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frvnkcastles · 6 months ago

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THE BEAST INSIDE OF ME ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: Frank doesn’t think he deserves you.

Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, reader is kidnapped, reader has unspecified trauma, feminine nicknames

Word count: 2k

Author’s note: This is 1000% inspired by Type O Negative’s ”Love You to Death” which is one of my fave songs and in my opinion very Frank-coded (maybe that’s why I love it so much). Hope you enjoy!

Frank didn’t deserve you. That was what he firmly believed — that you were too good and he was too fucked up to be worthy of you, that everything he touched fell apart and he didn’t want that to happen to you. He wanted nothing but the best for you, and he just couldn’t believe that he could be that.

But when you were tiptoeing the line between friendship and dating, he allowed himself to be selfish. He tried to let go of his fears and give himself a chance to be happy. You were the first person after Maria he thought could actually make that come true, the first person after her that gave him hope and a glimpse of what it was like to care for someone again. Getting to know you was exhilarating, the thrill of falling in love caught him by surprise but for the time being, he didn’t resist the feeling.

Then the fateful night of you opening up to him came, and he realized that he’d just end up hurting you.

”So, yeah, I don’t really have a great track record with loved ones. It’s hard for me to trust people, but I really like you, Frank”, you shared with him, having explained your family history and past relationships that had all ended up poorly — you seemed to be a magnet for bad people, but Frank had made you believe there was someone for you, too. He made you feel special, in a way that no one ever had before, and you couldn’t help but smile as you gazed at him from your end of the couch.

He shifted uncomfortably on the cushions, casting an ashamed look down at his calloused hands. He had let himself get close to you, and the regret was starting to seep in. Not because he saw you any differently now, no, you were still beautiful and strong to him, and he adored that. But he feared he’d only hurt you further, that he’d break what you had worked so hard to put back together, and he refused to watch it all unfold.

So, he began to pull away. Slowly, at first, in a way that you didn’t really even notice. But eventually it became too obvious, from the way he dodged your calls to his blatant absence in your life. He no longer knocked on your door in the middle of the night nor did he stumble through your window, and when you tried to meet him halfway, you couldn’t find him at any of your usual spots. You sent him countless texts, and he… he just stopped responding.

You felt so stupid. You cried for days but it didn’t soften the ache in your heart in the slightest. You had let your guard down and fallen for the one man you had deemed worth your trust, and you had opened up to him, only for him to leave you in the dust. You connected the dots — clearly, what you had told him about your traumatic past had been too much for him and your baggage too heavy to carry. It was a fault in you.

Maybe it would have made you feel better to know that he was suffering, too. He hadn’t expected severing ties with you to be so difficult, but every night, his finger hovered over the call button, and every morning he woke up to the thought of you. He had fallen for you hard, but he was convinced that contacting you would only be selfish. He brought death and destruction wherever he went, and he didn’t want the violence surrounding him to touch you.

Turns out, even if he distanced himself from you, the chaos in his life could still reach you. That was confirmed for him when he got a message from you and he, against his better judgment, opened it, only to see a video of you tied up to a chair and gagged, tears running down your face. With the message came an address — an obvious trap, but Frank didn’t hesitate to pack his guns and hop behind the wheel.

Your captor snatched the rag in your mouth and loomed over you menacingly, a sick grin twisting his lips. ”You’re making our job easy for us. Castle made a mistake getting attached to a girl”, he taunted, and bitterly, you barked a laugh at him.

”He’s not coming, asshole. He doesn’t care about me”, you spat at him, your heart breaking all over again as you processed your situation. One second you’re getting into your car, the next you’re in the back of a van. And these men were counting on Frank to come and rescue you. Well, you weren’t holding your breath.

To Frank, it was a no-brainer. This whole time, his one objective had been to keep you safe — of course, he was coming to get you. In no time, he was kicking down the door, guns blazing, and your captors left you alone to duel with the man. They tried their best, but Frank was unstoppable when it came to you.

All you could do was watch in shock and amazement as he slaughtered them all, unfazed by the bloodshed but certainly moved by the fact that he was actually there. After weeks of radio silence, you hadn’t expected to see him ever again, but there he was: homicidal and glorious, stained with his enemies’ blood as he gunned all of them down in his path to you.

Tears blurred your vision when he finally reached you, kneeling in front of you with his bruised hands tenderly cupping your face. ”You okay, sweetheart?” he rasped, and with an unbeatable lump in your throat, you managed a nod. With his knife, he cut you free and your tired body keeled forward into his arms, and he quickly wrapped them around you to support you.

He helped you up to your feet and together, you walked back to his truck, past all the dead bodies. You didn’t feel bad for them, but in some weird way, you were anxious about being in Frank’s presence again. You had begun to accept that he didn’t find you worthwhile, yet he had come to your rescue, like it was the most obvious thing. Maybe he was just trying to alleviate his own guilt, not wanting your death on his conscience, but regardless of the reason, he was there.

He was there and he was real. And you wanted nothing more than to cling onto his broad chest and never let him go, to beg him to stay, to cry out all your frustration and slap him and kiss him all at the same time. He had never been more beautiful yet more infuriating, and it drove you crazy.

All you did, though, was climb in his truck and sit in silence as he drove you home. You could feel him stealing glances at you, but you didn’t meet his eye, not sure how you’d react if you gave yourself the chance to get lost in the charming darkness of them. You didn’t want to forgive him but at the same time you felt like you should have been the one to apologize and you didn’t really know what to do about that sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Once home, he helped you inside your apartment and awkwardly watched you wrangle your shoes off and your coat off of your weary shoulders. ”Sure you’re aight?” he asked quietly, and still avoiding his gaze, you nodded to confirm.

”They didn’t really do anything. Just snatched me and tied me up”, you explained while rubbing your irritated wrists. You could handle the burn of a rope — what was harder to stomach was the tension between you and Frank.

He sensed it, too, and supposing he didn’t really have a place in your home anymore, he took a step towards the door. ”So, you’re just gonna leave me again?” you asked, not pulling any punches as you called him out. He turned back to face you, and you finally had the courage to look up at him. ”You know what, I’m not okay! You broke my heart, you asshole”, you proclaimed, throwing your arms around in exasperation.

”I had to”, was all he gave you in return, and it made you laugh in disbelief.

”You had to? Is that how terrible it would have been to just be with me? I opened up to you and the next thing I know, you’re avoiding my calls. I thought I could trust you. I thought you could understand what I’ve been through”, you cried out, burying your face in your hands as the tears broke free. You had to fight back a sob, and not wanting to seem weaker than you already were, you turned your back to Frank.

Your words sank in, and regret immediately flooded his systems. He hadn’t thought of it like that, too caught up in his own anxieties to consider what it would look like to you. ”No, hey, listen to me”, he started, gently grabbing your shoulder to turn you back to him. ”I wasn’t… It wasn’t me rejecting you ’cause of what you told me. Everything you shared was just proof of how strong and amazin’ you are”, he insisted, crouching down to be eye level with you, his hands soft on your shoulders.

”Then why did you leave me?” you sobbed, the pain of his abandonment still aching within you, sore to the touch.

Frowning, Frank came to the painful realization that his attempt to keep you safe had come with a greater cost than he had anticipated. Of course, he hadn’t expected you to be okay with him withdrawing from you, but he hadn’t thought you’d gotten as attached as he had. He was completely in love with you, but the idea of you feeling the same way? Completely foreign to him, right up until now as you cried in front of him, evidently stabbed in the heart by his actions.

”I did it ’cause I’m no good for you, sweetheart. I’m… I’m too damaged, too broken and I can’t be fixed. You deserve someone who won’t drag you down with him. I just wanted to give you that chance”, he attempted to reason with you, his own heart shattering at the sound of your sobs.

”I’m damaged, too, Frank. I thought you’d see we could be equals. I felt—I feel connected to you. I wanted to face all those ugly demons together with you”, you managed to get out, trying to calm your breathing as you frantically wiped your eyes with shaky hands. ”I love you, Frank. And I accept you just the way you are”, you sighed, not able to hold it back any longer. In some sick and twisted way, all the time away from Frank had only cemented in the fact that he had stolen your heart.

Acting on impulse, Frank pulled you into his arms, cradling you against his chest. You wrapped your own arms around his strong frame, craving the contact, and buried your face into his shoulder. He placed a kiss on your temple, and it made you melt.

”I never shoulda left you, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I—I do want you. So badly, you have no fuckin’ idea”, he confessed, his admission making your heart soar.

Gently, you pulled back so you could lock eyes with him. ”I’m right here, Frank. All you have to do is stay with me”, you whispered, and slowly, he nodded.

He took a careful hold of your jaw and leaned down, his lips meeting yours in a deep kiss, one that took your breath away. You closed your eyes and leaned into it, letting him guide you through it, and he did so with admiration and genuine care. He let go only to kiss you again, passionate and slow as he moved, desperate to feel you and taste you.

”Fuckin’ perfect”, he breathed out when he finally broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours. ”Been wantin’ to do that a long time, pretty girl.”

Blushing, you leaned in for one more brief kiss. ”Me too. So… are you gonna stay the night?” you asked cautiously, the anxiety in your chest slowly releasing its hold, even more so when he nodded.

”I’m gonna stay as long as you want me to.”

#frank castle #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader

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lennjamin-o7 · 10 days ago

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Thought it was time to return the curse upon you for once... (also inspired vaguely by the DMs from earlier so hehe)

AU where Techno is a superhero.

Not just any superhero, really. One of the best. He manages to keep the city crime free almost singlehandedly and does so without breaking a sweat. Though he does work together with another hero named Phil and the two are thick as thieves.

It's hotly debated among fangroups of civilians why Techno joined the hero ranks. Since he doesn't exactly make it subtle that he's an introvert, fame is off the list. Techno is kind of brash and awkward too, he doesn't strike people as the sort of guy who does it for something as vague as 'helping people' - he also might get a bit too excited about new villains for that to ring true. There are rumors that his family was killed by a villain and this is Techno getting revenge, but this rumor is never verified. Maybe money? Money is a pretty good motivator.

The truth is that Techno is incredibly bored.

Techno peaked in high school and is so incredibly gifted kid coded. (/hj)

And hero work is a great adrenaline kick, a thrilling situation to throw himself into. Especially villains who come up with wild schemes. Maybe, just maybe, it's even bordering on depression. He has to keep busy with hero work or he literally can't bother to get out of bed or motivate himself for much of anything.

Things have been better since Phil came along. Phil is, in a twist on the usual dynamic, the less experienced one when it comes to hero work (despite being so much older lol, Phil was a civilian hiding his powers before). So he's teamed with Techno to learn the ropes, and the two hit it off, and the team-up becomes permanent. Phil is the first and only person Techno considers a friend. And after befriending Phil, Techno gradually gets a few hobbies (he's cultivating a potato plant in the hero association dorm, he's reading books Phil recommends to him, he's playing chess with Phil on slow afternoons).

But Phil would still like for Techno to have more of an identity outside of his hero work. Techno brushes him off. It's almost a running joke at this point.

(Technoblade is not his real name. It's his hero name. Techno has no civilian identity, never bothered to maintain one. This is concerning to Phil).

Whenever Phil thinks he's made some progress, a new villain will pop up or something will happen and ALL of Techno's attention will go to that again. And then after it's over he'll be bummed out because Techno usually beats the villain very easily and it doesn't pose a challenge for not. What Techno truly needs is an archnemesis.

Good thing that one day, a new supervillain pops up in town.

He's cruel, and he's smart, and he's ruthless. And he's very, very strong. Strong enough to almost beat Techno into the ground one-handed during their first confrontation, though Techno manages to win just barely. It's as if this new villain knows all his moves, his weaknesses. It's exhilarating.

The new villain calls himself The Crowfather.

(Fangroups don't really debate on why Phil joined hero work. But if they did some digging, they might find out that Phil once almost died, and the only thing that kept him from dying was a hero saving him. Technoblade.

They might find out that Phil became a hero not because he cares about the status, or saving people. He just wanted to get closer to Techno. To repay him, somehow, any way he can.

Even if it means murdering a bunch of innocent people.)

Hey, Techno is smiling a lot more now that he has The Crowfather to go up against. And isn't that all that matters :)

[this was so rambly, i'm not very good at this and u can tell lol]

I've think I've kept this hostage long enough Shara Friend. It has been kept for my eyes alone long enough. Now, I freely share it.

Fuck yeah bored Super Hero Technoblade! You popped off with this. I love Sneaky Philza standing by his side and, if it makes him happy, standing against him as well. Who cares about the ants he has to squish to see Technoblade HAPPY. An easy and small price to pay for the guy who saved him.

Gosh, I love this. The DRAMA that would ensue when everything is found out. How will that go? Will Technoblade be appalled? Disgusted? Angry?

Or maybe, just a tiny bit curious about how interesting it would be to be a Villain.

Love it. Love it so much. I want to CORRUPT this version of Technoblade so so SOOO much!!!!

#lenn writes #ask and ye shall receive #other's aus #sharada-n #anarchy-and-piglins #technoblade #philza

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dixonsgirl93 · 8 months ago

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I Need You

Daryl x fem!reader

Heavily inspired by this TikTok by Soapsslave (they post stories of the COD men ~ worth a follow)

Warnings: Angsty and fluffy

Content Description: You two had been hooking up for a few weeks now but you had been in love with him for long before that. One night you tell him you can’t do this anymore and he acts cold towards you…

For a few weeks now you and Daryl had been hooking up in secret. He sneaked into your house late in the evening, gave you the best sex of your life and was always sure to leave at the crack of dawn.

The first time you caught him leaving early you had groggily asked why. He'd given you some excuse for a run and you had no reason to not believe him but after several days of this, it became clear they were excuses.

"I just gotta-" He had started one morning, noticing your eyes following his movements.

"It's okay." You'd said. "I get it." You'd rolled over and there was a pause of silence before the sound of the door closing. Something in that sound felt so final. You weren't sure what it was but in that moment you knew you'd never be with Daryl the way you craved. Not with these late night escapades, acting like nothing more than friends in front of the others but you didn't know how to change it, if you even could.

Up until recently things had been great, amazing even. It was exhilarating to sneak around, stealing hungry kisses against the front door, hoping no one would catch you.

It wasn't only the thrill of it all but the way his hands learned the map of your body, knew every crevice and tender spot like it was home. He knew exactly how you get you begging him for more and making a real mess of the bedsheets as a result. It was bliss.

Even the way he held you close after each time; it felt like everything was right in the world, being in his arms.

Until recently because the truth was that even before you had started hooking up, you had slowly developed feelings for the older man and they were only getting stronger. You knew in your gut that this was all it was ever going to be with Daryl, nothing more than friends with benefits. It hurt to realise that so you couldn't keep up with the way things were.

It had to be put to an end.

One early morning you awoke to the familiar sensation of Daryl climbing out of your bed. You thought about just pretending to be asleep, letting him leave being none the wiser but you took a deep breath and looked over at him, pulling on his jeans.

He looked up at you but simply carried on getting dressed.

"I can't do this anymore." You blurted, your heart racing waiting for his response.

His hands froze on his belt buckle. He grabbed his shirt but before putting it on he looked at you, confused.

"Why?"

You opened your mouth to speak but it was dry and words didn't come. How could you say it was because you wanted more? That you loved him?

He sighed and shoved on his shirt. "Whatever." He grumbled. You stared at him, swallowing down your tears. So it was true, he didn't care. You rolled over and waited for the door to click before letting your tears fall.

The next couple of months were painful, seeing him working around Alexandria. Every day you saw him, even just a glimpse from far away, there he was, tormenting you without ever realising it. For as long as you could you avoided him, leaving rooms if he was there, turning your back on him, just being as cold as you could be. Maybe, just maybe, this will help with getting over him but then you'd see him smile or shove his hair back and those feelings would slam back into you.

You decided a rebound was the answer, someone else to be on top of you would surely distract you from Daryl. But who...?

You found Spencer minding his own business across the way. You quickly fixed your hair and clothes and strutted over. Placing a hand on his shoulder to get his attention you flashed him a flirty smile.

"Hey." You purred, not feeling the flirtiness you were exuding.

A few days had passed as you worked your charm over Spencer, getting closer to your goal when you heard a knock on your door that night. It was 1am. Your mind flitted to Daryl but then you remembered you'd ended that, so would it be at this time? You thought about ignoring it but when they knocked again, you knew it must be something urgent.

You pad over to the door, yawning as you opened it. Your heart stopped, eyes wide, very very awake.

"What...?" You frowned at him before realising and forcing a laugh. "Don't tell me. You miss my pussy?" You shook your head and slammed the door. Well, tried to because Daryl's hand came out to stop it.

"That's not why I'm here." His voice was low, heavy.

"Then what do you want? It's 1am." You fold your arms.

He hesitated. "Can I come in?"

"No, tell me here. Don't worry, it's late. No one's going to see us." Your voice dripped with sarcasm. Daryl looked rather taken aback at the venom in your voice. You hadn't realised how much the sneaking around had actually bothered you.

"I'm sorry about that, Y/N. I didn't want people getting the wrong idea of you." He admitted.

You scoffed. "That I hook up with guys, you mean? The way I did with you? Whatever. That's not what you came here for so just spit it out. I'm tired." You were acting so cold but something inside was warming up. His words rang deep within you.

"I came to say I like you and I'm sorry for fuckin' everythin' up with you." He raked a hand through his hair and sighed.

You scoffed again, unfolding your arms. "I'm only just starting to get over you and then you come and tell me this lie?"

Daryl opened his mouth to speak but you raised a hand, cutting him off.

"No, I fell in love with you, Daryl, okay? But loving you hurt me. It was only about sex. You hardly looked at me outside my bedroom. You can't just show up at 1am and tell me this now. It's completely unfair." At some point during your speech, tears had filled your eyes. You let them fall, let the impact of them hurt Daryl back.

"Please go away." Your voice was softer and this time Daryl let you shut the door on him. His face killed you, he had no idea of your feelings.

A week had passed and it was even more painful than before. It was obvious Daryl wanted desperately to come over and talk to you but you held strong, pulling your focus into Spencer who lapped up your attention like a puppy.

He worked as a distraction for a short while and when he asked you out on a dinner date you agreed, seeing another opportunity to put Daryl behind you.

The night went smoothly enough, even as Spencer bragged that one day he'd be leader of this place. You had to hold back a scoff at that, hiding it behind your wine.

After dinner Spencer cleared the table. "Want to sit on the sofa?" He asked it innocently enough but you could feel how the evening was progressing and wondered if you should back out, say you're tired and should go home. But you don't, you follow him to the sofa where he sits close to you.

"I've really enjoyed this evening with you, Y/N." He said.

"Me too." Your heart raced with the lie. You couldn't do this. It felt wrong. Spencer was not who you wanted.

He leaned in slowly. "I really like you." He was almost to your lips but you instinctively pulled back.

"I'm sorry." You stand up, placing your glass on the table. "I have to go. I'm sorry."

"Is everything okay?" There was genuine hurt in his voice.

"I just...I can't do this. It's not you, really. I just..." You escaped, leaving your date and your poor excuse behind.

You go into your house, collapsing onto your sofa. Tears stung your eyes and one by one fell down your cheeks. A sob escaped and you lay down, letting the sobs continue in waves. At some point you fell asleep on the sofa, still in your dress and shoes.

There was a knock on your door which awoke you. Oh god, you hoped it wasn't Spencer. How could you explain why you ran out on him? You were going to ignore it.

"Y/N!" A familiar voice called. "Please. I need to talk to you."

You got up from the sofa and opened the door.

"What the hell?" His eyes went wide as he scanned your face. "What did he do?"

You frowned. "What? Who?"

"You've been crying. What did that bastard do?" He sounded angry. "Spencer." He emphasised, seeing the confusion on your face.

"How do you know about that?" You asked, incredulous.

"I saw you leaving his house lookin' upset." He frowned back at you.

"He didn't do anything, I just left." You admitted, the fight leaving your body.

"Why?"

You hesitated then looked into his eyes. "You know why."

"I'm sorry." He whispered, taking a step closer to you. "I...I thought keepin' it...casual was better. I'm not good with relationships. I thought you wanted that too."

"I did. Well, I thought I did." You admitted.

"Why didn't you say that you didn't want that?"

You took a deep breath. "Because I'd rather have a little of you than nothing at all. I thought I could handle that."

There was a heavy silence as you watched each other, processing the situation.

"I should have told ya the truth at the start as well. Fuck, what a mess." Daryl scoffed and ran a hand through his hair again.

"I know." You forced a laugh.

"Let's keep this simple, yeah?" Daryl stepped closer, placed his hands on your waist. Your heart skipped. "We like each other, right?" You nodded. "Wanna be mine? No hiding this time, I promise." He smirked.

You smiled softly back. "Yeah, I do."

He pulled you into him, his lips meeting yours and he held you tight with a hand behind your head, giving you no chance of escape, not that you ever wanted to.

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corrupte3d-mindz · 5 months ago

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Blood Brothers

Thomas Shelby x F! Reader

Summary: Thomas is so in love with her and he believes nothing will ever happen to her.

Wordcount: 3.1k

Warnings:

Angst, Death, Blood, Gunshots, Suicide, Graphic Depictions.

