. “Trust me, spitfire, the bad guys often hit back when you’re punching them.”

You nodded, then realized that any further delay was just stalling. But as much as part of you wanted to keep talking – how often did you get a chance to talk to one of the city’s heroes? – the rest of you was still tired, still feeling jittery-numb from the panic attacks, and still hurting. And you had work tomorrow. It was time to call it a night.

“I guess this is good night,” you said, taking one last look at the vigilante. Odds were, the only time you’d see him again was in the newspaper.

“Good night, spitfire,” Daredevil said. Maybe it was projection but his smile looked a little sad. Like he also knew this was probably the first and only time you would ever see each other.

You paused when you reached the street to pick up your bag of food. It was probably a mess but you were definitely weren’t going to cook when you got home. As you walked away, you faintly heard the low rumble of Daredevil’s voice, presumably talking to the police on that phone.

Notes:

A Tale of Two Men is a reference to A Tale of Two Cities, an 1859 novel by Charles Dickens. I’m thinking about making all of the titles for this series reference book titles.

It occurred to me recently that my Reader characters in the series all are some level of anxious. Probably because I have anxiety and that colors how I perceive the world. Hence the Reader with anxiety.

The alien invasion is a reference to the events of Avengers I. Fair warning that some of the larger events of the MCU will not be depicted same as they were in canon. Accept that this is an alternate universe and move on.

I know Charlie Cox has brown hair but in some lighting for Matt Murdock, his hair does have reddish tint . . . and Matt in the comics is (generally speaking) a redhead so I’ve compromised by making Matt Murdock have dark auburn hair, the kind that looks brown unless the light hits it right and brings out the red.

Reader is sighted but knows how to read braille. The story behind this will be revealed later.

This knowledge is only reason Reader considers the misprinted menu of nonsense to be funny. She would have not find it funny if she found out about the misspellings and such after handing it to customers.

From my understanding, using the hands of a clock is the best way to tell a blind person where something is relative to their position. The menu of nonsense was right in front of Matt so at his 12 o’clock. Directly behind would have been his 6 o’clock, etc.

In braille, the symbols for numbers 1 – 9 and the letters A – I are the same along with J and 0. The number sign is written before tells you those symbols are meant to be read as numbers instead of letters. So 123 instead of ABC. If I have the information right, a second number sign is used to indict the end of the numbers and return to letters.

But all of my knowledge of braille is self-taught so don’t take my words as gospel here.

A red eye is a 12 oz (340 g) cup of drip coffee topped with a single or double shot of espresso.

A cappuccino is a coffee drink with a double shot of espresso topped with a very frothy milk. It is slightly stronger than a latte because it has less milk.

A dirty chai latte is a coffee drink with a double shot of espresso, then a chai concentrate is poured into the milk which is frothed. Finally the milk and espresso are combined.

Crèma is a dense layer of foam that forms the top of an espresso shot and is a unique characteristic to the brewing method (forcing very hot water under pressure through finely ground compacted coffee).

At least in this fic, Matt Murdock is a proud member of The Pie Appreciation Society. The Society ranks include its long serving president Dean Winchester.

How much a lawyer makes a year depends on where they work and what kind of law they practice. People who work in public sector offices like a public defender or a state prosecutor generally make a comfortable living but they are never going to get wealthy doing that job. There are some lawyers who charge six figures or more per billable hour but those seem to be litigators and they aren’t as common as the associates who charge something less crazy (through probably still an eye-watering amount of money to some).

It’s Nelson & Murdock because (1) this takes place not too longer after the 3rd Season so they are still working out of the back of Nelson’s Meats and (2) New York law prohibits the formation of the Law Firm of Nelson, Murdock, and Page unless all three are attorneys. So if Karen wants her name on the sign, she has a law degree to earn and a bar exam to pass. Which she just might do in this universe.

The white cane is held in one’s dominant hand. I picked the left hand for Matt as another nod to his comic book counterpart who is (again usually) left-handed.

Esquire is an honorific title that is only used in the United States for lawyers for . . . reasons. No one seems to know why.

‘Flick the bean’ is a euphemism for female masturbation.

A chef's knife is a knife about 8 inches (20 cm) long used for chopping, slicing, and dicing meat and vegetables. Unless you have something like a meat cleaver, it is probably the biggest knife in your kitchen.

The favorite necklace is part of some story elements so this is not a generic favorite necklace but a specific favorite necklace. But if you want to mentally change the specific elements of its later description to better suit yourself, go right ahead.

A lobster clasp is the one that looks a like a lobster claw.

Matt is in the Black Suit since he has yet to replace the Red Suit – the old one being too damaged by the Midland Circle and only other one in existence was worn by the impostor who murdered people. A version of the Red Suit will eventually appear (since as hot as the black suit is, the guy without a healing factor needs body armor) but I’m still working out how.

The description of the panic attack (shortness of breath, sensory overload, etc) along with its aftereffects (exhaustion, mood swings, etc) are based on my experiences.

Spitfire is nickname for someone with a temper, possibly referencing the WW2 plane.

The treatment for bruises comes from internet so grains of salt are advised.

A chef's jacket is a double-breasted jacket with mandarin collar commonly worn by chefs and bakers, traditionally made from thick, white cotton cloth but can be made in different colors these days. The thickness of the jacket is meant to help protect the chef or baker from heat, steam, and splashing liquids in a busy kitchen. Frequently the jacket has long sleeves to help protect arms while reaching into the ovens.

#daredevil #fan fic #fan fiction #cozy corners #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #tw anxiety #tw panic attack #ao3 link

[aroaceleovaldez]

okay outside of the retcons and continuity errors in TSATS, I think the main part that bugs me is how much the book seems to infantilize Nico, particularly relating to his relationship with Will. Especially because the book seems to remember and then forget again that Nico is autistic only when it’s convenient to infantilize him further.

Nico is randomly nerfed and basically helpless at literally everything the entire book. There is not a single fight EVER in the book that he actually fights without someone else very directly doing the work for him or actively helping him (usually LITERALLY holding his hand), save for that singular time where he sneak-attack kills the monster that just regenerated, but honestly that doesn’t really count as a fight. Or the aeternae, but they literally weren’t attacking him.

He’s in the underworld! He’s been dating Will for a year! How is he completely incapable of the simplest tasks? He tries to help Will - in the infirmary (is helpless at it), patch up his wounds (Will’s condition only worsens), put batteries in a sun lamp (he drops the batteries) - every time he manages to fuck up like he’s never done a single task in his life before. He runs away from every fight or someone else does the work for him because he’s randomly incapable of it for some random excuse. He completely loses several notable powers of his (only ever using one of his powers the entire book, and the only other reference to his powers is his shadow-travel which we don’t actually see) and acts like he’s physically incapable of them even though they logically should be the best answer for a particular situation (geokinesis! dream powers! influencing fear/nightmares! one-tap kill dissolve-you-to-bones! rip souls out of living people!) Yet Will randomly can do everything he can’t - generates two completely new powers to fight Nyx with (alongside bringing back an old power that got forgotten)! Plus a third (growing flowers/plants) that doesn’t even have anything done with it! Can pick the fruit from Persephone’s garden when Nico can’t (LITERALLY IN NICO’S OWN HOME)! Nico panicking? Soothes him without even trying. Will saves Nico in fights like five different times when he’s supposed to be the one with zero combat experience and explicitly isn’t a fighter (and doesn’t even have a weapon) and Nico’s the one who lived on his own as a rogue for three years! They’re in the Underworld, Nico’s home, and Will - WHILE ON DEATH’S DOORSTEP. LITERALLY. - is more powerful than him! For no reason! Nico is a Big 3 kid! He’s SUPPOSED to be extremely op! We don’t even see Nico speak to any true ghosts the entire book and they even acknowledge that he’s Ghost King!

And then on top of it all, the narrative keeps treating Nico as not knowing what’s best for himself and making Will always correct. Or making it so Will is the only one who is able to comfort Nico ever. And have Nico constantly refer to Will with almost exclusively babyish pet-names - “Night-light,” “Care bear” (when logically Nico shouldn’t even know anything about Care Bear lore?), even “sun therapy lamp” isn’t great. The constant “My little ball of darkness” also isn’t great? Like, if you establish that Nico’s extremely short, then it’s not as bad cause then it’s a height joke, but since the book never establishes that it just reads as more infantilizing.

I get they were trying to hype up Will for this book and let him have some action scenes so it wasn’t just Nico dragging him through the Underworld for 50 chapters while he does nothing but be emotional support. And Nico’s powers usually means he very often acts as an almost literal dues ex machina in a lot of plots. But you can still work with that without nerfing Nico so much, or completely infantilizing him! Just because Nico has trauma doesn’t mean he can’t be capable on his own, and that doesn’t have to negate him having people he leans on for support! These things can coexist!

#tsats #the sun and the star #tsats spoilers #the sun and the star spoilers #pjo #riordanverse #nico di angelo #long post // #bi-weekly complaining time! okay now time to go doodle something silly

[bradshawsbaby]

Wedding Bells

Pairing: Rooster x Fiancee/Wife!Reader

Author’s Note: This one was specifically requested by @mercury-mae​! @destinywyatt​, I also included your suggestion!

I might suggest reading The Proposal before reading this one, just for a fuller picture! I also included some of the details that I had mentioned in Part I of “Rooster As Your Husband” in this one.

Comments, reblogs, and likes are always greatly appreciated!

Warnings: I made myself cry writing this one, so do with that what you will.

- “Whatever you want, baby,” becomes Rooster’s motto for every facet of the wedding planning process.

- It’s not that he doesn’t care. He actually cares very much. He just wants you to be happy about every aspect of your wedding day.

- No flower arrangement is too expensive, no venue is too extravagant, no dress is too out of budget.

- You know Rooster would spend his last dime to make you happy, but you refuse to allow him to do that. While you want your wedding to be beautiful, you’re more concerned about building a life and a marriage than about one day. You create a budget for yourself and stick to it strictly.

- Rooster tries his best to be involved in the planning process, but his eyes often start to glaze over when you begin going into specific details.

- “Whatever you pick is going to be great, honey. I know it,” he always says, grinning and kissing you when he can’t handle any more wedding talk.

- The two of you agree that you want a fairly traditional, simple wedding. Within a few months of your engagement, you have a date locked in for mid-February (you want to avoid the heat of a spring/summer wedding in California), the church is booked, and you’ve put down the deposit for a converted barn for your reception space.

- Since you have no sisters, you ask Phoenix to be your maid of honor, which she’s touched to accept. You also ask a few of your closest friends to serve as your bridesmaids. They’re more than happy to accept, especially when they see the handsome groomsmen that are going to be escorting them down the aisle: Payback, Fanboy, Bob, Coyote, and Hangman.

- Rooster asks Maverick to be his best man, which makes him extremely emotional.

- “Could we ask you something else, Mav?” you ask, Rooster’s arm draped around your shoulders as you sit down to lunch with the man who is like a father to you both. Considering your own father abandoned your family when you were a kid, there’s no one else you could imagine asking this question of. “Would you walk me down the aisle?”

- Maverick can only nod, too choked up to verbalize a response.

- Your mom flies out to California from Florida to go dress shopping with you, as well as with Phoenix and your other bridesmaids. You have a pretty clear vision of what you want, so it doesn’t take long for you to find the dress of your dreams. As soon as you step out in it, everyone starts crying, even Phoenix, so you know it’s the one.

- “You’re going to lose your mind when you see her in that dress,” Phoenix tells Rooster the next day. “It looks like it was made for her.”

- Rooster knows you’re going to be the most breathtaking bride, and he tells you so on a frequent basis. He makes a special effort to remind you when you’re feeling particularly stressed out, sitting on the couch in your sweatpants and messy bun, trying to iron out last minute details.

- “I’d marry you right now, sweatpants and all” he says, nuzzling your neck until he makes you laugh. He hates seeing you stressed out, so he does whatever he can to help lighten the load.

- In addition to planning the wedding and your honeymoon in Hawaii, the two of you also close on a new apartment, more spacious and perfect for starting your lives together as a married couple hoping to start a family.

- As you begin moving things into the new apartment, you help Rooster go through boxes of things that belonged to his parents, things he hadn’t had the heart to go through on his own, especially after his mother’s death.

- While flipping through an old paperback that must have belonged to Carole, you’re surprised to find an old photograph tucked carefully between the pages. Your heart skips a beat when you realize it’s a photograph from Bradley’s parents’ wedding. It’s not a professional photograph. It looks like a picture one of their guests must have snapped on a disposable camera. Neither Goose nor Carole seemed to be aware that the photo was being taken. They were too busy gazing at each other with the most unadulterated look of adoration. It brought tears to your eyes to look at them. You recognize the look on Carole’s face quite well. It’s the way you look at Bradley all the time.

- You’re not sure if Bradley has ever seen this photograph before, but you decide to tuck it away carefully, a special idea coming to mind.

- Rooster surprises you a few days before the wedding with a stunning necklace, a delicate gold chain with a simple diamond hanging from it. “It was my mom’s,” he tells you, brushing your hair aside as he tenderly clasps it around your neck. “I know she’d have really loved for you to have it. I thought maybe it could be your ‘something borrowed,’” he adds with an emotional smile.

- Resting a hand over the necklace, you can hardly speak for the tears burning your eyes. “I would be honored to wear it, baby,” you whisper, kissing him softly. From that day on, you hardly ever take that necklace off.

- At your rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding, things go smoothly, which is a massive relief to you. Rooster whispers in your ear all night what an amazing job you did putting everything together and how he can’t wait to make you his wife the next day.

- You spend that night at Phoenix’s, knowing you’re not going to see Rooster again until you’re walking down the aisle to meet him in the church. He’s very traditional and doesn’t want the two of you to see each other until the wedding, which is more than fine with you. You’ve never been a fan of the whole “first look” trend.

- Though you don’t see each other before the wedding, you do write each other letters for the other to read while you’re getting ready. Naturally, Rooster’s letter is so beautiful and filled with so many sincere words of love that you find yourself crying and fanning your face to avoid ruining your make-up.

