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monzabee · 1 year

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a vettel and a schumacher walk into a bar – ms47

masterlist || part 2 ||

Summary: The one where Mick is dating Seb’s eldest daughter, but forgets to mention this to his mentor and close friend. Another problem? He can’t seem to keep his eyes (or his hands) off of you.

Pairing: mick schumacher x vettel!reader

Word Count: 3308

Warnings: sweet angel baby mick, fluff, slight angst, seb and hanna being the coolest parents ever, haas trauma, sexual innuendos (made by mick, gasp!), allusions to sex, mentions of teen pregnancy, google translate german + my dad as a german dictionary (beware!)

Request: “Could I request a smau where mick is dating Seb’s daughter but like Seb doesn’t know and he’s trying to play wingman to get the two together and when they reveal they’re together he’s like really happy for them (sorry if this is confusing I hope you get what I mean😭😂) and if you do choose to write this thank you ❤️”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i kind of changed this request a little bit, but only because i will be doing a part 2 as a social media au to follow this in the following days, so i hope it is okay. i always enjoy reading mick fics with vettel!reader and seeing the dynamic between the couple and seb in those, so it was very fun for me to write this. thank you anon, for your request and hopefully you don’t mind that i’ve changed it a little bit. i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

One of the cool things about you and your parents is the fact that you have a very honest relationship. Maybe it’s the fact that they had you when they were both, basically, teenagers, but there is no secrets kept on either part of the relationship. So the bad thing is, you don’t really know why and how you haven’t told your parents yet – you know, considering the fact that you do tell them everything. Your dad accidently washed and shrinked your favourite jumper? He apologizes and tells you he’ll take you shopping. You accidentally hit your car while parallel parking? You tell your mom and she tells you she’ll deal with it. You’re dating your father’s idol’s only son, who happens to be one of his friends, and forgot to tell your dad? Yeah, that’s not that simple.

“We need to tell him.” You say to Mick, pacing around in your room whilst he driver is sat on the couch in your parents’ living room.

“Of course we have to tell him, but how?” Mick muses, his knee bouncing up and down with anxiety. “Jesus, how did we forget to tell him? It’s Seb!”

“I know it’s ‘Seb’! He’s also my father!” You exclaim, hands nervously going to your hair to pull at the roots. “Mick… I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Hey, hey, no.” He shushes, getting up and walking towards you. “It’s going to be okay, hase.” He assures you while gently prying your hands from your hair.

You scrunch your nose, a unapproving hum leaves your lips. “Why must you call me that?”

“Because you look like a bunny when you scrunch your nose, which is always.” He explains, shrugging as he presses a kiss against your cheek and sits back down. “When you’re smiling, when you’re angry, when you’re confused, when you’re about to cu–”

“Mick!” You exclaim, eyes widening because of the way he was about to conclude his thoughts.

He has an innocent look on his face as he asks, “What? I was going to say when you’re about to cumulate.” He carries on the expression for a few seconds, letting the small smirk take over his lips afterwards as he eyes you.

“I’m not letting you touch me for a week, Schumacher.” You announce, shaking your head as you leave the living room to go to the kitchen to get yourself a drink. “How’s that for cumulating?”

“Hase, I was joking!”

The fact that your dad is officially ‘retired’ means that you can spend much more time as a family, which makes him very happy. You make a conscious effort to be home with your sisters and parents in Switzerland when you get breaks from university so the whole family can spend some quality time together. So there you are, all five of you sat in your parents’ backyard around the patio table, enjoying an early dinner. And though you absolutely adore the time you get to spend as a family nowadays, it’s hard to partake in conversation or appear interested in the slightest when your brain is focused on a certain someone with the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen.

“Honey, pass the salad, please?” Your father asks from the head of the table.

You pass him the bowl without meeting his eyes, or showing any kind of interest. “Sure, dad, there you go.”

“Thanks, honey.” You dad mumbles, sharing a look with your mother and waiting for you to make another comment – he’s confused when it doesn’t come. “No comment? No rolling eyes? No ‘get it on your own, old man’? Hanna, are you seeing this? I think we finally broke Y/N!”

Your mom rolls her eyes while lightly slapping your dad’s arm. “Are you feeling okay, kleine biene?”

“Are you sick, liebling?” Sebastian asks, and then turns to Matilda. “Do you want to check if she’s okay, Doctor?”

“Yeah, I’m just tired, I think.” You assure them, giving a small smile to Matilda who’s already taking out her (toy) statoscope to check your heartbeat.

“Shhh!” She shushes you as she focuses on listening to your heartbeat, and you share a knowing look with the other members of your family, all four of you intend to entertain Matilda’s new obsession. “She’s fine, papa, her heart is beating so fast!”

“She’s sitting down, Matilda, why would her heart beat so fast?” Emily questions from her place next to your mother, shooting an unamused look to your youngest sister who sits next to you.

“Be nice, Em.” You chastise her, shaking your head slowly. “Thank you, Doc.” You ruffle Matilda’s hair as she beams up at you. Then, you turn to your dad with a playful look on your face. “Next time, I’m not being nice and handing things to you, just so you know.”

It’s much later, and you’re in your room working on a piece you need to get done for your art class, when your mother knocks at your door. She comes in with a calm smile on her face when you answer the door. “It almost looks finished!” She beams, standing behind your chair as she studies the piece.

“I just need to work on the shadows… I think.” You mumble, tilting your head to the side to look at it from another perspective. “I don’t know, mama, I feel like my eyes are about to explode. Remind me why I chose art, again?”

