ăăFLOWER GIRL AND WATER BOY
đđ âËâč⫠⊠Percy Jackson x Human! Florist! Reader
in which: Percy seems to always end up in your shop, no matter the circumstances.
authors note: y'all, I gotta come clean about this.. this was supposed to be a Frank fic but I don't think this would fit him đ. as much as I love my mans Frank, I gotta give him something that works with him, yk?
warnings: mention an injury & of death ( but only like once )
Having your own flower shop was always a part of the plan.
For generations, the very store you stood in has been a shop of any kind. Groceries, clothes, jewelry, booksâanything you could think of, it was probably stored in the place before. Though, after the death of your grandparent, the story was passed down to you. And since you loved flowers, of course you turned it into a flower shop.
Now, being a small business owner and a student in New York was pretty difficult. Especially getting money because most people would go to the bigger, larger stories with less authentic things. But thankfully, your friends and classmates made sure to help out.
They made flyers which helped more people come in, and they would come in whenever they could (even if they didn't need flowers.) They knew you ran the store by yourself, and you appreciated their help.
Though, there was one more thing you loved about having the shop open.
There was this boy that went to your school, Percy Jackson (who you found out that his real name is Perseus and not Percy,) that you weren't that close with. He seemed cool to you, of course. But something that kinda threw you off was that girls (and boys) just naturally traveled to him.
Look, a wise woman once said (aka you mother,) "don't go for a dude with too many girls (and boys) around him. It doesn't ever end up well."
So you took that advice with you everywhere you went. No matter how charming or amazing the dude was, he would always have to show that he didn't care about the attention he was gettingâand that he cared more about you than any of it.
And.. well, Percy had been showing that he didn't care.
Each time he would come into the shop, you thought he was here to get flowers from the shop for his potential next partner, but most of the time it was for his little sister or mom.
Or it was to talk to you.
You didn't know what he found so interesting in you, but he always found a way to talk himself into a conversation with you. Not that you minded, of course. Percy was a pretty cool dude. But there was something about him, like this odd feeling that you got in your stomach. But you just assumed it was you getting nervous.
But one day, Percy came into your shop (like he normally did,) but he seemed more nervous this time. More anxious, more afraid, and really? just not.. Percy. "Hey, Percy!" You greeted him, looking away from the flowers you were wrapping for a customer.
"Hey..Uhm, can I ask a really weird question?" He asked, walking up to the front desk.
You nodded and smiled. "Yeah? I work in a flower shop. I get asked odd questions all the time."
Percy slightly laughed, but winced. At that point, you had noticed he was holding his side. "So, I kinda fell off my skateboard and messed up my side.." He lifted up his shirt, showing the very obvious large, bleeding cut on his side. "Do you have a med kit I coul-"
At this point, you were already looking behind the desk for one. You knew you had one, with how clumsy a lot of passerby's are, sometimes you just need one. But that? I think we can both tell it had to be more than that.
"Here." You got back up and placed the medkit onto the desk. "You gonna need help with that?" You asked, looking at him with a concerned look.
"Would it be weird if I said yes?" Percy asked in return.
"Nah, it would be weirder if I said no."
[Little time skip :3]
At some point between you finishing patching Percy up, You could have sworn a customer had in. And since you were pretty much done with helping him, you were about to excuse yourself so you could help them out.
But before you could get up, Percy looked over at you. "Hey, Uhm, [Name]?"
"Hm?" You looked at him, a slightly confused look on your face.
"Thanks.. again. I know it's kinda weird to be helping someone you don't really know that well, but I really do appreciate it." He leaned up and smiled.
"No problem! I mean, you seem pretty cool and even if I don't really know you, it seems like you have a good reputation in the school." You nudged his shoulder.
"Do I?" He blushed. "I-I mean, yeah. I guess I do.." He rubbed the back of his neck.
"Can I say one more weird thing?"
"Go ahead."
"I kinda want to be friends with you..?" He said slowly.
"Why is that a weird thing to say?" You laughed. "I wanna be friends with you too, Percy."
"Really?" He asked in a surprised tone.
You rolled your eyes. "Yes, really. Now, if you excuse me, I have to go help this customer." You got up, but before you left, you gave Percy a smile.
And he smiled back.
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It Has Always Been You âą Joe Burrow Mini Series
Chapter 1: âHey, hey, hey. Whatâs with the staring?â
I'm Maisie, Maisie Moreau. The last name is in fact French. Before my mom and I moved to Athens, Ohio, we lived in Monaco. My dad was well known in Monaco because he was an f1 driver. My dad was amazing. Any chance he got, he was bringing me to the race tracks so I could either watch him, or climb in either him so he could show me what he see's every time he got in that car. Those cars that I grew up around, that I thought could do no wrong and were so cool, killed my dad. While he was coming around a corner, he lost control of the car and skidded off the track. Next thing I know, I was watching the car slowly becoming engulfed in flames. At the time I didn't really know what was going on, but my dad was trapped in his car and the rescue team didn't put the fire out soon enough. My dad died.
After that, my mom couldn't stand to live in that house...or in Monaco for that matter. Anywhere she looked, my dad was there, literally. Not only were there so many memories of him around the house or in their favorite restaurants or coffee shops, but there were pictures of him that people put out in remembrance of him. Don't get me wrong, it was nice to see that people were honoring him and his name after such a horrible accident, but we didn't want to keep seeing his face everywhere, it hurt too much. I was 7 when we left Monaco to come to Ohio. Don't ask me why we came to Athens, Ohio, though. Out of every single state that couldn't been home, she chose Ohio. The quiet, empty, high poverty and crime state. I would soon find out that that was the best decision my mom has ever made for us.