Inspiration: Brother Joe — Ole 60

True love—Thomas could remember it like it was just yesterday. Meeting her at the Garrison and going a date was one of the few things that made his life better. The memory of that day was seared into his mind, a bright spot in an otherwise dark existence.

Thomas stood alone in the smoky confines of the Garrison, nursing a glass of whiskey that glinted amber in the dim light. The familiar hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses seemed distant, mere background noise to the memories that had come rushing back unbidden. He thought back to the first date, a night that had set the course of his life on a path he could never have anticipated.

It had been a rare warm evening in Small Heath, Birmingham, the air thick with the promise of summer. Thomas, usually so composed and unflappable, had found himself uncharacteristically nervous. He’d dressed carefully, his suit impeccably tailored, his cap perched at a rakish angle. Yet, as he approached her door, he felt his heart pound in a way it never had, not even in the most perilous of situations.

She had answered the door with a smile that stole his breath away. Her dress, simple yet elegant, accentuated her natural beauty in a way that left him momentarily speechless. He had fumbled for words, his usual eloquence deserting him. “Good evenin’,” he managed, his voice sounding strangely foreign to his own ears.

“Good evening, Thomas,” she had replied, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and something deeper, something that drew him in like a moth to a flame. “Are you ready for our night out?”

He had nodded, offering his arm with a gallant flourish that felt both archaic and perfectly right. “Shall we?” he said, his nerves momentarily soothed by the touch of her hand on his arm.

They had walked through the bustling streets of Small Heath, the sounds of the city creating a symphony that seemed to underscore the importance of the evening. Thomas had taken her to a small, intimate restaurant, one he knew would provide the perfect backdrop for their first date. The proprietor, an old friend, had greeted them warmly, ensuring they were seated at the best table, tucked away in a quiet corner. As they perused the menu, Thomas found himself sweating, a fine sheen of perspiration gathering at his temples. He cursed inwardly, wishing for the easy confidence he displayed in every other aspect of his life. But here, with her, he felt exposed, vulnerable in a way that both terrified and exhilarated him.

She had seemed to sense his discomfort, her laughter light and musical as she reached across the table to touch his hand. “Thomas, it’s just dinner,” she said, her eyes meeting his with a reassurance that steadied him. “No need to be nervous.”

He had laughed then, a genuine sound that felt like a release. “I know,” he admitted, squeezing her hand gently. “It’s just… I’ve never seen a woman as beautiful as you.”

Her cheeks had flushed a delicate pink, her smile widening. “You flatter me, Mr. Shelby.”

“It’s no flattery,” he had replied earnestly. “Just the truth.”

The evening had unfolded like a dream, each moment etched into his memory with a clarity that defied time. They had talked for hours, sharing stories of their lives, their hopes, and their fears. He learned that she had a sharp wit and a keen intelligence, traits that only deepened his attraction. She, in turn, seemed genuinely interested in his life, his ambitions, and the shadows that sometimes darkened his gaze.

After dinner, they had walked back through the streets, the night air cooling the lingering heat of the day. The city felt different, almost magical, transformed by the connection they had forged. When they reached her door, Thomas had paused, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. He wanted to kiss her, to seal the promise of the night with a touch that would convey everything words could not.

She had smiled, reading his thoughts with an ease that unnerved him. “Goodnight, Thomas,” she said softly, stepping closer. “Thank you for a wonderful evening.”

“Goodnight,” he replied, his voice a low murmur. And then, gathering his courage, he had leaned in, his lips brushing hers in a kiss that was both tender and electric. She had responded with a sweetness that left him breathless, her hand resting gently on his chest.

When they parted, he had looked into her eyes, seeing a future there that both thrilled and terrified him. “I’ll see you again?” he asked, his voice betraying the depth of his desire.

She had nodded, her smile lighting up the darkness. “Yes, Thomas. You will.”

As he walked away, the night closing in around him, Thomas had felt a sense of hope and possibility that had long eluded him. He knew that he had found something rare and precious, something worth fighting for.

Back in the present, Thomas took a deep sip of his whiskey, the burn of the liquor grounding him. He had never been a man to dwell on the past, but tonight, the memories seemed to demand his attention. He thought of the woman who had changed everything, the woman whose love had become the anchor in his tumultuous life.

“Thomas,” a familiar voice broke through his reverie. It was Arthur, his brother, looking at him with a mixture of concern and curiosity. “You all right?”

Thomas nodded, setting his glass down with a decisive clink. “Just thinkin’, Arthur. About the past, and the future.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow, a rare moment of insight crossing his rugged features. “Thinkin’ about her, eh? She’s somethin’ special, that one.”

“Yes, she is,” Thomas agreed, a faint smile touching his lips. “She’s the reason I keep fightin’, keep pushin’ forward.”

Arthur clapped him on the shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring. “Well, you’ve got us behind you, Tommy. Always.”

“I know,” Thomas replied, his voice steady with conviction. “And with her by my side, there’s nothin’ we can’t face.”

As the night wore on, Thomas found a renewed sense of purpose. He knew that the road ahead would be fraught with challenges, but he also knew that he was not alone. With his family and the woman he loved, he was ready to face whatever the future held. For now, he would cherish the memory of their first date, a reminder of the love that had blossomed against all odds. It was a love that had transformed him, given him hope, and made him believe in a future worth fighting for.

And so, as the last patrons filtered out of the Garrison and the bar quieted, Thomas Shelby allowed himself a moment of peace. He raised his glass in a silent toast to the woman who had changed his life, and to the promise of all that was yet to come.

His mind drifted back to the past once again, to the years that had flown by like leaves in the wind. He thought of his children, of the laughter and joy they brought into his life despite the darkness that often surrounded him. The image of their innocent faces brought a rare, genuine smile to his lips. And then, as if conjured by the music, his thoughts turned to her.

A few years had passed since they first started talking about having children, and now, their home echoed with the laughter and cries of two little ones. His heart clenched at the memory of their births, the overwhelming surge of love and responsibility that had washed over him the moment he held them for the first time.

“Tommy?” Her voice, soft and steady, brought him back to the present. She stood a few paces behind him, wrapped in a woolen shawl against the night’s chill. Her presence was a grounding force, a beacon of warmth and stability in his often tumultuous world.

He turned to face her, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite the weight on his mind. “What are you doin’ out here, love? It’s cold.”

“I could ask you the same,” she replied, stepping closer. “Couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d find you thinkin’ out here.”

Thomas chuckled, the sound low and rough. “Aye, well, you know me too well.”

She reached out, her hand finding his in the darkness. “What’s on your mind?”

His breathing slowly calmed down and he pulled her in a tight embrace as his hands snaked around her waist. “Just the business, love”

The warmth of her body and the subtle scent of her perfume filled his senses, grounding him in the moment. His hands rested on her stomach, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her breath. She leaned back into him, tilting her head slightly to rest against his shoulder. Thomas could see the soft curve of her neck, an invitation he couldn’t resist. He lowered his head, brushing his lips against her ear, and whispered, "You know I love you, _______”

Her smile was small but genuine, her eyes closing as she savored the closeness. "I know, Thomas," she replied softly, her voice filled with affection. "I love you too."

Thomas tightened his hold on her, pulling her even closer. His hands moved from her waist to her hips, holding her firmly but tenderly. He bent his head further, his breath warm against her skin, and began to place gentle, lingering kisses along the nape of her neck. Each kiss was a silent promise, a testament to the depth of his love and the bond they shared. She shivered slightly under his touch, her hands coming up to rest on top of his. She turned her head just enough so that their cheeks brushed together, her lips tantalizingly close to his. Thomas moved one hand from her hip to her chin, guiding her face towards his. Their lips met in a slow, tender kiss, full of the unspoken emotions that words could never fully capture.

He kissed her deeply, savoring the taste of her lips and the softness of her skin. His other hand remained on her hip, anchoring them both in the moment. She responded with equal fervor, her hands slipping behind her to grip the back of his neck, pulling him even closer. The kiss deepened, growing more passionate as their need for each other intensified. Thomas's hand moved from her chin to cradle her face, his thumb brushing against her cheek. He kissed her with an urgency that spoke of all the times they had been apart, all the dangers they had faced, and all the love that had brought them back together.

She turned in his arms, wanting to face him fully. Their kiss broke only for a moment, their breaths mingling as they gazed into each other's eyes. There was a fire in Thomas’s eyes, a raw intensity that made her heart race. He captured her lips once more, his kiss fervent and consuming.

Thomas sat at his mahogany desk, sorting through papers and signing certain things that needed his signature. It was a task that gnawed at him with the persistence of an old wound.

He strode purposefully towards the storage room, the heels of his polished boots clicking against the wooden floor. The room was dimly lit, shadows pooling in the corners, and the faint smell of old books and dust filled the air. Thomas reached for the heavy black phone mounted on the wall, the cold metal a stark contrast to the warmth of his hand. He dialed the familiar number, each rotation of the dial bringing him closer to the sound of her voice.

"Hello?" Her voice, soft and melodic, crackled through the line.

"It's me," Thomas said, his voice low and steady, the Birmingham lilt unmistakable. "I'll be a bit late tonight. There's something I need to finish here first."

There was a pause on the other end, a hesitation that spoke volumes. "Alright, Tommy. Just be careful, please."

Thomas felt a pang of guilt. She always worried about him, knew the dangers that lurked in every shadow of his world. "I will," he promised, though he knew it was a promise he might not always be able to keep. "I'll see you soon."

"I'll see you soon."

He hung up the phone, the finality of the click resonating in the silence. For a moment, he stood there, his hand lingering on the receiver, his mind drifting back to the days when life was simpler. A song she had sung to him to help him sleep was weaving its way through his thoughts, pulling him back to a time when his only concerns were the next race, the next deal, the next drink. Thomas shook himself from his reverie and turned to the task at hand. He needed to go through the inventory, ensure that everything was accounted for and ready for the next shipment. It was a mundane task, but one that required his meticulous attention to detail.

The old rotary phone in the corner of Thomas Shelby's dimly lit office began to ring. The sound, usually a harbinger of business or bad news, was a jarring intrusion into the rare tranquility he had found that evening. Thomas was in the midst of humming an old gospel hymn he had learned from his sweet, sweet _______ a rare moment of sentimentality for the man known more for his ruthlessness than his piety.

“Nearer, my God, to Thee,” he sang softly, his voice a low rumble that echoed in the sparse room. The hymn was a link to a past long buried under layers of soot and blood, a memory of a simpler time after the war, during the Peaky Blinders, while everything had become so damned complicated.

The phone's incessant ringing persisted, pulling Thomas back to the present. With a sigh, he stood and crossed the room, his footsteps heavy against the worn wooden floor. He glanced at the caller ID, his sharp blue eyes narrowing as he recognized the number. It was the Bobbie’s office.

He picked up the receiver, the cold metal a stark contrast to the warmth of his thoughts. "Thomas Shelby speaking," he said, his voice steady but with an edge of impatience.

The call had come just as dusk was settling, the sky outside painted in hues of deep blue and purple. The voice on the other end, urgent and breathless, delivered news that made his blood run cold. "Mr. Shelby, sir, it's the parsonage... someone broke in. The neighbors heard poppin’…”

Before the lady on the other end could finish, Thomas felt his knees buckle. He clutched the edge of his desk for support, the world around him spinning. "Caught him... two broken locks and three little bodies... and _______”

My sweet, sweet _______

The receiver slipped from his grasp, clattering to the floor. For a moment, he stood there, paralyzed by the weight of the words that hung in the air. His mind raced, memories of her laughter, her touch, her warmth, flooding him like a tidal wave. The image of her lifeless body, of the innocent children who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, seared into his consciousness.

With a guttural cry, Thomas sank to his knees, his hands gripping the edge of the desk as he fought to regain control. The room felt stifling, the air thick with a suffocating silence. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to stand, to think, to act.

The caller on the phone spoke once more; “Were sending a Bobbie to come talk to you…” The line went silent.

Thomas Shelby sat alone in his dimly lit office, the weight of the world pressing down on his shoulders. The events of the past few hours had taken their toll on him, and he found himself at a crossroads, unsure of which path to take. The image of his wife, _______, lying lifeless on the ground flashed before his eyes, and he clenched his fists in anger and frustration.

He knew that he was a man that would hurt anyone but circumstances had pushed him to the brink. He believed that he needed to leave a bullet in a man's head to set things right, to protect his family and his empire. He knew that come the risen sun, it would all be said and done, and he would have to live with the consequences of his actions.

With a heavy heart, Thomas reached for the gun that lay on his desk, its cold steel sending a shiver down his spine. He didn't want to do this, but he felt that he had no choice. Tears welled up in his eyes as he pressed the barrel of the gun against his temple, the weight of his decisions bearing down on him like a ton of bricks.

"Jesus wept," he whispered, the words catching in his throat. What the hell was all this for? He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. With a steady hand, he pulled the trigger, the sound of the gunshot echoing through the empty room.

As Thomas fell to the floor, his lifeless body hitting the ground with a thud, his soul began its journey home. Home to his three boys and his sweet _______, the only light in his dark world. His sweet _______, who had stood by him through thick and thin, who had been his rock in times of trouble.

Thomas Shelby was gone, but his legacy would live on, a testament to the man he had been and the choices he had made. And somewhere, in the great beyond, his soul found peace, reunited with those he had lost along the way.

Author’s Notes:

Btw the places he’s in are jumping all over for a reason!

If I ruined your night and that was the plan I’m not sorry. I honestly do recommend listening to what they have out it’s so good. Peace and cheers my babies! Ole’ 60!!

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shirefantasies · 18 days ago

Note

Hello friend ! 🤍 I see your requests are temporarily open and I hope that is still the case. Your writing is so cute and wholesome and I rly enjoy it 😊

I am not sure if you have me on your taglist- If not, could you tag my tolkien blog @wordbunch so that I don't miss anything!

Could I ask either for hobbits with elf crush (yes we have human crush but what about elf crush!), or how the members of the fellowship (the ones that were there for the final battle against sauron, when aragorn made the famous speech lol) - how you support/motivate/comfort each other before that event

Sorry for the suuuuper big message 😇

Nah you're totally fine! I've gotten waaaaaay longer and more complicated asks 😂 I have @wordbunch on my taglist rn so I'll keep tagging you in all my posts 🥰 it's still crazy to me that the blog that I loved and was inspired to make this blog from IS ON MY TAGLIST WHATTTTTTTT insane. It's like I'm a musician and like Freddy Mercury or the Beatles or if you’re me Danny Elfman is following me lmaos nuts man. All that to say I so appreciate your support and here are some hobbits to start 😉

The Hobbits Falling For Elf!Reader

Frodo

His Elvish skills serve him greatly here; as if by instinct he greets you in your own language, bringing a smile to your lips. “Where did you learn the words of the Sindar?” “From my uncle, actually. Ever since his visit here years ago he has never forgotten your history and your hospitality.” Realization widens your eyes and parts your lips. “Your uncle is Bilbo Baggins?” “Yes,” the hobbit smiles and gives a little bow, “I am Frodo Baggins, Bilbo’s nephew.” Your hand clutches your heart and you look upon Frodo’s rising form with new exhilaration. “I was there when Bilbo and his company came. Quite a…well, a boisterous gathering, but your uncle was dear, curious and polite. A model guest indeed. It is an honor to know another member of your lovely family.” At that, you take your turn to give Frodo a small bow, one hand sweeping outward. The intensity of his eyes, the great joy and wonder, brings heat to your cheeks that matches the red tinting his.

Sam

Sam’s awe for the elves comes to his aid here for it gives him a bit of courage to talk to you, but also disguises his attraction to you as that wonder-filled curiosity. He tells himself-nay, all but commands himself- that curiosity it shall remain. You are very pretty after all, but what would an elf want with a- “Are you, then, the gardener I heard about from Frodo?” Half jumping out of his skin, Sam focuses again on your eyes, his own quite wide. “Oh, yes indeed! Indeed I am. What did he tell you about me?” “Only that you tend every growing thing with the utmost care, and if anyone knew a thing about the Shire-plants, it was you, Master Gamgee.” “Begging your pardon, but you can just call me Sam if it suits you.” “It does indeed, Sam. If I ask it of you, would you answer a few questions? Look at a few sketches? My task, no, my passion, is my book of botany, and I believe you would be a great help.” “You could use my help? Of course! Lead the way.” Standing up as straight and tall as he could, Sam remained at attention, grinning up at you. His smiled warmed you as you led him between the great trees of Lothlórien to your study.

Merry

“You’re an elf!” “Yes,” you giggle, “And you are a hobbit, are you not?” “That’s right, a hobbit of the Shire! …Are we really going to Rivendell?” Merry’s smile is infectious. “Yes,” you answer with a nod, “Your friend is safe there and so shall you be.” “Is it true what they say about it?” “That would depend.” “That it’s the most beautiful place in Middle Earth, positively glowing with magic?” The flutter of joy in your heart that always comes with thoughts of home returns in full warmth. “It is to me,” you answered, glancing back down into the hobbit’s dark blue eyes. “I think it will stay second to Hobbiton for me,” Merry confessed with a wide smile, “Although if you’re there, Rivendell may win out yet.”

Pippin

“You’re all very good at that, you know.” Turning on your heels, you see a hobbit standing leaned against a pillar on the far side of your practice area. Crossing it to retrieve your arrow from its embedment in your target, you watch your visitor with curious amusement. A smirk spreads across your face. “Archery? Far from it. My brother alone proves that.” “Not a good shot?” The hobbit replies. “Accidentally caught one of Lord Elrond’s banners once. Tore the whole thing down.” “I’d likely do the same,” the hobbit admits with a sheepish smile. “You know not until you take up a bow yourself. Come…” “Pippin.” “Pippin,” you smile, reaching a hand down to urge him forward by the shoulder and seeing Pippin smile at the contact, “Stand here.” Remaining there as he did, Pippin bobbed and bounced on his heels as you retrieved a child’s training bow. As soon as he accepted it you stood behind the hobbit, wrapping your arms over his and sliding his hands into the proper grip. “How is that?” “Excellent,” he said. “Good. Now, my dear Pippin, let us take a shot!”

Bilbo

Nothing could have prepared him for what awaited him upon entry to the Valley of Imladris. Not the cascading waterfalls or white columns, not the great libraries, no. You. Far taller than him and much fairer, you stun the hobbit like nothing else. How can he address you? What could he possibly find to discuss with someone in the council of Lord Elrond himself? …Literature. He can do that! As it turns out, his stroke of luck is greater than he might have anticipated: you are a writer, painstakingly translating old Quenya texts. “I-I’ve studied a fair bit of the Sindar’s language, but this? This is quite unfamiliar to me.” Scooting your chair closer, you smile down at the hobbit. “Here, allow me to show you.” Bilbo leans closer- he must, for you invite him to sit at your side and peer over your shoulder, eyes scanning between unfamiliar characters and your lovely profile.

Rosie

Her gut reaction becomes her voiced reaction: “I never thought I would see an elf in real life.” Sheepishness overtakes her as soon as the words leave her mouth, though. Chuckling gently, you admit this was quite a journey for you, too. Another initial reaction and joke from Rosie is that you’ve never tasted real ale, then- hobbits’ ale. You’re quickly being poured a glass. Over drinks she asks you questions, like what plants grow in your region and what your favorites are. What you eat, what you drink. All the questions you might expect from a hobbit, but with such a glowing, endearing smile the whole time.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @filiswingman @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn @wordbunch @tiny-and-witchy @th3-st4r-gur1 @fleurdemiel-145 @mistresskayla-blog1 @misabelle717 @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @evattude @kpopgirlbtssvt @rivendell-poet | Reply/Message/Ask to join 🖤

#lord of the rings #the hobbit #lotr imagines #the hobbit imagines #lotr x reader #the hobbit x reader #frodo #sam #merry #pippin #bilbo #rosie #elf reader #ask #shirebarbie #requested #lookie everyone THE wordbunch follows me 🤩🤩🤩

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eddieloverr · 2 years ago

Text

Forbidden Love ( Eddie Munson x Female Reader)

Series summary; You need to prove you can dump a guy in 10 days, Eddie needs to prove he can make a girl fall in love with him in 10 days. The clock is ticking, what could possibly go wrong?

Authors note; This is my first fan-fic series so I'm pretty excited to publish this & please ignore any errors if you spot any, I've tried my best to revise and edit any errors I saw. If you couldn't tell by the summary, this series is heavily inspired/based off the movie 'How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days'. I will be adding my own scenes and this will have smut in the later chapters so please, 18+ only. I really do enjoy feedback so if you'd like to say something, please do! :) On that note, enjoy this little series! - Jess <3

Chapter word count; 6.2k

Chapter warnings; Mentions of sex, mentions of death ( believe that's all, only read if you're 18+)

Comments, feedback, and reblogs are very appreciated!

"God, Nancy, I busted my ass in grad school to be this magazines "How to" girl and write articles like, 'How to know what color looks best on you' or 'How to use the best pickup lines.'"

"I want to write about things that actually matter, like politics and the environment, the earth - things I'm interested in, things I want to write."

It's true, you worked hard to get into a magazine like this. More to get a name for yourself, to get more offers and opportunities for your writing career. You wanted to write about stuff that mattered, stuff that you cared about, not about shoes or clothes.