“I think you were going through a rebellious phase and wanted choose something furthest away from engineering.” She explains, then she takes the paintbrush in your hand and places in the cup filled with water which you used to rinse out your brush. “I wanted to speak to you about something.”

“Oh god, this takes me back to high school.” You whine, spinning in your chair to look at her. “Am I in trouble?”

“Honey, you’re past the point where I can tell you you’re in trouble or not.” She takes a deep breath. “I wished you would stay my little girl forever, but unfortunately, you grew up to be this kind, considerate young woman I hardly recognise anymore.” She jokes as she sits down across from you on your bed.

“Good thing we still have Emmy and Tilly, then.” You smile, pointing to the door. “Are they asleep?”

She chuckles. “They went out immediately, your dad was telling them the story of the ‘Happy Tree’.”

Your hands move towards your cheeks, a laugh escaping you. “Oh no, not the story of the ‘Happy Tree’.” ‘Happy Tree’ being a childhood story your dad made up to put you to sleep when you were particularly being difficult as a kid, the entire story aiming to put you to sleep by being the most boring thing you’ve ever heard. You’re pretty sure at some part of the story your dad just counts – claiming that it is the age rings of the ‘Happy Tree’.

“Yeah, they didn’t stand a chance.” Hanna laughs. “Now, tell me what’s been bothering you.”

“Nothing, mama, really. I’m just stressed because I need to finish this before I go back.” You try your best to assure her. “Where’s dad anyway?”

She waves her hand and shrugs. “Who knows? He was going to talk to Mick before we went to bed the last time I saw him.”

“Mick?” You ask – a little too quickly for your mom to not notice the way your cheeks light up at the mention of the driver. You fake a cough to hide the any noticeable reactions. “I didn’t know he was back.”

Hanna eyes you with a suspicious look. “I think his plane landed a few hours ago, he took an earlier one.”

“Oh, okay then.” You mumble, your expression visibly falling tells your mother everything she needs to know.

“I thought you’d be happier to hear that he’s back, honey.” You mother tells, you confused.

“I am– I mean, we’re friends.” You shrug.

“Just friends?” Your mother asks, expecting for you to finally admit your feelings for the boy.

You take a deep breath and look at your mom with a guilty expression. “Mama, I have to tell you something.”

“Lieber Gott, stay right there,” She exclaims, running out of your room, “I’m going to get ice-cream!” Needless to say, your mother is very happy to hear that you’re in a relationship with your boyfriend.

After Mick’s plans of surprising you were ruined by your mom, the two of you decide to spend the weekend together to make up for the past two weeks Mick’s been away. Since you can’t tell your dad where you’re actually going, you tell him that you’re going camping with some of your friends from high school; you mom gives you a knowing look, and a shake of her head. Though it makes you feel guilty, you promise yourself that you will talk to Mick this weekend and come clean to your father afterwards about the fact that the two of you are dating.

So there the two of you are, laying in his bed on a Saturday morning after the not so innocent activities of last night. There is an unusual feeling of heaviness across your chest when you wake up, which causes you to wake up groggier than usual. Your eyes are unfocused at first, causing you to scrunch up your face in discomfort as you try and get used to the light in the room. Once your eyes are feeling better, you let them look around Mick’s bedroom, which is surprisingly tidy for a man, you realize. Eventually your eyes fall on the sleeping driver next to you, on his stomach while his arm is pinning you down on the bed next to him. You let your body twists towards Mick, seeking the warmth of his body even though the covers over your body provides the same. Even in his sleepy state, he accommodates your body, pulling you towards him and cuddling you in a way which makes you feel as if you’re in a safe cocoon consisting of Mick. Your eyes close by themselves, the warmth surrounding you combined with Mick’s steady breathing lulling you into another sleep, when his fingers start to draw mindless shapes across your naked back and there is a small smile on his face as if he’s trying to keep his laughter in.

“You’re watching me, hase.” He mumbles, keeping his eyes closed even though he lets you know he’s awake. “It’s creepy.”

“No it’s not.” You argue with a small pout on your face. “You watch me sleep all the time when you wake up early to work out.”

“How would you know if you’re sleeping?” He asks, his arm pulling you even closer to his body.

You laugh, lifting a finger to trace his facial features as you mumble. “You not denying it gives me all the approval I need.” You’re almost done with his lips when he nips at the skin and then presses a soft kiss as an apology, making you giggle as you watch him sleepily.

“Morning, liebe.” Mick croaks out, his eyes opening and slowly focusing on you as they get use to the light.

You smile at him going through the same thing you did just minutes ago, pressing a small kiss to his lower lip and leaning your forehead against his. “Morning, Mickey.”

He smiles back at you at your use of the nickname, his groan making you smile even wider and consequently scrunching up your face. “There’s my smile.” He murmurs, lifting your chin with his fingers and pressing his lips to yours. Unlike your earlier kiss, he deepens it by sliding his tongue into your mouth, and smiles into the kiss as you let out a small moan voicing your approval. When he does eventually pull back, there is an amused smile on his face as you chase his lips for more. “More? Didn’t I do a good job last night?”

You laugh mischievously as you shake your head ‘no’, which causes his eyes to darken in return as he slides his fingers down to your neck to wrap his hand around it gently. “Don’t blame yourself, I know you’ve missed me so you were excited last night.”