- I never thought I’d ever find someone to love me the way my mom loved my dad, but then I met you. You’re such a gift, baby girl. I think my parents sent you to me. Phoenix and your mom have to carefully dab your cheeks with tissues and convince you to tilt your head backwards while you read.

- Meanwhile, Rooster finds himself battling his own emotions as he reads your letter and finds the photograph you tucked inside it, the picture you discovered from Goose and Carole’s wedding.

- They’ll always be with you, my love, you had written across the back. Rooster cries, and then Maverick cries, at a loss for words when he sees the picture.

- “I took that picture,” Mav confesses, shocked to see it again after all these years.

- The two men share a hug and then Bradley slips the photograph inside his inner pocket, close to his heart so that he can carry his parents with him on the biggest day of his life.

- As promised, Maverick escorts you down the aisle, your eyes locked on Rooster’s the entire time. He can’t stop staring, his eyes wide and his mouth agape as you make your way towards him in the dress that makes you feel like a real princess.

- Once you get closer, you can see that he has tears in his eyes as he takes your hand from Maverick’s and leads you up onto the altar.

- Maverick steps up beside Rooster, in front of all the other groomsmen. All of them, Rooster included, are wearing their Navy Officer Dress White uniforms and looking particularly dapper. You may be a bit biased, but you think Rooster outshines them all.

- When the two of you are finally declared husband and wife, a cheer goes up from the crowd as Rooster cradles your face in his hands and kisses you deeply.

- “Thank you for the picture,” he whispers against your lips, pressing his forehead against yours.

- “You parents are here with us, too,” you whisper back, unable to stop smiling as Rooster takes your hand and leads you down the aisle, this time as man and wife.

- Everyone says afterward that your wedding reception is the most fun they’ve had in a long time. Between the open bar, the DJ who keeps everyone out on the dance floor all night, and the surprisingly delicious catering, what’s not to like?

- Your first dance is to “From This Moment On” by Shania Twain. Though you and Rooster don’t have your parents there to dance with for the father/daughter and mother/son dances, you decide to incorporate the little family that you’ve forged together. You dance with Mav to “Isn’t She Lovely” by Stevie Wonder and Rooster dances with Penny to “In My Life” by The Beatles.

- Maverick’s speech about how proud Goose and Carole would be of Rooster and how much they would have loved you makes everyone cry, including you and Bradley. You hold his hand the whole time, knowing the speech hits him hard.

- Phoenix gives a killer maid of honor speech, including some of the guys’ comments and stories (at their insistence).

- When Rooster realizes there’s a piano in the corner of the room, he convinces the DJ to take a break so that he can serenade everyone, especially you, with “Great Balls of Fire” in honor of his dad. Within seconds, all your guests are singing along and Rooster is pulling you down onto his lap to sing with him.

- Maverick watches from a distance with a smile. “Hey, Goose,” he whispers to his old friend.

- Phoenix catches the bouquet and Hangman catches the garter. She flips him off and rolls her eyes when he inevitably makes some perverted comment.

- At the end of the night, you and Rooster drive off in his truck, which your friends thoughtfully decorated in honor of the occasion.

- “I love you, Mrs. Bradshaw,” Rooster murmurs softly, lifting your hand and pressing a kiss to it as he drives.

- “I love you, too, Lieutenant Bradshaw,” you grin, your heart fluttering at the sight of the wedding band now resting securely on his finger.

- You laugh hysterically as Rooster lifts you up into his arms, wedding dress, veil, and all, to carry you into your new apartment once you arrive home.

- “You know, we do have to get up early for that flight to Hawaii,” you say, winking at him teasingly.

- “Well then I better take my wife to bed,” he smirks, kissing you as he carries you off to the bedroom, where the two of you officially become husband and wife.

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #x reader #x female reader #miles teller #top gun: maverick #request

[raindrop-on-a-spiderweb]

Sending love to one of the best writers on ao3 😘💕 I check your page frequently and wanted to ask about the things that you enjoy doing or aspire to do

Hi Anon, it's so sweet of you to send this ask to ask after me. Rest assured your words are appreciated on this end; thank you from the bottom of my heart and top of my soul 🫂 I'm very glad you think highly of my work even after so long, and I'm so so sorry I haven't had any new content in such a long time. But I am hard at work on a oneshot that will definitely be published before the next chapter of Samarra, so the well won't stay dry for long! The summary is “A jaded prison nurse must come to rely on a man she hates and fears in the midst of a deadly prison riot.” I started writing it in the ward; it's based off of the Moundsville Penitentiary which is an especially spooky place I've been to–an old 19th century prison made of towering stone turrets, eerie high ceilings, and rusted iron cells packed together like pigsties. I'm hoping to get that atmosphere across; it's about ⅔ of the way finished so good progress is being made!

Well I enjoy writing, most of all, but I've already talked about that in detail a thousand times so I'll spare you. I love reading, of course (I just finished “The Five”, about the victims of Jack the Ripper, and it's a fascinating bit of history and an incredible and horrifying look at Victorian-era industrial Britain). I love exploring the mountains with my cats trotting along beside me and photographing what I find. In all honesty I'm a bit of a trappist–I rarely see people except hunters and cashiers, and most of my time is spent alone with myself or my dad. But each day is an adventure when you're in nature and each season brings primordial and beautiful changes– I collected watercress the other day and found the downy remains of a fawn. 

I love watching old movies. My dad and I were watching Laurel and Hardy last night and I swear it holds up a century later. Before that we watched King Rat, which is one of his–and my–favorite movie; about two men stuck in a Japanese prison camp and the Machiavellian and underhanded ways they survive there. The book is particularly good too, and the epilogue about rats devouring each other has haunted my dreams for a long time. 

On the same subject, a series that I highly recommend is called Tenko, which is very similar to King Rat, except the prisoners are women. It's so grueling, realistic and enrapturing; I've never seen anything that so squarely focuses on women's experiences, relationships with each other, the hardships they face, and how they struggle to survive together in a thankless, deprived environment. The backstabbing and despair that comes in their darkest moments, the love and support in which they uplift each other with, their mistrustful and uneven relationships with their captors that occasionally erupt in friendships and affairs–and all the episodes are on dailymotion, too!

https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x74u4fi

I like dreaming most of all. So many of my story ideas come from my dreams. The worst thing in the world is waking up and trying to catch the stray strands of the dream slipping through your fingers. It's amazing to live so many lives–good or bad–inside your head. Sometimes when I wake up, I feel a sweeping, palpable sense of relief that I don't live in the world I conjured last night, and sometimes I wish I could just claw myself back into my brain and live in that little pocket world for the rest of my life.

I do not aspire to much. I don't really have any base wishes but to keep writing and live til 70. We all have our hopeful fantasies, of course, and when I finally do get Ragnatela on Amazon Kindle (Microsoft Word is trying to swindle me out of one hundred and fifty American dollars to use their dogshit platform, and since the manuscript is half-edited, I'm afraid to lose my formatting if I switched to a free program like Libreoffice) maybe it will get some attention. 

I still intend on writing on Ao3 until the day I die, though. Even with its unsavory content I have such a soft spot for its unrestricted freedom of speech and prose. Plus I don't want to give up talking to you guys and goofing off in the comments ☹️ I also aspire to stop drinking. I'm sure I've already shaved a few years off my lifespan with my tippling habit. But when one day is much like the other, is there much point in extending it?

I aspire to travel around the United States more. I took a trip through the Deep South to visit Savannah and it was enrapturing; something I will remember for the rest of my life. Rusted-out cars felted in green moss, skinny, grazing horses in windswept fields, peeling roadside signs advertising tent revivals, clownish golliwogs behind still windows of cafes, forgotten tugboats half-sunken into lagoons, highway strip hotels where craggy hookers peered at you suspiciously from their fold-up chairs, and derelict cemeteries separated between Union and Confederate. It was just post-Irma and we were often the only tourists at any of these places. The effects of the hurricane were stark and obvious, with the land in a state of shock before any official agencies came to clean them up. I remember boats crashed into the harbor and grandfather trees felled in front of opulent antebellum homes, and the sea churned brown and murky when we trekked to the beach. The sense of desolation, and not only from the hurricane, was chilling–but I loved being there and loved being swathed by the kudzu and history. My mother is very ill and before she dies we might make up briefly and take a trip to New Orleans together and explore rural Louisiana; I'd always wanted to write a story set in New Orleans. Louisiana is a fascinating state with its mixture of Napoleonic and Creole influences; and I've always been drawn to the grand, decaying tombs of New Orleans as much as I have been to the odd Francophone swamps and their hidden dialects and traditions. And one day I would like to go way, way out west and explore the Gold Rush ghost towns. All the mines where I am are filled-in, so I would like to venture underneath the earth just once. 

Most of all, I aspire to be alone, and live by myself for the rest of my life, far away from town, somewhere in the mountains like where I am now. I wish I didn't have to see another person for the rest of my life. Being alone with myself is bad enough, being with others is intolerable.

Anyways, I apologize for my undue pleonasm, you caught me in a chatty mood 😀 Here's an excerpt from the newest prison one-shot:

Rhoda had met Jesse Fitzner her first day on the job. It was midway through her shift, and she was taking a lunch break and grading her sister Sherise's homework in her office. The day had started with a white-knuckle ride in early morning mist so thick she couldn't see the taillights of the car in front of her. Midway through her preliminary tour of the prison, an inmate had stuffed his toilet full of socks, which promptly overflowed and leaked sewage out of the cell onto her high heels. The hoots and jeers had made her speed up, trying to avoid the leering eyes of her future patients. And her introduction to the mental ward, by a younger but just as pessimistic Fawna, had not lifted her mood any either.

So there she sat in her office, snatching a moment of calmness and frantically scribbling corrections over Sherise's homework before her sister turned it in tomorrow. And then the door swung open.

A blond man poked his head in and briefly raised his eyebrows. He was wearing the omnipresent, drab gray prison uniform, pants and a sweatshirt rolled up to his elbows. "What are you up to?"

She flipped the cover of the notebook over.

"Going over my sister's homework. Is there something you need?"

"Passing on a message to Nurse Judson. One of the inmates wants to switch his blood pressure medication."

"Oh, she'll be back soon. I think she's–doing something with the prisoners. Just give her a few minutes."

"No hurry." He pulled the chair opposite her and sat down in it. "So you're grading your kid sister's homework? Shouldn't she be doing that herself?"

The man had thick blond hair that stuck up in back like a duck's tail, and very rosy cheeks. He looked like he had just shaven, by the nicks on his neck. 

"It's a long story. I should be–"

"I've got time. If this is your first day, you need to take some time to yourself to relax--else you'll end up in the infirmary."

Rhoda laughed. He had a nice smile and a nice manner about him–very jovial and friendly. It was refreshing to see a man who didn't stare at her like she was a piece of meat. "Well, my parents died when my brother and I were still young. Seth was seventeen, I was fifteen. He went to work so we didn't have to break up the family, and I stayed home to care for my little siblings, all three of them. It wasn't fun. I always wanted to do more for them than what I was stuck with, so I'm making sure they get good grades and go to good colleges. That's why I got this job in the first place, to put some back for their college funds."

"That's real decent of you. I don't know a single woman who would go so far for their family. You'd best be proud of yourself. Where's your brother now?"

"He's working out of state in Pennsylvania. He found a good woman and has a concrete contracting business now."

"You got yourself a man?"

"Never saw the need. Someday, maybe, when I'm lonelier."

"Working here for a few years will train that loneliness for a man right outta of you." 

They both laughed at that, and Rhoda felt her tensed muscles begin to relax. "I didn't catch your name."

"Jesse Lee Fitzner." He reached across the desk to grip her hand. For being such a small-built man, he had a crushing handshake.

"Rhoda Ames. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"I knew a few Ameses when I was on the outside. Where your folks from?"

"Beckworth, west of here."

"Oh, you're bullshitting me. I have folks from there too. You don't know a Harry Fitzner, do you?"

"Harry who used to run the car repair shop?"

"That's him! My uncle. He retired a few years ago. His lungs got to him. Too much time in the mines."

The door slammed open again. An elderly prison guard, who had greeted her rather abruptly upon her hiring and who had a hard and wrinkled face, was standing in the doorway. When he saw Jesse, his face grew harder. "What are you doing here, inmate?"

Jesse raised his hands, still not moving from where he was leaning back on the chair. "Just dropping off a message for Nurse Judson."

"Next time, leave the message with Nurse Ames and promptly return to your cell. There's no reason for you to be here actin' so friendly."

To Rhoda's mild disappointment, the guard grabbed Jesse by his arm and yanked him out, harder than he needed to. Before he was escorted out, Jesse tossed a glance over her shoulder and winked at her. "Rhoda, you're a young lady, and I'm a bit of a spring chicken myself. I think we would get along real well outside these walls."

Rhoda couldn't help the giggle that bubbled up from her throat. She felt lightheaded. She was a rangy and abrupt woman with a working tan, and hadn't much experience with men flirting with her.

When Jesse was marched out, Rhoda stood up and grabbed her peaked nurse's cap, girding her loins for the next shift on the ward. While she was counting medications, the elderly guard–Miles–came in again and shut the door behind him. She flinched, expecting a dressing-down on her first day of work. I wasn't fraternizing with the prisoner, was I? Am I… am I gonna lose my job?

He sat down opposite her. "You ever hear that tale 'bout the lady and the snake?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to–"

"Old story; old, old story. One of them Aesop stories they wrote when people was still in togas and carved words in stone. A woman was walking home one day when she saw a frozen snake lying on the side of the road. It begged her to save its poor little self, this little creature of God. So taking pity on it, the woman brought it home and warmed it by the fire between her breasts. And as it thawed, it bit her breast. 'Oh, why would you do such a thing? Your poison will kill me,’ she wailed. And the snake smiled and said, 'You knew I was a snake before you brought me into your house.'"

Rhoda stared at him, puzzled. "I don't understand."