"Keep busting your ass, you'll get there." Nancy replied as she gave you a tight lip smile. "Hey, I've got something to help cheer you up.. you know that guy from sports illustrated that you've been recklessly flirting with on the phone for like whooo, a month now? He made a very special delivery this morning." She said, holding up and waving what seemed to be a piece of paper while smirking at you.

"Oh, ha ha, let me see." You then replied, trying to snatch whatever she was waving in the air.

"Don't- no!" She practically yelled, attempting to hide the piece of paper in her hand.

"Hey!" You eventually got it and looked at your now tickets for a basketball game you always end up watching on tv. "Whoooo! Tomorrow night" This was exciting. Guess your 'reckless flirting' paid off.

"What happens tomorrow night?" Nancy said while smirking even more now.

"Only the most exhilarating and artistic display of athletic competition known to mankind."

"The lce Capades are in town?" She questioned.

"No, the NBA Finals are in town, and l got tickets!" You said loudly for your other coworkers to hear. "Nance, come with me?"

"All right, i'll go. But l am not putting out." She said, eying you up and down.

"Oh, please nance two stale jumbo dogs and a couple of beers, you'll be whistling a different tune." You said seductively while walking to your office right next to hers. Only a couple of little grey walls separating your small workplaces apart.

"You know what l like." she smiled.

"Ohhh mmmmwah" you sent a kiss her way.

"Good morning, ladies. Don't forget, staff meeting in 30 minutes." Your very nosy and slightly annoying coworker, Michelle, says as she walks by. Only a couple offices down and you can still hear her loud gossiping.

You and Nancy exchange a look as she walks away. Yep, Michelle was definitely made for this business.

"Robin, I haven't seen her all morning. Have you?" you asked. Robin, your best friend, going all the way back to college. She was your assigned roommate, who knew all it took was for her to spill soda all over your white rug and start rapidly apologizing to form an unbreakable friendship. Ever since then you'd bonded, especially since you both had a passion for writing and were pursuing a degree in that field. Obviously a magazine wasn't a first choice - hell not even a choice at all but this would open many opportunities for you and Robin and you both just couldn't pass up on it.

"Ten to one she's wallowing."

"l'll get her, you get the coffee and meet me in the corner in 20." You said rushing towards the door.

"Wait, Wait, Wait." Nancy shouted as she reached below her desk and pulled out a black bag and stuffed it with samples scattered all over her space.

"Take some samples." She said as she handed them to you.

"Samples! Great idea." You smiled at her, rushing out of there.

"Oh boy. Drama, drama, drama." Nancy said to herself as she stood up, grabbed her purse and also made her way out of the office area.

You rushed down the stairs, grabbed a shirt off a clothing rack that Robin would definitely like and made your way out towards the apartment you shared with Robin.

─────────────────────────

Arriving at his designated workplace. Of course this wasn't even a choice for him, if you asked the old Eddie where he'd see himself in a couple years he'd most likely reply with "Traveling the world with my band" or "Living out the rockstar dream". He'd never thought he'd be an advertising executive. It was either this in the big city of Indianapolis or a cashier at a local gas station back in Hawkins.

How could he turn down this job though? Steve, his best friend, who also happens to be one of his coworkers, talked to his dad, basically begging to let Eddie have a job given Steve's dad owns the business.

Luckily, although it took a lot of convincing, Steve's dad finally gave in and offered Eddie a job to work alongside Steve.

Eddie's grateful towards Steve for the opportunity, it helped him get enough cash to stop dealing, move out of his uncle's trailer, and move to Indianapolis to his own apartment.

Life was great for Eddie, he has a decent job, great friends, he even traded his rusty old van for a much better motorcycle. Everything was going well but yet he longed for something more.

"Hello Eddie." Chrissy, Eddie's coworker said as she walked past him parking his motorcycle not even sparing him a second glance

"Hey, hey, good morning, Cunningham" Eddie replied, now getting off his motorcycle and walking towards Chrissy. Who's now reading a magazine.

"What are you reading, girl? You catching up on your current events? ''Turn-On Tricks: How to Make Him Hot.'' You know, if you want to try those out sometime, we should get together." he said jokingly.

"Victoria and l have an appointment at Composure, the fastest growing magazine in the country, and seeing as how our clients run a lot of our campaigns in their nationally-syndicated little girlie magazine, it wouldn't hurt you to do a little reading."

As if on cue, "Hey Eddie" Victoria said as she walked out the building towards Chrissy and himself.

"Good morning, Victoria"

"You finally decided to show up today?" She asked.

"Yes I did."

"You ready?" Victoria asked Chrissy.

"Ready. Later Eddie." Chrissy said as both of Eddie's coworkers walked towards a taxi.

"Have a nice day, ladies." He said walking into the building.

─────────────────────────

You knocked on your apartment door, since you knew Robin was home there was no need to search for your key.

"Hi!" Robin said, laughing nervously as she opened the door. You could tell Robin was holding back her tears. You knew her better than yourself and it hurt seeing her like this.

"Oh.." She said as she started sobbing the closer you walked in.

"Good morning, sunshine. Don't cry, go get dressed. Staff meeting, 15 minutes. Let's go" You said as you walked by her to open the living room curtains. As much as you wanted to comfort her you knew she would turn into a sobbing mess if you started asking questions. You only had 15 minutes and getting her ready for her job seemed better than for her to be heartbroken and jobless.

"l'm going back to bed. l have no reason to live." Robin said as she jumped on her bed pulling the covers up.

"Sun's out. Oh..." You said as you walked towards the table and grabbed the little black bag that Nancy handed you.

"Okay, just..." She stopped talking as she harshly blew on her nose with a handkerchief.

"Okay, now..." you said as you sat down on her bed and tossed her the shirt you grabbed on your way home.

"Cashmere?" She asked with a slight smile on her face. You knew she'd like it.

"Put it on. It'll make your eyes look fiercely blue." You smiled at her.

"Oh!" She said as she clutched the shirt tighter to her chest.

"Get up Robin. l'm not going to let you lose your job on top of everything else."

"Oh." she said as if she was on the verge of tears.

"Come here." you extended your arms to pull her in for a hug.

"Oh, Y/N." she got up and pulled you into a tight hug.

"Okay." you said.

"Okay." she replied.

"You only dated the girl for a week."

"It was the best week of my life." She said as she bursted into tears.

"Sweetheart." you squeezed her tighter.

─────────────────────────

"Good morning, Ladies! What's up, Jonathan." Eddie greeted as he walked by his coworkers' offices, making his way towards his own office he shared with Steve.

"What's up, kitty cat?" Eddie said to Steve as he walked into their shared office, towards his side of the room.

"What's up, daddy? Big night?" Steve asked as he removed his headphones.

"Not bad." Eddie said as he placed down his helmet on the side of his desk.

"Orgy?" Steve asked.

"Where were you man?" Eddie snorted.

"Not at an orgy." Steve said as he walked to Eddie's desk.

"Did you hear?" Jonathan asked as he suddenly walked into the room.

"What, that my Knickerbockers are now in the championship series and Jonny 'the bone' here owes me 20 bucks?" Eddie said as he removed his leather jacket.

"Pay him." Steve said to Jonathan.

"Oh, man. Well, you were right. DeLauer Diamonds is looking for a new ad agency. Mr. Harrington wants to move on it aggressively." Jonathan said as he pulled out a 20 and gave it to Eddie.

"Yes! Oh, this is a good day. This is a good day! Guys, did you know that diamonds are about as common as taxis on Fifth avenue?" Eddie said as he pulled off his black Metallica shirt to put on a more work appropriate shirt. He felt eyes on him outside his office, probably his other female coworkers he always catches staring at him. It still surprises him that he somehow turned his title from "Freak" to "Ladies man."

"The value is entirely sentimental, maintained by a supply, demand and advertising." Eddie said as Jonathan showed him two shirts to choose from.

"Stripes." Eddie said, pointing to a striped shirt and catching it as Jonathan threw it at him.

"Now, DeLauer dominates the world diamond market. Meaning if l represent them, l basically represent the entire industry." Eddie said as he flicked a little ad of Mrs. DeLauer.

Steve and Jonathan then gave each other a look and muttered something only for them to hear.

"What?" Eddie asked.

"My dad gave it to the judys." Steve said.

"Chrissy and Victoria, they're already on it." Jonathan added.

"No way!" Eddie said disappointed.

"Yeah, well, you know, Mr. Harrington is kind of partial to hot leggy chicks, for some reason." Jonathan said as he looked towards Eddie who was now looking out the glass window at the three girls who were staring this whole time. They quickly looked away as Eddie gave them a glance.

"Yeah, we're the, you know, the sneakers and beer division. Precious gems aren't exactly our forte." Jonathan added.

Eddie, who was now fully clothed, pointed to the window as he made his way towards the door "Lips and Hips are over at a chick's magazine right now. I gotta get to Mr. Harrington before they sink-"

Jonathan got in the way of the door before Eddie could walk out "You can't. You can't. He's on a plane."

"Easy pal, my dads at a Chicago meeting." Steve said as he patted Eddie's shoulder and slightly pushed him back.

"And it's too late anyway 'cause Mr. Harrington's meeting them for drinks at Mullin's tonight to discuss their idea-"

"This isn't happening. You know why?" Eddie said, interrupting Jonathan.

"This was my tip. It's gonna be my pitch, my account, my campaign. This is my baby." Eddie said with determination.

"That's what I'm talking about." Said Steve.

"They will not ace me outta this." Eddie said as he fist pumped Steve and Jonathan.

"I heard that!" Jonathan added.

"Okay.. Mullins tonight." Eddie confirmed as he walked back towards his desk.

"I heard that!!" Steve mocked Jonathan.

─────────────────────────

You walked out the taxi and walked towards the other side to Robin blowing her nose and Nancy running towards you both with coffees in her hand.

"Hi!" Nancy greeted Robin as she handed her a coffee.

"Hi. I don't really wanna talk about it okay?" Robin replied as she discarded the handkerchief in her purse and closed the taxi door.

"Okay." Nancy replied, handing you your coffee.

"Okay." Robin replied as you three walked towards the entrance of your work before stopping abruptly.

"Why does this always happen to me?" Robin said as she started tearing up again. "Things are going great for like a week and a half, and then all of a sudden it's over and I am mystified. Seriously, I am mystified because it always starts out so well." She rambled as she walked away from you both and towards the entrance.

"Poor baby." Nancy said as you both tried to catch up with Robin.

"Let's just roll with this" You said.

"Vickie and I had such a connection." Robin said as she stopped again in front of the entrance and turned to face you both.

"The first time that we had sex... it was so beautiful, I cried." She smiled and walked away into the building.

"You cried?" Nancy asked as you both tried to catch up with her again.

"Yeah."

"You mean like one glistening year on your cheek, right?" You asked now side by side with your best friend walking towards an elevator.

"No, I was really emotional. I even told her that I loved her." She said.

"After how many days?" You asked.

"Five.. Two. It was how I felt. I just wanted to express myself. You know how my brain and mouth work."

"Okay. Well, what did she say?" You asked.

"Oh, Vickie didn't have to say anything. I know that she felt the same. But then she started getting really busy and I didn't know where she was. I kept calling her, and calling her but she was never home."

"You kept calling her?" You asked looking into her eyes with a "Really robin?" look.

"I didn't leave a message. She didn't know it was me.. my numbers blocked."

The elevator dinged and you all walked toward the opening doors.

"Oh. I'm.. I'm sure she thought it was one of her friends." Nancy said as you all walked into the elevator.

"Anyway I know why she dumped me. I'm too fat."

"You're not fat!"

"You're not fat!" You and Nancy said in sync as the elevator doors closed.

─────────────────────────

Arriving at your floor, the three of you walked into the doors and towards the staff meeting in your bosses office.

"Robin, if the most beautiful woman in the world acted the way you did, any normal partner would still go running in the other direction." You said.

"Oh, no. Nobody would go running from you, Y/N. You could barf all over them and they would say 'Do it again.'" Robin replied.

"That is both incredibly disgusting and categorically untrue. If I did the things you did, I'd get dumped too." You said as you three entered your bosses office and sat in the main area's couch, joining all your other coworkers.

"Okay, family, shoes off..." Your boss Linda entered the room and sat in a chair that faced everybody. Your coworkers, including yourself, proceeded to remove their shoes. "And breathe." She said as everybody inhaled.

"And out." Everybody exhaled.

"Okay Michelle let's start with you." Linda said.

"Well, the "Botox For Beginners" piece is done. Now, it's a little scary, but mostly upbeat. Now I'm on "What your Gyno Won't Tell You," which is also pretty scary but you know, upbeat. I finished my research on "deadly pedicures," about the woman who contracted that fungus from the unsterilized tools. It's a terrible story.. although surprisingly..." Michelle looked towards her boss and noticed her "terrible story" mistake.

"Upbeat." Nancy finished.

"Marvelous. What's next for "How-To with Y/N?" Linda asked. Now all eyes were on you.

"Well, I've been working on something that's kind of different." You said as your boss nodded confused.

"It's.. it's a political piece and it's-"

"No. Y/N. you work at Composure magazine. We are fashion, trends, diets, cosmetic surgeries, salacious gossip, that's Composure." Linda said.

"Okay, but-"

"Look, Y/N, okay. The column is new for you. When you turn it into a must read then you can write about whatever you want. Until then you can write about what I want. Understood?"

"Yeah." You said dissatisfied. You saw this coming. Your boss wouldn't let you write about what you wanted but hearing that once your column gets popular she'd let you write about whatever you wanted certainly catches your attention.

"Robin, what have you got?"

Nancy turned to Robin and gave her an encouraging nod. But there was an awkward silence waiting for Robin to answer.

"Um. I'm sorry, Linda. I wasn't feeling very well" Robin said as she looked at the ground not wanting to see the looks shared amongst others and the disappointed look on Linda's face.

"She got dumped." Nancy quickly added.

"Oh, no, Robin. What a hellish ordeal for you. But I gotta say, you are looking fabulous. Are we loving the way she looks?" Linda said, turning to the others trying to lift up the mood.

"We love the way she looks."

"Oh, you are so right."

"She looks great."

"She looks so great!"

Everyone said as they talked over one another.

"I haven't eaten since the split." Robin said.

"Good for you! Write about it."

You looked at your boss very judgmental. Obviously Robin feels uncomfortable throughout this entire conversation.

"I can't use my personal life for a story." Robin said as she lifted her head and was now looking at Linda.

"I understand completely... who will use Robin's personal life for a story?" Linda ignored Robin's protest and looked at the other workers.

"Oh I will." Michelle said proudly as she raised her hand.

"No, no, no! Linda, with all due respect, Michelle has no business mucking around in my personal life, and I can't... I can't let her. I'm-"

"I'll do it." You suddenly interrupted a rambling, distressed Robin. Of course you wouldn't actually put the heartbreak of your best friend's life in a magazine for the whole world to see but knowing Michelle and Linda, they obviously won't respect Robin's boundaries anytime soon.

Nancy and Robin both turned to you. "What?" Robin blurted out.

"I'll... I will sort of do it. It's- You will be my inspiration." You said looking at Robin.

"For?" Linda asked.

"Look at robin. She's a great girl, right?" You pointed towards Robin looking straight at your boss.

"Yes." Linda replied.

"An amazing woman." You said now looking at Robin. "But.. she has a problem hanging onto relationships and she doesn't really know what she's doing wrong, which is a lot like our readers."

"Uh-huh" Linda nodded for you to proceed.

"So, I was thinking that.. I could start dating a guy, and then drive him away, but only using the classic mistakes most women, like Robin.." You gave her a sincere look and turned back to your boss "make.. all the time. I'll keep a diary of it and.. it will be sort of a dating how-to in reverse." You said looking at Robin and Nancy who were now chuckling.

"What not to do." Your boss says smiling.

"Yeah." You smiled back.

"How to lose a guy in Ten Days." Linda said, looking at the wall, probably envisioning it in her head. "Yes. Go. Alice, what's new in the shoe?"

"Wait, wait, Linda. I'm sorry. Why ten days?" You asked.

"Five days is too short and we go to press at 11. Yes?" Linda turned her attention to Alice.

"Ten." You whispered to yourself. It's a lot longer than what you had hoped for given you only did this to save Robin from humiliation and to stop her from actually hiding under her covers for the rest of her life but then you remembered what Linda had said about you being able to write about whatever you wanted if your column made it big. Could this possibly be a ticket there?

You looked back at Robin and Nancy who nodded in approval and Robin mouthed the words "Thank you". You smiled at them with the big question flying around in your head. You were in for a long ride.

─────────────────────────

"Maybe toss in something spiritual as well." Linda said to Nancy walking towards the lobby with you and Robin right behind them.

"Ah, here's my ten o' clock. Welcome." Linda said as you all followed her as she walked towards a blonde and a brunette who seemed to be waiting for her.

"Hi." The blonde said with a smile.

"Ladies, Chrissy Cunningham and Victoria Green from Warren Advertising. We're going to cook up some fabulous tie-ins for the fall." Linda said, turning to you, Nancy, and Robin.

"Nancy Wheeler, Fashion and Trends. Robin Buckley, Fitness and Health." She said as Robin loudly blew her nose.

"Excuse me. Hi." Robin interrupted.

"And Y/N L/N our resident How-To girl." Linda continued.

"Oh, I've seen your column, Y/N. What are you working on now?" Chrissy said as she pointed at you.

"Oh-" You began but you were quickly interrupted by Linda.

"How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days. She's actually going to start dating a guy and then drive him away in a week and a half." Linda said proudly as her, Chrissy, and Victoria started laughing.

"Sounds needlessly vicious." Victoria added.

"It's going to be fabulous. Now all she has to do is run along and find the lucky guy." She said turning to you. "Go, go, go." She pointed towards the exit and turned back to the two girls.

You, Nancy, and Robin both started walking towards the exit.

"Nice to meet you." You said to the two girls.

"Ladies come." Linda said as all three of their footsteps started to reside.

You grabbed Robin's shoulder from behind. "Find the guy. Find the guy." You said distressed.

"Okay." you whispered to yourself.

─────────────────────────

"Oh you are never going to pull this off." Robin said as you, Nancy, and Robin walked across the street towards a bar, arms linked with Robin. Moonlight reflecting on your dresses and Robin’s suit.

You put on a cute grey dress with enough cleavage to be shown but to still keep the guys wondering what you looked like with your top off. Matched with high heels and a cute purse. Normally you wouldn't wear this out especially to a bar but tonight, you were on a man hunt.

"Watch me. Tonight I'll hook a guy. Tomorrow, pull the switch. Before the ten days are up, I'm gonna have this guy running for his life." You replied as all three of you laughed.

"You're not gonna burn his apartment down or bite him or anything, are you?" Nancy asked.

"No. I'm gonna limit myself to doing everything girls do wrong in relationships. Basically, everything we know guys hate. I'll be clingy, needy."

"Be touchy-feely." Nancy added.

"Yeah." You said walking towards the bar's entrance.

"Ooh. Call him in the middle of the night and tell him everything you had to eat that day." Nancy said as you both chuckled.

"What's wrong with that?" Robin asked, looking at you both. You both looked at her with concern.

"I'm.. kidding" She then said.

─────────────────────────

A waitress escorted Chrissy, Victoria, and Mr. Harrington towards a table.

"There we are. He's waiting." The kind waitress pointed at Eddie waiting for them at a table.

"Hello, Eddie. What are you doing here" Mr. Harrington asked.

"Tom, I'm here for the meeting. Ladies." Eddie replied as stood up, shaking Tom's hand and nodded towards the girls.

"But you weren't invited." Victoria said.

"Yeah, but I should have been. I mean, It was my tip that DeLauer was shopping for a new firm." Eddie said as he passed by Chrissy standing in front of Tom.

"Yes, it was, but I have to think in terms of who's best suited within the company." Tom said, looking at both Chrissy and Victoria.

"Yes, sir, and that's me. I wanna handle this pitch." Eddie replied as Chrissy chuckled.

"Eddie, you sell Joe Blow better than anyone else in my shop, including Steve, but these girls sell luxury better than anyone else in the business." Tom said proudly as he gestured towards both the girls.

All four of them sat down as Tom proceeded.

"We have to put our best foot forward on this pitch. DeLauer would be our biggest account."

"Yes, sir, they would. Annual advertising billings of 50 to 60 million dollars. And I am the man that's gonna bring this home for you, Tom." Eddie said as he poured himself a glass of champagne.

─────────────────────────

"Why this place?" Robin asked as you three entered the bar.

"Because it's perfect." You said grabbing onto Robin's shoulders and giving her a squeeze and walking further into the bar.

"Mullins is the apres-work watering hole for the upwardly mobile." Nancy added with her smart ass vocabulary.

─────────────────────────

"Now, to date, the diamond industry has always targeted men..." Eddie said as he poured champagne for Chrissy, Victoria, and Tom as he continued. "Sending the message that the woman needs the man to buy her the rock. All right, they say 'A diamond is forever.' We say, 'A diamond is for everyone.'"

"I like that." Tom said grinning towards Eddie.

"Yes." Eddie says confidently.

"Uh. We don't." Chrissy said laughingly. "'A diamond is for everyone?' It sends the message that diamonds are everywhere. Which means that they're not rare, and if they're not rare, they lose their status." Chrissy said while looking directly at Eddie.

Eddie rolled his eyes as Chrissy continued. "Status is the reason to buy them in the first place, which Edward would know if he understood women, which you don't." Chrissy finished as they all laughed at Eddie, including himself. Not because of what she said, but the fact that she's so confident with her words.