“I did miss you,” He affirms, eyes still locked to yours as his gaze carries a sense of seriousness. “But I’m not doing a good enough job if you’re asking for more, am I?” He tightens his hand, although not by much that it cuts of your circulation, but enough to erase your playful expression. “Can’t have my girl dissatisfied.”

“Mick,” You moan, his name coming from your mouth encouraging him to move down on your body towards where you need the most. But although you need him, you are reminded by grave reality where the two of you need to come clean to your father. “My mother knows.” The words come out from your mouth slurred together, as if you are in a hurry to get them out before they explode within you.

Mick’s eyes widen so much that you worry they are going to pop out from their sockets. He quickly takes his hand off from around your neck and scrambles to get off of you, quickly letting himself fall on the bed and turn to you in a sitting position while clutching his grey sheets around the lower half of his body. “You told your– Well, that’s good isn’t it? How did she react?”

“She was happy, Mick. So, so happy.” You tell him, deciding not to make him suffer after seeing the slight insecurity in his eyes. “You know they both adore you.” You take a deep breath, worry seeping into your expression. “I just don’t want my dad to think we’ve kept this from him on purpose.”

“He won’t, hase.” He shakes his head and he lies down on the bed, his body turned towards you. “You know how much he loves you; he won’t think we deliberately hid this from him.”

“I hope so.” You sigh, cuddling into his body as you keep on mumbling. “I’ve never kept a secret from him my entire life, Mick. I can’t keep hiding us.”

There is a determined look on his face as he speaks. “You won’t have to; we’ll tell him when I drive you back.”

“But… I drove here in my own car?” You point out.

“Then I’ll have to drive you back in your own car, darling.”

Your hands are shaky when the two of you stand in front of the front door to your parents’ house. It’s weird to think how nervous you are to enter the house, given the fact that it is the house you spend most of your life in, and that Mick has been over a thousand times as your guest and as your parents’. You take a deep breath as you enter the house and call out to your parent’s, “I’m home!”

There’s a silence before an answer comes, “We’re in the kitchen!”

You and Mick share look as the two of you walk towards the kitchen, his hand is on the small of your back the entire time as a support. You stick your head through the kitchen door to see your parents sitting on the island, looking through some architectural design magazine. Sebastian smiles at you as he sees you enter the kitchen. “Hello, honey, why are you back so early? I thought you were going to camp all weekend.”

There is a guilty expression on your face as you link your hands behind your back, just as you used to do when you got in trouble as a kid. “I didn’t go camping this weekend, dad.”

“You didn’t?” He asks, confused. He turns back at you after he shares a look with your mom. “Where were you, then?”

You stay silent as you take a couple steps back to pull a guilty-looking Mick into the kitchen. “I was with Mick.” You mumble.

The change of expressions on your dad’s face is interesting – first it turns confused, then enlightened, and worried, and then confused again. You hear him ask, “The guy you’re dating is Mick?”

“You knew I was dating someone?” You turn to your mom with a sense of betrayal. “Mama!”

“I didn’t tell him anything!” She defends herself, at the same time your dad exclaims; “You knew she was dating him?”

He then turns you with a sad look in his eyes. “You told your mother but not me?”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen–” You try to explain, but then turn to your boyfriend with an overwhelmed groan. “Help me!”

“We forgot!” Mick exclaims, there is an apprehensive look on his face. “It just happened so fast and we forgot to tell you, but it’s not that we wanted to keep it from you.”

“When– When did this happen?” Sebastian asks as he shakes his head slowly, trying to comprehend the situation.

“Last year in Abu Dhabi, after you told me I should stay for a bit.” You explain, somehow scooting yourself closer to Mick without being aware of doing do.

“I did this?” Your dad asks. Then, he turns to your mom and grabs his cheeks with his hand. “Oh no, honey, as if that was my entire plan the whole time.”

“Wait a minute– what?” You ask him, jaw slacked.

“You planned all of this?” Mick asks your father with the same amount of shock.

“Oh come on,” Your dad laughs. “The two of you already fancied each other long before I got involved – and it turned out to be fine!”

“Papa!” You exclaim, eyes widening. “This is real life; you can’t strategize with people’s relationships!”

“I’m so confused right now.” Mick mumbles to you, which earns him a glare.

“What would have happened if we didn’t end up together?” You ask Sebastian, which melts his hear to hear paired with the concerned look on your face.

“Then you would’ve stayed good friends.” He replies with a shrug. “Honey, I could see that you both clearly had feelings each other and that’s why I decided to play the matchmaker, you have nothing to worry about.”

“He’s right, hase.” Mick sighs, as he wraps his arm around your shoulders. “I mean, his plan worked.”

“I know it worked.” You grumble. “Do you know how guilty I felt because I didn’t tell you when it happened in the first place?”

“Good,” Your dad nods. “It shows that I’ve raised a good kid.”

You sigh as you watch your parents laugh over the incident, Mick joining them a few moments later which prompts you to do the same. Your mom gets up from her place as she turns towards the two of you. “Do you guys wanna stay for dinner? We were about to make burgers.”

“Oh yeah, dad owes us plenty of those after the emotional damage he put us through.” You announce, kissing Mick on the cheek and joining your mom to help her prepare dinner.

“I like retirement,” Your dad mumbles to himself.

“I give you one season, old man.” You smirk. “You won’t be able to stay behind when you’ve been behind a wheel since you were eight years old.”

“She’s got you there, Seb.” Mick laughs as he takes a place on the island.

“Oh no, is Mick taking your side going to be an ongoing thing?” Sebastian asks with a grimace.