"You know what that fellow did to get in here? Fitzner was top dog in a motorcycle gang outside of prison. A real nasty one. He ordered a contract killing on a rival gang member. They snatched the poor fellow when he was leaving a bar. Hung him from a tree, broke his legs with doublejack hammers, used him as target practice with their sawed-offs, cut his dick off and shoved it in his mouth, then left and let him choke on it and bleed to death for the rest of the night. He was out, too, far out in the mountains, and they only found him weeks later when a hunter stumbled on him. One of the killers snitched on Fitzner in exchange for dropping a drug felony sentence he was staring at. That snitch went into hiding and changed his name. Two days after Fitzner was taken to this good penitentiary, he was found with his head beaten in, in a dry creek bed."

Rhoda's head began to spin in slow whirls. Her hand where Jesse had shaken it grew very clammy. She remembered his bright smile across the desk, his dark eyes, and felt bile and vomit churn in her throat.

"You both were talking for a while, I noticed. He's good at prising information out of people, Fitzner is. A boyish smile and a few good words and he can make both men and women melt like butter on yer tongue. See? Now he knows who you are, and where your folks live. Now he can get to you."

Rhoda tried to talk, but her tongue was paralyzed. She looked down and wiped her sweaty hands on her knees.

Miles got up and went over to the door. He looked out of the window set on top, and his hard face relaxed. He seemed much older in that moment, more wrinkled and exhausted.

"You'd best be careful of him, Nurse Ames. He's a bad 'un. I'll be glad to see the back of him."

As it turned out, Miles retired later that year and it was Jesse who saw the back of him. 

And Rhoda became very wary of him from then on. Whenever he saw her in the hall, in the chow line, in the infirmary, he smiled at her and tried to make small talk. She ignored him, or was curt with him.

Unfortunately, he seemed to take that as an invitation.

#personal #asks #writing

[sonosvegliato]

Currently rereading "to an athlete dying young" and going absolutely insane over it, it is so well written!

I have yet to find anyone who is even half as good as you are at establishing insanely high tension/stakes while also doing comedic relief the way you do, every single interaction absolutely kills me. Especially Tim's interactions with Jason and Bruce are so incredibly interesting, you really nail those!!!!!

Reading your fic isn't enough, I need to print it out & eat it.

That being said, what does your writing process look like, if you don't mind me asking?

This is a question I only imagined getting once I have my original work published, so thank you for stoking the ever-hotter flames of my ego while I shoot into the stratosphere.

When I am famous with 10 books published and documentaries are made about me, I dream I will have a well-polished answer for to this question. SYKE.

Process:

F around and find out. Not in a threatening way. Just like—playing around with ideas like they're Legos and you are a three year old baby.

A lot of the time I get a snippet of something and I do a "sketch" of it before I forget it. I have a lot of these, and some of them are impossible to interconnect, so I literally take apart the story and rearrange it, and will do this once, twice, or five times to get through a single scene. I read this writing advice once where if you're stuck on a scene than the problem you really have is a chapter back, and I'm not much for universal writing advice, but I do believe that if I'm stuck in a place, then something else has got to be better. Sort of like pulling a car in park over and over again until you sorta get in in between the lines. I am really bad at parking. Literally not figuratively.

To an Athlete Dying Young is probably the closest to plotting I've ever been, since I'm using what actually happened in the comics as a loose guide for the events in the series. But I still write snippets that I jam together and take apart and peel and stick. My document looks like [LINKS NOTES RESEARCH] [STORY STORY STORY STORY] [RANDOM SCENE] [STORY] [SNIPPET SNIPPET SNIPPET SNIPPET] with some hyping myself up in between. Example of my "plotting", pure and unedited:

^ wouldn't you like to know where this is from

And here's a snippet that was possibly going to be in hold the low lintel up. I was going to have Tim move in with Jason. This is everything I wrote for it, so you're not missing any context:

“I’ve had to move out of my house,” Tim continues. 

“That’s…a change. Can I ask what—”

“My uncle isn’t real,” Tim says.

Hood lifts his hands. They pause in the air for twenty seconds before he lowers them, fingers extended towards Tim. “What?”

“My uncle’s fake. I made him up. They’d’ve made me live somewhere else, otherwise,” Tim says. “I…I don’t want to live there.”

He leans against the warehouse wall, feels the dusty wood under the flat of his hands. “So, anyway, I was just wondering…” He glances at his shoes, then back to Hood. Nervousness, with an ounce of confidence. Just a pinch, not too much. Very little trust can take you very far. “If it were maybe possible…”

He trails off just as Hood starts to lean forward. Hook, line—

“Could I stay with you?”

—and sinker.

“I don’t think so,” Hood says.“Why not move in with your brother?”

“He’s working. I couldn’t do that to him.” And he lives too far away. 

“I’m working, too,” Hood says. “And I can guarantee I’m not doing the kind of things your cop brother will like.”

“Alright. Well, if you want to find me, you can find me in the Bowery, where that old church is. I don’t think any rogues have made their hideouts there, but I guess I’ll find out.” 

“Park Row isn’t safest place in the world right now,” Hood says. “You know there’s a reason people call it Crime Alley, right?”

“I’ve been around here longer than you think.”

“Look. Kid. You can’t stay with me. And with all these new murders, I don’t think it’s a good idea you’re even coming here. I get it. You don’t want child services sniffing your ass. I get that more than anybody, but. There are people out there, strangers even, who are willing to help you.”

It’s not a guilt trip. It’s a gentle emotional suggestion. It’s taking Hood by the collar and throwing him over Tim’s shoulder to slam him into a giant guilt pit that only gets deeper the more he struggles. Tim’s English teacher calls it pathos. 

Then the suit for an extra layer of DRAMA.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Also, Tim and Superboy were supposed to be better friends and have sleepovers.

“You were sleep talking,” Superboy says. “It woke me up.”

“Sorry,” Tim says. 

“You don’t look so good, bro. You going to be sick or something?”

“No.”

“What were you dreaming about?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Tim hears the sheets shift as Superboy turns over. 

“I don’t have dreams,” he says. “I hear they can be pretty gnarly though. Was yours gnarly?”

“Yeah.”

“You drink apple juice before bed?”

“No.”

“Good. I hear apple juice fucks you up.” 

They fall silent. Tim doesn’t have his phone to distract him. He stares in the darkness at the blank wall. 

“And cheese,” Superboy says. “Cheese will make you dream some wild shit. Again, can’t say if it’s true. But that’s what the internet told me. I learn a lot of things on the internet.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Finally, Black Canary was going to have a role similar to the one she has in Young Justice.

I actually have quite a few snippets of her being sort of Tim's therapist, stereotypical Couch of Mental Breakdowns included, but it never got included into the story, just remained outlier scenes. Also Tim was not very receptive to talking it out.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Summary: If I'm bored in the story, I throw a firecracker and watch stuff blow up ✌️

Thank you for asking! And it's an absolute honor to have written a story that's both worth a reread and being eaten. Hope this entertains you until I get the next part up!

#batman fanfiction #tim drake #fanfic #my fic #rock on yo

[nightmare-catguy]

Johnny’s sexual escapade chapters (1) are a bit grating, however, Johnny isn’t really a super reliable narrator here. There’s some stuff he says I believe, and other things I don’t. He fucks every girl he comes into contact with, to the point where a woman entering the story, it’s pretty predictable what happens next. But then again, I don’t know. If he lies about sex, wouldn’t he lie about Thumper? Is she so Godly to him, he can’t even imagine being on her level? But thats not true really, he’s had dreams about her that are the usual flair of Johnny Horny. I guess what I find is that, there is no sanctuary for Truant.

Johnny Truant openly tells us a few times he’s a liar though, he does so very casually, opening up about his fantastical stories. At the same time he can be very honest, but only to an extent. I think to protect himself. The story of his chipped tooth is dark, and yes in some ways detailed, but not as detailed as Johnny can get. (2)

Sex is something that can take your mind off of things, especially if your stress response is “I need to get laid.” Sex is a comfort (3), even if its momentary. Pleasure, women, drugs— He burried himself in this shit. To the point of access. To the point where I question his point of view.

________________________________________

1. I don’t think they’re chapters, but I don’t know what else to call them.

2. Garry Callough, “The Truth of Truant,” The New York Times, August 13th, 2003, section 23.

3. Personally I try to use sex as a way to evade my fears as well. But funnily enough I find myself often in Johnny’s shoes. I don’t think I’m as bad as he is though. I’m reading through House of Leaves at a stupid speed (i’m around 400 pages in) It’s been around 3 days since I started, I didn’t expect it to hook me so well. So needless to say I’ve kinda been lost on the sauce. A quiet treck down the stairs at night has my hair standing on end. The Navidson Record is a super cool story, but it sure does sneak up on you. It’s creepiness. Kind of like how I felt about Skinamarink, which is why I wanted to read this book. But despite trying to slip into the comfort of my boyfriend’s face. His body, especially the fantasy of it. Loose myself in a bit, so I could take comfort in the idea of his presence. I glanced over my shoulder to the black closet that stood behind me. I had a dim lamp on, I guess its light only punctured the closet’s entrance but the rest of it. Just pitch black, no wonder people think monsters live in places like that.

It had such a presence to me.

I looked away, I’m not really scared of the dark. I often feel through it in the night for a glass of water, my house is familiar to me y’know? But what if it suddenly wasn’t? I mean in some ways its changed quite a bit since I came back from college. My closet especially, mom renovated it. It looks nice but it smelled foreign for awhile. It had a unpleasant sort of sour scent. The wood was stained and hadn’t really properly dried yet, so the smell just stuck to everything including my clothes. I think my mom found the scent pleasant but it made my closet supremely more alien. So now there it is, my sour smelling closet giving me the stink eye.

No not really, it’s more akin to a hollowed out eye socket when it gets that dark.

#thoughts #house of leaves #johnny truant #the navidson record #im semi shit posting #but i like the wroting style of house of leaves lol #im being a goober sorry not sorry. #my closet really did weird me out after this book tho #5 minute closet beuh.

[liminalpebble]

Eddie's Education, Chapter 30

Minors DNI

Masterlist link

Chapter 30

“I wish the Ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened.”

“So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.”

Eddie paused his dramatic recitation, hastily marking his raggedy paperback edition of The Lord of the Rings with a dogeared corner. He thought for a moment that he saw her stir, begin to wake, anything...but he was just seeing what he wanted to see out of the corner of his eye. It must have been the hundredth time he checked.

He reached over to hold Leia's hand. He didn't like seeing her lovely arms tangled up in tubes and medical tape and the mask strapped over her mouth, it looked a little too much like Vecna's trap. The memory was still fresh; literal and figurative wounds still raw.

His big coffee-colored eyes welled up, and his throat ached as his gaze shifted to the pile of books he'd brought to read to her. The same ones always called out to him from the bottom of the stack each time he looked; The Haunting of Hill House and The Silmarillion.

Her books, he always thought to himself (although she had given them to him). Books that had traveled with her all her life, smelled like her perfume, and contained handwritten letters to him on their front pages. Eddie couldn't bring himself to read them yet. To do so felt like he would be admitting her absence was permanent. It felt like giving up on her.

When she wakes up, she'll tell me herself. She'll look into my eyes and smile and tell me all the sweet things she wrote and she'll tell me her dreams for our lives together now that all this is over and I'll get to kiss her again and hold her again and...

Eddie put his head in his hands, rubbing roughly at his red eyes in frustration, nearing tears, when he heard a stern voice.

“Edward Munson.”

He looked up to see two of Hawkins' finest in their uniforms and buzz cuts staring him down.

He swallowed and heaved out a heavy sigh, disguising his feelings with a veneer of annoyance. “It's 'Eddie', Brad. You know that. We went to high school together.”

“Watch it,” Brad said in a warning tone, “it's Officer Vernon now.”

Eddie rolled his eyes then plastered on a shit-eating grin as he said, “and what can I do for you this fine day, Officers?” dripping with condescension.

The other one, whose face was still pock-marked with acne and looked like he belonged in gym class, not on the force, said, “I guess we should cut to the point, right? Officer Vernon and I have been putting some things together about you, Mr. Munson.”

Eddie raised his eyebrow in mock-surprise. “Such as?”

Brad spoke up louder, annoyed that it was taking this long, “That two very strange deaths have occurred in the last week...John Ferguson and Sam Huxley. Now, looking into things, it seems your new little girlfriend over there rubbed both of these guys the wrong way. AND...their autopsy reports look a whole lot like Chrissy Cunningham's...remember her, Eddie? You should, since you were the last one to see her alive.”

Eddie stood up, getting right in Brad's stupid pig face and said through gritted teeth, barely holding himself back, “Leia didn't do anything to anybody, and neither did I. You just want some easy targets and to get off on some little power trip. If you have rude bullshit to say about me, or especially, about her, you're not going to spout it off here, Barney Fife! Have some fucking respect.”

The piss ant one who looked like he was 14 said, “Why bother? She's in a coma.”

Eddie grabbed the front of his uniform with a wild look in his eyes, vibrating with rage.

Just then a burly cop with thick gray hair, a goatee, and a permanent scowl sauntered up behind them, looking over his glasses and holding a mug of coffee. He bellowed out, “Hey. What the fuck, guys? I'm months from retirement and you're here to pull this stupid bully act? What are you, 12?”

The two officers turned around. The young one looked ready to piss his pants. Brad squeaked out, “Chief Hopper!! Sir.”

Hop just shook his head and looked to Eddie. “Easy, kid. Let's talk.” He looked back to his subordinates and commanded, “and you two....fuck off, will you? You don't go anywhere near either of them again or I'll have you on desk duty for the rest of your lives. Learn some respect. Is that clear?”

“Yes sir,” they mumbled, slinking off with their tails between their legs.

When they were out of earshot and out of view, Eddie slumped out of his aggressive stance to land heavily right back into the plastic chair, head flopping heavily back into his hands. Hop pulled up a chair next to him and patted him on the shoulder. After a long moment, Eddie sat back up with a deep inhale and said, “I thought in 15 years Brad would have grown a brain cell or two. Guess I was wrong.”

Hop gave a deep chuckle and said, “Sorry about that. If it's any consolation, I didn't hire them.”

Eddie chuckled. “Thanks for the save, Hop, but I'm not a kid anymore. I'm 35.”

Hop grunted in affirmation and blew on his coffee. “Yeah I know, but when I look at you, I still see that scared kid with a good heart stuck in a holding cell. You had a whole lifetime's worth of tough breaks by the time you were 18...not to mention a complete asshole of an old man.”