"You can't feel bad about that, Eddie. No man does." Tom said grinning.

─────────────────────────

"Here. Here." Robin said as she handed both you and Nancy a Martini.

"Dum, dum, dum, dum." Nancy mimicked a clock ticking while looking around the bar. You honestly forgot the real reason you were here for a second.

"Don't pressure her. She's perusing." Robin said, looking directly at Nancy.

"Yes, exactly." You said as all three of you scanned the room.

─────────────────────────

"Selling a diamond to a woman is like making her fall in love." Victoria said to Tom while dragging her fingers along her long diamond necklace starting from her neck to her cleavage.

Eddie scoffed but smiled at this knowing exactly what game Victoria was trying to play at.

"She has to feel giddy, desirous, adventurous and desperate." Victoria continued.

"Take a look around this room Tom. Most women in this bar are looking for just that." Chrissy added.

"Exactly. The skills required to market diamonds are the same as those needed to make a woman fall in love, yes." Eddie said, interrupting Chrissy.

"I'm not talking about lust Eddie. A woman in lust just wants chocolate. A woman in love wants diamonds."

"Yeah, I'm not talking about lust either, ladies. I'm talking about deep.. meaningful, head-over-heels, his-and-her towels, let's grow old together L-O-V-E. Look, I love women. I do. Whether they're four or 40."

Chrissy sighed at his little speech. Looking around the room she spots you.

"I respect women. All right. And I also listen to women." Eddie continued.

Chrissy's still staring at you. You're laughing at something your short hair friend said and she slowly gets an idea.

"And that's why I can sell myself to any woman.. anywhere, anytime." Eddie finished.

"Make a woman fall in love with diamonds, Edward.. or with you?" Chrissy asked, moving her attention from you to Eddie.

"Uh. Either one." Eddie replied slightly hesitating looking at Tom.

"That's cocky, Eddie." Tom said while drinking his champagne.

"No, not cocky. Confident."

Chrissy laughs at this. "I'd like to see you prove that." Chrissy said, raising her eyebrows at him.

"You would?" Eddie questioned looking at Chrissy then at Tom.

"The agency's co hosting a party for the DeLauers at the Astro museum. The party's a week from Sunday. Do you think you can make a woman fall in love with you by then?" Chrissy challenged Eddie.

"Ten days?" Eddie asked.

"Any woman, anywhere, anytime?" Victoria added mocking him from before.

"Any single, available, straight woman, yes." Eddie said.

"Yes. I'm not trying to trick you, Eddie. In fact, we'll choose a woman right here, right now in this bar. And then you'll decide." Chrissy said as Her, Victoria, and Tom laughed.

"So who's the lucky girl?" Eddie said as he adjusted himself in his seat to face the rest of the bar.

"Okay. Let's see here." Victoria began. "Ooh there's that blonde babe in the leopard print." Victoria said as she laughed and pointed to a woman with a messy pointy tail in a leopard dress that was worn out and way too tight on her.

Tom and Chrissy joined in on her laughter. "She looks like fun." Victoria added.

"Be nice, ladies." Eddie said as a little chuckle escaped his lips.

"Or, well, Miss Babylon 5. Now she's on the prowl." Victoria said talking about a curl headed curl with colored hair and mean stare.

"No. Her." Chrissy said.

"Her who?" Eddie asked as he turned to look at Chrissy.

"Her in the grey dress, cute hair, pretty smile." Chrissy added.

Eddie turned away from her looking around the bar for Chrissy's description, then he saw you. Laughing at something a curly headed girl next to you said. Eddie smiled as he saw you laughing.

"Her?" Victoria asked as she removed her gaze from you to Chrissy. Chrissy only held a finger to her mouth not sparing her a word.

Eddie was still staring at you, you're now laughing at something else another short haired girl says.

"Done." Eddie says not removing his gaze from you.

"What?" Chrissy asked.

"Done." He confirmed again, finally looking away from you and now looking at Tom.

"Done." Tom said as he nodded.

─────────────────────────

"See the guy next to the horrible guy in the green shirt that I would never even consider?" You said pointing at a guy with short curly hair, wearing a blue button up shirt with a black blazer over it.

"Very cute." Nancy said.

"Right? Good." You chuckled and squealed, making you way over to the cute stranger leaving Robin and Nancy together.

"Oh." Robin said as her and Nancy chuckled at your cute excitement.

─────────────────────────

"Okay, you're on. But here are the stakes. After I win this bet, this pitch is mine." Eddie said, looking at all three of them.

"Agreed." Chrissy added.

"Tom?" Questioned Eddie.

"Agreed." Tom said as he nodded. "You come to that party with a girl that's really in love with you, Eddie, you can make the pitch to the DeLauers."

"But, Tom, you can't-" Victoria was cut off by Tom.

"Nope. I've made up my mind." Tom said, raising his glass. "To the DeLauers."

"To the DeLauers." Eddie said, clinking his beer bottle to Tom's glass.

"Cheers" Chrissy and Victoria said, raising their own glasses towards Eddie's bottle and Tom's glass.

─────────────────────────

Nancy and Robin are laughing at how adorable you look laughing at whatever bad joke the guy next to you said.

"I was just wondering if you found..." You said talking to the cute stranger next to you making eye contact with your friends.

"She doesn't seem that interested." Robin said to Nancy who only hummed in reply.

"Exciting." You said looking at the guy in front of you.

"Yes. My wife and I love Indianapolis, especially this time of year." Oh shit, he has a wife. How did you not notice the ring on his finger? What do you do? What do you do?

"She'd been here before and I-" He'd been cut-off by a brunette wearing a pink and white dress grabbing onto his shoulder giving you the smile.

"Hi. Hi." She said, now showing her pearly whites.

You felt so awkward and wanted to leave.

"This is Y/N" The guy introduced you to his wife.

"Hi. Um." You said standing up while grabbing your martini. While his wife took the spot you were just leaning on. "You guys enjoy Indianapolis." You said slowly backing away.

"Okay." The guy said chuckling

"Thanks" The wife said straightforwardly.

"Nice meeting you." The guy said as you walked away, not even passing them a second glance.

Walking away, you glanced at your friends who were already staring at you, presumably the entire time, you mouthed "he's married" holding up your hand.

─────────────────────────

"Good luck." Tom said, patting Eddie's shoulder as he walked by him.

"Thank you, Tom." Eddie said as he left, leaving him with Chrissy and Victoria. Eddie took out a 50 and put it on the table paying for their drinks. "Now if you'll excuse me, ladies.. I have a bet to win." Eddie said, turning around and immediately looking for you.

"Ta-ta" Chrissy said as Eddie walked away.

"Now do you wanna tell me what's going on?" Victoria asked Chrissy.

"You don't recognize her?" Chrissy asked as they both stared at you.

─────────────────────────

Eddie pushed himself through the sea filled with people and began walking towards you. He smiled when he could finally reach you.

─────────────────────────

"Hi!" A man with long black curly hair walked up to you, stopping you in your tracks. He had bangs that framed his face perfectly and was wearing black jeans with a black blazer to pair it.

"Hi." You replied back with a slight smile.

"Hi." He said looking at the top of your head to your eyes. He had the biggest pair of brown eyes you'd ever seen.

You chuckled and waited for him to say something but he only chuckled back. He was obviously nervous so you tried to make it less awkward. You extended your hand with the little space that was between you both.

"Y/N L/N"

"Eddie Munson" He said as he gently took his hand in yours and shook it.

"Cute."

"Thank you." Eddie replied.

"Mm I meant your name." You said, offering him a closed smile. He looked away and smiled when he looked at you again.

"Thank you two times."

"Unattached?" You asked.

"Currently." He answered.

"Likewise."

"Surprising."

"Psycho?" You questioned.

"Rarely."

"Hmm."

"Interested?" Eddie asked.

"Perhaps." You looked away but then looked back at him.

"Hungry?"

"Starving." You said looking deep in his chocolate eyes.

"Leaving?"

"Now?" You asked.

"Mm-hmm."

"Okay."

"Okay." He replied.

"One second." You said pointing a finger and walked past him.

"I'll meet you at the door." He said loudly.

─────────────────────────

"Hey, guys." You said now standing in front of Nancy and Robin

"I think I got one."

"He was married!" Robin said.

"No, not him. It's the guy by the door. But don't look!" It was already too late, their eyes were scanning the door. "No, guys!"

Eddie smiled at your friends who were both staring right at him.

"He is really cute." Nancy said as they both looked at you again.

"I'm gonna check this one out and see if he's the keeper." You said as you handed Nancy your martini.

"Okay." Nancy replied.

"And if he is?" Robin questioned.

"Tomorrow night I'll.."

"Flip the switch" Nancy finished your sentence as she took a sip of your martini.

"I'm doing this for you." You said directly to Robin handing her your apartment keys

"Well, good luck. Be safe. Call me!" Robin said as you walked towards Eddie.

"Mm. Drama, drama, drama." Nancy said as her and Robin watched Eddie gently hold you by the waist and open the door for you.

Chrissy and Victoria, on the other side of the bar, were also watching the entire interaction and smirking at one another, clinking their glasses together knowing that you and Eddie were both secretly playing each other and how badly this was bound to end.

Authors note; If you enjoyed this please leave some feedback and consider reblogging! It would meant a lot. Thank you so much for reading! <3

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galexystern · 1 year ago

Text

i can see you (foolish one) - 18+

pairing; eddie munson/fem!reader

rating; E

warnings; smut (MDNI), fluff, angst, casual sex, no strings attached, jealousy, oral sex, cunnilingus, blowjob, p in v sex, fingering, porn with plot, porn with feelings, honestly more feelings than porn sorry

word count; 10.6k

desc; as the opener on corroded coffin's world tour, you and eddie start a casual relationship. but can you keep your feelings from getting in the way? songfic of taylor swift's "i can see you" and "foolish one"

a/n; loosely inspired by cinemamunson's "you give love a bad name" ♥ edited 10/16/23

read on ao3 / masterlist

It was a dream come true. Being the opener on a national tour that stopped in every major city over the course of a year was all you'd been wishing for since you were seven years old and picked up your first guitar. Everything about it was exciting: the bus, the fans, even the paparazzi that surrounded every door you came in and out of. To be fair, they weren't exactly waiting for you, but you were there too, so it was almost the same thing in your mind.

There was just one problem...and here it comes now.

"Alright, princess?" Rockstar, guitarist extraordinaire, and overall heartthrob Eddie Munson says as he passes you coming offstage. "Crowd ready for us?"

As mentioned, the lead singer and guitarist for the tour's headliner is the problem. It's not because he's rude, or crass, or insulting. He's never touched you inappropriately or said anything untoward. He treats everyone around him with respect and gets concerned about the smallest things that could be affecting his crew. He's generous, kind, and sweet.

That's the problem—he's the ultimate dreamboat. You're falling under his spell like all the other girls he comes into contact with. You'd really wanted to hate him, only because you'd had a crush on him before this tour even started, ever since you'd become a fan of Corroded Coffin, and you were hoping he'd have that typical rockstar bad attitude that would erase that crush from existence. Instead, he's the ideal man and your feelings have only grown.

You nod, feeling exhilarated yet again from another electric opening set. "Oh, they're ready."

"Bring it on." His smile dazzles you. "Great set by the way."

"Thanks," you breathe out, and he winks before he and the other members of Corroded Coffin walk onstage to deafening screams. Someone hands you a water bottle and you guzzle it down, trying to get your breath back from both the set and Eddie's wink.

Oh, there is one more issue: the flirting.

Even if he deserves all the hype and love he gets on a daily basis, you'd been sure that he wouldn't give you the time of day. Sure, his band had picked you to be their opener, which is a pretty great indicator they like you, but that could just be your music. It complements theirs and they'd wanted to make sure a female artist got the opportunity over another "stupid male diva," as they'd said in their initial meeting with you. But that didn't mean that the members would actually pay attention or talk to you in any way. You kind of thought they'd ignore you and your crush would slowly fade over time.

Instead, the band has made sure you've become their friend...and Eddie has been flirting on-and-off with you since the beginning.

That meeting you'd had with the band and your managers had revealed an initial spark between you two that has just been fanned into a raging fire by winks, smirks, cheesy pick-up lines, and dirty jokes. You can't help it; he makes it easy to talk with him, easy to return his flirting. In fact, you're never been more comfortable than when you're with him, in whatever capacity—lounging, eating, warming up. And you're with him more often than not, since the band seemingly love having you around and seek you out whenever they can. He even attends your sound checks and always makes sure to watch your opening set, despite surely having better things to do, or at least things his management would like him to be doing instead. But he ignores them, all so he can compliment you after every show.

Okay, he probably doesn't do it just to compliment you. But he is always there, because he's somehow the most amazing guy ever created.

All this runs through your head as you watch Corroded Coffin's set from backstage, hydrating and bouncing your head to the rhythm of their catchy songs. You'd always loved their stuff, and now you can hear them in person every night. Like you'd said—dream come true.

Eddie turns his head after finishing a verse and locks eyes with you. He gives you another wink and a brilliant smile before diving into the chorus with the rest of the band. You sigh dreamily.

Fuck.

;

"You think we're alone in the universe?"

You shake your head vehemently to Gareth's question as you chew the last dregs of your potato chips. Eddie raises an eyebrow at your response and you hold up a finger so you can swallow. They all wait patiently.

You're having a late, unhealthy dinner with Corroded Coffin as you speed towards the next scheduled city. You'd been forced to go right after the show due to the location's distance and earlier-than-usual sound check tomorrow. You're all lounging on the couches, having devoured In-N-Out and a whole bunch of vending machine snacks, which management had given you as consolation for the long trip. It's dark and quiet for the most part, the only light emerging when you pass street lamps. They shine across Eddie's face, across from you, highlighting his plump lips and intense eyes, and make the silver rings on his hands shine brightly.

"We can't be," you finally reply, crumpling your bag and tossing it into one of the empty takeout bags. When you make it, Jeff gives you a high-five. "In our entire universe? Nah, there's gotta be aliens out there."

Eddie smirks, and it makes butterflies go off in your stomach. But Grant is the one who speaks. "Then why haven't they communicated with us?"

Jeff beats you to it. "Have you met us? Who would want to meet us?"

Everyone laughs. "Exactly," you say after a giggle. "We're not ready yet."

"When will we be ready?" Eddie muses, still staring at you. Speechless, you just shrug.

"We've yet to reach warp capabilities," Grant points out.

"And, without warp, we can't reach warp 10 and turn into giant lizards as the evolution of the human race," you add, and Eddie snorts unexpectedly. You smile at him and he shakes his head.

"Good reference," Jeff commends and you incline your head in acknowledgement.

"You sure you don't wanna join our D&D campaign, angel?" Eddie teases, bringing up a topic he's been nagging you about endlessly. You'd been refusing his offers to join their group for a while now. It's not that you wouldn't be into it—you'd never played before, but it didn't seem hard, and you do like fantasy—but more that it'd just be more Eddie, and you're not sure your emotions can handle even more time in his presence.

You shake your head no. "You know I'm a sci-fi girl at heart."

Eddie waves a hand. "Same thing."

"They are not!" You laugh. It's a familiar argument, and he grins at your response.

The bus slows and exits the highway, pausing your conversation. You all fall silent, looking out the windows at the city's lights as you approach your hotel for the night. Exhaustion finally sinks in and you yawn, looking forward to a nice, cool bed that you can curl up in. All alone, you add as you catch Eddie's gaze and he gives you those bedroom eyes that make your thighs clench together.

You come to a stop in front of a nice hotel, thankfully void of reporters and fans—probably too late for them—and step out into the breezy night air. You trudge into the lobby, dead on your feet, and wait for someone to check in and hand you door keys. Taking yours, you follow the boys into the elevator and ride up with them. Down the hallway you stop first, and they wave at you before continuing. You watch them stop at two doors, Jeff and Grant going into one and Gareth going into another. Eddie pauses at the threshold.

You can see him waiting down the hall from you, and as he looks back at you, you have a vision of him up against the wall with you, holding you up as he sucks marks into your neck and you hold him closer with your hands in his hair and your legs around his waist, his hands digging into your ass and his crotch thrusting against you. You flush at the fantasy and blink a few times to get rid of it. You fall back into the present to see Eddie smirking at you now. He cheekily salutes you before disappearing into his room.

You dart into your own and close the door quickly. Taking deep breaths, you try to calm your racing heart. You feel wet and hot and bothered. There's only two solutions: get off or take a shower. Briefly imagining touching yourself with Eddie just down the hall, moaning his name so he might be able to hear it, you eventually shake your head and head for the bathroom.

;

A few days later, in yet another city after yet another fantastic show, someone suggests going out to a bar. You're all down, and while it does take an hour or so for management to find and approve a venue protection-wise, it gives you time to get all dolled up. You dress up for your sets of course, but now you really go in with your makeup and hair, knowing you won't get all messed up and sweaty. You also choose a good outfit you'd never wear onstage, because you like to breathe and walk while performing. You know your heels might give you blisters but you think it'll be worth it.

And it is, when you step out of the elevator and Eddie sucks in a breath through his teeth as his eyes rove over your face and body. You will back a blush but can't stop your underwear from going damp when you see the desire written across his expression.

"Wow, you look great!" Jeff exclaims. The rest of the boys echo him, Eddie a little belatedly.

"Thank you," you giggle, curtseying a little bit.

Security then comes over and herds you all through the doors and into a black SUV. The boys let you go first, and Eddie stretches out his hand to help you up, which you take gratefully. You settle in the back and, you're surprised and nervous when Eddie follows and sits next to you. Jeff and Grant sit in the middle and Gareth up front with the driver. The car leaves the parking lot behind the first SUV, which holds at least four security personnel.

In the dark of the backseat, you try to keep your heart from bursting out of your chest. Eddie doesn't look at or talk to you, staring out the window instead. But his hand is perilously close to your thigh and inching closer. You keep glancing at it as it nears you, keeping your own hands balled in your lap.

Eventually his fingertip brushes your skin and you let out a quiet exhale. He turns to you then, and though you can barely see him, you can tell his eyes are half-lidded and hungry. His hand keeps going, and his palm slides up the side of your thigh to stop on top of it. He rests it there gently, letting you push him away, but you wouldn't dare. His touch is electrifying and sending shivers down your body. You're sure he can feel the goosebumps that flare across your thigh.

He clenches the fat of your thigh in his grip tightly and you jolt. But it's not from his hand; the car is stopping abruptly. You and Eddie both look out the window and see you're parked in front of a seedy bar somewhere downtown. Jeff and Grant are already climbing out.

When they pull the seat down, Eddie has his hand to himself again. You're positive there's a handprint left on your thigh from the burn his touch left inside you, but when you look down, it's perfectly clear. You take a deep breath and slide out of the car slowly, again taking Eddie's outstretched hand to help you down. Neither of you move once you're safely on the ground, gazing at each other with just the tiniest bit of space between you.

Then someone is slamming their door closed and Eddie is stepping away and your hand is being dropped. Eddie strolls into the establishment with Gareth, not looking back at you, and you stare at them leaving blankly. A security guard motions for you to go as well, and so you stalk after them. If that's how he wants to play it after that car ride, you're game.

You breeze in like nothing is wrong, keeping your face neutral. You walk straight up to the bar and order a tequila shot, throwing it back as soon as it's in front of you. When asked for payment, you tell them coolly that you're with the band and order a gin and tonic. They hop to it, already knowing Corroded Coffin is there, and you must be with them if you do too. Seconds later, you're given the drink and you thank them before spinning around and surveying the scene.

There's a bit of a dance floor, moderately filled. Rock is being played through speakers and people are grinding against each other; it's exactly what you wanted to see. You suck down the rest of your cocktail, feeling that pleasant buzz that comes with tipsiness, and then weave through the crowd. You search out a good spot and find one with the added bonus of a cute guy, dancing alone.

You strut up to him and let him take you in—his eyes go wide and he gulps—before asking, "Wanna dance?"

He nods immediately and you step closer to him, resting your arms around his neck and waiting for him to place his around your waist before starting to move. He matches your tempo well and you two sway together as the music plays. You hum along to the familiar melody—it's automatic.

A couple of songs pass, and your mystery partner asks, "Can I kiss you?"

You nod in response, so he dips forward and catches your lips with his. It's okay—not enough pressure, too much spit—but it's a good distraction, so you let it keep going. You make out for a few minutes, quality not really getting better but not worse, but then someone is tapping you on the shoulder. You break from the kiss and look over your shoulder to find Grant behind you. He has an apologetic expression.

"We're leaving," he shouts.

"We just got here!" You reply.

Grant just shrugs. "You have to come with us." At your raised eyebrow, he continues, "Security said so."

You roll your eyes and turn back to your make-out partner, telling him you have to go. He asks for your number but you shake your head. "I had fun!" You say to his bewildered face before whirling around and stomping out of the bar. The boys are already in the car, so you slide into the passenger seat.

As the SUV glides away from the curb, you look into the back and ask a silent question to Jeff, who's sitting behind you. He shrugs and points to the very back, where you spot Eddie, jaw clenched and seething, staring out the window moodily.