Coming into a new school as a second grader where everybody already knew everyone from first grade was scary-no, terrifying. My friends were all back at home and I expected to never find friends. Plus, even though I was raised around English and French, I kept forgetting how to say things, which just made kids laugh. I would come home crying most days asking my mom if we could go back home. I knew she felt terrible because it was a big change, Monaco...the richest country in the world, to Athen's, Ohio. That was until I met Arthur Burrow. Arthur saw me crying under the slide one day and asked me if I wanted to play with him and his friends, he said it was because I had a cool accent. The rest is pretty much history. We became instant best friends, and when I say best friends, I mean inseparable. Everywhere he went, I went, and everywhere I went, he went. Arthur even helped me with my English, even though I still struggle with it sometimes.
Not only did we become best friends, but my mom became best friends with his parents. I mean they kind of had to, Arthur and I wanted to hang out any chance we got. We spend all of elementary school together and when we finally were about to go into middle school, my mom thought it would be a good idea to take us all down to Monaco for a little vacation, even Arthur's parents and brother. My mom kept the house which led to a private beach because she couldn't part with it and frequently visited, so when we got back home, it was like nothing changed. It felt so good to be around people who talked like me. It was like a breath of fresh air. We spent that entire week pretty much in the water, where Arthur learned that he absolutely loved boats. I of course, only 11, asked my mom if we could take the yacht back home. She obviously told me that that was impossible.
I guess it's time that I should also mention Arthur's older brother of three years, Joe Burrow. When people think of Joe Burrow, their minds probably go to the quarterback from the Cincinnati Bengals, but not me. My mind instantly goes to my best friend's dreamy and charming older brother who always had our backs. When someone would make fun of my accent and the way I would forget some words in English, Joe was always there to put them in their place, girls or not. Joe wouldn't let anyone talk bad about his brother or me. You see? Dreamy. That was a crush that started off very very small, but soon got very very big. The first day I realized that I had a crush on him was when Arthur and I who were in 6th grade, went to watch Joe play in his first ever varsity basketball game. The way he ran up and down that court and shot the ball was like sugar rush to me...at least they felt similar.
While Joe was off at LSU being an amazing quarterback and proving everyone wrong, Arthur and I were figuring out ourselves and what we were passionate about. When I was 16, my mom got a call from a modeling agency, and just like Arthur and I, the rest was history. When I reached the age of 18, my name was getting a little bigger and I was modeling for more places than just local businesses. My first big modeling job was for Nike, yes, it may seem small compared to some, but Justice and Gap were even smaller. From there, I started to travel around a little bit for these modeling photo shoots and when I was 19, I modeled for Prada, which was like a dream come true for me.
When I was 18, though, Arthur and I both went to Ohio State. I went for fashion design and out of high school started up my own clothing business, which has skyrocketed these past few years because I really got my name out there with modeling. Arthur went first engineering and now has a big boy job making a lot of money, but obviously not as much as his brother who always teases him about that.
Also at 18, my mom decided to move back to Monaco. It was the second hardest decision's she ever had to make, second to moving to America after my dad passed away. My mom needed to move back, though. Not only to keep my dad's memory alive, but because she missed it so incredibly much. She missed her friends, going to f1 races, going on boat rides whenever she wanted, living near the ocean, and more. We all could tell that she wanted to go back, she just didn't want to leave me, but I wanted to stay. I couldn't leave my best friend. It was hard without her for a while, but we FaceTimed any chance we got, and I also visited whenever modeling, school, or work wasn't in the way. Lucky, I picked up a few modeling shoots with hermés and Dior in Monaco so I could go there for the shoot and stay for a weekend with my mom.
Another amazing thing that about being best friends with Arthur was not only watching his brother go from cute to hot and see him find himself, but also make it to the NFL. It was hard to watch him at OSU and being the backup to the backup. There were so many times where the three of us would go out to lunch and all Joe could think and talk about was football, and it wasn't positive things, really. It was about how he was always the backup and how he never got the chance to prove himself. It was hard on him and we hated seeing him struggle, especially when he hurt his hand and became the backup to the backup. It literally had been amazing watching Joe live out his dream in the NFL because of that. His football career started off extremely rough and not promising, but now he's doing amazing and is proving everyone wrong.
Not only did I get to watch my friend become amazing at football, but I got to watch him while having the biggest crush on him. It was hard not to. He wasn't just extremely attractive and amazing at football, but he was an amazing person. Time and time again he showed just how amazing he was. Whether it was standing up for me and Arthur, helping me with my English when Arthur couldn't, or literally just being himself, he was amazing. He was nerdy, funny, handsome, kind, intelligent. It was literally impossible not to have a crush on him. But at the end of the day, he was my best friend's brother, which meant I always had to push those feelings aside. It wasn't like I ever thought Joe would start to have feelings for me, because that was extremely impractical, but I didn't want anything to come between Arthur and I, and me having a crush on his brother could do that.
Just like we did in Joe's first year of playing in the NFL, we packed our bags and headed to Monaco for a week vacation where Joe could calm down and destress before the first game. Arthur and I always loved visiting Monaco because the legal drinking age was 18, meaning the day we turned 18, we took a trip over here so we could drink legally. Now, at 22, we didn't have to worry about that stuff. Currently, we were all on our yacht, soaking in the last bit of ocean before we had to leave and go back to Ohio. The new season starting back up meant the stress would eventually creep into Joe and he would be insufferable after the losses, meaning that Arthur and I were really soaking up the last bit of fun and stress free Joe. My mom and the Burrow's were all at the front of the boat relaxing and catching up while the three of us were at the back of the boat.