“What can I say?” Mick shrugs. “I am a good boyfriend.”

“The best.” You agree, while you lock eyes across the room. Your parents share a knowing look between the two of them. Needless to say, it turns out that your dad is also very happy to ‘learn’ that you’re dating Mick.

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #mick schumacher #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #mick schumacher smut #mick schumacher fluff

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justmystyles · 1 year

Note

hi! your angst is so so good! could you please write something angsty around the Selena Gomez song “Lose You to Love Me” kind of about a girl learning to love herself after a toxic love with Harry and then them reuniting after growing up years later, please?

Lose You to Love Me

read my other work here

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

word count: 4.2k

summary: a run-in with your childhood sweetheart brings up old memories, and lingering feelings.

a/n: my friend, you have no idea what you've done sending this ask in. technically you do, because I posted about it after i received it. but this song popped into my head a little over a week ago, and has been running up there on repeat. it's been making me think about my life and relationships, and being all reflective or whatever. i hate it. 😂

I have been thinking about this story pretty much non-stop since you sent the ask, and was so exited to finally get it written. i hope it's what you were looking for, and that you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it.

also, a note about the story, the italicized parts are flashbacks.

i know we’re on all on edge after last night, so why not throw some angst in there to make it worse!

tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @lexiecamposv @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

As you moved through the streets of London, you were so focused on making it to your destination that you weren’t paying attention to the faces passing you by.

But he was, and he recognized yours immediately.

“Y/N?”

You froze in place, causing the person walking behind you to crash into you. You apologized and stepped off to the side, looking in the direction of the voice. “Harry,” you breathed out.

Before you could fully process what was happening, Harry had rushed up to you, pulling you into his arms. You closed your eyes, even after all this time he still gave the best hugs. Your mind flashed with memories of all the times you found yourself in his arms. Good and bad.

“I can’t believe it’s you!” He spoke against your neck before pulling back, taking your hands in his as he looked you up and down. “You look amazing. All grown up.”

“Yeah, you too.” You took him in, he had definitely filled out since the last time you saw him. Of course you knew that, no matter how hard you tried to get away from him, you never could get that clean break you so desired. That’s what happens when your ex is one of the biggest stars in the world.

“Gosh, it’s been ages.” He muses.

You purse your lips and nod. “Eleven years.” You feel a knot in your stomach, thinking back to the last time you two spoke.

“Harry, it’s just not fair to me.” You move the speaker away from your mouth, hoping he doesn’t hear your breath hitch.

“And you think you’re being fair to me? This is my dream, Y/N, and I can’t even enjoy it because I’ve got you making me feel bad, or like I’m doing something wrong every time I talk to you!”

“Yeah, well you were my dream.” Your voice is quiet, defeated. “But I guess it’s time for me to wake up.”

Harry is silent on the other end of the phone for a moment. “What,” he lets out a deep breath. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You wipe your eyes, sniffling softly. “It means I can’t do this anymore. You’re living your life, you’re finding your way in the world. I need to go off and do the same. Alone.”

Harry gives you a sad smile. “I tried to reach out a few times, I didn’t like how we left things.”

“I know, me either.” You agreed. “But I needed to just sever the tie. It would have been too hard otherwise.”

“I’m sorry,” you look at him curiously. “For how I handled things, for how it ended…”

You held your hand up to stop him. “We were just kids, you were eighteen and an international pop star, you handled things as best you could.”

He smiled gratefully at you. “Do you, uh… do you have some time? Maybe we could grab a coffee and catch up?”

Your mind is begging you to say no, but your mouth doesn’t listen, agreeing immediately. “But I’ll pass on the coffee.’

“Still?” He smirks, remembering how much you hated coffee. “Some things never change.”

****

The two of you order drinks, and get settled at a quiet corner table in a small coffee shop, the conversation starts off simple enough, you catch each other up on your families, you tell him about your career, and how you had relocated to London three years ago for a big promotion. He shares a couple of stories of some of his more memorable moments over the years.

Even after a decade apart, you still managed to fall into conversation with ease. From the moment you had met when you were kids, there was this instant comfort between the two of you. It was no surprise to anyone when you started dating at fifteen. You were inseparable, going everywhere together. You were there at his XFactor audition, you supported him every step of the way. It was when things really started taking off for him that everything changed.

“Hi angel,” Harry’s voice was low and raspy, that’s when you realized you forgot to take the time change into consideration before you called.

“Oh my gosh H, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up, I–”

You’re cut off by his laughter. “It’s alright, I like when you wake me up. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Mum is taking me dress shopping for formal today, I just wanted to see if you had any ideas what you’d be wearing. We could coordinate!” There was a long silence as you waited for him to respond. “Harry?” You asked. Maybe he had fallen back to sleep.

“Yeah, I’m here. Sorry.” You could hear him shifting on the other end of the phone. “I have some bad news actually.” He sighed before continuing. “They booked us a bunch of shows in the US, I’m not going to be able to come home for the dance.”

“Oh,” you did your best to mask the disappointment. It was just a dance, Harry was doing amazing things, and you needed to be supportive of that.

“Angel, I’m so sorry, I really tried…”

“No, don’t worry. It’s fine, really.” You assured him while also trying to assure yourself.

You heard a knocking on the other side of the phone, and muffled voices. “Fuck, I’ve gotta go Y/N. I’m so sorry, I love you. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know H. I love you too.”

“Okay, we’ll talk soon. I promise.” The call disconnects before you can respond.