You turn back around with a huff and let your annoyance fester as you drive back to the hotel. Once you've arrived, you hop out and go inside before the boys can even get out, and the elevator doors close as they're walking across the lobby. Before they shut completely, you glimpse Eddie's face: dark, unhappy, and...a little jealous?

On the tenth floor, you walk quickly to your room, get in, and shut the door behind you. You listen as the boys pass by, and then as their own doors close, breathe out a sigh of relief.

But you relax too soon. A minute later, there's a knock on your door.

You start to open it slowly, but it swings ajar and Eddie storms in angrily. You look into the hallway but it's empty; Eddie is alone. You close the door, turning around and resting against it, and stare at him. He's pacing the floor with his hands balled into fists.

You think about being nice but the irritation of being forced to leave the bar early is still inside you, so instead you sneer, "Who died and made you the prince of darkness?"

At your voice, he whips his head to you and you're frozen in place by his heated stare. Then he stalks towards you until he's almost flush against you, and slams his hands on the door on either side of your head. You couldn't move if you wanted to, and you definitely don't.

"Think you're funny, angel?" He asks lowly, and your underwear grows embarrassingly wetter.

"I think I'm hilarious," you shoot back lightly.

He bares his teeth in a wicked grin. "Oh, so you know what you were doing?" He places a leg in between yours and presses it against your clothed cunt. It's a delicious pressure, but you don't give him the satisfaction of grinding against it.

"Yeah," you retort, "I was dancing."

"And kissing," he spits out.

"What's it to you?" You arch an eyebrow. When he doesn't reply, just keeps gazing at you with fiery eyes, you smirk. "Oh...was the great Eddie Munson jealous?" He scoffs, but you can see his Adam's apple move with his slow swallow. "You were!" You say triumphantly.

"So what if I was?" He taunts. "What would you do about it?"

Now you swallow. "I don't know."

"I do." He moves impossibly closer, his mouth just hairs away from yours.

"But we've kept everything professional," you breathe.

"Something changed," he replies simply, his tongue darting out to lick his lips and just barely brushing against yours. You meet his stare and find eyes filled with lust, desire, and yes, jealousy. He looks absolutely ravenous for you, and you're tired of pretending you don't feel the same.

So you smirk a little. "I like it." Then you surge up to kiss him.

He groans into your mouth, cupping your head in his hands to keep you from moving away. You clutch his waist tightly, making him dig his leg further against you. There's delicious friction against you and you thrust against his thigh to keep it going. He encourages it by grabbing your hips and helping you grind rhythmically. You slide your own hands up his toned arms, squeezing slightly, before wrapping them around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair.

His tongue forces your mouth open and dives inside, and you let him. It's only until you need precious oxygen that you break the kiss, and he immediately moves his lips down your neck, leaving wet, hot kisses in their wake.

"I saw us," you say deliriously. Eddie nips your skin with his teeth, and you understand it's a request for more, so you clarify, "I saw you up against the wall with me, like this."

He practically growls and sucks a deep mark, making you moan. When he leans back, he smiles wickedly. "I've been watching you for ages, sweetheart. You won't believe half the things I see inside my head."

Looking up at him, dazed, you have enough presence of mind to reply, "Wait till you see half the things that haven't happened yet."

His eyes darken further and he moves his leg away from you. Before you can whine, he's placing his hands on your thighs and lifting you, making you hook your legs around his waist. Then he carries you to the bed, turning so he's the one against it, and sits. The action makes you drop against his crotch and he groans at the pressure against his hard cock. You kiss him again to keep him quiet, but it just riles him up, making you keep thrusting into him, soaking your panties further.

You two make out for a few minutes, just exploring each other hungrily, before you pry your lips from his. He tries to chase after them and you giggle, which makes him open his eyes. Your breath hitches at the lust you see swimming in them, knowing yours match.

You tap his hands to let you go, but he shakes his head. "Come on," you coo, "I promise it'll be worth it." He reluctantly releases his grip and you slide from his lap to kneel on the floor. Looking up at him, trying to project innocence, you smile benevolently.

"Fuck me," he groans at the sight.

You pout. "Later. Right now, I'm trying to suck you." You pinch his jeans and command, "Off."

He scrambles to comply, unbuttoning and pushing them down his legs, including his boxers. Your gaze is magnetized to the large, rock-hard cock that bounces free and slaps against his shirt. He realizes how unsexy that must look, because he then pulls his shirt over his head. His dick smears pre-cum across his revealed abs, firm and beautiful.

You hum approvingly and smooth your hands up his thighs. He watches you, enraptured, as you get closer and finally run your fingertips along his length. You smirk at his shiver, sitting up on your knees and leaning forward, using your hand to bring his cock to your mouth and kitten-licking the tip. He just about chokes, and so you go further, sticking out your tongue and swirling it around the head. You moan at the taste of his pre-cum and he breathes shakily.

Done with teasing and ready to get on with the show, you then place your whole mouth around his cock and take it deep. "Shit, angel," Eddie swears. You look up at him—his head is thrown back and his hands are fisted in the comforter. It's intoxicating, the feeling of being able to destroy him so thoroughly, and so you indulge.

You suck his cock to the best of your ability, which must be pretty damn good based on the sounds he lets out. At one point, you grab his hand and maneuver it to rest on your head. He gets the hint and clutches your hair tightly. The pull makes you moan, and he jerks at the vibration on his cock. You let him take control, crossing your hands behind your back, and he slowly, gently, fucks himself into your mouth. You focus on your breathing, letting drool drip down his dick and your jaw. He doesn't look away from you and you don't look away from him.

Eventually, he pulls you off completely and you swallow the accumulated spit. He sighs shakily, running a hand through his hair. You grin at him, face shiny, and he pleads, "Come here, baby." You stand and step between his legs. He marvels at you. "You're so beautiful."

You duck your head in flattered embarrassment, but he grabs your chin and forces you to look back at him again. "I mean it," he insists. "Prettiest girl I ever saw."

You must be flaming red by now, but you smile. "Thank you," you whisper, voice barely there.

Eddie grins. "Wanna get my mouth on you, angel. That okay?"

You nod eagerly and he chuckles. He backs you up so he can stand, switches your positions, and helps you lay on the bed, climbing over you. You giggle when his hair tickles your face.

His fingers go to your dress's hem and you help him lift it over your head. You reach behind you and unclip your bra, letting it fall from your body. Eddie tosses it behind him, stare stuck on your newly revealed breasts. "Perfect," he breathes, before leaning down and kissing you again. It's soft this time, and doesn't last that long before he's moving down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, to your tits. When he takes a nipple in his mouth and suckles it gently, you gasp.

With that, the mood switches back to urgent, and he presses harder. One hand wraps around your neglected nipple as his teeth come out to play and bite teasingly at your skin. You arch your back against him, digging your hands into his hair to keep him torturing you so exquisitely, and he eagerly obeys. When he switches sides, his hands disappear in between your bodies and deftly pull down your underwear, leaving you as bare as him.

You whine when he moves away from your tits, and he shoots you a cheeky grin. He slides down your body, pressing kisses anywhere he can reach. When he arrives at your cunt, he spreads your legs and delights in how you've reacted to his ministrations over the night.

"Baby girl is just weeping for me, isn't she?" He teases, swiping a finger through your lips to collect some wetness and bring it to his mouth. You watch with hazy eyes as he wraps his lips around it and sucks it clean, moaning at the taste. "Knew you would be so sweet, honey," he says. "Like a peach." He dips his head down again and you gasp as he noses against you deeply, tongue darting out but never staying in one place for too long.

"Eddie," you whimper, "stop teasing."

He looks up at you, lower half of his face soaked. "But teasing you is so much fun," he replies with a grin. "And you teased me all night."

"Didn't mean to," you insist softly.

He pouts. "No?" You shake your head.

"In that case..." He grips your thighs and spreads them further. He looks at you with a sinful smile and then leans down and presses his tongue against your cunt, making you moan. He licks fervently, quickly finding your clit and sucking it harshly. Your hips buck from the bed and his hands go to them to hold you down. He doesn't let you move as he torments you in the best way, truly at his mercy now. One hand moves from your waist and strokes between your lips, a warning before he pushes it inside slowly.

It feels amazing but not enough, so you beg, "More, please." He listens and adds another finger, thrusting them quicker and quicker, curling them to brush that spot inside you can never seem to reach by yourself. At the feeling, you keen, and feel him grin against you.

Your climax is almost upon you, pussy clenching around Eddie's fingers to let him know. He keeps going at his rapid pace, tongue lightning fast on your clit, and a minute later you're tensing as the waves crash over you. He continues his movements, letting it the pleasure hit over and over until you're twitching from overstimulation. Slowly, he comes to a stop and looks up at you.

"That was gorgeous, sweetheart," he says as he lazily brings his body up yours. "Gotta be inside you, though. Wanna see you do that again on my cock."

You nod, feeling his dick resting against your lower stomach. He leans over for his jeans, pulling out a condom and ripping it open with his teeth. He hisses as he slides it on, and rubs through your wetness to coat it.

"Ready, baby?" He asks sweetly.

"Yes," you sigh dreamily, and he lines up. Pushing inside gradually, letting you adjust to the feeling of his cock splitting you open so well, you moan in tandem when he bottoms out.

"Better than I imagined," Eddie groans. He pulls out and then thrusts back in, starting a quick pace, hitting that spongy place inside you that makes you mewl every time. He rests on his elbows above you and you wrap your legs around his waist so he can go even deeper. He catches your lips with his and swallows all your moans. The gentle kiss is a contrast to his hard thrusts, and you lose your mind just a little.

"Oh my god," you whine when he places his forehead against yours.

"Shouldn't you be praying to me?" Eddie teases, but you can hear how close he is to finishing in his voice, brings you closer to the edge too. Sensing this, he says, "Alright, baby. You gonna cum for me?"

You nod helplessly, words stuck in your throat.

"Good," he soothes. "Go ahead, honey. Wanna feel it."

You do as you're told and careen into the bliss of your second orgasm. You pulse around his cock and his hips stutter, pressing inside you as far as he can to feel how you squeeze around him as the waves keep going. "Such a good girl," he groans, and the extra tight clench his words produce make him cum too. You feel him spill inside you hotly, and you moan tiredly at the last burst of pleasure it gives you.

Eddie kisses you again, this one lazy and sloppy, soothing as he slips out of you. He stands, getting rid of the condom and padding to the bathroom to wet a washcloth. He brings it back and gently cleans you, the warm fabric making you shiver. "Here, darling," he says softly, and you slide under the covers he lifts for you to cuddle under. He tosses the washcloth away after cleaning himself and slips in next to you.

You hum happily as he brings you close, tucking your head under his chin and wrapping his arms around you. He drops a kiss on the crown of your head.

"Night, beautiful," he murmurs, and you snuggle against him, drifting off to sleep.

;

The next day, you're reading in your dressing room when there's a knock at the door. Expecting it to be your manager to escort you to your sound check, you're surprised to find Eddie on the other side instead. You stand aside so he can enter, and shut the door behind him. He turns to you, half-smiling.

"Hey," he says, kind of awkwardly. It's a bit endearing. "About last night..."

You swallow nervously and nod. You'd woken up this morning alone in bed, sunlight streaming through the open curtains. You'd tried not to feel disappointed, but as you relived the previous night in the shower, remembering how sweet and gentle and kind he'd been, you'd grown increasingly hopeful his leaving had nothing to do with keeping you a secret and everything to do with anything else. You hadn't seen him or the rest of the band all day, as they'd been at sound check and you hadn't wanted to ambush Eddie.

But now he's in front of you, and you're about to hear the verdict.

"Is it okay if we..." You raise your eyebrows optimistically. "...keep it on the down-low?"

Your heart falls into your stomach and you try not to let your face do the same. Words stuck in your throat, you just nod with what you hope is a confident smile. This isn't a surprise, you think, as he seems to sigh in relief and shoots you a grateful smile. This is not a big deal, you think, as he walks up and kisses you, molding his lips to yours. This is fine, you think, as he leans back to look at you.

"Wanna keep seeing you, though," he adds, and you hate how your heart jumps back up in hope.

"Me too," you croak out. He hesitates but eventually grins.

"Great! Glad we're on the same page."

"Same." You know the smile on your face is strained but you don't know how to fix it. Thankfully, you don't have to, because then there's another knock on the door. As your manager steps in, Eddie steps back quickly and perches on the table nonchalantly. You force your hand to stay by your side and not reach for him, make him come back.

"Sound check," your manager chirps, looking up from her phone.

You tear your eyes from Eddie and look at her. You give her a tight nod and she walks out, leaving the door open. Eddie follows her, brushing his fingertips against the back of your hand and whispering, "See you tonight?"

You look at him, into those chocolate eyes, and see nothing more than distant expectation. You nod, telling him what he wants to hear, and he smirks. With that, he strolls out, unbothered by how he'd just broken your heart.

No. He did not just break your heart. You're not in love with him. This was expected. Eddie Munson is an über-famous, absurdly well-known celebrity, and they all want no-strings-attached, casual relationships due to that fame. He doesn't want to have to worry about fans melting down, paparazzi asking questions, and what people will say in general. He doesn't want to have to deal with any reactions your relationship would garner, especially not during a world tour. He just wants to have some mind-blowing sex and let off steam.

You try to focus on how great that sex was, and that he wants to keep having it with you. You try to take comfort in that. It doesn't work super well, but it's what you have to do. The only way out is through. You will have some good times sleeping with each other, and then when the tour ends, you will go your separate ways.

It's delicate, you reassure yourself as you leave the room, but I will do my best to seem bulletproof.

;

You're not. As the days and weeks pass, and you and Eddie continue hooking up with no strings, you come to realize that painfully intimately.

He sneaks in and out of your hotel rooms under the cover of darkness, never saying goodbye, never leaving you with anything other than nicely sore legs and taking with him any traces of happiness you'd gotten while with him. And it's a lot—you realize way too soon that you're falling for him. He always takes care of you so sweetly when you have sex, and he's such a gentleman when he's alone with you, and he doesn't stop using those damned pet names even in public (though it is limited to princess and sweetheart). He asks you questions like he cares about the answers and still compliments your sets and sound checks.

It's this weird combination of torture and bliss. When you're together, it's like all you can see is each other, but when you add another person to the mix, he turns distant and indifferent. When you all go out drinking, he doesn't pay attention to you at the bar but unleashes a jealous possessiveness in private that always makes you think he's falling for you too. But he's always gone in the morning, without fail, without a word.

It would be so much easier if the sex wasn't so good. When he puts his mouth on you, it's like you're electrified from the inside out. When he's inside you, it's like he fits perfectly. And when he inevitably comes back for more, it's like you're helpless, unable to refuse, wanting him just one more time.

You've said "one more time" to yourself so many times it's too many to count. You keep telling yourself you'll break it off, stop your heart from fracturing each time—you're afraid it's going to shatter one of these days. But when he knocks on your door, and you open it to see him looking at you with those bedroom eyes and delectable lips, you can't stop yourself from hauling him in and kissing him soundly. He's like a drug. Like you're addicted.

Sometimes you catch yourself looking at him in public and thinking about revealing the secret. You imagine just walking up and kissing him in front of everyone. What would you do if I went to touch you now? You whisper to yourself as you pass each other in the hotel hallway and he winks just for you. But then he kisses you in private and you think, you know I won't ever tell—not if I can keep you like this, for as long as I can have you.

Then the tour comes to an end, and you go your separate ways.

You find yourself waiting by the phone, seeing if he'll call and you hate yourself for it, but you can't stop. It's your constant companion, your closest confidante. But it doesn't ring and doesn't ring and doesn't ring.

Life goes on around you, even though you don't go with it. Reviews of the tour come in and they're generally positive. Corroded Coffin comes out with new music. Your agent tries reaching out to you about another record, but you can't make yourself pick up a pen.

The only thing that breaks through the monotony is an invitation to the MMAs, Major Music Awards. You're surprised to learn that you've been nominated for Best New Artist, and dismayed to learn that Corroded Coffin has been nominated for their latest album. You RSVP yes—but only so you can get out of this rut. It's messing up your life; it's driving you crazy. You know the band will be there and if you could just see Eddie in person, from a distance, maybe you can get past this and move on from him. You desperately need some closure.

So on the night, you let yourself dress up, let a makeup artist cover your face in proverbial warpaint, let a hairstylist pull your hair back into a severe updo. You let your agent get you a limo and arrange for you to arrive during primetime. And you steel your nerves.

;

The flashing lights blind you as you step out of the car. You hold up a hand and present what you hope is a collected smile, not one that's panicked and weird. You pay enough attention to the ground so you know where you're going but stop as directed to let the reporters take photos and shout questions.

One calls your name. "Are you still close with Corroded Coffin?"

You clench your jaw. "Of course! I'm still so grateful they chose me to be their opener on the last tour."

"How was it?"

You have a memory of Eddie smiling at you while eating you out. "Amazing! Life-changing!"

"How do you feel about being nominated tonight?"

"Oh my gosh, so blessed." Thank god, a question not about him. "I'm so honored to be in a category with so many other fantastic artists."

"Think you'll win?"

"Fingers crossed! But I'm just happy to be nominated, really."

"Thank you everyone!" Your agent says to the press and motions for you to walk with her. You follow, trying not to trip in your sky-high heels, as she leads you to your table. "Your award is first," she says as you pull out your chair to sit, "so it'll be done right away. You're free to leave whenever."

"What about Corroded Coffin?" You can't help asking. "Shouldn't I stay for that award?"

"It's a nice gesture, not strictly necessary. But you're welcome to stay, of course."

You nod thoughtfully. Maybe you'll get your closure and get out of there.

When your agent moves away, the empty space reveals the door. The door through which Corroded Coffin is walking. Jeff and Grant enter first, Gareth following, and then...Eddie bringing up the rear. All of them look nonplussed—they've been to plenty of these things before.

Eddie scans the room and his eyes fall on you. They widen a little bit but his mouth curves into a smile, and he waves a little. As your stomach goes into free-fall, you wave back. You hadn't meant it as an invitation, but he starts walking over to you, breaking from the rest of the band without even letting them know. He keeps his gaze on you as he weaves through the tables, and you try not to let your heart gallop away from you.

"Hey," he says when he reaches you. His voice is scratchy and familiar and music to your ears.

"Hi," you somehow manage in reply.

"How are you? How have you been?" He sounds eager to know.

"Um, okay." You hadn't thought about how you wouldn't have anything to say due to wallowing for the past few months. "You?"

"Good, good." He's nodding, still staring at you with those eyes you'd gotten lost in so many times.

"Well..." You break the eye contact to look him over. You can't help smirking at his aesthetic change for the night. "I see you, in your suit and your necktie," you tease.

He rolls his eyes but grins. "Yeah, we were forced to wear these monkey suits," he groans. "Can't wait to get it off."

A fantasy comes to your mind of doing that with him, helping him throw his jacket on the floor, as your lips are locked together. You shake your head to make it go away. "You look good." He does.

He preens. "Thanks. You look amazing." His eyes rove over you and you will your body not to flush.

"Thank you," you whisper, just like after he'd called you the prettiest girl he'd ever seen the first time you'd slept together.

"I gotta go, but it was nice to see you." He opens his arms for a hug. You think about saying no, going for a handshake instead, but your body moves of its own accord, stepping into him and holding him close. He tightens his grip around you and his hand brushes yours, placing a piece of paper in your palm. Before you can ask about it, he leans back, gives you a dazzling smile, and struts away.

You look down. It's folded into fours, very wrinkled and a little worn. You unfold it and read, in Eddie's writing, "Meet me tonight. Room 1012 at 9pm."

Your heart sprints away and you can't catch it. You sit down and take a deep breath. You can be strong, you can still do what you came here to do. You can get your closure.

Someone comes around with a tray of champagne flutes and you grab one gratefully. You drink half of it in one go, relaxing when the bubbles fizz some of your anxiety away, and set it down so you don't guzzle the other half right away. Thankfully, the lights dim and an overture starts. Your mind races as it goes on, trying not to think about seeing Eddie in private again after so long. The host comes onstage and you don't even hear the bad jokes they crack that get crickets from the audience. But then they introduce the first presenter—your award—and you're nervous for a completely different reason.

You force yourself to pay attention and listen to the person summarize the award and what it means. They list all the nominees and you paste a smile on your face when they mention you and the camera is for sure on you. Your heart is pounding and your stomach is flip-flopping and through it all there's a piece of your mind that is still on Eddie and what he's thinking about during this.

You don't realize at first when they announce you as the winner.

When the clapping starts up in earnest and you're jolted into blinking, you discover your name and live feed is on the big screen, and people are jostling you in congratulations. You stand and walk to the stage, trying to be graceful and not stilted. You work very hard on the steps so you don't trip. And then you're onstage, and the presenter and host are hugging you, and someone is handing you the award, and another is pushing you to the mic. You clutch the sculpture tightly in your sweaty hands so you don't drop and shatter it, and stare out at the audience.

You can't see a thing. The lights are so bright that you can only see darkness and shining flashes of glasses and jewelry. You don't know where Eddie is and you couldn't find him if you tried. Weirdly, it relaxes you, and you start talking from the heart.