I let out a deep exhale, the sun shining on me feeling amazing. My eyes were shut and I couldn't help but smile. This life was amazing. From in front of me, I could hear Arthur doing flips off of the boat and into the ocean under us. It was moments like these ones that I wish I could live in Monaco. Not only did I love the ocean and the sun, I also loved being around people who spoke the same language as me. Arthur and Joe tried to learn, but they only know how to out a few sentences together. On this yacht, I could tell Joe could forget about the things he was worried about back at home and put his focus into having fun. "Maisie, come in! The waters great!" Arthur yelled up at me from in the water. With a small laugh, I opened my eyes and sat up on my elbows so I could look down and into the water a little bit. Unable to see Arthur, he swam back a little bit and came into view.
As soon as we made eye contact, I waved down at him and we both started laughing. As you can see, I am suntanning. I have a modeling shoot tomorrow before we leave and I want my skin nice and golden." I said with a little "hmph.' After hearing this, Arthur started swimming over to the ladder on the side of the yacht and started to climb out of the water, water trickling off of his body. Don't you dare. When he made his way over to me, he bent down a little so he was closer to me and started to shake his head and body, water getting all over me. "Stop it, you're like a wet dog!" I screamed in French while laughing and got up from the chair. "One, why are you always tanning, and two, slow down your French because I can't understand you." Arthur said and elbowed me in the side a little bit.
Usually when I talk fast or out of nowhere, I will accidentally speak French, which happens more than I'd like to admit, but Arthur just finds it funny. "One, it's a lifestyle, and two, I called you a wet dog." I said and laughed as I watched Arthur's face drop when he heard me call him a wet dog. Scanning Arthur's face, a small smile started to appear before he nodded to himself. "Don't you dare." I said and backed away from him, putting my hands out in front of me to shield myself. All of a sudden, he lunched forwards and grabbed me in his arms, lifting me up off of the ground. I started to flail and hit his back while we both laughed like crazy. "You let me go right now!" I laughed and flailed some more, but soon just accepted it as he got closer to the edge of the boat.
I let out one last scream as Arthur jumped into the water with me in his arms. As soon as my feet hit the water, I plugged my nose to stop any water from getting in it before I was submerged. Arthur let go of me once we were both in the water. After a few seconds of staying under the water, I started to swim to the top and as soon as I surfaced, I looked over at Arthur who was already fixing his messed up hair. "Now I have to wash my hair." I laughed and dipped my head underwater to get the hair out of my face some more. "Good, it looked bad anyways." He joked with me as he started to swim towards the ladder. All of a sudden, I heard the door on the yacht open up and stopped moving so I was floating in the water. I looked up to see Joe walking out. Damn.
Joe was in nothing but his swimming trunks, and obviously a pair of socks since he always wore socks-except in the water, that is. I couldn't tear my eyes off of him and the way every single muscle was showing right now. My eyes scanned over his thick thighs, his muscular arms, his toned abs with the perfect amount of love handles on the sides. I gulped a little at the sight of his perfectly tanned body as he strutted out to us, his chest a bit red from not putting on enough sunscreen, though his mom kept nagging him about it. I would be lying if I said this wasn't one of my favorite parts about being out on the yacht. I was pulled from my thoughts when Arthur started to climb out of the water. Following his lead, I started to climb out after him and crossed my arms over my chest when I couldn't find my towel.
"Your mom is going to start taking us back since you have a modeling shoot in a few hours. Unless you guys want to get in your workout and swim back." Joe said. Both Charles and Joe started laughing at that last bit, knowing I wasn't the best at swimming long distances. Arthur, still chuckling, looked me up and down a little bit and said, "Maisie would drown. She doesn't have the stamina for that." I rolled my eyes while ringing out my hair a little bit. A bunch of water fell onto my feet and onto the boat. I looked up at Joe and saw that he was carrying two towels. "Sorry, I'm not a football player and I'm not a gym rat like you." I said while shaking my head. Joe chuckled a little bit and said, "maybe you should go to the gym with Arthur...beef up those twig like arms while you're at it." I scoffed a little and looked down at my arms. They definitely weren't twigs, they just weren't as big as theirs.
"Thanks but no thanks. My arms are just fine. Plus, I do work out for your information." I said with a little smile and a shrug. Joe just chuckled and held out his hand which held my beach towel. Arthur already grabbed his and was currently running it over his hair to dry it off. "Here you go, Zie." Joe said. My face instantly flushed a shade of red as I heard him call me Zie. Yes, Joe's nickname for me was Zie. When I was younger, I absolutely hated it. Everyone either called me Maisie, May, or Maise, not Zie. I asked Joe just to pick one of those three, but he insisted on Zie because he wanted to be the only person that called me that. That nickname has been such a constant thing that now I even like hearing it because when I hear it, I know Joe said it since he's the only person that uses it. "Thank you, Joey." I reached out to grab the towel from his hand, but noticed Joes eyes go from my eyes to my breasts.
After I grabbed it from him, Arthur started to talk to me about something that I wasn't even paying attention to. All I could focus on was the fact that Joe was looking directly down at my breasts and not talking, just staring. After a few seconds of him looking down at them, he realized what he was doing and quickly looked away and cleared his throat. I wrapped the towel around myself and quickly grabbed my clothes from the chair I was sun tanning on a little bit ago. "Just make sure you don't fall in on the way back." Joe said and turned on his heal. I couldn't take my eyes off of his back muscles and the way his hair blew in the wind as he walked away from us and towards the front of the boat. I couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to run my fingers over those muscles and through his hair.
"Hey, hey, hey. What's with the staring?" Arthur elbowed me a little bit, noticing how I was staring at him. I tore my eyes off of Joe and looked over at Arthur who was putting his shirt on. Deep down, he knew I found Joe cute, and I mean...who wouldn't. It's impossible not to be face to face with a tall, handsome man like Joe and not find him cute. But Joe wasn't just cute...he was totally hot. What makes him even more attractive is his personality and the way he respects everyone. He's gently, caring, compassionate, romantic-and I'm rambling. See what he does to me? That stuff shouldn't matter to me because he's off limits. I couldn't do that do Arthur. Still, it's hard to get Joe out of my head.