Eddie smiled faintly at the memory. “You helped me out. I don't think you know how much. I still owe you for that.”

“No, you don't,” Hop said, with a soft shake of his head, “this town owes you. You were a hero and it never even knew. All it's ever done is take from you and beat you down. You and I know the truth of everything..all this unbelievable weird shit that's gone on in this godforsaken place...it's a lot to live with. I hope you and that nice girl leave Hawkins in the dust some day soon. You deserve better...a place where you can breathe easy.”

Eddie turned, blinking in disbelief and said, slowly, meaning it from the depth of his soul, “Thank you, Hop.” Old Jim was usually a man of few words, so this heartfelt monologue came as a real shock.

Hopper cleared his throat. “What um...What's the prognosis?”

It took Eddie a long time to respond. “They...uh...they have no idea. None of it is anything they've seen before. The upside-down does weird things to....they..they don't know.”

He trailed off, and Hop figured it was time to change the subject.

“Have you slept at all? It's been three days....eaten?”

“Um. I think? Here and there,” Eddie answered in a daze, aware of his own body for the first time in half a week. He tested the waters of this awareness by stretching his back gingerly, which gave up a loud crack of complaint in response. He looked down at his arms and saw his own collection of bruises and cuts. They looked painful, but he hardly felt them. All he could think about was her, and how he was determined to be by her side when her eyes opened, even if he had to sleep in that chair another week, another month...another year...the rest of his life.

They both looked up, as they heard the click of approaching dress shoes. Eddie groaned and tapped his head back against the wall, whining, “Oh Jesus, what the fuck now?”

Two men and one lady in severe black suits made their way into Leia's room. Eddie scowled, and quipped “Sure, come right in. Make yourselves at home.”

Hopper was relieved to see El (his adopted daughter) trailing closely behind them. Maybe she could explain all this. He had an idea of where they were from and it made him uneasy, but El had dealt with these government types so many times (was raised by them, even, before she ran away). She would know who and how much to trust.

Eddie squinted for a moment, digging into his foggy recollection of those early days after his extraction from the upside-down. “You...I know you.”

The lady smiled, but not warmly. “Yes, Mr. Munson. We were the ones who helped get you well again. We've been studying this other dimension since it's discovery...”

“You mean, since your people tortured and tested children in a laboratory to bust into it and make it everyone's problem.”

The man next to her huffed, but she responded coolly with an amused grin. “Yes. I suppose you could frame it that way. However, medical techniques from our research are what saved your life and they're going to be what saves hers. But, of course there are conditions.”

Eddies brows shot up. “Conditions? You're willing to withhold life-saving medical attention, which she needs because of your project gone haywire in the first place, if we don't agree to your 'conditions'?” He scoffed, “What is wrong with you people?”

“Hear us out, Mr. Munson. If you don't, she will never wake up again,” she stated bluntly.

All he could do was gulp. They knew exactly where they had him, pressing a blade right through the most devastatingly vulnerable rend in his armor...his love for her.

“Alright...I'm listening.”

@sweetsigyn @veemoon @elegantkoalapaper @little-wormwood

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x ofc

[hughungrybear]

15 people, 15 questions

I got tagged by @telomeke (the link to their post is here). Thanks for the tag! 😊

1. Are you named after anyone?

I came from a predominantly Catholic country so it is common to name babies after saints. Ironically, despite my saintly name, I was a real Tasmanian devil to my parents, teachers, and peers 😅

2. When was the last time you cried?

The last time that I sincerely cried was when my Dad passed away. I was eleven. After that, every event that made me "cry" barely wet my eyes 😅

3. Do you have kids?

No, and I don't plan to have any. I like kids - especially when I can hand them back to their respective mothers 😅 I don't have anything against motherhood, but I can barely support myself. Under the circumstances, it is not wise to bring another life into this world that I cannot support.

4. What sports do you play/have you played?

Oh boy. I used to do track and field, basketball, and soccer (football) when I was still in elementary (grade) school. However, my conservative home country deems these sports as too "manly" and therefore not appropriate for a growing 'lady'. So, they made me switch to cheer dance😤. Well, let's just say I have never danced again ever since lol.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Let's just say that sometimes, using sarcasm is the only way to retain my sanity 😅

6. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

The tone and shift of voice when they talk. Not entirely sure why though 😅😅😅

7. What’s your eye color?

Hazel brown with hints of darkest grey.

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

Definitely happy endings. I will not subject myself to torture by watching horror films/series no matter how critically acclaimed it is. That's because I have a very vivid imagination and I really love a peaceful sleep 🥲

9. Any talents?

Does mixing chemicals and formulating new adhesive products count? 😅 I can play the keyboard, and write poems and short stories (although, it's been a long time since I wrote my last one). I also do embroidery during my spare time.

10. Where were you born?

Funny story. I was born on the eve of our town's patron saint's day. Before the feast day, the town's roads are closed in preparation for the upcoming festivities. Unfortunately, my mum's water broke during an intense cleaning session of our house on the eve of the feast. Since the roads were closed, my father and grandma (my mother's mum) were forced to call a midwife and perform a home birth. Curiously, I did not cry as my mum pushed my small baby form out of her womb. Fearing that I was a stillbirth, the midwife had put me near an electric stove to help warm me up. It was only then that poor baby me started to cry (to the relief of everyone around)😅

TLDR: I was born at home but only showed a definitive sign of life in our old family kitchen.

11. What are your hobbies?

Reading books, scrolling through various socmed (Nowadays, though, it's mostly Tumblr and Reddit), and listening to some brand new music.

12. Do you have any pets?

When I was still living in my home country, I used to have dogs. However, moving to Australia, I was forced to leave them behind with our trusted relatives. We still Facetime though, so there's that.

13. How tall are you?

Sadly, I'm five feet flat, I am still hoping for some (miracle) growth spurt even in my thirties lol

14. Favorite subject in school?

I love history. I love reading about the beginning of things. I also had high grades in literature simply because I am an advanced reader (that is, I have already read the books on my teacher's list even before they have released them to the class).

15. Dream job

Somewhere where deadlines are a mere suggestion lol

Onward tagging (I know some of you have already done this, but give this poor hungry bear a break, I'm running out of people to tag: @lost-my-sanity1, @sparklyeyedhimbo, @imlivingformyselfdontmindme, @waitmyturtles, @dimplesandfierceeyes, @plantsarepeopletoo, @actually-yikes, @dribs-and-drabbles, @ablazenqueen, @alan-apologist, @ellasaru12, @queersouthasian, @lamonnaie, @rei-the-head-shaker and anybody else who wants to play😊

#tag game #15 people 15 questions

[trialbystory]

<X> people you would like to get to know better

Tagged by @powertaco (new post instead of reblog due to unwieldy length, original train available through this link)

Three Ships: Well, FrosenSteel/Nuts & Dolts, since I've got that whole Spirit of Competition fic going, obviously.

Wenclair is still going strong for me all these months after I watched Wednesday, mostly because it gives me such strong Griddlehark vibes (it's not a twofer if I only do a picture for Wenclair, right?)

Sylvaina is a pretty evergreen ship for me at this point.

First-Ever Ship: Briar Moss and Tris Chandler from Tamora Pierce's comparatively lesser-known (but better, imo) Emelan books. I've liked these two together ever since my second read through of Circle of Magic, and I doubled down on that when Will of The Empress came out. It's a niche fandom, especially these days, but I revisit these books once every year or two and everytime I do I dream up a plot of Briar being brought in as a lecturer at Lightsbridge after Tris enrolls there and romance ensues. And since I'm actually writing fanfic these days, maybe I'll make it happen at some point...

(source)

Last Song: I have eclectic tastes and just set up the music player on my new phone, so it could be literally anything. But it was actually Grim Grinning Ghosts. Specifically the version by Voiceplay.

Last Movie: I don't actually watch movies super often, so it's been a second. But it was either the 2008 live-action Speed Racer or School of Rock. Unless it was my bootleg of Beetlejuice the Musical. (If the person who made 'BugDrink' is reading this. You're one of my favorite people)

Currently Reading: I'll give 3 answers; on a03 the current tab in my queue is the latest chapter of a Wenclair fic by @boojangs called To Dance With Wolves I'm also still working through Elantris by Brandon Sanderson, and when I go on walks I've been listening to the Locked Tomb audiobooks in the possibly vain hope that the last book is still coming out this year. I'm just coming to the end of Harrowhark The Ninth (I'm not really an audiobooks kind of guy, but the narrator for the TLT ones is PHENOMENAL)

Currently Watching: Season 2 of Heels, about to start Season 2 of Wheel of Time, and also about to start my semi-regular re-watch of Leverage and Leverage: Redemption Currently Consuming: Orange soda from a local-ish beverage company.

Currently Craving: When I was hanging out with friends a few weeks ago I ate at our town's crepe shop for the first time and I've been dying to go back since. Crepe topped with strawberries & lemon juice plus one of the best Mochas I've ever had.

Tagging, if they are ammenable: @misterdadguy, @infinitefern, @probably-riley, and literally anyone else who wants to do these modern-day chain letters.

#about me #i guess? #kind of an ask too #speaking of which my askbox is open if you for somereason are curious about things about me or the nonsense i talk about #Youtube

[warmaidensrevenge]

To stay or change?

Pairings: Eddie Munson x sickly!plus size reader

If you want to read my other work you can find it HERE

A/N: Hey babes. This is just a one shot that came to me last week. It's a bit rough so forgive me if it's not the best. Idk if it's even worth the read but I liked it. Just a heads up I used 3 songs from some of my favorite artists. Will list them below. Anywho, feedback is greatly appreciated and asks/comments are always welcomed. Kay love ya bye.

Word count : 13,562

I do not give permission for anyone to use or publish anywhere else. Please respect all creators.

Warnings: 18+ secret pinning, mentions of oral, cheating, arguing, sickly reader and death. Not proof read.

Summary: true love that shouldn't be. Friendship ruined and an afterlife.

🥺💚

Eddie had been living in New York for about 4 years. Working as a bartender/ bouncer. He loved his job. He was always a night owl. So this was the perfect place for him. Especially since he and his buds could perform on Friday nights. Eddie and the band had a small following that grew bigger every Friday. He still had the dream the band would make it. And he wouldn't stop until they did. That's why this July evening he was pissed. The club manager had booked a band called Ready Aim Run. Eddie had heard them before and they were good. But he didn't understand why they were playing at a club. They made it. They were famous. Why the hell would they come back here? Why not give other bands a chance to make it too?

Gareth, Jeff and Grant wanted to see the band. Eddie on the other hand was already annoyed with the idea of that band taking their spot. Now his friends wanted to see them. He rolled his eyes and followed his buds inside the club and went to find a spot close to the stage. Eddie ordered a drink right off the back and figured if he had to sit through this, then he was gonna be drunk. The show was about to start and Eddie had never seen the club this busy before. Bodies upon bodies were packed into the decent size place. That was what he wanted. To be known and to have this many people come to their shows. He sighed and pounded a rum and coke before asking for another. That's when the lights went out and he heard the lead guitarist start off strong. She was hot. Short blonde hair. Body covered in leather and studs. As Eddie sipped on his second drink his eyes followed her fingers. Then the drums came in. He couldn't see who was playing but he thought whoever it was that they were good. The other band members joined in and then sang. 

Who's singing?

🎵

Is this better

Tell me there's a better way

I'm not afraid

I'm not gonna hide from the vultures above, serpents below

They wanna lay me to rest, but I won't go

Yeah

Is it better to die than live another day

I'm not afraid

I'm not gonna run from the scars and within, burning your skin

They wanna lay me to rest, but I won't go

Yeah

I won't go

I wanna stand up, a hundred feet tall

'Cause fear will never lead the way

I'm ready to run, a hundred miles strong

I will never be the same

Waking the lions in me

I'm waking the lions in me

Waking the lions in me

Waking the lions in me."

🎵

Eddie tried to min over to see who was singing but he couldn't. Then the hot girl moved and he saw. The plus size girl on the drums with long straight hair was singing her heart out. He watched as you and the hot girl sang the chorus together. After it was over the hot girl moved, blocking his view of you again. And this girl was looking right at him. He licked his lips and smirked when she gave him a wink. Eddie continued to be amazed how good the band was. More specifically how good you were. It was hard enough to play the drums but to be the lead singer too. It was insane. Eddie played the guitar and sang. And that was hard to do standing still. But playing the drums, your arms flailing about. 3 out of 4 of your extremities were constantly moving. It must have been a battle. But he couldn't tell. Your voice never faltered. 

" Hey I know that girl." 

Eddie looked at Grant. " Which one?"

" The one on the drums. She went to school with us."

Eddie looked back to the stage. He tried to move to see you again. Being pushed back by head banging fans. Out of nowhere Gareth came and pushed through. It was like the closer they got the more you were hidden. But then the hot girl moved and both Eddie and Gareth saw you. Eddie didn't recognize you but Gareth did.

" Oh shit! That's Y/n L/n. We did go to school with her."

Eddie looked at his friend and shook his head. He honestly didn't remember you.

" Dude don't you remember? Jason Carver pants her during the homecoming parade." Eddie looked back and made eye contact with you. It only lasted for a second. But it clicked for him. He could never forget your eyes. Big and beautiful. With just a hint of sadness behind them. Only back then they were red and puffy from crying. He remembered that you were in the marching band all through junior high and high school. You were a year behind him but you graduated before he did. You were always so chill. One of the only girls in Hawkins who was actually nice to him. As the song finished up the intro to the next one started off with a growl. Eddie's eyes widened when he saw you. 

Holy shit!

He and Gareth started head banging. Then as the song was almost over Eddie felt goosebumps all over. He watched you in complete aww. It was like he felt every single word you sang.

🎵

"Can you feel the pain

Of those you've betrayed?

The promises unmade

Broken hearts that fill with shame

And you're to blame

Do they call your name?

There's nothing left to say

Nothing left to say

This innocent blood is on your hands

Deceive me

Come face to face with the final stand

Release me

It's the part of me you can't comprehend

Unleash me

You've unleashed the wild within"

🎵

Jesus Christ!