"Wow! I can't really believe this." You laugh breathlessly. "Thank you so much to everyone who has helped me get here: my agent, my manager, my crew, my family, my friends, everyone I love. And I have to give special thanks to Corroded Coffin, who made my dreams come true by picking me as the opening act for their last tour, and I couldn't have done any of this without them and their faith in me." The audience claps. "I'd also like to say to everyone who doesn't really see the light at the end of the tunnel...it's coming. It might take a while and no one knows when it'll appear, but if you're moving forwards, you're moving towards it. And it's brighter than you could've ever imagined. Thank you!"

You step away from the mic and more applause follows you backstage. People come up and congratulate you in a whirlwind, and you don't know who anyone is. You just hold your award to your chest and smile so brightly it could blind.

Your agent rushes over and gives you an enormous hug. "Congratulations, babe! I knew you could do it."

You chuckle. "I didn't."

"Well, it's my job to know you could and always can." You smile at her gratefully. "You ready to meet the press?"

You nod. "What time is it?"

She checks her watch. "8:40."

You thank her and she leads you to the press room, which is filled with yells as you enter. You stand at the mic, still clutching your award, still grinning like a maniac. Everyone raises their hand and screams your name, and you pick a reporter at random.

They stand. "How do you feel about your win tonight?"

"I'm—I don't know," you answer, flustered, and the crowd titters kindly. "This is more than I could've asked for. I'm so honored."

You choose another person. "Do you feel like you should've won?"

"I can't say that, everyone in the category with me are so talented and deserved it as well. I kind of want to do the Mean Girls thing and break it into pieces for them." The press laughs with you.

Someone else: "Where did the end of your speech come from? About the tunnel?"

"I'm not really sure, to be honest," you admit. "I've just been feeling low lately, for reasons that are not entirely rational. But tonight and everything that's happened has really shown me that we all get a happy ending one way or another. We have the strength to get through anything. Everyone alive has made it through all their hard times—we have a 100% success rate. And it'll be okay, in the end."

The last: "What's next for you?"

You think about it for a minute. "I'm gonna keep going. Maybe I'll write an album about what I went through, maybe I'll forget about it and write about the future. Maybe I'll quit music altogether and become a skydiving instructor." Everyone laughs. "No, I won't do that last one. I'm afraid of heights." You smile. "But the sky is the limit and I can do anything."

Your agent steps forward so you step back. She thanks everyone and escorts you back out of the press room and into the bustling hallway. "Can you take this?" You ask, turning to her and holding out the sculpture. She takes it hesitantly and you giggle. "I'll be right back. Promise."

She nods with a sigh and you escape down the hall and to the elevator bank. You fidget as you wait for it to arrive, and then you pace as it rises to the tenth floor. You're nervous but there's a newfound strength inside you from your win. You deserve to get what you want. And that means not being some man's stepping stone on his way to a trophy wife.

You knock on room 1012 and the door swings open to reveal Eddie. He steps back and sweeps his hand out for you to enter, so you do. Once he shuts the door, he walks up to you.

"Congrats on your award," he says.

"Thanks," you reply coolly.

He cocks his head, studying you. "What'd you mean at the end though?"

You stare at him. He seems genuine. "Nothing. It doesn't matter."

His eyebrows raise. "You sure?"

You play it out in your head: telling him everything you felt from the moment he kissed you, how it hurt when asked to keep it casual and hidden, how much like a lovesick fool you felt on the tour, how you sat by the phone and waited for him to call for an embarrassing amount of time, how you haven't been able to think about anything else but him and your time together since it started. That you fell for him, against your better judgement, despite your attempts not to. It would be so satisfying to see those words hit him, how his face would look when you told him a guy who never tried to hurt anyone hurt you badly without trying.

But that's not what you're here for. So you nod, with a fresh wave of confidence, and that's what makes you raise a hand and stop Eddie when he tries to step forward and kiss you.

"What's up?" He asks, confused.

"I'm not gonna do this anymore," you answer. It might be a whisper, but at least you've said it.

And at least he doesn't pretend to not know what you mean. "Why not?" It's not petulant, or annoyed, or upset, but straight.

"I deserve better." And your voice is a little stronger now. "I deserve not to be treated like a secret. I deserve someone who loves me back."

"Back?" Eddie echoes and you sigh inwardly.

"Slip of the tongue," you try to reason, but it's weak and he can see through it. He's always been able to see through you.

"Angel--"

"Not your angel anymore," you interrupt. "Or your sweetheart, or your princess. Not yours." You slowly turn and walk back to the door before looking back at him one last time. "I'm not sure I ever was."

Eddie opens his mouth but you can't bear to hear his reply. So you walk out of the room and down the hall, not stopping even when he calls your name desperately. He follows you but the elevator door closes on his face.

The elevator opens into the lobby and you rush out. You search for your agent, eventually finding her talking to a group of people. You wait impatiently for her to finish—you just wanna get your award and go home. Finally, she turns to you, but then the lights dim and she ushers you to your table and makes you sit with her. You try to protest but she shushes you as the host walks out. You sit in frustration as they crack more bad jokes and introduce the presenter.

"And so the Best New Album award." Fuck. "The nominees are..." As they list all the nominated artists, you try not to look when Corroded Coffin is announced and live video is projected on the big screen. But it's like your eyes are magnetized and you're jarred when you see that Eddie is looking at his lap blankly, not performing for the camera or jostling with his band members, completely unlike him.

The picture minimizes and the presenter opens their envelope. "And the winner is..." Everyone holds their breath, including you. "Corroded Coffin!"

The audience goes crazy, as does your agent and the band when their picture goes big again. Except for Eddie, who Gareth has to haul to his feet and push to the stage with them. He stumbles up the steps and stands in the back as Grant grabs the award and Jeff goes to the mic and starts thanking everyone in their orbit. You still stare at Eddie, who is blinking in the bright lights, looking lost. But when Jeff finishes and the presenter starts ushering them offstage, Eddie breaks from the pack and walks up to the mic.

"Um," he starts, voice echoing in the quieted room. "Hi. I'm not here to thank or praise anyone—Jeff already did all of that. I'm here to..." He takes a deep breath. "I'm here to talk to my angel."

You freeze.

He continues. "I could stand here and say I didn't mean it, and while it would be true, it wouldn't help. And I could say that I was a complete and utter asshole, which is also true, but has already been implied. Instead, what I am going to say this: you do deserve better.

"The truth is, I did want you to be mine. But I was scared, and I put up my walls, and I tried to protect myself. I didn't want to be hurt, and I hurt you in the process, and for that, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I treated you like a secret. I wish I could go back in time, to that night in room 1012 and stop myself from leaving, or to that next day and stop myself from asking what I did of you, or any day after that and make myself confess that I'm yours. I've been yours from the very beginning. I'm yours right now and probably always will be. I'm sorry I never told you and I'm sorry it took so long. But you deserve to know."

With that, he raises a hand and walks offstage. You stare at the space he'd been, trying to understand everything he'd said, but your agent is trying to gossip with you about it and it's making your skin crawl. So you stand and speed-walk away, towards backstage, no one even stoping you as you race after Corroded Coffin.

"Eddie!" You call out when you spot them, and he spins around. You don't slow down and slam into him, throwing your arms around him. He catches you, and after a few seconds of hesitation, holds you close.

"Oh, thank fuck," he breathes out.

You draw back and look at him. He has hope, anxiety, guilt, regret in his expression. "You love me?" You ask breathlessly.

He nods frantically. "I've loved you for so long, angel."

"But you were scared? Of me hurting you?"

He shakes his head just as furiously as he'd nodded. "Never of you. Of myself, of not being enough. I never deserved you, princess. That I know."

Now you shake your head. "You were everything I wanted. I just thought I couldn't have it."

"You have it. You've always had it." He swallows. "You've had all of me since we first met."

Finally, you smile. You feel over the moon, lighter than air, like you could float away if Eddie wasn't tethering you down to the ground. His face brightens in response, lit up from within, an incandescent glow. "I love you," you admit, and his ecstatic reaction makes your heart sing.

He kisses you, and it's just as perfect as it had always been, lips slotting against yours like they were made for each other. Like you were made for each other.

He parts and rests his forehead against yours. "I'm so sorry, baby. For it all."

"It's okay."

He shakes his head slightly. "Nah, I've got a lot to make up for."

"Well," you reply, leaning back, "if you say so."

He laughs, and it's the most perfect sound you've ever heard.

"I can't believe you remembered that room number," you murmur in amazement. "I didn't even realize."

"I remember it all, angel. That's how I know I have so much to grovel for." At his smirk, you giggle, and he breaks into a full smile.

"Can't wait to see how you make it better," you tease, sparkle in your eye. Eddie pulls you closer again.

"Me too," he admits, and you laugh with all the happiness in the world.

;

"How are y'all feeling tonight?" You shout, and the audience screams back at you in excitement. You laugh. "Good to hear! I'm feeling great!"

You're onstage, playing a show for your current international headlining tour. You've just sang the first two songs of the set, feeding off the crowd's high energy and bouncing around. There's a set of three guitars near the edge and your microphone is your favorite color and the lights are blinding in that way that makes you feel invincible. It doesn't hurt that the show, like most of the others on the tour, is sold out, and your fans are going crazy already.

"As you may know," you continue, "I went through some shit last year." There're a few boos that make you giggle. "It was a hard time, but I came out the other side. But you all know that. It was shown on live television!" Everyone screams again and you grin brightly. "That was wild, right? I was just as shocked as y'all."

"We love you!" Someone shrieks.

"I love you too!" You reply. "I couldn't have done any of this without all of y'all. And when a certain someone said they loved me at the MMAs, I couldn't have done it without him either. In fact, he inspired my latest album—the highs, the lows, the heartbreak, the happy ending. He and his band even collab'd with me on it, and volunteered to be featured on a couple of songs."

There's more screeching, like they know you're building to something.

"You all know who they are. Who isn't a fan of Corroded Coffin?" You laugh as the crowd agrees with you loudly. "I am, have been for a long time. They were very formative to my music and overall sound. Wouldn't it be amazing if they were here too?"

The crowd practically howls.

"This isn't a surprise anymore really, but I do love introducing it as one. So...oh my gosh!" You exclaim, staring offstage. "Who's this?"

Jeff, Grant, and Gareth all run out onstage and wave, and everyone goes wild. They each give you a quick hug before going to their instruments. You keep watching the wings, smile on your face, as finally, Eddie strolls out like the rockstar he is. He takes his time walking across, but he doesn't look at the crowd—he keeps his eyes on you only. You can't tear your gaze away.

When he eventually reaches you and grabs your hand, you turn to your audience. "Girls, gays, and theys, please welcome Corroded Coffin!" Their screams drown you out and you laugh, the delight of this moment never fading night after night.

Eddie squeezes your hand and you look at him. He leans in and kisses you. The crowd yells impossibly louder as he wraps his hands around your waist and dips you dramatically. You laugh in glee, breaking the kiss, and he stares at you with love.

Then he brings a mic to his mouth. "Y'all having a good time?" He's still looking at you as they answer him in screams. "Bet I'm having a better time, though. Only I get to kiss this goddess you all came to see."

You roll your eyes but you go all gooey inside. "Let's not make anyone jealous, baby. That's how this whole thing got started, you know."

"Mhm," he hums lowly. "And you look better every day since then."

"You big softie," you tease. Turning back to the crowd, you yell in fake-shock, "Did y'all know that rockstar and certified metalhead Eddie Munson is actually a huge cinnamon roll at heart?"

Eddie places a hand over your mouth. "Stop! You'll ruin my reputation!" He jokes. You lick his palm and he takes his hand away, giving you a grossed-out look. You smirk and blow him a kiss, which softens his expression.

"Y'all think we can get on with the show?" Grant asks, fondly exasperated.

"Hell yeah!" You answer.

Eddie pouts. "I guess."

You laugh and tug him close as Corroded Coffin explodes into the next song. Eddie leans over and says in your ear, "Ready, princess?'

You give him a fiery gaze. "Oh, I'm ready."

"Bring it on," he replies, and his wink sends you to the stars.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #mine

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giggly-squiggily · 2 years ago

Text

A Series Of Deductions (Moriarty The Patriot)

Welp, here it is folks. I'm officially a William/Sherlock shipper! (is anyone surprised?)

Heyo everyone! I've been making good strides with Moriarty lately- both with the manga and anime- so much so that I've finally got the inspiration to finish this fic! Credit to a lovely friend of mine here that helped me bring this fic to life! I hope y'all like it as much as I did writing it!

CW: Drinking

Summary: Through a series of accidental turned intentional events, William finds himself in quite the peculiar situation

It wasn’t uncommon to find William James Moriarty among the common folk.

Despite being an aristocrat with the privilege to spend his time at the finest gentleman clubs, the young professor made it a point to frequent the smaller pubs and shops around town.

Some would say they were simply convenience- most were walking distance from the university, perfect for a drink after those late nights grading.

Others said he enjoyed the people- anywhere you looked he was chatting up the locals, sharing advice for their various problems and learning little bouts of gossip around town.

Both statements were true, along with other factors.

“Ah, late today, Professor? And here I was starting to think you’ve grown bored of our evening meetings.” Sherlock grinned around a cigarette as William sat beside him, a tad breathless from the run. “Winded too. That excited to see me?”

“Oh hush…I hadn’t intended it, but it seemed sleep got the better of me.” William confessed, a small blush staining his cheeks as he ordered his usual from the bartender. He needed to sleep more; how unprofessional would it be if one of his students found him passed out at his desk, ink staining his cheek?

Not to mention the dream he had while sleeping…a certain long haired detective invading his dreams like a virus.

“Pfft, you, sleeping at your desk? Oh man, I wish I was there!” Sherlock laughed like a child, slapping a hand on the bar as he threw his head back in mirth. “Remind me to swing by the classroom one of these evenings- I just might catch you. Do you talk in your sleep? What secrets would you share, I wonder…”

“You’re dreaming yourself now, Mr. Holmes.” William shook his head with a small laugh, taking his drink. He was grateful for the large glass; he hoped it hid his mortification at the thought of Sherlock finding him in such a state. “Though if you’re interested in sitting in one of my lectures, you’re free to do so. I’ll be sure to adjust the lecture plan so you can keep up. Does basic addition sound good?”

“Cheeky, aren’t ya?” Sherlock huffed, reaching out without thinking. His finger jabbed William’s side, twisting some upon contact. “And after being late! I’d outta-”

“Heeh!”

Both men froze, Sherlock’s eyes wide in surprise as William’s face flushed a pretty shade of red.

“What was-”

“Nothing.”

“Certainly you’re not-”

“You’re imagining things.”

“Professor…” Sherlock started to grin once more, eyes dancing. “Don’t tell me, you’re ticklish aren’t you?”

William stared him down, debating on how he’d go about this. Denying it would only prompt further investigation, while admitting to it…well, that’d also lead to investigation.

My, he was- to put it in the most Moran-esque way possible- screwed.

His options limited, he finished his drink, slipping his pay plus a tip to the bartender as he smiled at the detective. Leaning against the bar casually, he told him only one thing.

“Catch me, if you can, Mr. Holmes.”

Sherlock’s shocked expression was a blur as he bolted from his seat, evading tables and flying out the door before anyone could react. Behind him was wind as he ran, a laugh breaking free from his voice as he heard Sherlock yell something inaudible after him. He felt like a child at that moment, running away like how he ran from Jack with his brothers when lessons proved to be slow. It was exhilarating.

It was only when he got halfway home did he realize he completely forgot about his schoolbag.

~~~

“William, we have a visitor.” Louis’ expression was grim, as if he encountered a rather large spider while tidying up the manor. “Or I should say, you have a visitor. I have a pest.”

“Ah, so Mr. Holmes learned of our address?” William struggled to fight down the laugh in his voice at his brother’s dismay. “I believe I know what business he has with me. I’ll meet him at the door, no need to set anything out.”

“If you’re worried I’d poison him, you shouldn’t. Imagine the mess that’d leave.” Louis tsked, shaking his head in disgust. “We’d never remove the stains.”

“Glad to know you're prioritizing the estate, brother.” William smiled as he stood, making his way towards the door. “We’d never survive without you.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’d find a way.” Louis waved him off, hiding the flattered smile on his lips with a turn of his face. “Go now before he decides to scale the windows.”

When William arrived, Sherlock was standing alone at the door, William’s schoolbag in hand. “Morning, Professor.” He greeted with an easy grin, nodding at the man’s dressing robe. “Seems you’ve slept in today.”

“Oh this old thing? I prefer staying comfortable for as long as possible, that’s all. No need to dress up for grading.” William eyed his schoolbag curiously; there were no indications someone tried to pry it open, and everything seemed as intact as it was the other day. “You brought my bag?”

“Yeah, couldn’t just leave it there after you took off like a bat out of hell.” There was no resentment or anger in his voice. Sherlock sounded far too amused by the whole ordeal as he held up the bag, wiggling it some. “Come now, take it.”

“I really should apologize, Mr. Holmes. That was rather unsightly of me.” William shook his head as he walked over, taking the bag in question. “Not to mention rude. I’ll avoid leaving so abruptly in our future meetings.”

“Future meetings? You still want to meet up?” Sherlock sounded surprised. William couldn’t tell you why that oddly hurt.

“Apologies, I shouldn’t assume.” William smiled tightly as he stepped back, bag in hand. “Thank you for bringing this to me, Mr. Holmes. I’ll take my leave now-”

“Hold on, hold on! You’re as quick with your assumptions as you are with those feet.” Sherlock waved off his goodbye, making the blonde pause. “I’d still like to meet with you, evenings have never felt more fun, you know? Given Watson’s constant nagging of my habits and Miss Hudson going on about the rent or my latest experiment-which I’ll have you know went completely…” The detective cleared his throat when he realized he was rambling. “Point standing; I’d like to continue these evening meetings together…if you’ll have me.”

“My, bashful aren’t we?” William chuckled, even as that last bit of phrasing made something in his chest unravel. “Of course, Mr. Holmes. I’d like that.”

They stood in the hall for a moment more, quiet as they both looked for something to say. This was feeling less and less like a short meeting between men and more like two children declaring their love. William grasped at something to say, but came up blank. Instead, an idea he’d been nursing came to light.

“Well, I should be off then? Same spot at the bar as always, ol’ chap?” Sherlock nodded, turning to the door and heading out.

“Mr.Holmes, before you go. Answer me this?” William called out to him, making Sherlock turn. “Yesterday you inquired about my own sensitivities. I wanted to ask..are you perhaps ticklish?”

It was brief, but a flash of panic Sherlock’s eyes before melting back into a thoughtful expression. That was all William needed to confirm his suspicions. “Am I now? Well, Professor.” Sherlock grinned as he made his way out the door, eyes dancing. “You’ll just have to find out for yourself, won’t you?”

With that, the door clicked shut, leaving William standing there a tad breathless.

“Evenings with Sherlock Holmes?” Moran’s voice cut through his surprise, making him turn. “So that’s where you’ve been?”

“I’d give it a month.” Bonde nodded beside him, something knowing in their expression.

“Half of that, given how direct William is.” Moran shared a grin with his companion.

“If you two are so eager to snoop, might I inquire about your mission details?” William asked cooly, taking small satisfaction in the way they squirmed. “I take it you two haven’t actually gotten to it yet, have you?”

“Heading out now, Will!” Moran reassured, moving past the blonde with Bonde on his heels. “When you hear from us again, we’ll have information for days!”

“Yes. Oh, and William.” Bonde turned one last glance at him as they passed, eyes glittering. “He’s rather fond of brandy. Takes any immediate worries right off his mind. He’d be more focused on…important things.” They winked just as Moran dragged them out the door, leaving a wide eyed William standing by once again, this time his cheeks a tad pink.

~~~

It wasn’t long before the whole tickling thing became part of their evenings together.

Occasionally, without much warning, Sherlock would find ways to poke and prod William’s side whenever they sat at the bar together. It was never longlasting- short little jabs that briefly shocked him back to reality if he started to space out or grew lost in thought. The detective would giggle like a child whenever he did it, the soft sound unfairly charming.

Of course, William wasn’t the type to take such jabs without a fight. It hadn’t taken long before he started returning the favor, sneaking little prods and pokes into Sherlock’s ribs whenever he walked by towards his seat or on his way out. It never failed to get quite the reaction from him- Sherlock would all but fly out of his seat, cheeks dusting a bright pink before his glare melted away into something William couldn’t quite describe.

Their silly game didn’t remain at the bar. In cases they ended up taking together by chance or the impromptu meetup on trains or parties, they had found ways to subtly jab at each other. Never during important times of course, but rather during the quiet hours when stress was lingering. The blonde would be lying if he said he didn’t find the little pokes reminding him of Sherlock’s presence comforting. It was a nice way to step out of the Lord of Crimes mindset and into his own. Into “Liam” as Sherlock would put it.

Accidental meetings turned into more commonplace like the bar, and before long it wasn’t unlikely to see London’s most prominent detective side by side with the bewitching Mathematician; the two of them laughing about whatever as they wandered home, Sherlock pink from alcohol and William all but dragging him back to his home. If rumors existed regarding the details of their relationship, William didn’t know. He preferred not to think about that. It was bad enough his fellow crime consultants were wagging brows at him and tossing out offhanded advice regarding Holmes (and of course- Louis scowling at the name); the idea of the whole town whispering about it…

“Oi, you’ve gone quiet, Professor.” A poke to the ribs brought William right back to the dark streets of London, the smell of cigarettes and cologne floating beside him. “Tell me- what’s on your mind, ol chap?”