"Oh as if." I said and punched his arm. Arthur nodded a little bit and smiled. "Yeah, well, don't get any ideas." He said and wrapped an arm around my neck, pulling me towards him and into a head lock as we headed for the door that led inside where we could get dressed. After a little bit, we finally docked the boat and we walked home, which wasn't too far away. When we got to the house, Arthur and I ran inside to see who could get the best shower in the house firsts, which was the guest bedroom that he stayed in. Why did he get the best shower? I have no idea. All I know is that it's the best in the house and I needed a good shower since I have a modeling shoot soon. We both pushed past Joe who was walking in front of us, making him stumble to the side a little bit. "You guys act like children!" He called out after us as we raced each other, though I could hear him laugh after. "It prevents wrinkles, you should try it!" I looked back at him for a split second while running. Luckily I turned around when I did because if I didn't, I would've totally ran into an end table.
Before I knew it, I was jumping over the couch to get in front of Arthur and then he followed after me up the stairs. Finally, I made it to the bathroom before him and turned around to face him, looking victorious. "Haha, I win, loser. Now shoo. I need to shower quick so I can get to my photo shoot." I said, shooing him away so I could shower. Arthur glared at me for a few seconds before accepting that he lost and walking out of the room and probably another shower. I grabbed everything I needed for my shower including my clothes and then locked the bathroom door behind me and started to strip away my clothes.
Instead of my normal everything shower that took an hour, I showered in 15 minutes since I was in a little bit of a rush. Turning the water off, I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around me as I shivered a little. Reaching over to grab my clothes which were in my usual spot, my heart dropped a little bit. "Damn it." I said to myself with a sigh, realizing that I forgot them on Arthur's bed. Now I was going to have to open the door and let all of the cool air in. Great. With another sigh, I swung open the door. "Arthur, I think Maisie left you without saying goodbye." Joe chuckles with his back facing me, expecting me to be Arthur. "Oh my gosh!" I said quickly, not expecting Joe to be in Arthur's room while I was showering. Joe looked behind him after hearing someone scream and looked just as shocked as me when he saw that I was in fact not Arthur and I was wrapped in a towel.
Just as soon as he faced me, he was turning around quickly and said, "I am so sorry, I thought you were Arthur." I gripped onto the towel around me so it didn't fall and backed up into the bathroom. I started to shut the door but made sure there was a big enough crack so I could reach my hand out. Just as Joe was about to walk out of the room and give me privacy, I said, "wait," quickly. Joe stopped in his tracks and turned his head to the side so his ear was facing me, but his eyes weren't. Part of me wanted him to look at me and never take his eyes off of me. "Can you hand me my clothes real quick? They're on the bed." I said nervously, feeling stupid for forgetting my clothes and making Joe look at me with nothing but a towel on.
Joe glanced towards the bed and when he saw my clothes, nodded and walked over to them. "Of course." He said and grabbed them, making sure not to unfold them. When he started walking my way, I quickly leaned back from the door so he didn't catch me staring at him and so he didn't see me. I heard his footsteps getting closer to the door and then he said, "alright, reach your hand out." I reached my hand out of the small crack in the door and felt him place the clothes in my hand. "Thank you so much, Joey." I said. "It's no problem, Zie." With that, I heard his footsteps again but this time they disappeared out of the room. I shut the door quickly and leaned my back on it after hearing Arthur's bedroom door shut. "Shit." I said to myself, slapping my forehead.
Once I got dressed, I walked downstairs to see everyone sitting down at the huge table eating a post yacht snack. I always call it a post yacht snack since every time we get off of the boat, we all snack so much. "Alright, shower is free Arthur. I'm going to head out soon. I'll see you all tomorrow." I said with a smile and towards the table. Once I got to the table, I hugged Jimmy and Robin from behind and told them bye and then made my way over to my mom. "Drive safe, sweetheart. I love you." My mom said once I wrapped my arms around her from behind. "I love you more momma." I said and kissed her cheek when she tilted her head near me and patted my arm. Once I pulled away from her, I walked over to Arthur who stood up from his chair.
I wrapped my arms around Arthur and hugged him tightly before we pulled away. When I walked away, Arthur flicked me in the shoulder. "You're a bitch. No wonder why you're still single." I said in French as I continued to walk. My mom started cracking up laughing while everyone else looked at me and then my mom, wondering what I said. "What did you say? What did she say?" Arthur asked me and then my mom from the table, Joe laughed and then said, "she probably called you a jackass, jackass, which is why nobody likes you." I looked over while laughing a nodded a little bit. "Honestly that was pretty close." I told Joe while laughing. I grabbed my Keys from the key bowl on the counter and headed for the door. Before I reached the door, though, I turned around and said, "I'll see you tomorrow. Bye guys!" I said and opened up the door, hearing everyone say bye as I walked out.
A/n: I know this one is short and pretty boring, but the next one is going to be way better, I promise! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! đ«¶đŒđ«¶đŒ
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the love witch
modern!eddie munson x fem!witchy!reader
summary: Eddie Munson is obsessed with his girlfriend. Hell, he's not even sure how he was able to get you interested in him in the first place. Despite him not really believing in your witchy practices, he's incredibly supportive, but that doesn't come without his cheeky digs. He agrees to a tarot reading for shits and giggles. You don't like that he doesn't take it seriously.
cw: no y/n, reader's nickname is 'witchy' , talk of the occult, wiccan practices, description of r's clothing, but no body description, reader has female anatomy, oral (F receiving), face sitting, sub!Eddie, dom!Reader, choking, slight biting, dirty talk, honorifics, unprotected piv (pls don't do that), ending leans towards the whole witchy vibe
word count: 4.8k
this and all my works are 18+ minors do NOT interact
Eddie Munson is one lucky motherfucker.Â
Living in a small studio apartment in the Haight-Ashbury of San Francisco, which he got a damn good price on.Â
He works at one of the many vintage record stores in the neighborhood, which pulsates with raw musical energy, almost as if he steps in the 70s every time he gets out of the front door of his apartment building.