That was the beginning of the end for your young love. You had put on a happy face for everyone, especially Harry, but your family and friends were able to see right through it. He probably would have too had he actually been there.

You ended up going to your formal with your friends, but as they danced and laughed, you sat on the sidelines, staring at your phone waiting for a call or a text from Harry. And that’s what your life became from there on.

When Harry would come home, things would be better, but still not what it was. Because he’d be gone for such long stretches, his time was spread so thin when he was home. He would want to spend time with everyone, which didn’t leave enough time for the two of you. You would tag along as much as you could, but your one on one time was lacking. It got to a point where you couldn’t even go out on dates, constantly being bombarded by people asking for pictures or autographs.

That’s when you decided to spend your time behind closed doors. Harry said it was so he could focus on you, but part of you wondered if it was so that he could keep you secret. You knew that there were girls all over the world that wanted to be with him, his team knew that was part of the marketability of him, of the whole group. The second the two of you stopped hanging out publicly, the insecurities started creeping in. From then on, every time you saw a picture of him with another girl, you wondered who she was, why it was okay for him to be seen with her and not you.

As the two of you continued to talk, you glanced down at your watch. “Oh shit,” you interrupt him. “I’m so sorry Harry, I actually have to go. I have a meeting I need to get to.” You stand from your seat and collect your things. Harry stands with you.

“Yeah, of course.” You could have sworn there was a hint of disappointment in his tone. “Hey, you should come to the show tonight. If you’re free I mean.”

You look up at him with wide eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Of course, it’s Wembley. How many times did we talk about this?”

“A lot,” you smile wistfully, remembering those conversations. Whenever he was feeling discouraged about his journey, you would always be right there to pick him up, assuring him it was going to work out. That he’d be onstage at the famed stadium, and you’d be right there cheering him on.

“It would mean a lot to me to have you there. Full circle and all that.” He said with a smile. “Besides, the whole family is going to be there. I’m sure mum and Gem would love to see you.”

It would be nice to see his family again. You had been all but officially adopted into the clan, spending holidays, dinners, birthdays with them. You were at Harry’s house just as much as you were at your own, possibly more. Sure, you had mourned the loss of your relationship with Harry, but it also broke you that you lost that second family.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll be there.” You agree.

“Amazing.” He pulled you in for a tight hug. “I’ll see you tonight. Just check in at the box office when you get there, I’ll take care of everything.”

****

You made it to your meeting on time, but you were anything but present. Your mind kept going back to Harry, how great he looked, how happy he was to see you. And then the memories started flooding back.

“Y/N?” Your mother’s voice and gentle knock on the door call your attention away from your phone.

“Yeah?”

She sticks her head into your room. “We’re leaving in five minutes, are you ready?”

“Ready?” You suddenly remember that your parents were supposed to be taking you and your sister out to dinner. “Oh, I uh… no. I think I’m going to pass if that’s okay?”

“But honey, we’re going to your favorite restaurant.” You could see the concern spread across her face.

“I know, but Harry is supposed to call and check in. We haven’t had a proper phone date in weeks. I want to make sure I don’t miss him.”

“Y/N…” your mother says in a warning tone. After Harry missed out on formal, you had completely changed. You’d go to school, and then immediately come home waiting to hear from him. You would drop everything the second his name popped up on your phone screen.

“Mum, next time. I promise.”

Your mother lets out a sigh and nods, leaving you alone.

About an hour later, your phone pinged with a text from Harry.

Sorry love, can’t call tonight. Talk to you soon, promise. XO

****

After your meeting, you slipped out of the office. You knew you weren’t going to get anything done today. Besides, you needed to find something to wear tonight. You called Heather, your oldest and closest friends, asking her to meet you at one of your favorite shops.

You told her about your run-in with Harry, and his invitation to go to his show.

“You said no, right?”

“Yeah, I said no. That’s why we’re here, you’re helping me pick an outfit for a concert I’m not going to.” you rolled your eyes.

“Y/N, I say this as your friend, this is a terrible idea and you definitely shouldn’t go.” She says completely seriously. “Do you even remember what life was like for you back then?”

“Come on!” Heather grabbed your arm, trying to pull you out of the booth. “Come dance with us!”

You pull out of her grip, checking your phone for a notification. “I can’t H-”

“Harry’s going to call,” she finishes your sentence. “Y/N, you’re both my friends, but you’re my best friend, so I’m going to be real with you. Harry’s a wakner.”

“Hey,” you reply defensively. “He is not, he’s just really busy. He’s kind of a big deal, you know?”

“I do know. And I also know that while you’re sitting here staring at your phone, you’re missing out on life. But he’s out there living it. You deserve better than that.”

“Right, and in a couple of months I’ll be living that life with him.”

Heather’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not going to university.” You state plainly, her eyes go wide in shock. “Harry is going to get me a job on his team. It won’t be glamorous, and it probably won’t pay much, but we’ll be together and everything will be good again.”

“Have you told your parents about this plan?”

“I have, they aren’t happy about it, but I’m eighteen, so there isn’t really anything they can do about it.”

“And you really think this is the best idea?” She asks you.

“Yes,” you say, a little louder than intended but you needed to get your point across. “Harry and I are supposed to be together, and if this is how it needs to happen, this is how it’s going to happen.” You grab your purse and stand from your seat. “I’m going home, it’s too loud here for me to hear him anyway.”