“You’re rather drunk, are you?” William asked with a laugh, steadying a swaying Sherlock with one hand. “I told you not to down that last Brandy.”

“Sorry, love. I’ll be sure to listen to the Misses next time.” Sherlock grinned, yelping on a laugh when the blonde shoved him. “Wow, you’re strong, Liam!”

“No, you’re just out of it.” He scanned the streets, creating a mental map in his mind. Without a carriage, the walk to Bakers’ street would take all night. Not to mention the earful they’d both get from Miss Hudson. Deciding to risk the wrath of his brother, William took Sherlock’s arm in his, pulling him along towards home. “Let’s go. You can sleep on the couch tonight.”

“The couch? Oo, I really pissed off the Misses tonight, huh?” Sherlock’s tipsy laugh filled the empty streets as they carried on.

~~~

“Huh. Nice place you’ve got.” Miraculously- Sherlock seemed to sober up almost immediately upon arriving at the Moriarty Estate. Lying across the offered couch, he snuggled in more with a content hum as William brought water and bread. “No surprise a nobleman such as yourself would be living in something so tasteful. Not a single foul odor in the air.”

“Thank you. My brother- along with our housemates- we take care of the place well.” William gestured for him to sit up, offering the water first. “I’d say drink this, but from what I’m seeing, you’re rather oriented.”

“Heh, don’t be fooled by a man’s cover, Liam. I’m definitely buzzed.” Sherlock took the glass, gulping down the contents with a single swig. The bread came and went nearly as fast. “Thank you- That should keep me going a while longer.”

“Right…I’ll bring you a sleep robe and a blanket.” William nodded, turning to go. “Stay put-” Arms suddenly came around him, pulling him back into a broad chest. “Whoa-Mr. Holmes, what are you doing?”

“Liam, I’ve told you. Call me Sherlock.” The brunette grinned in his ear, sending shivers down the blonde’s spine. “Why rush off to bed? You and I’ve got unfinished business.”

Dear lord he couldn’t mean-

“While I’m flattered by the offer, I’d rather we not do it here in the main room.” William started to gently undo the arms around him, a tad irritated when they didn’t budge. “Poor Fred- he tends to get rather hungry at this hour. I’d hate for him to witness something unsightly.”

“Oh I’m sure he’d witnessed this before. Unless you mean to tell me your companions never saw you so��vulnerable?” Sherlock teased, the hand around his waist moving to lie flat against his stomach, fingers poised. Only then William understood what he was intending.

“My word, you’re truly a boar, you know that, Mr. Holmes?” He shook his head with an embarrassed laugh, mentally scolding himself for thinking…why had he been thinking that? “I’m starting to understand now what he meant-” The fingers against his stomach curled, pressing inward and sending a sharp bolt of ticklish electricity up his core.

“I’ll have to ask who “he” is later. For now, our business.” Sherlock carried on clawing gently, deeply satisfied at the way William pressed his mouth flat, squirming in his arms. “You said, if I recall, “Catch me if you can, Mr. Holmes.” Now I have. Come on Liam, we both know you’re ticklish. Why bother hiding it?”

“It-It’s not a mahhahtter of thahaht!” William grunted, grabbing the wrist around his middle as Sherlock started tracing circles with his fingers. “Everyone’s asleheheep! Yoohohu’ll wake thehem up!”

“I won’t- I’m barely speaking over a whisper. You on the other hand.” At this, Sherlock brought his free hand up, gently squeezing against the spot on William’s waist he knew was ticklish. “Are rather loud when giggly. Try not to make too much noise now, dear Liam.”

“Yoohohohu scohoohoundral!” William swore, one hand pressed over his mouth to muffle the noise as his other batted at Sherlock’s. Squirming against his lap, he felt like a child again- Jack gathering him up when he refused to take a break and tickling him until he gave in. It was both comforting and embarrassing- he was so incredibly thankful said man wasn’t up right now. Who knows what little secrets Jack would let slip had he seen such a sight? “Shehhherlock, doohohohn’t!”

“Don’t what, Liam? Don’t stop tickling you? I suppose that’s what you want me to do, right?” Sherlock laughed softly against his back, hands carrying on their playful assault. “You know how I know this? Deduction. If you really wanted me to stop tickling you, you’d tell me so outright. Instead, you’re barely fighting me off. You and I both know I’m barely holding on to you. All you need to do is stand up, and it’ll be all over.

“But you won’t. You won’t because you're enjoying this. I can feel it, Liam. You’re far too relaxed to be someone who despises tickling, and you’ve even given me more spots to try.” Sherlock ran his hand up his side, giving William’s ribs a proper tap and earning a muffled squeak. “The out remains though. If at any point you grow uncomfortable, just say the word and I’ll retract my hands immediately.”

“Hohohohohohw thohoohoorough of yohoohohou wihihihth yohoohohur deheheheductions!” William gave up on trying to cover his mouth, both hands grabbing Sherlocks wrists as they wormed up and down his ribs, leaving little tickly presses at each pass. Soft giggles and squeaks whispered around the room, somehow still quiet enough not to alert anyone. “Hoohoohohohwehehehhver, yohohohohou fahhahahailed to fahahhahctor in soohoohohmething!” “Have I now? What would that be?” Sherlock asked with a grin.

“Yohooohohou’ve fohohohohoorgohohohohotten abohohohohut your ohohohohown wehhehehaknehehehehhess!” With that, he shot a hand down to Sherlock’s leg, squeezing only once.

“AH!” Sherlock squawked, slapping a hand over his mouth just as William slapped his own on top, creating a double layer of flesh. They looked around, waiting for a sound. When nothing came, they met eyes, William raising a finger to his lips.

Sherlock puffed against the hands, eyes squinting as he shook with laughter. William barely fought down his own mirth, ducking his head against his arm as Sherlock’s muffled giggles tickled his ears. “Whahat are wehehee, chihildren?” William gasped out as Sherlock howled in their hands, slapping his leg. This only made William laugh harder, covering his face with his free hand. “Stoohhop, stop- we’ll wake the hohohuse!”

“The house is already awake.” A new voice made them jump, twisting around to find a sour faced Louis glaring. His hair was a mess, and he wasn’t wearing his glasses, but it didn’t take long before an assumption crossed his face, turning his glare into a look of shock. “S-Sherlock Holmes?”

“Well, would you look at the time; I better head home now!” Said detective stood, nodding at the brothers politely. “Thank you so much for having me tonight, Liam. Louie.” The nickname earned him a scary look. “Your brother has been the most gracious host, but alas- it’s time for me to part-”

“It’s 2 in the morning.” Louis cut him off, his tone like ice. “No carriages run this late.”

“I’ll find a way.” Sherlock grinned, growing increasingly nervous. Louis cut his eyes to William once before turning back to the detective, shaking his head.

“The spare room is down the hall and to the left. Make yourself comfortable.” Sherlock seemed frozen by the offer, eyes wide and mouth gaping like a fish. “Breakfast is served at 8. If you’re hungry, stick around. If not, be gone by then.” He gestured, sending a nodding Sherlock on his way. Once he was out of the room, Louis turned to his brother. “Will.”

“Louis-” He began.

“Quiet.” He cut him off, shutting his brother up. It was rare for Louis to take on such a tone with him. Usually he reserved it for Moran. “Listen. You are my brother, and I love and respect you with my entire being. You know that will never change.”

“Louis, I don’t understand-”

“I am not some closed minded fool, Will. I know there are many types of love out there, and I’m happy you’re finding yours.” Louis carried on, pointedly ignoring his brother. “That said, Sherlock Holmes? Of all the men you could fancy, why him?”

“What…What, no, Louis!” William flushed as red as his eyes, mortified. “You got it all wrong-”

“Told you.” Moran smirked up at a just as amazed Bonde by the door. “Half a month.”

“That was three quarters at least.” They argued. “I win by default.”

“No way-”

“Can someone tell me why Sherlock Holmes is in our bathtub? Albert asked, understanding in his eyes as he looked at William. “Ah. Nevermind.”

“Who ate the last bread roll? I was hungry.” Fred appeared, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Louis, do we have any scones left from this morning?”

“I’ll make some.” Jack called from the kitchen, earning a chorus of voices ranging from “Oh that won’t be necessary, Jack!” to “Don’t let that old man cook, he’ll poison us all!”

William only held his face in his hands, suddenly very tired.

What a night.

Thanks for reading!

#MTP #william james moriarty #sherlock holmes #tickle #tickle fic #fluff #Sherliam #This was originally gonna be short #it got long #whoops!#They're in love #even if they won't acknowledge it #kjakrkjaerkjaejkr

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kbc-headoffice · 11 months ago

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worksby-gabriella · 2 years ago

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Ours

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: The jury's out, but Y/N's choice is Eddie.

No specified gender for reader

A/N: I don't really love this, as I've said before. I'm goinna label it as a drabble but I'm probably gonna add more to it at some point soon when I actually KNOW WHAT TO FUCKING WRITE. 😄😭

Inspired by: Ours by Taylor Swift

Nancy is rambling on and on about something for the school paper in the journalism room, I wish I could listen and focus but instead I’m soaking up the stale morning air in the room. I spent the night with Eddie and I feel like that’s enough of an explanation on its own.

I’m reminiscing about last night’s venereal events when I’m snapped out of my haze by Nancy and Fred snapping their fingers at me, “Helloooo, earth to Y/N.”

I hear Nancy’s annoyed voice ring throughout the room, the silence is deafening.

I whip my eyes to hers as Fred joins into the conversation, “You were with the freak last night, weren’t you?”

His eyes look at me accusingly but I get defensive and ignore what he asked me, “Hey! Don’t call him that.”

I glance down at the typewriter I was working at, when I hear Nancy tsking and see her shaking her head slightly out of my peripheral vision.

“What Nancy?” My voice comes out irritated because I know what she's getting at.

“I told you he’s a bad influence.” She says in a mocking sing songy, I told you so tone.

“I- What? N-” I start but Fred interrupts me.

“She’s got a point, you came in late today, you don't pay attention, you skip 4th period, and by the way we can see the hickey on your neck.”

I self-consciously tug up the neckline of my sweater, “That's not true, he just brings out a more contumacious side of me.”

“That's literally the definition of being a bad influence, Y/N.”

“Ugh. Not it’s not, he makes me more outgoing, I feel excited and giddy around him. Plus, I love him.” I stick out my tongue at my two friends and they lay off a bit, laughing at my childish antics.

Speaking of Eddie, I start to feel a sense of longing for him in this very moment. Ever since I’ve met him, I feel this constant sense of boredom when he's not around. He makes me feel alive and exhilarated. If he were here right now, we’d be laughing our asses off at everyone’s too serious expressions.

I feel myself smiling like an idiot at my thoughts, and glance up at the clock eager to see Eddie once again.

“Alright everyone, it’s 10:30! Time to wrap it up! For the long of God please make sure all your pieces have been written by tomorrow or principal Higgens will have my ass!” I yell out to everyone as they start packing up their stuff and heading out the door.

I’m one of the first to leave and as soon I exit the doors a pair of hands wraps around my waist, spinning me towards them. I come face to face with a smiley Eddie. My lips immediately separate and form a wide toothy grin. He pulls me closer as I laugh. Our noses are touching and he whispers, “There’s my little writer.” against my lips before giving me a quick peck on the lips.

He pulls away as I say, “Well hello to you too, Mr. Munson.”

We start to walk down the Hall as he wraps a protective arm around my shoulder.

“You know, sweetheart, I’m actually kind of digging this whole sexy teacher thing you have going on.”

“What do mean?” There’s a humorous tone in my voice.

“I was watching you through the window on the door. You’re all walking around revising people’s work, directing them, dismissing them.”

“You're crazy, Munson.”

“Only about you, Y/N, only about you. Almost makes me want to join the school paper.”

I’m laughing and Eddie is watching me with a content smile. I notice people are watching me and him walk together. It’s not unusual for this to occur, when people found out about me and Eddie, they were nothing short of shocked. Hawkins High had an idea of me, an idea that couldn't be any more different than the idea they had of Eddie.

Their idea of me is very clean. I’m a good student, I get good grades, I abide by the rules, I’m innocent in every way possible, I’m soft, a people pleaser if you will. I’m nothing more than good. Their idea of Eddie is extremely tainted. He’s not the brightest, he’s a rule breaker, he’s a stoner, he’s rough, he simply didn’t care. Where they right? Perhaps they were but that doesn't mean someone like me can’t love Eddie, and that Eddie is crazy in every way. You know what they say, opposites attract.

“They're staring again.”

“Hm, I guess they are.”

I hide my face in the crook of his arm not liking the attention.

“Well then let’s give them something to watch.” There’s a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Eddie-”

He cuts me off, kissing me once again, his lips move in sync with mine, and I can feel the tips of his tongue start to nudge my lip, asking for permission to enter my mouth. His hand moves down my shoulder to my waist, pulling me closer as we stop walking all together. I hear movement stop in the hallway and the nose level gets slightly more hushed. His hand travels back up my back and into the hair at the back of my head, twisting in my hair. One of my hands is grasping his bicep for leverage as the other holds my notebook. I let out a whimper, only quiet enough for to Eddie hear.

Before Eddie this wasn’t my thing, PDA that is, but since him, all I want is for him to act on his desires at any moment. It makes me giddy when I think about him wanting others to know about us, he wants poeple to know I'm his and he's mine. I think it's sweet, and like, insanely hot.

He finally pulls away, leaving me to hope we’ll resume this rendezvous later, in private. His lips are ever so slightly smudge with my pink lip-gloss and I can just feel how swollen my lips are, “What were you saying?” He asks me, smugly.

I shake my head, moving his hand back to my shoulder, “real smooth, love.”

People carry on with their judgmental looks and Eddie knows it’s making me conscious because he tips my head up with his free hand, “Hey sweetheart, people only care so much because they love to be envious when others are happy. Or at least I hope your happy.”

He adds that last part to lighten the mood.

“of course, you make me happy.”

He gives me a warm smile as I continue on, “People love to throw rocks at things that shine.”

“Exactly. And don’t you worry your pretty little mind because we are carrying on that little stunt later.” He winks at me pulling away, and slyly slaps my ass as we arrive at my next class.

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 4 years ago

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Quarantine Lovers (Part 3) | Charlie Gillespie

A/N: Happy Halloween, you guys! I hope you’ve had an amazing day so far, whether you go all out for the holiday or not! Hope you enjoy this little imagine-fic-thing of celebrating Halloween in quarantine with Charlie :) Love you guys! xxx

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Reader

Warnings: fluff

Words: 2, 827

Happy Halloween, Witches

Ah, 2020. The year that canceled everything thus far. No traveling, no real summer. You couldn’t even get back to work and neither could Charlie. You had spent your time writing up ideas for new shows and pitching some ideas over Zoom to the rest of the Outer Banks writing team. It sucked. Mostly because you couldn’t see any family or friends in real life. And now that October has come around, it seems nothing has changed much. In fact, it’s gotten even worse.

There was a second lockdown looming and you could just about see your perfect Halloween night shattering right before your eyes. Sure, you were just planning on inviting some friends over and watching horror movies, eating pizza and snacks, but it still sucked that wouldn’t happen now after all.

Charlie had noticed on Monday how bummed you were when you realized things were getting worse. He knew how much you loved the holiday and how excited you were to see friends and spend some time with them. So, he set his plan in motion.

On Saturday morning, you wake up to a cold, empty bed and the sound of clanging pans and cutlery coming from the kitchen. Confused, and still a little sleep-drunk, you get out of bed and slip on Charlie’s sweater to keep you at least a little warm since you were just wearing a shirt of his. (You’d almost think you don’t ever wear your own clothes anymore). From the little corridor that connects the bedrooms to the living and kitchen area, you can already spot him at the stove. Curious and a little endeared that he’d be cooking this early in the morning, you make your way towards him, only to be surprised by the living room being coated in full Halloween gear. Spiders in spider webs everywhere, pumpkins, skeletons, ghosts in every nook and cranny.

“Char… Wha--?” he turns to you, eyes widening first before his smile appears instead.

“Get back to bed, I was gonna wake you up with a song.” You walk over to him, peeking over his shoulder to what he’s making. Pumpkin pancakes. He’s actually making pancakes in the form of little pumpkins. Could he be any cuter?

“You’ve missed your true calling, baby,” you tell him and kiss his bare shoulder. A light chuckle arises from his body, making his shoulders shake slightly. You then turn around to eye the feast he had already spread out on the table.

Everything is in theme. Halloween doughnuts, a giant fake pumpkin with fruit seeping out of its mouth. You assume he just went on Pinterest to inspire him and then, when walking down the aisles in the shops, just grabbed everything that seemed even slightly Halloweeny. “Can I help you with anything?” you ask, looking around for a job to do. Charlie turns around to place the plate with a pile of pumpkin pancakes on the table, placing a gentle hand on the small of your back as he leaned past you.

“No, I got it covered,” he presses a kiss to your hair before turning to go to the fridge. “Sit down, baby.” Slightly disgruntled, you sigh and sit down on the chair closest to you.

“Why are we doing this, Gillespie? Got something to make up for?” you ask teasingly after taking another glance at the breakfast spread in front of you.

“Can’t I just surprise my girlfriend with the breakfast of dreams?” He asks and places a hand on the back of your neck while leaning forward to pour some orange juice into a glass. His fingers softly scratch your scalp, and you can’t help but lean into his touch. “Besides, I noticed how bummed you were about our plans with our friends falling apart, so I came up with a plan to make it the best Halloween I could, despite being stuck inside with me.” You nearly melt at this idea of his. He did all of this. For you. Just because you were bummed about cancelled plans. How did you ever earn a beautiful, good soul like him?

“I would’ve enjoyed just watching movies tonight with you, too, you goof,” you say, which sends a smile right up to his lips. “But thank you.” He leans down to press his lips on yours quickly before turning to grab a few more things and then joining you at the table.

“So, I have an entire day of fun things planned for us,” he starts when you take your first bite of pumpkin pancake, a delightful moan escaping your lips at the amazing taste tingling your taste buds. Charlie shoots you an amused look with risen eyebrows and a smirk.

“These are good!” you exclaim, “But go on, what are the fun things you planned?” Charlie is seemingly brought back into reality by that question as he slightly shakes his head and blinks his eyes a few times quickly.

“So, remember when you kinda joked we should go as each other for Halloween?” You nod your head slowly, that was something you did suggest as a Halloween costume last month when you were planning the whole night. All your friends would’ve come dressed up. It was mandatory to do so on Halloween, you thought. “I think we should do it. We should dress as each other and then we’re going to the shops to get us some tools and pumpkins…” Your eyes widen at this, already know what the rest of his plan is.

“We’re gonna carve pumpkins?!” you nearly scream. This makes him laugh, shaking his head at how freaking adorable you are with your little bounds of excitement. It’s the same way he gets excited about the things he’s passionate about.

“Yes, we are! And then we’re gonna bake some Halloween cookies, order pizza and watch movies all night long!” You shriek with exhilaration, and get up to run around the table towards your boyfriend, attacking him with your lips on his. He chuckles against your lips, pulling you down to his lap. You deepen the kiss while your hands tangle up in his hair. This makes him stop giggling as he melts right into you, his hands roaming from your waist down your thigh and back up.

“You are the greatest boyfriend, you know that?” you tell him when you pull back, resting your forehead against his and staring in his eyes. He pecks your lips once more before leaning over to grab a piece of fruit and feeding it to you.

“You deserve it, baby,” he tells you with a shrug whilst you grab another piece of fruit and hold it out to him to eat. “We both love Halloween, so it seemed a little lame to just watch movies together, you know? That’s a regular Thursday in this household.” You giggle at that. He’s not wrong. During lockdown, you’ve watched so many movies, you’ve lost count.

“I love you,” you whisper and kiss him again. The taste of strawberry still faintly on his lips.

“I love you too, like so much.” He plants another kiss on your lips before you both turn back to your breakfast, but staying where you are; on his lap. You feed each other fruit and pancakes and doughnuts whilst chatting about how excited you were about the entire day.

After breakfast, he let you get dressed first whilst he cleaned up the kitchen. You’d suggested to help, but he insisted on you getting dressed and ready instead. So, you do. You shower, dry your hair and curl it, then put on very minimal makeup, just to hide those bags and blemishes. As an outfit, you picked out some dungarees (because, let’s be honest, Charlie looked cutest in his dungarees), steal his Sunset Curve Summer Tour ‘95 shirt to go underneath it and your white Adidas on your feet. You also steal one of his snapbacks since his lockdown-hair has needed some support to keep it out of his eyes.

Once ready, you check yourself in the full-length mirror, then nod, satisfied with the ensemble. You can’t wait to see Charlie’s reaction to this costume of yours or what he has planned for his costume.

“Cover your eyes!” you yell into the direction of the living room.

“Covered!” he yells back, and you make your way cautiously into the living room where you find Charlie on the couch with his phone in his lap and his hands over his eyes. He looks like an actual toddler like this. It’s the most endearing thing you’d ever seen, so you quickly snap a picture before stepping in front of him.

“Okay, open.” He slowly takes his hands away from his eyes, and lets them wander over your entire body. His lips part as some excess air needs to leave his lungs from that breath-taking view in front of him. “You like it?” you ask, twirling around, so he can see the entire thing. He quickly places his phone on the couch and stands up, placing his hands on your waist.

“You look better in this outfit than I ever would, Gorgeous,” he mumbles before leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “You make me crazy, Y/L/N.” You comb your fingers through the front of his hair, making his gorgeous eyes more visible to you.

“Ditto, Gillespie,” you whisper and kiss him once again. “Now, you get dressed. I’m curious to see what you come up with.” After having kissed your nose quickly, he dashes past you and into the bedroom, leaving you all by yourself. It takes him about fifteen minutes before his voice chimes through the apartment.