Sometimes he just sits on his fire escape to fuck around with his guitar, inspired by the smells of incense coming from the crystal shops, the music coming from the vintage clothing stores and the pungent smell of lingering weed at all hours of the day.
And with the shaggy, long, brown curls, bullet belt and chains, his black cutoff band t- shirts and heavy lace up boots, he seems to fit right in- for the first time in his life.Â
Next to his record store there is one of the many crystal shops on the high street, a tiny little nook he always walks by on the way to work and snickers to himself. Thereâs no way people believe in all that.
He stops doing that once he meets you.Â
Eddie Munson is one lucky motherfucker because he crosses paths with you.
He meets you while he is on his lunch break, using those thirty minutes of peace to walk around and usually pick up some prerolls from the dispensary a couple buildings down, or he lingers in front of the guitar store on the other side of the street, ogling at a B.C. Rich or an Ibanez, spending his break in there, fucking around with a cool amp.Â
He meets you on an off day. A day where he doesn't feel like walking around, so he just stands in front of his store smoking a cigarette. You're walking a longtime client out of the crystal shop next door.Â
âThank you for that dried lavender, Janice! Iâll set aside some of that incense for you when we get the shipmentâ he hears you say. He turns around, snickers at your words while Janice passes in front of him, disappearing in the Saturday afternoon crowd.Â
âSomething funny?â you ask. Your voice feels smooth like honey wine. He turns around, and suddenly he doesn't feel like snickering anymore.
You look so pretty, the kind of pretty that is almost otherworldly. Like you couldâve come up in his head while planning a DnD campaign. Purple bell sleeve top, a long, black, flowy skirt and lace- up boots. Dressed like his own elven high priestess.Â
He realizes heâd been staring at you for a good silent minute. He nervously breaks eye contact to put out his cigarette on the sole of his Docs.Â
âSorryâ heh, just donât really believe in all that stuffâ he says, shrugging. In doing that, his evidently too- short shirt rides up, exposing a sliver of the skin of his tummy, which doesnât go unnoticed to you.Â
You lean on the doorframe of the store âWhatâs your name again?â you ask, a feline smile creeping on your lips.Â
He swallows âI um- havenât told you my- Itâs Edward- Eddie!â he corrects himself, you got him flustered âNobody calls me Edwardâ he remarks.Â
His stammer makes you smile, like he's a wounded puppy dog.Â
âAlright Edward Eddie, see you aroundâ and with that you disappear back into the store.Â
It takes Eddie a week to learn your name, asking the owner of the crystal shop you work at with no luck, then running into Janice a week later, who kindly tells him your name and then raves about you for a good ten minutes. Quite the hypewoman.Â
It takes Eddie another two weeks to ask you out on a date. You're wearing a long mauvish dress under a white cardigan when he sees you walk into the store. Your hair is pulled back from your face and he swears he sees stars in your eyes.Â
You say yes and agree to meet at a coffee shop, and by the end of the day, he asks you for a second date. And then a third, and a fourth, and by the arrival of fall, Eddie Munson has a girlfriend.
Eddie Munson is obsessed with his girlfriend.
He even jokes with his friends that his witch girlfriend put a spell on him. Made him drink a love potion, because he can't justify him being so obsessed with you.
Another thing he can't justify is you actually liking him. Sometimes he still needs to pinch himself to make sure it's not all a joke.
A pretty girl that looks like she's straight out of his DnD fantasies is dating him? There's no way shit like that happens to Edward Munson.
Although his apartment is right above the record shop, which means sneaking away for a quickie whenever you guys have matched up work schedules, he loves your apartment.
Twenty minutes away from Haight- Ashbury, in Twin Peaks, there lies your apartment. In an old building from the sixties or seventies, you have it decorated with tapestries and sun- catchers and rugs and pillows and cushions. It's a joy for Eddie's senses.
And with dating you, came Circe, your black cat who seems to have taken an almost immediate liking to Eddie.
Your apartment always smells like incense and candles, a smell you bring with you wherever you go. A smell Eddie loves. There are plants hanging from the ceiling and a big purple couch in the living room.
Everything is antique, lucky finds from thrift stores or flea markets. The table, chairs. The bookcases that hold your witchy books and your crystals.
The first time he comes over he picks one up. A carnelian.
"So, these pretty rocks are supposed to... what?" he asks, toying with every bit and bob on your bookshelf.
"They're crystals, Eddie. And each different one has a purpose. That one you're holding is a carnelian" you say, pouring him a cup of loose- leaf herbal tea, and pointing at the crystal with your nose.
"Okay, and what's it do?" he asks, toying with the smooth surface and going to sit on the ground next to you. He blows on his tea and takes a sip. He isn't a tea enjoyer, but for you he could be.
"Well, a lot of things, but primarily carnelians help boost sexual energy-" you get interrupted by Eddie sputtering out his tea. Some of it lands on you, which causes you to let out a shriek.
The ridiculousness of the situation is both endearing and hilarious. The poor guy probably didn't expect you being so blunt about your use of crystals to aid your sex life.
A giggle escapes you while Eddie tinges a deep shade of crimson from the embarrassment. He shakily sets down the teacup and saucer.
"Shi-shit sorry, lemme help you clean it up" he says, scrambling for the napkins on the coffee table to clean his mess up.