When the song was over you got up and switched with the hot girl for the next song.

Shit! You play the guitar too?

For a split second before you started to play you looked at him again. Eddie felt a ping in his heart. 

🎵

Do I make you nervous?

Do I make you scared?

Do I make you wanna just stop and stare?

Weird, bizarre, unusual

Sicker than sick, atypical

A perfect picture of your fucking worst nightmare

Do I make you frightened?

Do I make you fear for your life?

When you're so certain, I'll infect you when I'm near

Obscene, twisted, unnatural

Off the wall, unacceptable

I'm bulletproof to what you think

So you can damn me straight to hell

You can crucify my name

You can throw me to the wolves

You can burn me in the flame

And say, "She's such a strange girl"

Such a strange girl

The world needs strange girls

Just like me."

🎵

As the set went on you didn't go back to the drums. Eddie felt something. He wasn't sure what it was. But he definitely felt something. After the show he and Gareth were approached by the band's assistant and were asked if they wanted to go backstage. When they walked into the room Eddie immediately locked eyes with the lead guitarist. She approached him.

" Hi handsome. How did you like the show?"

Eddie grinned. " It was fucking epic. You guys are something else."

She giggled and grabbed his bicep.

" Why thank you gorgeous. I'm Delilah."

Eddie held out his hand. " Hi. I'm Eddie."

" Mmm it's nice to meet you. Umm do you want a drink?"

Eddie looked around the room and noticed you weren't there. " I uhh yeah sure. But can I use the bathroom first?"

Delilah giggles again. " Of course."

Eddie nodded and started off.

" Don't take too long handsome. I want to play."

He gave her a smirk. " Don't worry. We can play as soon as I get back." He gave her a wink and went.

When he walked out he looked down the hall and saw you rolling the big storage boxes outside. When he saw you struggle a little bit putting it into the van he went to help.

" Hey, let me give you a hand."

You gave him a little smile. " Uhh thanks."

Eddie lifted the case in and started to help put the others in. 

" Don't you guys have a guy for this?" He asked.

" Umm normally we do. But uhh his kid got sick, so I sent him home."

Eddie nodded. Once everything was in he stood there watching you checking off boxes on a clipboard.

" Thanks for your help. " You said not looking up from the clipboard.

" You're welcome y/n."

He saw you smile.

" Wow. You remember me huh?"

He chuckled. " Couldn't forget a pretty girl like you."

You scoffed. " Eddie Munson." You shook your head. " Always so charming."

He smiled. " You remember me too?"

You finally looked at him. " How could I forget a mop like that? I even remember when you grew it out. Glad to see you still can rock a mane."

Eddie felt heat rush to his cheeks. " Thanks. So uhh how's life in the limelight?"

You looked away and closed the van doors.

" It's been." You sighed. " Nuts. But the good kind."

He nodded.

" What about you guys? Did the band ever take off?"

Eddie looked at the ground and frowned. " Uhh, I'm still working on it."

There was a couple of seconds of silence when he felt your hand on his shoulder. He met your big beautiful eyes.

" Don't worry Munson. If you guys are still as good as I remember. It will definitely happen."

You dropped your hand and he felt the need to grab it.

" I uhh would love to stay and catch up, but I kinda have to do something."

" Not gonna stay and have a drink with me?"

" Yeah no. Sorry. But uhhh tell the guys I said hi."

" Sure."

He watched you walk to a car. 

" Hey Munson."

He smiled at you.

" Have fun with Delilah. She seems into you."

He nodded and stayed to see you drive away. For a moment there he forgot all about Delilah. For a second he wanted to spend some time with you.

…

Eddie was holding up the very drunk Delilah as he fumbled around with her keys. When he finally got the door open to the loft he helped her in.

Out of nowhere you turned on a light, holding a bat. 

" Jesus H Christ! Munson you scared the shit out of me!"

" Woah woah woah. Don't swing."

You put down the bat and went to help him.

" Common, let's lay her down." You said getting on the other side of her.

After you guys got Delilah into bed you turned her to her side and brought a pot for her. 

Eddie followed you back out into the living room. 

" You want some tea?" You asked

" Uhhh tea sounds good. But don't you want to go to bed?"

You shook your head and started boiling water.

" I don't sleep much. Can't really."

Eddie sat at the counter. 

" Oh. Me too. I'm usually up all night."

" Same."

" So uhhh Delilah went overboard huh?"

He started drumming his finger on his thigh. " A little. "

" Yeah. She gets carried away sometimes after a show….thanks for bringing her home. Most guys just get what they want and leave her to call me to come get her."

"It wasn't a big deal. I just wanted to make sure she got home safe."

You smiled at him.

" Good ol' Eddie. Always coming to the rescue."

He laughed.a little watching you poured hot water in 2 mugs and seeped 2 tea bags before giving him one. You walked around the counter and headed for the couch. With Eddie following in suit.

You blew on your tea. The way your lips pressed while you did that gave him a chill up his spine.

" Remember when that dick Carver pulled down my pants? You had taken off your vest and jacket and both you and Gareth covered me while I fixed myself."

" Yeah….I'm sorry that happened. Jason was always a dick."

You let out a small laugh. " You can say that again."

" Jason Carver is a dick."

You laughed a little louder this time. Making Eddie grin.

" Well hey at least we never have to see him again. Dude, I was so happy to get the hell out of Hawkins."

" Right?!" Eddie agreed. Making you laugh again.

" Hey, did you graduate after all?"

Eddie sighed and nodded. Taking a sip of his tea before placing the mug on the coffee table.

" I did. Uhh the year after you did."

" Haha let's gooo. Up top."

Eddie chuckled as he gave you a high five. 

" Yeah I had to get the hell out of there too."

" And look at you now. In the big apple, working on becoming a famous musician."

He laughed again. " I can say the same thing about you. Except you made it."

You shrugged. " Ehhh. Almost. Working on a new deal right now."

" Really? That's cool."

You smiled at your cup. " Yeah…. So speaking of making it. If one would want to see you and the guys play. Where would one find you?"

Eddie looked away from you. Before he was pissed that you took their spot. But now that he knew it was you he was actually happy that you did.

" Uhh we usually play at the club on Fridays."

When you gasped Eddie looked back at you. 

"M-Munson, I'm-I'm so sorry. If I would have known I would have never asked to play tonight."

He shook his head. "No, don't worry about it."

"No, that wasn't cool. It's just that's where we were discovered. And I thought-"

" It's fine pretty girl. I'm actually happy you did."

" You are?"

He grinned at you. " Yeah. I got a chance to talk to you."

Your gaze went back to your mug. Eddie smiled to himself when he saw you blush. 

" So uhhh this might be random but do you have a boyfriend pretty girl?"

Eddie furrowed his brow when you started to laugh.

"Oh please. I don't have time for one. With everything going on with the band and with me. I just don't see the point."

" What do you mean 'with you'?"

You shifted a little and you looked a little uncomfortable at his question.

" I-i ummm I have CKD."

Eddie tilted his head when you looked at him again.

" It's Chronic Kidney Disease. That means I have to get dialysis. That's why I couldn't stay tonight. I had to go get my hours in."

" Hours?"

You sighed. " Yeah. I have to do it for 4 hours, 3 times a week."

" Geez! That's insane."

You gave him a thin lip smile. " Yup. So doing that plus being in a band kinda gives me no time to be with anyone…not like I want to."

"Why not?"

You laughed a little. " Well no one wants to stick around, worried about if I'm gonna die today or tomorrow. Besides the only guys who say they're interested in me. Normally just say they are to get to Delilah."

Eddie sat up straight and turned his body towards you. 

"Wait! What? It's not curable?"

And what the hell is wrong with those jerks? You're just as pretty. He thought.

You mimic his actions.

" So basically, my kidneys are gonna go. My only hope is that I get a transplant. But I'm at the bottom of the list."

" You can have mine."

You laughed and shook your head. " Thanks. But you're gonna need those."

Eddie smiled. He liked hearing you laugh. 

" So how long do you have?"

You leaned back on the arm rest and sat cross legged. You looked back down at your mug rubbing the rim with your thumb.

" Who knows. The doctors say on dialysis it can be anywhere from 5 to 10 years." You took a sharp inhale. " And I'm going on 5 now."

Eddie reached over and put his hand on your knee. You smiled again and he felt the ping again.

" Everything is going to be fine, pretty girl. You'll get your kidneys."

You cleared your throat and moved to put your cup next to his on the coffee table. Causing him to retract his hand.

" Enough with the morbid stuff Munson. So tell me." You looked at him with those pretty eyes of yours. " Do you still play Dungeons and Dragons?"

He tugged at his bottom lip to stop the huge smile he would have on. 

You remembered that too.

You guys talked and talked. Eddie was surprised how easy it was to have a conversation with you. The few hours he had with Delilah all they did was drink and make out. With her playing her guitar sometimes when she got bored. Then she would take a shot and make out with him again. This however was nice. He liked how funny you were. Your smile was beautiful and your laugh was adorable. He secretly wanted to spend the night with you instead of Delilah. Sure she was sexy as hell and a good kisser. But it was like she was empty headed or something. Other than liking metal music and being in a band, they had nothing in common. You however, knew him. Or of him. Knew his likes and dislikes. Knew about all the shit he went through. And he liked that. He liked not having to explain all that to people. He definitely liked that you didn't bring it up either. As the conversation flowed like a river it was suddenly interrupted by Delilah. 

" God you guys are still up?!" She said sitting on the armrest next to Eddie.

" Feeling better bud?" You asked. 

Eddie turned his body back towards the coffee table and Delilah slid into his lap. Wrapping her arms around his neck.

" Oh yeah. Much better." She said, kissing his cheek.

He honestly felt uncomfortable. He felt like he was being rude. 

" Thank you guys for taking care of me. Especially you handsome."

Eddie nervously laughed. " Uhh it was-"

He was cut off by a kiss. He barely kissed back before Delilah started kissing his jaw down to his neck. He looked over to where you were but you weren't there. He cranked his neck and caught your eye before you disappeared down the hall. There was that sadness again. It was quick but he saw it. And he didn't know if it was because the conversation was interrupted or that he hurt your feelings. Either way he felt bad. Next thing he knew, he was in Delilah's room getting a decent blowjob. He knew it was wrong because he and Delilah were hooking up. But all he could do was picture your lips kissing him. That it was your eyes looking at him while you were blowing him. 

Shit this isn't good.

… 

When you saw Eddie you instantly felt all those feelings you once felt for him come back. They hit you like a truck. For as long as you could remember you've had it bad for the guy. But you had convinced yourself it was just a silly crush. Then when he and Gareth helped you that one time, you knew what you felt for Eddie was more than a crush. He didn't even have a second thought before he was right there. Telling you that everything was okay. Time went on and you never said a word about it. Not that you didn't want to. It just never seemed right. And after graduation you honestly thought you would never see him again. So what were the chances you would see him? In New York. At the very place you got your big break. Unfortunately for you, you saw Delilah giving him the fuck me eyes. And you knew once your best friend set her sights on someone. They were gonna come home with her.  So yet again another chance gone. Imagine your surprise when you got a few minutes with him before you left the club. Not only did he remember you, he called you pretty. He gave you butterflies. He always did. Even if he never paid you no mind. Then the thought of Delilah inviting him backstage made its way to the front of your mind. Of course. She got to him first. Then he showed up to your place and was being the perfect gentleman. Only reminding you of what an amazing guy he was. Reminding you of who he always was.  So sure you were jealous he came home with Delilah. You knew how she was. She would hook up with a guy once then move on to the next. And once she did that, why on god's green earth would Eddie want you after. He was going to be heartbroken and probably hate you. Or bug you to talk to Delilah until you had to completely ignore him. That was the inevitable conclusion. You didn't like it. But he picked her and not you. However you could have not been more wrong. After that night you saw Eddie more and more. Since you guys were finally home, the late night talks became sort of a habit when he came over after work. It was weird to say the least. It was like you were in the relationship too. But you didn't get the fun part. You got the 'get to know you better' part. The emotional part of it. Not that you would complain. Eddie was interesting. In every way. You remembered him being so theatrical in school. Somehow he became even more so. One day while Delilah worked on a modeling gig, he offered to give you company during a treatment. You were apprehensive at first, not wanting him to see you all hook up. But he insisted. When Eddie sat there watching the nurse hook you up, all he could think about was how badly he wished he could give you one of his kidneys. He caught that sadness in your eyes again. Would it be so wrong of him to hold you for the entire 4 hours? 

Yes. You have a girlfriend. 

To be honest the only reason he even started going out with Delilah, was so that he could spend time with you. It was wrong. He knew that. And he wanted things to be different. But he fucked up. Now he had to live with having feelings…real feelings for you but be with your best friend. Throughout the 4 hours he tried to distract you. Then you started to get sick. All he could do was rub your back when you started throwing up. After, you were so tired that he helped you into bed and sat with you while you slept. 

I really want to hold you, pretty girl.

Sometime while he sat there scrolling on his phone. He fell asleep. He heard his phone chime and when he opened his eyes he saw that you were snuggled up against him while he held you. 

Shit. 

This felt good. You in his arms felt way too good. Almost as if you were made to fit perfectly. Your soft warm body and the smell of your shampoo had him climbing the walls. He had to get out of there. He needed to rub one out before you woke up. He kissed the top of your head and slid out of bed. Quietly tiptoeing to the bathroom. He locked the door and decided to just shower. Once he got in he grabbed his length and slowly stroked himself. He sighed your name and let his head fall back. With water cascading down his chest he imagined your hands touching him. Caressing his arms and his chest. He pictured your lips on his neck. He bet that they would be the softest. He cupped his balls and rolled one between his thumb and index finger. Moaning softly as he pumped faster. 

Fuck y/n. I want you so bad.

He hung his head and put his hand on the shower wall as he fucked into his hand. 

Fuck fuck fuck. Y/n baby… fuck!

Eddie panted as his load shot out and coated your body scrubber. 

"Shit!" He half yelled, half whispered.