“I’m ready! Close your eyes!” You place your hands over your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips in excitement. “Okay, open.” His voice sounds closer, a little teasing, even. You slowly remove your hands, your eyes widening and your mouth dropping at the sight in front of you. He’s wearing a loose, black boiler suit, complete with red-and-white belt, exactly how you’d wear it. On his feet, he’s wearing Dr. Martin’s ankle boots.

“This is the best thing I ever did see!” you exclaim excitedly as he makes a little twirl. “We need to take a photo!” You grab your phone from the pocket of your dungarees and get it set up on a self-timer and so that it takes multiple pictures in one take before placing it on the tv stand. Once you press the button, you hurry to Charlie, who has his arms open.

“Jump!” he says, and you quickly do so, wrapping your legs around his waist at the same moment your phone starts taking the pictures. For the next few, you keep your feet on the floor, leaning against your boyfriend. The first ones, you’re looking at the camera, but Charlie’s looking at you. Then you’re looking at him but he’s not. And on the last one, you’re staring in each other’s eyes with wide smiles on your faces. For the last group of shots, you squat down and cross your arms, Charlie following your example. In the second shot, you both hold your hand up in a rock sign, sticking out your tongues. The last one of that group of pictures is of both of you falling on your butts due to the lack of balance.

“Those last ones are hilarious,” he says, pointing at the ones where you’re both on your ass, throwing your head back with laughter. “Let’s go get our pumpkins now first!”

Back home with the two biggest pumpkins you could find, -- there weren’t very many left -- the two of you start by covering the floor with an old sheet before getting your new utensils out and starting the carving process. While you’re spooning out pumpkin seeds, there’s music playing in the background, and the two of you are talking about what you’re about to do to the pumpkins. Charlie’s going to go for a Pennywise face whilst you’re cutting out three ghosts. He couldn’t help but smile at that idea of yours. You really were the cutest when you’re in your element about this holiday.

“I think I’m done,” you say, leaning back to take a last look at the entire finished product. Charlie rests his head on your shoulder, peeking over to see your piece of art. “The guitars were really hard to do.” You point to Ghost Reggie’s bass and Ghost Luke’s guitar. “But the drumsticks were easy.” Charlie chuckles and plants a kiss underneath your ear, tasting a bit of pumpkin. This makes him scrunch his nose in disgust. Raw pumpkin does not taste that great.

“How in the holy hell did you get a little pumpkin behind your ear?” he asks and takes his finger to wipe any residue away.

“I’ve got no clue,” you say and turn your head to face him, only to find a pumpkin seed stuck in his long hair. A laugh erupts from your body, shaking you from head to toe. “You’ve got some in your hair.” He tries to pluck it out, but keeps missing, so you help him out instead. “I shouldn’t have showered this morning,” you laugh, shaking your head at your own stupid desicion. Charlie laughs too before getting up with his pumpkin in hands.

“Let’s put them on the kitchen island,” he suggests and makes his way there. “I’ll grab some tealights.” While he does that, you get up too and place your Julie and The Phantoms one next to his Pennywise one. They don’t look too bad in your opinion.

Charlie returns with two little tealights and places one in each pumpkin whilst you grab the matches, but Charlie stops you before you can light them. “It’s still light out, babe. That’s not gonna have much effect,” he chuckles. “We’ll light them later. Let’s bake now!” You nod your head vigorously and skip into the kitchen.

That afternoon is spent baking cookies and cupcakes, and ends in a food fight with flour everywhere. To say this is the best Halloween you ever had would be the biggest understatement of the year. Even though it’s not exactly how you planned it, it’s still the most perfect day ever, thanks to Charlie. And that’s not even all he’d planned.

By nightfall, the two of you had lit your pumpkins, placed the treats on the coffee table and had a movie ready to play on the tv when Charlie’s phone started to ring. A little confused and disgruntled about the interruption, you peer over his shoulder to see who’s calling him. Owen Joyner wants to facetime Julie and the Phantoms

Charlie glances at you with a smirk on his face before picking up the phone. The blonde guy you’ve come to love appears on the small screen, along with Jeremy and Carolynn, and Madison.

“Hey guys!” Charlie greets excited while you offer an excited wave.

“Happy Halloween, Witches!” Owen yells. That’s when you realize they, too, are dressed up. Owen has fake blood run from his lip and has a black cape draped over his shoulders. Carolynn and Jeremy are dressed as angel and devil whilst Madison is a witch.

“What are you dressed as?” Owen asks, peering at his screen to try and figure it out.

“Each other!” you reply, which sends all of them into a fit of laughter.

“That’s very original!” Carolynn compliments. “You rock those dungarees, Y/N!”

“Thanks, angel,” you retort, a little flustered at the compliment.

The FaceTime call lasts for about an hour and a half until Charlie decides to call it quits and start watching movies instead. You bid your goodbyes to your friends before cuddling up to Charlie as he puts his phone away.

“This has really been the greatest Halloween, Char. Thank you,” you whisper and lean up to meet his lips for a sweet, long kiss.

“Anything for you, Gorgeous.” You lie down on his chest again, getting kissed on the head as you do so. You can’t help but sigh happily. Charlie really went all out with the surprises. From the breakfast spread to carving pumpkins and baking Halloween cookies to the surprise phone call from the guys and even the costume.

That night, you post a bunch of pictures to Instagram. The first is one of the posed one of your outfits, then follows the one of Charlie covering his eyes on the sofa, your carved pumpkins and the one picture where you’ve both fallen on your ass after losing balance.

“Wanna thank this little goofball for going all out on my favorite day of the year. Guess I should be more bummed about little things from now on if it means getting pumpkin pancakes, dressing up as each other and all the other amazing surprises. Thank you, baby. You really are the greatest of all time. @charles_gillespie 💗 Happy Halloween, Witches! 🎃”

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theartoflovingthomashunt · 3 years ago

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My Light

Masterlists: [All Thomas Hunt x Alex Spencer] [Red Carpet Diaries]

Characters: Thomas Hunt, Alex Book: Red Carpet Diaries [Hunt x F!OC] Word Count: ~850 Rating: General Prompt: lighthouse: @choicesaugustchallenge

Synopsis: Alex decides Thomas would make a great lighthouse keeper, but he sees a different story. Alex pictures what a different life for them could be. *Fluff with a bit of angst, meet-cute*

Alex flopped onto the couch in Thomas's office. "Have you ever considered being a lighthouse keeper?" She questioned curiously, resting her chin on the back of her hand.

Thomas peered over the top of the script he was reading. He inhaled thoughtfully for a moment, "No." Then, he returned to the task in front of him.

"Oh, come on!" Alex pressed. "It's a perfect job, especially for you."

He glanced at her once more, which only encouraged her to continue.

"The seclusion and solitude, the quiet, the natural beauty, the lack of technology." She smiled at him. "Oh! And you'd just look so amazing and handsome in a cable knit sweater all the time."

Thomas quirked his brow, watching as she rolled over, looking up at the ceiling, carrying on with her list.

"You'd get daily exercise going up and down the stairs. You could take Bogart with you. You'd need a companion, obviously, and we all know you adore him—Just think about all the cinematic views and scenes to inspire you. And the mood! Think about the melancholia—the drama—a romance among the waves." She sighed dreamily, shifting her attention back to him. "It would suit you well."

"Clearly, you've given this some thought," Thomas stated, putting down the script. "Any particular reason?"

She shrugged indifferently. "Maybe in a different life."

"Is that so?" He got up from his desk and moved beside her on the couch.

She nodded, readjusting to rest her head on his lap. "It could work."

"Perhaps." Thomas stroked her hair tenderly. "However, I believe it is you who dreamed of different careers."

Alex reached up, her fingers caressing the coarse hair on his jaw. Her body warmed being with him. "This is true. Hmm—lighthouse keeper Alex." Her lips pressed together as she reconsidered her narrative. "I took over as lighthouse keeper from my grandfather, who had been the keeper for more than fifty years."

"Naturally."

"The scent of the sea, the spray of the crashing waves, and the beautiful horizon brought me much joy, but there was a longing, a sorrow for something unknown." She took his hand, playing with his fingers as she considered what life may have been. "A thrill of exhilaration came over me when I heard a big Hollywood movie was filming nearby. Unfortunately, I couldn't join in on the excitement buzzing through the small seaside town because a sudden storm was brewing off the coast—the worst in decades. My journey toward something more would need to wait as I tended to the light. At the same time, this brilliant but technologically opposed luddite Hollywood director took a boat out, not checking the weather app to see the storm warning. He was too focused on his vision and scouting the perfect location. Before long, the sky darkened around him, and the waters rose. The turbulent ocean raged, and darkness threatened to swallow him. The sea cares not who a person is, or whether they are deemed important or not; it claims lives to remind those who survive of its power and fury. It must be respected and revered."

He stroked her cheek soothingly. Her mind was a beautiful thing. He hadn't been one to trust in fate or destiny, but she made him question that. No matter how inconceivable her stories might be, they still made him believe that no matter what happened, where they were, or what lives they led, they would always find each other because they were meant to be.

Her eyes glistened as she continued weaving her tale. "The director was lost at sea for more than a day, the newspapers already foretelling a tragic end. Lighthouse keeper Alex kept the beacon of light shining over the stormy waters, holding out hope. Late into the next night, as the moon peeked out from the clouds illuminating the cliffs surrounding the lighthouse, she noticed something shimmering on the stones. She hurried down from her post, carefully descending the rocky slope toward the source of the reflection—a first aid, safety blanket. She pulled back the reflective sheet to find the missing man, beaten and battered by the storm but alive. Somehow he had made it to her shore."

"Without his boat?" Thomas questioned, engaged in her narrative.

"Yes. The boat had been damaged from the waves earlier. He managed to grab the first aid kit and a life preserver before it went down. He floated on a piece of wreckage for a day, using the safety blanket to shield himself from the bitter gusts. He was about to give up hope and succumb to the sea when he saw her light. He wasn't sure if it was real or an illusion, but he swam, fighting to get to it, hoping it wasn't the end of the line. She saved him, and although once he recuperated, he returned to his life, thoughts of her remained. He returned to her time and time again, unable to stay away, until they realized they belonged together. Their love was a bond that no storm or force could break."

The skin around his eyes crinkled, the corner of his mouth curled up in adoration. He gently wiped the tears slipping from her eyes. "You'll always be my light—" His lips brushed softly over hers. "—my hope, my love, guiding me home."

Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed this!

Tags in a reblog, please let me know if you would like to be added or removed!

#thomas hunt #thomas hunt x mc #thomas hunt x oc #thomas orson hunt #hunt x mc #red carpet diaries #thomas hunt rcd #alex hunt #alex spencer #halex #thomas x alex #fan fiction #playchoices #choices #professor hunt

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animepopheart · 4 years ago

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Wonder Egg Priority, Episode 11: “The Temptation of Death”?

Wonder Egg Priority is a beautiful, uncomfortable, moving and confusing series that starts out engaging all the things we don’t talk about—self-harm, abuse, rape, bullying, gender dysmorphia, and homosexuality, to name a few. Our silence and blindness to these issues have a weight and pressure to them, and WEP shows how this reinforces the isolation and hopelessness of the young women of the “eggs” who turn to suicide for relief. The first ten episodes have been exhilarating and exhausting alike.

And then there is Episode 11. This past week, the series took a bit of a turn, leaning hard into the sci-fi-philosophical, with appearances from Greek gods, a murderous artificial intelligence, and really, really disturbing insect girls, one of whom, despite being a brutal killer, is apparently a vegetarian. Has the show gone off the rails? Has it lost its way in departing from the familiar procedural approach of engaging a differing social or mental health issue with each episode?

Such a critique is perfectly legit, but before you write off the penultimate episode of WEP, just hear me out on why the abstract, meta turn in episode 11 may just be the most valuable thing this series has to offer so far.

Before we begin though, a little recap of what we learned this week. In episode 10, we hear the eggheads, Acca and Ura-Acca, discuss the need for warriors of Eros to battle Thanatos. This is our first hint that things are about to get lore-full and maybe a bit weird. Eros and Thanatos are of course gods in the ancient Greek pantheon, Eros being the god of love, and Thanatos, of non-violent death. Within the first minute or so of episode 11, it’s clear that the eggheads’ hope is now focused on Ai becoming the long-awaited warrior. At this point though, rather than continuing with Ai’s story, the episode shifts into flashback mode and we are finally introduced to the villain, an artificial intelligence created by the eggheads back when they were still human. Their lives gradually come to revolve around her: She is the fulfillment of their obsession to create life, and she is good.

Frill is associated with hydrangeas, which symbolise heartlessness and pride in Japanese flower language. But is it her heartlessness and pride, or that of her makers?

(Atelier Emily has done an outstanding series of posts on the flowers in WEP. Check it out!)

Only, it turns out she doesn’t play so nice when others join the happy family. After killing Acca’s wife, and putting the life of the unborn baby at risk, the AI—who named herself Frill—is unrepentant, all traces of her seeming humanity now revealed to be illusory, a mere affectation. Acca locks her away in a hole in the cellar. Years pass. The baby, Himari, grows up and is a ray of sunshine. But after effectively confessing to her ‘uncle’ (why does anime always do this?), she commits suicide. Ura-Acca discovers that Frill is still very much alive and active from her hole in the cellar, having powered up all the discarded monitors and laid down reams of electrical cables—to what end, we do not yet know. Though Ura-Acca surmises that she has somehow influenced Himari to take her own life. How else would the girl have known about Ura-Acca’s admiration for her mother? Where else would she have learned to make what will forever be to me now that uncannily sinister popping sound?

Here’s where it gets weirder. Unlike the suicides of subsequent egg girls, there is no indication that Himari, Frill’s apparent first victim, struggled with any mental health or other issues that would motivate her to take her own life. Indeed, her ‘uncle’ did not even reject her confession. (Again anime, why you do this thing?) Instead, the eggheads explain Himari’s suicide as being on account of the “temptation of death.” What now?

This is implying that death is somehow attractive, not just to someone facing overwhelming brokenness, trauma or pain, like the egg girls we’ve met so far, but to someone on the verge of stepping from a (relatively) happy childhood into young adulthood, with the promise of potential love to look forward to; someone who has not known suffering, but rather only smiles and cake. (To be fair, it is always possible that she experienced trauma in the womb, or was more deeply affected by her father’s sadness than Ura-Acca’s memories belie.)

That’s my question too, Ai.

The notion of death as somehow attractive or even beautiful is rather alien to Western culture. Certainly, there will always be some who romanticize death, à la star-crossed lovers (Shakespeare, I’m looking at you). But in general, Western culture views death as something ugly and frightening, something to avoid until it is staring you directly in the face, and even then, closing your eyes in denial is a perfectly reasonable response. Death is one of those things we don’t talk about. In my experience, Anglo-American culture is not very good at even mourning death. We lack the grieving rituals and observances of other cultures, and instead seek to confine death to the sealed, sanitized spaces of hospitals, care homes, and funeral parlors. We keep it shrouded tightly in silence. How could there ever be anything like the “temptation of death”? How could we ever consider death to be something desirable? Are the eggheads or CloverWorks simply aestheticising suicide and death here to make it sound deep and philosophical?

No, I don’t think that’s it. Instead, Acca and Ura-Acca are doing what all good researchers do—and indeed what all Christians, as believers in an unseen spiritual reality, are also called to do: They are looking more deeply into phenomena that seem, on the surface, to already be explained. The two idol fans were consumed with their obsession, so when their idol killed herself, they followed suit. The young woman whose identity was wrapped up in her own appearance ended her life to preserve her beauty. The abused gymnast saw no way out, no hope in ever living free from torment. Some explanations may be more sympathetic than others, but they all possess their own internal logic. Contemporary society is full of a vast array of pressures and stresses and each one, taken to breaking point, can result in death. Case closed. This might very well be our conclusion from the first ten episodes.

Only the case isn’t closed. Because there is a question that has pervaded every episode until now, but has remained unspoken: How is it that death could even become an option for the egg girls? Why does reaching a breaking point trigger suicide? What made death seem like a savior to these girls? This is the question that episode 11 tackles, in its own admittedly obscure way. The eggheads are focused on the underlying, deeper reality that unites all the eggs’ stories, as disparate as they are—the common thread, which is the idea that death is a release, a rescue, a beautiful ending, and as a result, it is tempting.

“But we wondered if there could be another push that drove them to suicide,” explains Ura-Acca.

This is a really important question for us to be asking. Because it’s not just these traumatized, vulnerable girls who fall for the seduction of death. We do, too.

Just ponder for a moment: Have you ever anticipated how wonderful it will be when, in heaven, you no longer struggle with that particular temptation? When your temper is no longer so short, when you’re not afraid of being hurt anymore? Or maybe you think about how one day, on those gold-paved streets, you won’t have to worry anymore. All your hard work coping and just keeping it together will finally pay off and you’ll cross that finish line and heave a sigh of relief, knowing that you made it in the end. Have you ever contemplated these kinds of things? I know I have.

But here’s the thing: When I expect my liberation to come only after I die and not right here, right now, then it is not Jesus who is my savior, but death. I am waiting for death to free me from temptation and sin and fear and brokenness, and usher me into eternal life. I make Thanatos my god.

The temptation of death is not limited to the drastic act of suicide, but also permeates all the accusations and fears that inspire us to put off living the fullness of life in Christ here and now. It’s the temptation to believe that it is death that will ultimately solve the more difficult and painful problems in life.

Acca and Ura-Acca seek to create a love that suits their ideals, just to relieve their stress.

The source of this “temptation of death” in Wonder Egg Priority is Frill, the AI. That is, a man-made, artificial version of love—with ai meaning “love” in Japanese. According to Ura-Acca, they made her “just for fun,” as a way of dealing with the stress of their enclosed lives. They designed her to suit their preferences, to make it easier to love her and forget that she was artificial. In this sense, Frill is the fruit of their self-centeredness, her every characteristic designed to satisfy their own ideals of how a daughter and woman should be. And this artificial love born of selfishness brings death into their midst and beyond, spreading it through the horrendous deformities of girlhood that she in turn creates, in imitation of her fathers. (Only perhaps her creations are less deceptive than theirs, wearing their monstrosity plainly on the outside…)

Frill’s creations. We’ve met Dash (right) and Dot (center), but who is that on the left? And is her name Morse??

To counter her destructive influence, Acca and Ura-Acca need true love, a genuine love. They need Ai, a messy, at times very weak human being, but one who nevertheless is willing to fight to live up to her name and maybe, just maybe, become a warrior of Eros.

There is also a deep, underlying force at work in our world, one that connects all despair and the actions born of it. A wide range of social issues, traumas and mental health challenges can and do trigger suicide, but they do not explain it fully. The deeper reality is the existence of an enemy who seeks to manipulate us into believing our true savior can only be death, whether it is right away by our own hand, or more subtly, decades from now by natural causes. But this is a lie, and it is one that we can combat. Just as I’m sure we’ll see in the final episode that Ai is equipped to wage the coming battle in WEP, so too are we armed, here and now, with the power to overwhelm the enemy’s “temptation of death”—we possess already the words of life, given to us by our true savior.

Jesus began his ministry with a public announcement that he had come to heal heart wounds, comfort those in pain, fill broken lives with beauty, and wrap those in despair with reasons to praise like a warm protective blanket, so that they might celebrate with joy once again. He came to bring freedom to prisoners and captives alike, giving a fresh new life to those locked up because of deeds done wrong, and those punished and injured at the hands of others. He came to take the outcasts, the weak, the traumatized and broken and transform them into mighty oaks, clean and strong; into people with the vision and skill and compassion and fortitude to rebuild a broken world (Isaiah 61:1-4, Luke 4:18),

He came to rewrite and restore our experience of life here on earth, and through us, to redeem our communities, cities, nations, and the world. God does not withhold the fullness of life from us until we finally make it to him in heaven. No, instead he moved heaven and earth to get right up close so that he could pour his own life out into us, even going so far as to breathe his very spirit into our hearts and bodies and minds. We don’t need to wait for death’s rescue—our hero has already come. But we do need to remind each other and ourselves of this truth pretty often, and let it work down deep into all the cracks and bruises in our souls until it strengthens all our weak spots.

In Deuteronomy 30:19, God tells the Israelites that he has given them the authority to choose between life and death. But he also tips the balances in their favor, urging them to choose life. In Jesus, he comes to tip the balances even further, making it possible for us to step into eternal life here and now, immediately and forever. So let’s do it. Each day, through each struggle we face. Let’s choose life and not death.

Warrior of love? And is Ai’s himawari (sunflower) related to Himari somehow?

Join me (in spirit) for the final episode on Tuesday to see Ai’s love triumph! (At least, I really really hope that’s what happens!)

#wonder egg priority #wep #wep frill #ai ohto #Christianity #blog #NOT by me but rather by one of our other writers: cajk2

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