"You got some on me, Eddie" you say as you move your hair from your face to let him clean up the spit- out tea from your cheek.
"Oh my god, sorry lemme get that" he repeats, flushed.
He's shaky in reaching for the napkin to wipe your skin, afraid that he might have ruined his shot at dating you just because he cannot keep his mouth shut.
"It's honestly not a big deal, Ed. It was just funny for the most part" you smile at him, reaching your hand to lay his head on your shoulder. He breathes again.
Once he's calmed down he continues his curious interview.
"So what, do you put it up your pussy or something?" The idea of it makes Eddie's blood run slightly hotter. You laugh.
He blushes at your reaction, feeling slightly embarrassed once he registers what he had just said.
A sheepish "sorry" escapes his lips.
"No, no it's fine" you chuckle "not exactly. You just kinda charge them and set intentions. Then you can take it with you on, like, a date, if you wanna hope for something more" you say. He becomes very aware of his hard- on when you say that.
There is a thick sense of expectation in the air once those words leave your mouth. It could be the thick incense smoke floating around the room, or it could be the way you're looking at him like you want to eat him whole. Your faces get closer.
"I brought one with me today, actually" you admit. And he has never taken his shirt off so fast in his life.
So every time you hang out, he carries a piece if carnelian in his pocket, in hopes to repeat what happened at your apartment.
With time, he learns to carry a rose quartz with him, too.
Soon after, you begin gifting him crystals and bracelets to carry with him. He likes his black tourmaline beaded bracelet the best.
"It's for protection" you had said. It's just very metal to him.
He never really believes in it, but it's sweet, seeing you show up to his apartment with little colorful rocks to put on his windowsill. You teach him how to recharge them and set intentions, but after the second or third time he just can't be bothered.
He quickly learns it's not just pretty rocks you're interested in. You're, like, a full- fledged witch. Hence, the nickname 'witchy' he'd given you.
You ask him for the time and place of his birth. He scrambles to text his uncle Wayne to ask if he remembers what time he's born.
After a couple days of searching, Wayne comes across Elizabeth Munson's old diary. Indianapolis, Indiana, December 21st, 1997 at 3:47 AM.
Eddie Munson has a birth chart.
Sagittarius sun, Scorpio moon, Aries rising.
Whatever that means.
You try to explain it to him, but to no avail. He doesn't really care much for the stars. Except the ones in your eyes.
He swears he can see them twinkle every time you're laying on your brocade rug in the candle lit living room. He learns you don't really use your couch, rather, you just lay on the floor, among a pile of pillows.
Sometimes you're watching TV together. You're sat in between his legs, leaning against his chest, while Circe lays on your lap. And you look at his palms, tracing the fine lines and ridges of his calloused hands.
"You have lines on the top of your hand" you whisper, kissing his fingers.
He blows the cigarette smoke out the open window, careful not to make your house smell.
"Yeah, no shit. We all have 'em, witchy" he places a kiss to the crown of your head.
"No, look right here" you say, tracing the faint lines right where his callouses are "lines like this means you're gonna have a long life" you kiss that spot on his hand. Coarse, but warm.
"Thank fuck, imagine if i just got hit by a cable car tomorrow?" he chuckles, going back to watching TV.
You trace a deep line that goes across the palm of his hand, you smile to yourself.
"Whatcha smilin' about, witchy?" he says, eyes still glued on the TV.
"You have a double heart line. Means you love a lot" you turn and give him a smile. One of those that make your eyes sparkle in the candlelight.
"If I have a double heart line, does that mean I love you more?" he asks, sickly sweet. He cringes at himself for swearing he wasn't going to be that guy, but when you look at him like he just hung the moon for you, he can allow himself to be disgustingly sappy.
You think about it, because he does have a point, but you don't want to make him win this two- month long game you've been playing, so instead you take his palm once more.
"Look, Ed" you say, pointing at a random prominent line "this line tells me you're an asshole" you laugh, as he pinches your sides and you try to squirm away, but his hands are holding you firmly while planting sloppy kisses everywhere he could reach.
Cheek, neck, shoulder. He inhales the curve between your neck and shoulder, and you swear your feel a bit of tongue poke out between his lips. Then he stops.
And you feel it. Deeply seated at the bottom of your back, pressing against the exposed skin between your shirt and pants.
Eddie loves the way you smell, intoxicated by the smell of lavender incense and some kind of berry perfume you wear.
He's convinced that perfume is actually just a pheromone concentrate, because he cannot stop the blood rushing to his dick everytime he catches a whiff of the sweet berries, nestled in the crook of your neck, behind your ear.
"And where's the line that tells me I'm gonna get a kiss?" Eddie asks, voice low and gravelly, a voice that fills you with need, makes your breath falter from your lungs, replacing it with water. But you kiss him nonetheless, and maybe him getting a kiss is written in the stars, after all.
He softly grabs your hair as he slips his tongue in your mouth. Honey- wine whimpers falling from your lips, as you try and get Circe off your lap and in literally any other room. The cat seems to be unbothered.
"Ed... she doesn't want to move" you whine, high pitched voice expressing annoyance, but also overwhelmed at how cute your cat is.
"She's the biggest cockblocker in history" he mutters annoyed, you laugh. A groan leaves his mouth.
"Leave her alone she's just a baby! Us having sex tonight just wasn't in the stars" you shrug, light and airy as you go back to leaning on his chest and petting Circe.
Fuck the stars. He huffs, accepting his fate
He waits for you outside of the shop when he's not working. Guitar case slung around his shoulders, so he can practice at yours, he picks you up and you take the train to your apartment.
"How was work today, witchy?" he asks, roping a hand around your shoulders and giving you a tender kiss on your head.