When he was done he washed off your scrubber and washed up. When he finally got out he went to Delilah's room and put on some clean clothes. Hearing some clattering in the kitchen. Once he was dressed he went to see what you were doing. 

" Hey. How you feelin' pretty girl?"

You looked up from the cutting board and smiled a sweet little smile.

" I'm okay. Always get a little tired after…nothing a power nap can't fix."

Eddie walked around the counter into the kitchen.

" Good. So what're we making?" He said, washing his hands.

" I'm in the mood for spaghetti. But, I have to warn you. I put veggies in it."

Eddie stood next to you as he dried his hands.

" Uhh like mushrooms?"

You nodded. " Yes that and carrots, celery, onion, garlic, and zucchini."

He gave you a sour face. " Who the hell eats spaghetti like that? What's wrong with just noodles, meat and sauce?"

You shifted a little and quickly glanced at him. He caught it again. That stupid fucking sadness. He wanted to tell you to stop it. Because it hurt his heart seeing it. He wanted to kiss it away. But he didn't.

" Well umm I do. When my dad left my mom she had a hard time making money. I ummm I had a small garden in our backyard that I started in like 6th grade. Remember when we had to sprout a bean in Mr Anderson's science class?"

Eddie nodded and watched you chop carrots. 

" Well that's when I had the idea to start growing stuff. It started with super easy stuff like tomatoes and peppers. Then when I knew what I was doing, I started growing all this stuff." You pointed at the bags of veggies. " Uhh can you put water in the pot and start boiling it please?"

" Sure I'm here to help."

" Thanks"

" No problem, pretty girl. Okay so go on."

You nodded. " Okay so my mom could only afford the noodles. Meat was a luxury." 

Eddie looked over his shoulder and saw your body tense. Like you didn't want to say that. 

" But I digress. So one day I just put all of my harvest into one pot. Made my own sauce and added noodles… let me tell you Munson. We ate like royalty that night."

" So you still eat it like that?" He turned on the stove and put the water on. Adding salt and olive oil to the water. 

"I do. It's nostalgic, you know. Honestly. It's really good. And I put meat in it now."

" Hmmm. I don't know…." 

You laughed playfully pushing him. " Want to brown the meat for me?"

Eddie smiled. " Sure can."

You guys talked a little more. Eddie admitted that he didn't have a lot of money growing up too. That's why he sold drugs in highschool. He had just started talking about his uncle working overtime at the plant, when Delilah walked in.

" Ugh I'm so tired." She said throwing herself on the couch."

You looked at Eddie when she didn't greet him. A little annoyed you rolled your eyes 

" Hi Delilah. Oh hi Eddie. Missed you today." You said sarcastically.

Eddie looked at you and you were narrowing your eyes at her. 

" Right." Delilah got up and went to him. " I'm sorry babe. How was your day?"

He glanced over to you but you didn't look away from your chopping. " It uhh was good. Took the best nap."

He heard the chopping stop for a second before Delilah claimed his lips.

" Mmmm a nap sounds nice…common babe. Come rub my feet."

" Uhhh. But I'm helping with dinner. Can I do it later?"

Delilah pouted. " Please babe. My feet really hurt."

Eddie then felt your soft hand in his taking the spoon away from him. 

" Go ahead, I got this." You said just above a whisper.

" See babe she's got it. Let's go." 

Delilah grabbed his hand and started pulling him.

" Are you sure pretty girl?"

Still not looking at him you flicked your wrist and went on to brown the meat. As soon as you heard the door close you let out a deep sigh. You knew what Delilah meant when she asked for foot rub. It was code for sex. Oral sex that is. Your heart hurts knowing that. Not wanting to hear them you went and grabbed your earphones and opened up Spotify. Playing the album Eddie sent to you of his band. While you worked on dinner you allowed yourself to shed a few tears. Crying for your past and for a relationship that would never be. Why did it hurt so much seeing them together? Out of all the guys Delilah could be "dated" why did she have to pick him? And why were you so damn jealous of her? Once everything was done you made 3 plates. One for each of you. But Eddie's was different. You ended up putting aside some meat so that you could make his plate the way he liked it. After you grabbed your food and drink. Heading to your room. Eddie thought he would be used to Delilah by now. But every time he was with her it felt awkward. She was outrageously loud and she tasted weird. Not bad or anything. Just different. It was a little hard for him to get…well hard. Until he thought about you. Then he was good to go. Still knowing it put him in the asshole category. He just couldn't do it now without thinking about you. When Delilah fell asleep he went out to the kitchen to see if you were still cooking. But everything was cleaned up and he saw a posted note on one of the foil covered plates. 

" The Munson special."

He grinned, pulling back the foil. 

You didn't have to do that pretty girl. I would have eaten your way.

Eddie then heard you laugh. He grabbed his plate and went to see what you were laughing about.

" Hey. Can I eat with you?" He asked after you said the door was open.

" Umm yeah. I'm just watching That 70's Show."

He sat next to you and smiled. " Oh man, I love that show."

You smiled back. " Me too."

Eddie laughed. " Kelso is such a dumb ass."

" Yeah but man is he funny. I love how dramatic he says 'Burn!'."

" Right. So funny."

You returned your attention to the screen and noticed Eddie wasn't eating out the corner of your eye. You paused the show.

" What's wrong? Did I add too much salt?"

He looked at your plate then to you. " Uhh no.  I wanted to try yours."

" Oh- okay. I thought you didn't like veggies."

" I don't. But you didn't have to go out of your way to make me my own. I would have just picked them out."

" Honestly, it wasn't a problem. But you really should try it my way. I promise it's good."

Eddie sat up straight and sucked the pasta sauce off his fork and was about to grab some of yours.

" Ewww. " You said moving your plate away. " Don't spread your germies over here."

Eddie chuckled. So damn cute pretty girl 

"Here I'll pour a little on your plate." 

You did so and Eddie grinned at you. 

" Here goes nothing." He said before bringing his fork to his mouth.

You were staring at him and frowned when he made a face.

You looked away and started to pick at your plate. Eddie nudged you.

" Holy crap….okay we're switching."

You looked up and he gave you the biggest smile he could. "Man, that's really good. Common give it here."

He reached for your plate but you pulled away again. 

" Oh no way. This is mine. You eat yours." You giggled.

Eddie gave you a pout and sat back" Aww common pretty girl. Sharing is caring." 

" Damn Munson." You grinned. "Do you know how hard it is to say no with those pretty brown eyes of yours staring at me like that?"

He then stuck out his bottom lip. 

" Ugh! No Munson. We're not switching….but give me your plate."

Eddie watched you mix his and your pastas together then put his plate on the bedside table.

" What about germies?" He grinned

" Ehhh it's whatever. If I die. Welp, it's okay. I'm ready to go home."

" Shut up."

" Geez I'm joking… let's eat before it gets cold."

Eddie nodded. He saw you lift the fork to your mouth while you played the show again. That's when he saw a band aid wrapped around your index finger.

"Hey what happened?" He pointed at your finger 

"Oh…I'm clumsy. Cut my finger chopping onions."

" Is it bad?"

You shook your head lifting your finger so you could eye it.

"Oh yes Munson. I died. I saw my guts and I died of shock."

" Ahhh noooooo. You can't die. " He chuckled, grabbing your hand. " I won't let you die"

He then gave your finger a kiss. 

" There pretty girl. I saved you."

You giggled. " Gee thanks Munson. I feel much better now."

" Yup." He sighed. " Kisses make everything better."

He let go of your hand and you started picking at the plate again. " I wonder if they work for broken kidneys."

Eddie's smile faded. He wished they could. 

"Let's find out." He said getting to his knees and taking the plate off your lap. 

" W-what?"

He then pulled off the blanket and got between your legs.

" Uhhh Munson?"

He clapped his hands, rubbing them together and smiled. " Don't worry. This will only hurt a little bit."

He lifted your shirt a little. And placed two small kisses on either side of your plush belly.

He then pulled your shirt back and patted your tummy.

" Better?"

You pressed your lips together to keep from laughing your butt off.

" What is it? Did it work?"

Small laughs escape as you covered your mouth. Eddie tilted his head and crossed his arms.

" I'm sorry. But umm… I think you kissed my pancreas and gallbladder."

He leaned his ass on his heels. " Shit. Where are they?"

You turned a little and pointed.

" Hmmm okay. Turn around and face the wall."

" Munson. It's fine. I was just joking."

" Hush. And turn please."

You gave him a look and he just shook his head, twirling a ringed finger.

After a second you gave in and turned.

This time when he kissed you. He ran his thumb over the spot first.

" Here?"

You looked over your shoulder and nodded. 

Eddie moved to lay on his side, lifting your shirt a little. 

Mmmm so warm.

His dick twitched in his sweats as his lips softly pressed a kiss on one side. He then dragged his lips over your lower back. He smiled when you jerked a little. While he kissed the other side your mouth parted and your eyes rolled back. His lips lingered there for a second then he gave you another kiss. This time his hand grabbed your hip. 

" Babe?"

He quickly sat up and you pulled your shirt down hearing Delilah call for him. You turned around cursing yourself for letting him do that.

" There you are. Scoot over." She said coming into the room with her plate.

You moved over expecting her to sit between you two but she pushed Eddie over so that she could get in on the other side.

" Ohhh I love that 70's show. Jackie is my favorite."

You and Eddie were quiet. No longer hungry you gave Eddie the plate of food and sat there feeling like a complete jerk. He elbowed your arm and offered up the food and you held your hand up shaking your head. Eddie felt like shit. He shouldn't have done that. Now it was nearly impossible to not want to touch you. To hold you and kiss you. He didn't even watch the show anymore. He kept sneaking glances at you to see if you were okay. Then Delilah tugged at his arm so he could put it around her shoulders as she snuggled closer to him. After she did that Eddie watched you get up and take the empty plates away. Delilah was there laughing and kissing his neck. Everything about her annoyed him. The way she slobbered while kissing him like that. Hated her laugh and how her boney body felt against him. Before he thought she was a good kisser up until he wished it was you who was kissing him. He started to knit pick all the things he didn't like about her. He had to be honest with himself. He wasn't into Delilah the way he was into you. The conversations you guys had. All the laughs and emotional moments shared. It was clear to Eddie how he felt for you. And a part of him felt like it was mutual. Why else would you let him that close? Why would you let him come to your appointment, when you liked to do that alone?  Why would you open up to him about your past? There had to be something there. He needed it to be. Because…he was falling in love with you.

When you went to the kitchen you rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. You sunk to the ground and leaned against the cabinets.

You are the fucking worst! She's your best friend.

While hanging your head you wiped your tears away. You could make up an excuse to explain why you let Eddie do that. You could claim it was an innocent kiss…or kisses. But to you, it was more than that. And the way he lingered there, giving you another kiss. It made you feel good. In your heart and between your legs. The whole day you've been fighting your feelings. Going round after round. Just barely winning. Until he kissed your finger. His beautiful full lips pressing a tender kiss on it made you want to grab his face and kiss the shit out of him. To finally tell him that you wanted him to be with you. But you couldn't. No matter how you felt for him. You had to bury it deep down and never let it see the light of day. You sniffled and heard footsteps down the hall. You quickly cleaned your face.

" Hey. What are you doing down there?" 

You glanced at him and looked back down.

" Uhh sorry. Was feeling a little dizzy." You lied.

Eddie sat next to you. " Then why are you crying?"

" I'm not crying."

He stood quiet. He saw what you looked like when you cried. And he couldn't stand it. But he wasn't going to push you to tell him what's wrong.

" I'm sorry. I-"  you sighed. " I umm I don't know what's wrong with me…it's like I hate that I'm sick. I hate that no one wants me because of it. That or because I'm big."

I want you pretty girl.

Eddie shook his head. " Sweetheart you're beautiful. And as for being sick. It's not that people don't want to be with you because of it. It's because you haven't found the right person who isn't scared."

Like me.

" Is it so wrong of me to want to feel like I want someone to care? To want someone to hold my hand when I'm scared. To stroke my hair when I feel like shit and tell me everything's gonna be okay. To be here for all the bad stuff as well as the good. I'm just…I'm just tired of feeling…alone."

" You're not alone, pretty girl…I'm here. And there's nothing wrong in wanting that stuff. I can give you all that…if you let me."

You looked at him and furrowed your brow.

" Munson, you don't know what comes with me." You looked away. " It's too much for a friend to do."

There was this long pause as Eddie shifted his body to face you. He grabbed your hand and caressed your cheek. 

No. You better not. You say to yourself.

" Y/n….I…."

Shit! Don't. You can't. You silently pleaded.

Eddie sighed. He was just gonna put it out there and see what happens.

" I don't want-"

You pulled your hand away and stood up. 

" It's getting late. I ummm I have something to do in the morning."

Eddie's heart just broke. 

As you started for Delilah's room you looked back at him.

" You guys can sleep on my bed tonight. "

Eddie stood up. " But-"

" Goodnight Eddie."

Once you were gone, he felt sick. His body was shaking and he felt like he was gonna throw up. He didn't want to go to Delilah. He wanted to be with you. So instead, he told Delilah that he had to go. He didn't give her a hug or a kiss. He just left.

…

Waking up in the morning you thought that last night had to be some fucked up dream. That it was your brain acting a fool. Until you realized you weren't in your bed. You got up and went to your room and saw that Delilah was by herself.You got dressed in a hurry and left. Hoping you wouldn't catch Eddie on the way out. You weren't lying when you said you had something to do. Sure it was perfect timing. You couldn't let him say what you thought he was gonna say. Even though it's what you wanted since you saw him again. But that is betrayal in the highest order. Breaking girl code was not an option. It doesn't matter if you two were supposed to be together. Which was doubtful. 

He didn't choose me. You kept repeating to yourself as you went to the record label.

The plan was, this coming Friday you were gonna have an A&R rep. check out Corroded Coffin. And if things went well. The guys would get signed to a label. That was the hope. You wanted to help. To give the guys a chance. You just needed what happened last night to not get in the way.

Eddie spent the morning in his bed. Maybe what he felt for you wasn't the same as how you felt. Your words rang in his ears.

' It's too much for a friend to do.'

Friend?