After that, you stopped going out when your friends invited you. They didn’t understand your relationship, and they were always on your case about it. It was easier to just stay home and wait for Harry. Eventually, the invitations stopped coming. You were fine with that. It made it easier for you to focus on Harry, and be there when he had time for you.

As far as the job, that never happened. About a week after you graduated, you received a call from Harry. He told you that he fought for you, all the guys did, but his team said they weren’t able to make a spot for you.

You were devastated, but you did your best to hide it from him. That didn’t last very long, however, as that was the point where the cracks in your facade of ‘supportive girlfriend’ started coming through. You started seeing what everyone had been telling you, that Harry was out there conquering the world while you were putting your life on hold, spending your life by the phone waiting for a quick text or five minute phone call.

****

When you arrived at Wembley, you gave your name at the window and were immediately ushered to a backstage VIP area. You walked in and smiled to yourself at the turnout. You recognized almost everyone in the room. You stayed by the door, not wanting to interrupt when Gemma’s eyes traveled in your direction, She did a double take before smiling wide and running to you.

“Y/N, I can’t believe it!” She pulled you into a tight hug, which you quickly returned. “Harry told us he ran into you, and invited you to the show. But I wasn’t sure you’d actually come!”

You giggled at her excitement. “Of course I’m here, I told him I’d come.”

“I know, but you’re so nice, I figured you’d say that to his face and then just disappear.” You both laughed, before she took you by the hand, leading you into the group. “Come on, we have so much to catch up on!”

You went around the room, greeting those you had known a decade ago, and meeting the new members of Harry’s entourage. Everyone was so happy to see you, you were being pulled in a million different directions trying to catch up with everyone. They had told you that Harry was with them earlier, but had to leave to get ready. You were grateful for that. It would have been too much to be there with him, and his family.

**** When it was time to go out to the front of house, Gemma locked her arm in yours and you walked together. She stayed by your side the whole night. The two of you were always close, she had always treated you like you were sisters. Often joking that someday Harry would make it official. She made you promise not to leave without giving her your number, she said she wasn’t about to let another ten years go by without seeing you again.

The show was incredible. Harry was incredible. As you watched him up there, you felt your chest swell with pride. Despite what had transpired between the two of you, you couldn’t help but get emotional watching him live the dream that the two of you had spent so much time talking about. He had done it, but on a level that neither of you could have even imagined.

As you listened on, your mind wandered, thinking about the girls those songs were about. The girls that had come after you. You felt tears begin to pool in your eyes as you remembered the first one.

“Come on guys, put it away. Y/N is going to be here any minute.” You heard Heather plead. “This is her first time out since the breakup, she doesn’t need to see it.”

After the phone call where you ended your relationship, you were inconsolable. You cried nonstop, mourning your relationship, the future you were supposed to have, and all the time you wasted waiting for him. Your friends would come over often, but they would mostly just hold you and offer words of encouragement to you as you cried. Nobody was able to get through to you, they weren’t even sure how.

About two months after the breakup, you got this surge of determination. Harry had taken away enough of your life, you weren’t going to let him do it anymore. You texted Heather, and she agreed to gather all your friends for dinner.

You walked in and saw her trying to pull the phone out of her boyfriend’s hands. “What don’t I need to see?” You ask, everyone’s attention snapping to you.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” Heather assured you.

You nodded, leaning in to hug your friend, quickly diverting and grabbing the phone out of her hand. You looked down at the screen and saw a paparazzi shot of Harry walking hand in hand with Taylor Swift, it was an article about the budding relationship between the two singers.

“Oh,” you said, dropping the phone on the table. “I uh… I just remembered I’ve got to…” your brain was too cloudy to come up with an excuse, not that they would believe it anyway. You turned and rushed out of the restaurant. Heather hot on your heels.

“Y/N, wait!” She followed you as you ducked into a nearby alleyway, getting to you just in time to watch your back slide down the wall.

You wrapped your arms around your knees and began sobbing uncontrollably. Heather sat down next to you, wrapping her arm around your shoulder and pulling you into her.

“I… he… I…” You couldn’t form words, too upset to do anything but cry.

“I know babe, I know.” Heather said in a soft tone, rubbing your back comfortably. “I told you he was a wanker.”

You chuckled lightly, your breathing starting to return to normal. You looked up at your friend with tear stained cheeks, your breath hitching as you regained composure. “We just broke up. I’ve been locked in my room crying, and he’s been with her.”

“He’s a piece of shit. He doesn’t deserve you. You’re so much better than all of this.” She held your face in her hands and gave you a determined look. “You’re a fucking catch Y/N, he’s an idiot for not seeing that.” You nod, pretending you agree with her. “Let’s get you home. We’ll get a bunch of junk food and watch sad movies. Get all the tears out.”

“Hey Y/N, you alright?” Gemma pulls you from your thoughts.

You suddenly realize the house lights are up, and people are filing out of the stadium. “Oh yeah, sorry. It’s just crazy to think that he went from the weird boy with the dumb jokes to that,” you gesture toward the stage.

“Oh, he’s still the weird boy, he’s just telling his dumb jokes to a whole lot more people.” She joked, slinging her arm around your shoulder. “C’mon, let’s go backstage.”

“Oh, no no no, you go. I should…”

“Not a chance,” she interrupted you. “You’ve gotta come back and see him.” You narrow your eyes at her, wondering why it was so important that you see him, but she just smiles innocently and leads you back to the VIP room.