"Meh, a. bunch of wannabe Tiktok witches, a bunch of old ladies booking tarot readings and threatening to leave bad reviews because I told them their husband is cheating on them or something" you shrug getting on the bus "Janice came, though, she brought me some jasmine flowers so I can make love tea" you say, sitting down. He sits next to you.
You take out the small satchel of dried jasmine flowers, taking in the sweet scent of citrusy flowers.
"Love tea?" he asks "that what you give me when I come over to your apartment every time?" he dips his nose in the satchel, giving it a sniff.
"Yeah, you wish" you laugh "just peppermint tea. Don't want you accusing me I put a love spell on you" Eddie smiles and lays your head on his shoulder while you play with the tassels of your bag, letting you close your eyes for the twenty minutes of the train ride.
Once you're home he slings the guitar case off his shoulders and takes it out, sitting at the stools of your breakfast counter, while you empty the contents of your bag.
Herbs, oils and a new card deck.
"So, what do you need to do now?" he asks, pulling out his phone, looking for guitar tabs to practice on.
"'kay, so" you begin "I need to make tea blend, then putting stuff together for this new project I'm working on, and then break out this new deck I got from work" you say, lost in the mysticism of your to- do list.
Sometimes he finds it funny that the stuff you have to worry about is totally otherworldly to what he usually worries about.
He watches you break out the mortar and pestle while you measure a teaspoon of dried rosebuds, a teaspoon of dried lavender buds, a teaspoon of jasmine and a pinch of cinnamon. He mindlessly plays a couple chords from a song he heard at the record shop.
"What's the cinnamon for?" he asks, pointing at the jar.
"Spicing things up? Cinnamon is a spice, so could be. I'm trying out this new recipe" you say, grinding the flowers together.
"So what you're saying" he begins, looking up from his guitar "is that you're making sex tea" and the feline grin plastered on your face is enough to make you wanna smack him in the head.
"This is not sex tea, Edward" you interject sternly while pouring the contents of the mortar in a new jar.
You light an incense stick, a rose infused one, to set your intentions for this batch, then putting it to rest on your windowsill for the night.
"What are you doing, witchy?" he asks, following your gaze as you set down the jar.
"It's for the moon. Charges the tea" you say, nonchalantly "can you pass me that deck on the counter, please?" you sit on the carpet legs crossed, while Eddie reaches for the card deck and tosses it at you. You catch it.
He sets down his guitar against the counter to goes to stand in front of you as you take the tarot cards out of the deck and start shuffling them.
"What's that baby?" he asks, he swears he can never stop learning from you.
"My new tarot deck, I need to break it out. Want me to give you a reading?" you ask, hoping he'll say yes.
He truly thinks about it, because he doesn't believe in any of this stuff, but saying no to you and watching your eyes darken with sadness is something he doesn't want to put himself through.
He is a weak, weak man.
He shrugs. "Alright then" he says, sitting down on one of the cushy pink pillows on the floor of your apartment "gimme a reading, you little witch"
Your ringed hands shuffle the gold filigree cards.
"I'm gonna do a regular spread, 'kay? Just past, present, future" you look at him, and he swears he sees your eyes twinkling again in the light of the glass lamp on the side table.
You fan out the cards on the carpet and let him pick three cards.
He's reluctant about this, all he really wants is to cook dinner together and spend the evening with you.
You spread the three cards out and unveil the first one.
"Okay, so that's The Empress. Means you have a significant female figure in your life. It usually represents feminine beauty, abundance" you say, explaining it to him.
"You got some abundance, alright" he huffs a laugh, quickly silenced by a deathly stare. You didn't like it when he made fun of what you liked. You roll your eyes at him.
"Sorry, witchy. Keep going" he smiles, like he's about to crack another joke.
"Yeah, okay." you flip the middle card "what luck. You got the lovers" you say, unenthusiastically.
Eddie's eyes light up at the possibility of a joke "Is that the card that tells me I'm getting some sick pussy in the next five minutes?" he asks, his tone makes you want to throw the empty box of cards at his head.
"It looks like you're not taking it seriously, so what's the point" you go to stand up, but he stops you.
"Sorry, baby, please don't leave. I'm enjoying this, Sorry, I won't make any more jokes, I promise" he pleads, and a wicked idea sparks in your head. He sounds really pretty when he begs.
You let out an annoyed groan as you sit back down and you unveil the last card, his future.
Ace of wands. Sex really was in his cards tonight.
"What's that, baby?" he asks.
"Ace of wands. Looks like you're gonna get some 'sick pussy' after all, Munson. Lie down." You command.
He flushes red. "Huh?" you reach under your long skirt to remove your panties.
"I said lie down, I'm giving you what the cards said" you stare at him, expectation in your eyes as he lays down on the brocade carpet, unsure if he should feel afraid or like the luckiest motherfucker alive.
"Better put in the work, pretty boy" you say, crawling on top of him, he looks at you, eyes blown as you lift your skirt, climbing the length of his body. You reach a resting place right on top of his mouth.
It takes him a second to register that you're sitting on his face, and his tongue darts out of his open mouth, to shyly have a taste.
"C'mon now, Eddie, where is the passion? You seemed really passionate about cracking jokes earlier, didn't you?" you cooed, holding up your shirt to look at his eyes, twinkling and darkened as his tongue begins to lap up the length of your pussy.
He gets the hang of it as your hips begin to grind on his face, his tongue darting in and out of your hole as his nose bumps deliciously against your clit.
"Mmm fuck" you gasp as you raise your hips to let him breathe, but he just pulls you down harder. A gasp escapes your mouth as the sound of your moans and Eddie's slurping fills the room.
Even he hears it, because you can see his eyes roll to the back of his head as a resounding hum escapes his lips, vibrating against you, wet and sensitive.