Is that what you thought of him? Was that all he would ever be? Sure he was with Delilah. But he decided he didn't want her. He should have never been with her to begin with. As the day went on all he wanted to do was talk to you. He missed you in ways he couldn't explain. Ways he was supposed to feel about his girlfriend. He couldn't handle the feelings that filled him. It was sadness he never felt before. It was a heartache that felt like his heart was falling. He decided to write. As tears fell from his eyes he sniffled and whimpered. He never felt like this for anyone. Even if he were to end things with Delilah, you wouldn't be with him. He knew that your loyalty to your friend was something you would not betray. No matter what, you were a good girl. And for once in his life he wished he was someone else. That he could go back to that night 3 months ago and leave with you. 

What we could have been, would have made the universe jealous. 

…

It was late into the evening when he finally couldn't take it anymore. He had to talk to you. He pulled out his phone and struggled with a greeting.

" Hey pretty girl. Still have some spaghetti left?"

He sighed and pressed send.

His phone chirped just a few seconds later.

" Sure do. 🙃"

He smiled. So you weren't freaking out about yesterday. 

Good.

" Mmm. Have a hankering for the veggies. 😬"

" Liar. 🤥"

He laughed. " No lies precious. Not gonna let a guy starve are ya?"

He saw the little bubble pop up while you typed. But then it went away. He frowned for a second until the bubble came back up.

" Delilah isn't here." He read.

Sighing again he responded. " Oh…so I shouldn't come over and raid your fridge?"

" I mean. You can. I just don't want you to be bored or anything."

I could never be bored with you.

" How about I bring over my D&D stuff and you can help me write out a campaign?"

Please say yes. Please say yes. 

" Hmmm….depends."

Well… it wasn't a no.

" On?"

" If you show up with ice cream. 🤔"

He chuckled. " What kind do you want?"

" Don't judge??"

" If you say mint chocolate chip. I might have to rethink our friendship. 😖"

" 🥺🥺"

He grinned. " I'll be right over you psycho."

" Okay. See you soon. ☺️"

Eddie was so giddy. You made him feel like he was a teenager with a crush. But it was more than that wasn't it? 

When he got to your place you had already had plates warmed up and a notepad with pencil.

" Hey Munson." You greeted him at the door.

" Hey pretty girl. I got your abomination." He said holding up a grocery store bag.

You chuckled " Oh you're a saint Munson."

You took the bag and placed the ice cream in the freezer.

You guys sat and ate. Talking about the campaign. Eddie had never seen you so excited. The way your eyes lit up when you had an idea was everything. 

After a while you guys just sat there enjoying one another's company. You shifted a little and the look on your face worried him.

" You okay sweetheart."

" Mhmm." You winced trying to get into a comfortable position.

" What's wrong?" His voice and eyes filled with concern.

" Emmm it's nothing. Don't worry."

" Y/n?"

You looked at him and tried to smile. " It's okay. It just hurts sometimes."

" Do you have medicine for it?"

You nodded. " But I don't like taking it. Makes me all loopy."

" You should if you need it."

" Yeah. But I don't like it. And I can usually handle it."

Eddie nodded then had a thought. 

" Umm you know what can help with pain?"

" Hmm?" You said looking at your lap and tugging on your long sleeve.

" Some medical grade Mary Jane."

You looked up and scrunched your nose in a cute way, that he wanted to kiss it.

" I haven't smoked since high school."

Eddie then got up and grabbed his jacket. Pulling out a joint and a lighter. He then threw himself on the couch closer to you. 

" If you want. We can…. It will help." He said sheepishly.

" Ummm it's just weed right?"

He looked at you offended.

"Sweetheart, I would never give anyone a laced joint. That's not how I do things."

You gave him a questionable look.

" Tell you what. I'll smoke with you. I'll even take the first hit."

Eddie gave you a smile while you chewed on cheek.

" O-okay. But not too much."

Eddie got up and went to get a small dish for the ashes. When he sat back down he got even closer. He lit the end and put the lighter on the coffee table, leaning back into the couch. Legs spread wide that his knee was touching yours. Eddie felt your eyes on him as he leaned his head back and blew the smoke upwards. He then turned his head and smiled at you. You blushed and smiled too. He handed you the joint and you took a half hit before handing it back. Eddie took it and took one long drag before holding in the smoke and putting out the joint. He looked at you and lifted his hand and motioned you to come closer. You weren't even really thinking when you leaned forward. He grabbed your chin gently and you opened your mouth. He moved closer to you and stared at your gorgeous lips as he blew in the smoke. You sucked in his smoke and  leaned back out of his reach. Your breath was a little shaky as you blew out. He watched you and just smiled. You were honestly so pretty today.

" Can I uhhh ask you a question ?"

You leaned the side of your face on the back of the couch and nodded.

" If you could go back in time, to one day and relive a single moment. What would it be?"

You sat with your eyes closed, thinking. There were so many. But only one kept coming up.

" I think it would be the last good day I had with my mom."

Eddie looked at you and put a hand on your thigh.

" She was sick for a long time. And it was just before I moved here." You swallowed. " She was having a good day. One that came very rarely. I wanted to stay in Hawkins and take care of her. But she didn't want that account of me. She said ' baby girl, you need to live your life. You need to follow your dreams. And this place will only keep you from them. I'll be fine.' … That day I drove her out to Lovers Lake. We had a picnic and ate so many gummy bears I had gotten a stomach ache. But I didn't care. She was so happy that day. She was so full of life and she told me stories about her childhood and how she fell in love with my father."

You went quiet and Eddie moved as close as he could to you. Grabbing your legs and draping them over his thighs. He put an arm around your shoulders and let you rest your head on his shoulder.

" I uhh was on the road when I got the call. It was a year later…I hadn't seen her since I left. " Tears started to fall and you wiped them away quickly. " But yeah. I would like to relive that day. To tell her how much I loved her…I just want to talk to her again you know. To hear her laugh again."

Eddie held you a little tighter. 

" I hope I'm making her proud. Because everything I do…is for her."

He started rubbing his hand up and down your leg.

" She's proud pretty girl."

You sniffled and wiped your nose on your sleeve.

Clearing your throat you asked him the same question.

He felt your hand on his hip, slowly running your thumb over a small part of his tummy. 

Should I do this? After that?...Yeah, I have to. He thought.

" I uhh. I would have to say the night I saw you again."

You lifted your head and looked at him. Feeling a little fuzzy from the weed. 

Eddie met your eyes and wanted so badly to kiss you.

" Why do you want to relive that night? Did you have such a good time listening to my awesome songs?" 

Eddie chuckled. "Truthfully, I was pissed."

You furrowed your eyebrows. " What? Why?"

" Because you guys took our spot."

" Aww… I said-"

" But then I saw you. Well heard first then saw you."

You looked back and forth between his eyes.

" And?"

" I…I was thinking how great you were."

You smiled. " Thanks."

Eddie cleared his throat. " So the reason I want to relive that night was because I want to change it."

" W-what would you change?"

He paused for a moment. He had to do this.

" I would have asked to go with you."

You licked your lips and looked away.

" Why?"

He cupped your face making you look back at him.

" Because things would be different for us…I would be with you."

Eddie heard you suck in a breath and hold it. He started to feel the effects of the weed but tried not to let it cloud his judgment. He started to lean in. Going for a kiss but you put a hand on his chest and pushed him away. After you got up and went to put the dishes in the sink. 

" Y/n i-"

" No Eddie. This isn't okay."

He got up and went to you.

" Y/n please. I know you feel something for me too."

You took a step back and shook your head.

" This is a line that I won't cross. It doesn't matter if I have feelings for you or not."

Eddie took a step towards you. " I get that. I do. But I can't just sit here and ignore the fact that you're the one I want."

You shook your head again. " I don't want to hear that."

" Well you're gonna hear it." He said closing the distance. " Look, this is already hard for me. Being around you. Getting to know you. Seeing how incredible you are. You're beautiful and kind. You're talented and so damn funny. You're such an amazingly strong woman. Who has a great head on your shoulders. You and I have this connection…I felt it when you first locked eyes with me. Then I felt it again the second time. And I still feel it every time I see you."

He grabbed your hand and put it over his heart. 

" I felt it here…you hear me, sweetheart …you see me. You're interested in my life. You care about what I have to say. Even if it's some of the dumbest shit you've heard…I know this isn't the ideal situation and this is not how I wanted to do this. But you're the person I can't stop thinking about. You're the person I can't go a day without talking to. You're the person I can see a future with."

You shook your head and pulled away. Going back to the sink to wash dishes. You need to keep your hands busy. Give you a minute to go through what he just said. And the weed did not help you think clearly.

Eddie wanted to pull you away and just hug you. But instead he walked around the counter and sat down. Studying you. Trying to memorize how you acted when you were overwhelmed. 

" Y/n…I know this sounds bad considering the situation. But I want to be there for you. I want to be the one who holds your hand when things get tough. I want to be the one to hold your hair for you when you get sick…this is not just a friendship to me. You know more about me than my own girlfriend."

" That's just it Eddie. Your girlfriend." You shook your head. " You have a girlfriend."

His voice was defeated " I know. But I don't want her to be."

" Well she is. You made that choice. Now we both have to live with consequences."

Eddie was quiet again. He started drumming his fingers on his thigh. A habit you knew since high school meant he was nervous.

" What did you think would happen? Did you think you were gonna tell me this stuff and expect me to jump into your arms and tell you that I want you too?"

He bit his lip and looked away. " No….I just wanted to say how I feel."

" Well you said it. Now what? We go back to normal? For 3 months I have watched you kiss her. I've heard you two have sex. I've seen her hang on you and touch you…And did you ever think that maybe seeing that would hurt me? After all the talks, how close we got. Did you think that I might have feelings for you too? That I just let anyone get close. That seeing you and Delilah doing all the things we should be doing would break my heart?" You looked up from the sink at him. " Because let me tell you something. It did. More than you know…I have liked you for a long time. Way before you met Delilah. Before you helped me back in high school. I wanted you. But I can't have you. Even if you broke up with her. Even if she accepts us… Because of this…. How we acted towards each other. How could I ever trust you? I see what you do and say when you have a girlfriend. You would just treat me the same way. Once you get bored with the sex or whatever, you will find some other poor girl and break her heart too."

Eddie stood up and grabbed his jacket. " I'm not that guy. And it hurts that you think I would do anything like that…I wouldn't. Not to you. Did you hear anything I said? Not once did I mention sex…because that's not the only thing I want from you. With Delilah that's all it was. And it's not that I got bored with her. It's because she's not you. She doesn't look at me like you do. She doesn't care that she can go days without talking to me. To be honest I don't care either. Because I can't even go a few hours without talking to you…I know you think this isn't right. Shit I know it isn't. But I don't care because I'm in love with you. And I'm gonna be here for you if we're together or not. I'm gonna do everything I can to get you to see that I'm the guy for you. "

He went around the counter again and gave you a kiss on the side of your head. 

" Whatever I do from this point on is for you…goodnight pretty girl."

…

When Eddie left the first thing he did was call Delilah. But she didn't answer. He messaged her and asked for her to come over. However she never read the text. He was gonna do it. He was gonna tell her it was over. He was gonna be honest and tell her that he had feelings for you. But beg her not to be upset with you. It wasn't your fault. You cared about her and would never do anything to hurt her. So as he waited for her to get back to him, he went to work.

You didn't know what to do with yourself. Never did you think that he would actually say those things to you. You've wished for it and dreamt of it. But, this was not what you expected tonight. Tomorrow was going to be awkward. How were you gonna go to the club and sit there watching Eddie perform? Knowing that he loves you the way you love him. Still there was your best friend. She trusted you. And you being the shittiest friend, you stole her guy from right under her. Not that it was something you planned. But you should have never got close to him to begin with. 

As you tortured yourself for the rest of the night you finally went to bed. Tossing and turning. When you fell asleep, you were woken up by moaning. 

Tears filled your eyes as you got up. 

How could you have sex with her when you just-

All of a sudden you heard Delilah say a name that was most definitely not Eddie. You opened your door and silently as possible walked towards the living room. Peaking around the corner you saw Delilah on her hands and knees with this very muscular dirty blonde guy. He was taking her from behind. You covered your mouth and went back to your room. 

" What the fuck Delilah?!" You said to yourself. " What about Eddie?"

You looked at your phone and it was 1 in the morning.

Eddie should still be at work.

You opened your messages and texted him.

" Munson, have you talked to Delilah?"

Eddie looked at his phone immediately. Quickly texting you back.

" No. Haven't talked to her all day. But I plan on it when I get off. Is she home?"

Fuck! 

" No, not yet. I think she's doing an all nighter."

Eddie rolled his eyes. She has been doing that a lot lately.

" Okay. Well, will you please let me know when she comes? We need to have a talk."

You wanted to see him. You wanted to tell him what you just saw. But you couldn't. She was your friend and you couldn't snitch on her.

" Yeah I will."

Eddie got back to you a few minutes later.

" Sweetheart, I'm gonna make things right. I love you."

You didn't message him back. All you did was sit there and played music until you heard Delilah escort the guy out. You got up so fast you almost fell. You stood in the hallway and waited until she locked the door.

" SERIOUSLY DELILAH?! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!"

She jumped and turned around. " Holy shit! I didn't know you were home."

" Uhh yeah! Seriously who the fuck was that?!"

" O-oh umm haha he's just a guy I work with." She said moving to the couch.

" Delilah!"

" What?! He's hot. Of course I had to hit that."

" And Eddie?"

She rolled her eyes and scoffed. " Please. What about him? He's a loser."

Your eyes widened and you clenched your fist.

" If you thought that, why are you dating him?"

She shrugged. " I was bored and he was nice to me."

You could punch her. God you wanted to.

" You were bored?"

She looked at you and narrowed her eyes.

" Yes I was bored. And he's cute. But he's going nowhere and his band sucks."

You were breathing hard now. Trying to calm down enough to not knock her into the next life.

" They don't suck Delilah. Eddie is doing everything he can to make it."

She laughed. " Oh please. The guy's a bum. All he does is come to fuck me and talk about you…I actually think he has a crush on you…isn't that ridiculous? Like you would ever."

" He-he talks to you about me?"