****

You and Gemma get comfortable on a couch in the back corner of the room, so lost in conversation that you don’t even notice when all eyes in the room land on the door, cheering Harry as he enters. He walks through, offering hugs and handshakes, thanking people for coming and graciously receiving compliments on his performance.

Once he’s made his way to the back, he stops, silently observing you and his sister gossiping and giggling just like you always had.

“You’d better not be talking about me, or I’m telling mum.” His voice pulls you from your conversation, and you both turn to look at him.

Gemma grins and jumps from her seat. “You were outstanding.” She pulled him into a hug, saying something to him in a hushed tone.

He smiled gratefully at her as she sat back down, Harry turned to you with a curious expression. “Well? What did you think?”

“H,” his nickname fell so easily from your lips, as if you had never been apart. You stood up, looking at him with so much awe that he was taken aback. “You did it. I’m so,” you sigh with a shrug. “It was incredible.”

He smiled, dimples on full display. “Thank you, angel. You have no idea what that means to me.” He steps in front of you, pulling you into a firm embrace. You were so lost in the moment that it didn’t even register that he had called you by his pet name for you.

Gemma stood behind you, making sure to get Harry’s attention, she winked at him with a smirk before matriculating back into the crowd, allowing you two a moment.

When you finally separated, Harry looked down at you, his gaze so intense that you felt your cheeks heating up. “I should probably go,” you finally speak up.

“No, wait.” He says in a panicked tone. “Can I talk to you alone for a minute?”

You furrow your brow, not expecting that. He’s in a room full of the most important people in his life, and he wants to be alone with you? “Yeah, sure.”

He leads you out of the VIP area and down the hall to his dressing room. He opens the door, signaling for you to enter. He follows behind you, closing the door once you both cross the threshold.

You both stand there awkwardly for a few moments before Harry finally breaks the silence. “I’m really glad you came tonight.”

“Me too, thank you for inviting me.” You smile, trying to hide your nerves.

“I, uh…” he takes a breath, running his hand through his hair. “I miss you.”

You look up at him in confusion. “Harry, it’s been eleven years.”

“And I’ve missed you the entire time.” He took a couple of cautious steps towards you. “I was so stupid back then, so stupid. I know I wasn’t fair to you.”

“I told you, it’s fine, you were a kid. You did the best you could.” You assured him.

“I think running into you today was fate.” He ignores your words and keeps going. “We’ve both grown up, I’ve grown up. I see what’s important in life now.”

“Harry…”

“There were so many times I wanted to call you. So many things that happened that I wanted to celebrate with you, but I couldn’t. Every sold out show, every award, all of it, you were the first person I wanted to tell.”

You were speechless. You were listening to his words, watching the vulnerability in his face, all of it completely overwhelming you. Out of everything that could have come from your run in with Harry, this was probably the last thing you would have expected.

“I don’t… what?” Was all you managed to choke out.

“Listen, I’m not saying we jump right back in and pick up where we left off,” your eyes went wide at his words. “I broke your trust, that’s something I need to earn back. But I’d like to try, if you’d let me.”

“Try…”

He reached out, taking your hand and sighing in relief when you didn’t pull away. “I want to show you that I can be what you need, what you deserve.”

“What are you asking?” You ask, searching his face as if it held the answers.

“I just want to be in your life again, be your friend. I want to get to know you now, I want you to get to know me now, and see where things go from there.”

You stood in silence, looking into Harry’s eyes, butterflies filling your stomach at the way he’s looking at you. You nod your head slowly. “Okay,” you respond, barely above a whisper.

“Yeah?” He asks hopefully, you nod with a smile and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. “Thank you thank you thank you. I promise I’m not going to mess this up.” You chuckle against his chest. “What’s so funny?”

“Heather is going to kill me.”

A bark of laughter escapes him. “I’ll protect you,” he places a kiss on the top of your head. “I’m not going to lose you again.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles headcanon #harry styles angst #harry's house #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry edward styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic

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rip-quizilla · 10 months

Text

Impossible to Hate You ~ Part 5

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: Everything is falling- leaves from the trees, rain from the sky, you for Eddie, and Eddie for you.

Word Count: 10.1 K

A/N: Big thanks to @the-unforgivenn (happy birthday❤️) for all of the help you gave me on this chapter, and honestly this whole fic in general. You've been an invaluable part of the writing process of this story, and the fact that you care so much about Eddie & Ace just makes me feel so loved... you don't even know. Ily wifey✨

Thank you @vintagehellfire for your priceless tattoo knowledge- I hope I did you proud!!

Also thanks to @blueywrites for helping me decide on what Eddie would tattoo on reader back in our Tumblr DMs in June😂 y'all that's how long I've had this scene in my brain. This part of the story has been a long time coming.

Divider was created by the lovely and talented @hellfire--cult❤️

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Part 5

Fall, 1983

“Rick, are you serious, man?”

“Dead serious, I’ll sell it to you for twenty.”

You caught the tail end of their conversation as you approached the red plastic picnic table in Forest Hills trailer park. Today was the first day of fall, and while it may not have felt like biting cold and crunchy leaves yet, it did feel like flannels tied around waists and long-dead grass that broke beneath the soles of your shoes. You hopped up onto the surface of the table, swinging your feet around to rest beside Eddie where he sat on the bench.

“Sell what?” you asked, producing three cans of Coke from your bag that you’d brought from home and handing one to each of the boys. Rick had grown accustomed to your presence since the spring, so he actually cracked a smile when he answered your question and nodded in thanks as he accepted the can.

“Munson wants to buy my old tattoo gun.”