A whine leaves your mouth as you begin to get more desperate, grabbing a handful of his hair, grinding your hips harder against his tongue.
"Doing so good for me, Ed." you say in a feeble attempt to keep the reins controlled, but his tongue works magic on you, making your brain turn to mush.
"There you go don't stop, don't you dare fucking stop" you command, and his tongue flicks against your clit, catching it between his teeth to begin to suck at it.
A mewl leaves your lips, feeling the familiar warmth in your belly begin to form as you pull harder on his hair, moans becoming more high pitched and strained as Eddie makes quick work of his tongue on you.
"'mgonna cum on your face, you want that?" you ask, a rhetorical question, because of course he wants you to gush all over him.
And so you do. You come with a silent scream, riding the orgasm out with the last few snaps of your hips, as your breathing stills and your vision goes white.
Eddie's also panting like a dog under you, aching in his pants for you to make him cum.
You get off his mouth, his chin coated with your fluids as he gathers them on his fingers and sticks them in his mouth. You can't help but mutter a "good boy" as you reach for the belt of his pants.
"Sit up" you command, as he goes to straighten his back and lean against your purple couch.
You take off his shirt "I'm gonna ride you, yeah?" he looks at you like you've just discovered that aliens are real.
"God, yes please, please" he says, looking up at you as you unzip your top off, and you swear his eyes grow bigger at the sight of your chest, your bra still on. A longing sigh leaves his mouth.
You unbutton his jeans and lower them to his mid thigh along with his boxers as his cock slaps against his tummy. He hisses at the feeling as he watches you align yourself on top of it.
"You want it, Ed?" you question, an aura of cool, calm control exuding from you.
He whines. "Please, I want it so bad. Please put it in" he begs, and you've never realized how pretty his voice sounded when begging. Whiny and high pitched, nasal, almost as if he were about to cry. A prayer for you to fulfill him, make him whole.
Like he is nothing without you.
Is that what it felt like for him to see you crying on his cock every night? A rush of power washes over you, as you motion to sink down on him, but quickly going back up.
He lets out a whiny cry, a bratty child without his candy.
"Uh- huh. Beg me to fuck you, Ed" you say. You swear you can feel him shiver, his cock jumping from underneath your skirt.
"F-fuck, please. Please fuck me. Please my love, my witch, my high priestess" he rambles, your hand creeps up his thick neck, wrapping around it "fuck mmm please, I'll do anything. I'll give you everything" a frenzied speech, his words speed up at the feeling of your nails scratching the skin of his neck.
He'd let you sacrifice him to the devil if you asked him.
Feeling his pulse point with your nails as you begin to squeeze the sides of it, a needy gasp escapes the pretty boy's mouth.
Flushed a pretty red, sweat clinging to the base of his neck and forehead, hair curling and sticking to his feverish skin as you begin to sink down on him.
Inch by inch, slowly feeling him fill you up, as a quiet "oh" escapes you once you've taken all of him.
His breath is quick and labored, quiet pleas rolling out of the sweetness of his tongue, where the taste of you lingers. The love potion you'd been administering him all along.
Eddie Munson is not a religious guy, but if he needs to pray to his goddess to get you to fuck him he'll do it.
But you start moving. A slow, feline movement of your back, almost as if you and Circe were the same creature, a shapeshifter from another world. A goddess, an empress of his body and mind. He was wrapped around your finger.
Your hands tighten around his neck as you grind yourself down on him, he whimpers.
"Mmmm, so big" you mutter against his ear, biting his lobe. And everything you do makes him whine and buck himself deeper inside you, hitting the spongy walls deep inside you, needing more of you. Needing you to swallow him whole.
And you comply, raising your hips and lowering them, bouncing yourself on him as if you were only using him to chase your own pleasure. The thought of it makes Eddie shiver and moan, a strangled sound coming out of his constricted throat.
He hopes your hand leaves a mark on his neck, so people know he's yours. So people know that the witch next door spelled him and he is now in love with her. He never wants to get away from her.
"You- you're so good" he whispers, hips rising and falling on his cock, head lolling as you feel yourself get close again.
"Yeah, baby? Thank me, then. Thank your goddess for making you feel so good" you command, and his hands travel through every inch of your body, feeling every ridge and crease and bump. Wanting to feel you, wanting to worship you.
"F-fuck, thank you, thank you, thank you." a prayer to his goddess, for making him feel so good. "Please more, I- I'm so-"
"You're close aren't you?" you coo, cradling the back of his head with your free hand. Making him look at you.
"'M so close, please let me let me let me please" he begins to chant, too far gone from the feeling of your nails digging on the sides of his neck, scratching his sweaty scalp, tongue tracing the outline of his lips as quick and labored breaths escape him.
"C'mon, cum for me" you whisper in his ear, letting go of his neck and latching your lips onto him, leaving a few purple bruises on his milky skin.
You feel him spill inside you with a whine, shivering, while you ride him for all he is, chasing your own release.
You follow him soon after, biting down on his shoulder. The taste of his sweaty skin lingering on your tongue.
You stay clung to him for a few minutes after, quiet and panting as he revels in the post- orgasmic feeling you've just given him.
"Never thought I would've been the submissive type" he huffs out with a laugh as you climb off of him.
"Well, you're welcome. Gonna go have a milk bath, be right back" you stand, reveling in the feeling of his spent spilling out of you.
He hears the shower turn on and as he's getting dressed, Circe comes to nuzzle on his lap.
He raises an eyebrow.
Where has she been the whole time? The rooms of your apartment were all open when you got back. She was probably just taking a nap in your bed.
He shrugs as he delivers a couple pets to her head.
Meanwhile in the bathroom, a spell book is suspended mid air as you look a spell to get rid of a hickey that Eddie had left on your neck.
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