She rolled her eyes again. " Yeah. He always asks if you're okay. Or whenever we do something together. He says to ask if you want to come. Honestly it's annoying."

You un-clench your fist and took a deep breath.

" Delilah…i-"

She smiled menacingly at you. " Did you fuck him?"

" What?! No!"

" But you want to?"

You shook your head. " No-"

" Don't lie." She said getting up, and getting in your face. " I see how you look at him. How you're always so close to him."

" N-no. That's not-"

She pushed you. " You're my friend. How could you like my boyfriend?"

You pushed her right back.

" I don't like Eddie…I love him! Always have. But I pushed how I felt for him away. So that you could be happy. But then you pull some shit like this! Calling him a loser.  How could you do that? If you don't want him, let someone else love him the way he deserves."

She took a step back. " You love him?"

"I… I'm sorry."

Delilah looked completely betrayed. " Well it doesn't matter because he's with me. He chose me not you. He came backstage for me and he was the one who asked me out." 

God you wanted to tell her what Eddie said to you. But it was true. He did all those things for her.

You swallowed. " You're right. He did pick you. So at least you could answer him back. He's been trying to talk to you all day. He doesn't deserve you ghosting him or cheating on him."

She scoffed." I'm gonna do what I want. He's my boyfriend. And as far as I know he still is. So back off! If you say anything to him. I'll leave the band."

You stood there watching her walk away. All you wanted to do was cry and see Eddie. When did your best friend get like this? She used to be so nice.

…

Eddie was cleaning the bar after the last call. He was stacking chairs when he heard the front door bell. 

" We're closed." He said rather loudly.

" I know. "

Eddie looked up and saw you standing there in your pajamas, robe and slippers 

" Hey. What's going on?" He asked, jogging the few feet to you. Cupping your face and checking you over. " Are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

You were sad. He could see that. 

" No. I'm okay. Well as okay as I can be."

" Sweetheart, it's late. What are you doing here? In your pajamas."

You looked down. " I…I needed to see you."

He nodded " Okay. Umm let me finish up and we can talk."

Eddie led you to the bar and pulled out a stool for you.

" Do you want some water or something to snack on?"

" Water sounds good."

He nodded again and grabbed you a glass. After he hurried to finish up.

" Okay pretty girl.  What's going on?"

" I need to ask you something."

 He grabbed your hand. " Anything. You can ask me anything."

You looked him in the eyes. " Why did you ask Delilah to be your girlfriend if you felt something for me?"

Eddie moved closer to you and put a hand on the small of your back.

" It's stupid. I know that. But it was the only way I could think of to spend time with you. "

" You should have just told me from the start. We're not kids. I don't play games. I don't have time for it. And my time means a lot to me, because I don't know how much I have. None of us do." You were quiet for a second before you continued. " I just told my best friend that I love you."

Eddie's heart started to race. He started getting nervous. But in a good way. 

" Y-you do?" He asked.

" I do. I'm in love with you too. But…"

He shook his head. " No. No buts. That's all I need to know."

"Munson i-"

" Sweetheart, I don't want to hear you say that we can't do this. That you won't because of Delilah. She's not your problem. She's mine. "

You looked at your glass of water. " Can I stay the night with you?"

He smiled a little" Y-yeah. Common."

The whole ride to his place was quiet. You didn't say anything. It was like you were trying to convince yourself of something.

Eddie opened the door to his apartment and led you to his room.

" The uhh guys are at their girlfriends places"

You nodded and looked around his room, while he cleaned up a bit. You saw pictures of his old friends from Hellfire and admired his collection of tapes and CDs. He had an array of VHS tapes that surprised you. 

Finally your eyes settled on his high school diploma. Just seeing it, you were so proud of him. 

" I'm sorry. I didn't think I would have anyone over." He said, grabbing the empty beer cans on the dresser.

You grabbed his arm gently.

" Munson stop. You don't need to do this."

" I-I'm just a little embarrassed."

" Don't be."

The look in your eye made him relax. He nodded and went to sit on the edge of the bed. You took a second before sitting with him. 

" I don't want to do anything tonight. I just want to be near you."

" That's more than fine. Even if you did, I couldn't. Not until I talk to Delilah."

You nodded, kicked off your slippers and crawled into his bed.

Eddie smiled seeing you all snuggled up with one of his pillows. He changed real fast and got in too. 

" Goodnight Munson. I…I love you."

He looked at the back of your head and leaned in to hug you.

" Goodnight pretty girl. I love you too."

…

The next day Eddie woke up with you in his arms. This was the first time in a very long time that he slept comfortably . Last night was a night of many firsts for him. It was the first time a girl said that she loved him. It was the first time he brought a girl back to his place and it was definitely new to sleep with one without actually sleeping with them. In all his 24 years of life he never thought this would happen. He was more than smitten. More than happy. It felt like he waited a lifetime for you. All he had to do now was deal with Delilah. He gave you a squeeze before getting out of bed and getting dressed. He took one last look at you before taking off.

When you woke up you were scared for a second. You looked at your phone and it was 2 in the afternoon. You closed your eyes and hugged Eddie's pillow. Breathing in his smoke and body wash. 

You moaned softly, burying your face.

Eddie chuckled seeing you like that. It was the damn cutest.

" Hey pretty girl."

You looked up with wide eyes. Like you were just caught doing something bad.

" Uhh h-hi…sorry… your bed is really comfy."

He smiled at you and liked seeing you in his bed. 

" I brought you some clothes."

He moved from the door and sat next to you. Handing your backpack over.

" You went to my place?" You asked, digging through the clothes. 

" I went to talk to Delilah."

You gulped and looked at him.

" She's pissed…thought you told me she cheated…you umm saw them?"

You looked at your pack and nodded.

Eddie put a hand in the middle of your back. " I'm sorry you had to see that sweetheart."

" Y-you're not mad?"

"At you or Delilah?"

" Both I guess."

" Mad at Delilah for being an asshole to you. Not mad at you. I know you couldn't tell me."

" I wanted to."

" I know. But she's still your friend."

" Y-yeah…umm how did you find out she cheated?"

Eddie laid down and held out his arms for you. You smiled a little at him and cuddled.

" She's been texting guys for a while. Sometimes when she comes from work she smells like guys cologne."

You furrowed your brow and looked up. 

" So you knew she was with other dudes and you still had sex with her?"

He sighed. " Well no. The last time we actually had sex was 3 ish weeks ago. It's just been oral lately."

Eddie felt your body tense up as your eyes focused somewhere else.

" I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

" It's…it's fine. So are you guys over?"

" Yeah."

You nodded and started caressing his side.

" Is she-"

" No. I told her it was my fault all of this happened. She seemed to believe me after she threw a water bottle at my head."

" She didn't."

" Well she threw a lot of stuff. But it was the bottle that got me."

" I'm sorry."

He hugged you tighter. " I would take a million water bottles to the head, for you."

Your soft giggle made his heart full.

" Always had a thing for the dramatics huh?"

He grinned. " Guess so."

You were quiet for a second before clearing your throat.

" Does she know I'm here?"

" Uhhh yeah…so she's a little pissed at that. So I figured I would grab a few days worth of clothes. Just in case."

" I can stay somewhere else."

"If you want to, you can. But sweetheart I'm gonna be honest with you…I would love it if you stayed with me."

Silence fell again. Before Eddie knew it he heard your soft snores. He smiled to himself.

Guess that's a yes.

…

The night started off good. You and Eddie went to the club. You looked more tired than usual but you were smiling and that's all he cared about. The band was on their third song when Eddie noticed a guy approaching the table where you were. Jealousy filled him seeing the guy give you a hug and a kiss on the cheek. You must have known him since he got that close so fast. It took Eddie weeks to get like that. Either way, he was upset. Well that was until he caught your eye. And for the first time since he's known you. You didn't have that hint of sadness there. What he saw was joy and love. Your big beautiful eyes sparkled and he was memorized. The smile had distracted him, making him miss a note.

You noticed the mistake and looked away with a pretty smile. Eddie wanted to jump off the stage and kiss you. But he couldn't. Instead he played his heart out for you. And at the end of the set he joined you. You introduced him to Mark. To his surprise you had done something for him that no one had ever done before. You got him and the band an opportunity to have their music heard. That night when you went back to his place he thanked you for what you did. And for coming to see them. You were tired as usual and fell asleep before him. 

He stared at you for what seemed like hours. He was happy for the shot. But he worried that maybe you would think that he was using you and your connections. Not wanting that, he decided to do something he had never done before. He was going to introduce you to his uncle. 2 weeks went by and you found yourself in Hawkins again. It's been so long that you nearly forgot your home. Everything was so perfect. Meeting Eddie's family and friends meant more to you than you could explain. For the first time a guy thought you were important enough to meet the people he loved. Things with the relationship you had with Eddie went very slow. But career wise everything went by so fast. Corroded Coffin joined the new tour, opening up for you guys. Delilah quickly moved on to a new guy. And acted like you and Eddie didn't exist. Only when it came to performing was when she acknowledged your existence. After the argument she moved out and Eddie basically moved in.

A few months later while on the road you got really sick and had to be hospitalized. Eddie was there every day. Things weren't looking so good for you and he thought he was going to lose you before you guys even had a chance to be together for real. With everything going on in your lives it was hard to have the relationship. Especially you being in constant pain. So the day you got back to semi-normal you guys were in Colorado springs. It was a beautiful day. A little chilly for the spring but in a gorgeous place Eddie had a plan. He took you to lunch and afterwards you guys went on a scenic tour. You guys stopped to take in the view of the mountains and just sat in the grass. You had your head on his shoulder looking out. 

" It's beautiful here. It's so calm and the air smells so good."

Eddie smiled looking out too. The slight breeze blowing his curls back. " You know I like living in New York, but something about this place seems like a good place to settle down and have kids."

You let out a small nose laugh. " If only."

He rested his cheek on your head. " If only what?" 

You sighed. " I don't know. If we weren't in a band. And touring-"

"Marry me?"

You pulled away a little and looked into his eyes.

"W-what?"

He pulled out a black velvet box from his pocket and opened it. Showing you a beautiful engagement ring.

" Sweetheart, we wasted so much time already. I don't want to go another minute without you being mine forever. I know this isn't some grand proposal but I love you. And you would make me the happiest man in the world if you would be my wife."

You took a minute to think. Though you were in love with him, this was rather fast. And he didn't know what he was getting into.

" Eddie, we haven't even kissed. Or had sex."

" I know. But I want to do this right. I want you to be my wife before that. I want you to see that I love you no matter what."

He saw your lip trembling and your eyes filled with tears. And when you looked away from him, his heart broke. Then you asked him to kiss you.

" I know what I feel in my heart. But I would like you to kiss me. And if it feels like I know it should, I'll marry you."

Eddie stood up and helped you to your feet. He cupped your face and looked deeply into your big beautiful eyes. Tucking your hair behind your ears before leaning in. Everything stopped, and it was quiet. It was like the world just froze. Everything melted away and it was as if it was only you and him. He was floating. He felt everything all at once. And saw a flash of many, many more of these kisses. When the kiss broke your foreheads met. 

Eddie whispered. " Marry me, pretty girl?"

…

Eddie had 7 wonderful years with you until you passed. You guys got married 3 months after the proposal and about 6 months later you were pregnant with your first son. Then a year later another beautiful boy. As he got older he never remarried or even saw anyone. He felt as if he found his soulmate and he would never find that again. His son's grew up and got married and had kids of their own. Eddie was content with his life and his children. But he missed you every second of every day. He didn't know if you would be waiting for him on the other side or not. But he hoped you would.

He was 79 years old now and he knew the end was coming. He could feel it. So he wanted to see you. He went to your grave and sat with you.

" Hey pretty girl." He smiled at your little picture on the stone. " I miss you sweetheart."

He then proceeded to tell you what the boys were up to and told you about how much the grand kids look like you. He sat there for a while and put a hand on your stone. 

" I'm coming, sweetheart. "

Later that night Eddie closed his eyes for the last time. When he opened them he saw you standing in the small field in Colorado. Your hair was blowing in the wind and you were looking out to the mountains. He ran to you and pulled you into his arms. You laughed and the sound of it brought tears to his eyes. It was so long since he heard it. He felt so terrible when he forgot it. 

" Please tell me this is real." He said before kissing the top of your head.

" It better be." You giggled.

He leaned back to finally get a good look at you. You stared up at him with big eyes that he loved so much. No hint of sadness in sight and a breathtaking smile. You were glowing. Like you were never sick. You looked…beautiful. The most beautiful he had ever seen you. And not a day older since he lost you.

You beamed at him. " Hi baby."

He smiled and wiped his eyes. Giving you a soft kiss. After a moment you guys held one another. 

" Is this heaven?" He asked. " It must be since you're here."

You laughed again making his smile bigger.

" This is whatever you want it to be… We can stay here. Or we can go back... Change things."

" Change things?" He said tucking your hair behind your ear.

" You once told me if you could go back and relive a single moment, you would go back to the night we saw each other again. You said you would change what you did…if you want we can go back and do it differently."

"Would….would you still…"

You nodded. " I was always going to go. That we can't change."

Eddie tried to figure out your expression. He didn't know what you wanted.

" You're not gonna help me make this choice are you?"

You smiled and then gave him a kiss.

" Baby, you already know what you're gonna pick. You don't need my help with it."

Eddie thought for a second. " If we stay here?"

" Then we live happily ever after, in the place we choose to be together forever."

You looked out to the mountains then down to your wedding rings.

" What about our boys?" He asked.

You cupped his face and kissed him again. 

" They will come when it's their time. And not a second earlier. Then they will make their choice."

He nodded." What was your choice, pretty girl?"

You moved his bangs to see his eyes better. " To wait for you. So the next step I take is with you."

Eddie met your forehead with his. " I wanna stay."

You smiled sweetly. " Then we stay."

He kissed you deeply and turned to look at the mountains with you after. Holding you while you rested your head on his shoulder.

…

@salenorona23

#fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x female original character #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie x reader #stranger things #eddie my beloved #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x y/n #eddie x oc #eddie munson x reader #plus size reader #Spotify #SoundCloud