Your jaw dropped. “Wait, seriously?” you asked Eddie.

He didn’t take his eyes off Rick. “And I’m wondering what the catch is if you’re selling it to me for so cheap.”

You cracked open your can of soda with a hiss, joining Eddie in his Rick stare-down. “Hmm,” you mused, “I bet he forgot to clean it and it’s staph-infested.”

“Nope,” Rick popped the ‘p’ after taking a swig from his shiny red can. “Never been used, so I can guarantee it’s staph-free. Always meant to use it, but after that brush with the cops I had last month, I don’t want to risk having it.”

You narrowed your eyes at Eddie, trying to discern whether or not he’d thought about the fact that if he bought it, then he would be in possession of paraphernalia for illegal Indiana activities.

Then again, you knew he smoked weed and that was most definitely against the law as well, and he hadn’t been caught yet. You trusted him not to be stupid enough to get arrested.

You turned your line of questioning on Eddie. “Why on earth do you need a tattoo gun anyway?”

“Well you see, Ace-” Eddie lifted one of your feet up from the bench, straightening your leg and presenting your right shoe- your white converse, half covered in mythical creatures and random doodles that Eddie had slowly been adding to with his fine-tipped Sharpie ever since you’d bought them in early August. “-it seems that I need a canvas for my art, and it won’t be long before I run out of shoe.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “So now people are the canvas?”

Eddie held up his arms, bare skin nearly translucent in the afternoon sun. His nearly-too-small Iron Maiden tee showcased just how much bare skin he had to spare along the contours of his limbs. “If by people you mean me, then yeah.”

“You’re going to tattoo yourself?”

“Yep!”

“Without practicing on someone else first?”

Eddie smirked, “You volunteering?”

You rolled your eyes, but for some odd reason the idea stuck. You decided to play along.

“Let’s say I am, what would the tattoo be?”

Eddie hadn’t anticipated this answer. He was so surprised, in fact, that he choked on the soda that he’d just sipped into his mouth before your question. In a cacophony of coughs and wheezes, Eddie managed to regain his composure as you smiled wryly, feeling as though you’d bested him somehow in some small way. To fluster him with something as small as this, something he hadn’t expected.

“You’re serious? You want a tattoo?” Eddie responded skeptically, before turning away from you to fiddle with his soda can still held in his hands.

You shrugged, as if he were asking if you wanted a pizza, not a permanent brand inked on your skin. “Why not? I think I’d look pretty badass with a tattoo.”

You weren’t sure what was making you feel so bold today, but you had a feeling it might be related to the thought of Eddie covered in ink that wound up and down his skin that was making you ache to touch it when it was still naked and peach-pale. You scooched a couple inches down the tabletop to the left, placing your seat directly behind Eddie’s neck.

Then, in a stroke of something between bravery, stupidity, and need, you carefully slung your legs over Eddie’s shoulders so that they sat in the bends of your knees.

It was a simple gesture- familiar, even. You made a point to lean back a little, bracing your hands behind you on the tabletop so that the apex of your thighs stayed a good distance from the back of Eddie’s neck. You felt Eddie’s shoulders stiffen, each muscle under your jeans tensing for a moment before relaxing into the closeness.

Then Eddie brought his hands to your ankles, his fingertips brushing the spare skin between your high tops and the cuffs of your jeans. The pads of his thumbs barely caressed the skin but they felt like a kiss- a thing coveted and then forbidden, then coveted even more.

His touch drifted over your legs, warm hands coming to rest over your shins and squeeze, heating the denim that separated his skin from yours. You were holding your breath. You’d been so confident a second ago yet here he was, knocking the very air from your lungs.

You waited anxiously for him to say something; if he didn’t you were sure you were going to do something stupid. Something that would involve more of his skin on your skin.

“Would you want this tattoo of yours to show?” Eddie asked at last, breaking the silence between the two of you- well, the three of you. Rick was still there, taking in the sight before him with a smirk on his face.

“Not easily, my parents would kill me.” you said, ensuring that your tone of voice was nonchalant, casual. “But I don’t see the harm in something small that I could hide.”

Eddie tilted his head back and up, earthen eyes flicking up to yours. “What happened to ‘looking badass’?”

You pursed your lips as you leaned forward, bringing your faces to hover parallel over each other. “You’re saying that taking my pants off to reveal a surprise tatty isn’t badass?”

You watched as Eddie’s eyes flashed darker for a split second- nearly imperceptibly so- before his lips stretched sinfully into a mischievous grin. “Oh, under the pants then, huh?”

His hands traced higher, ghosting on your knees and burning his fingerprints through your jeans.

“Easy to hide,” you said, struggling to keep your voice even. “It’s a practical placement.”

Eddie’s thumbs stroked absentminded circles into the flesh of your lower thighs, tight denim puckering with the motion. “Practical placement…” he murmured, low enough that it sounded like he hadn’t even meant to say it out loud.

“You could put it on your hip.”

Both of your heads whipped around to focus on Rick, who was grinning at both of you like he’d just discovered a fun new game to play. He shrugged, hopping up to sit beside you on the tabletop. “You want it to be hidden all of the time, right?” he leaned to shove you congenially with his shoulder. “When’s a good girl like you gonna be showing off some hip? I bet the only one who’ll see that will already be married to you when he lays eyes on-”

“Hey!” you interjected. “You act like I’m some prude, I’m not a nun.” Rolling your eyes, you looked back down at Eddie hoping to meet his gaze and laugh together over how ridiculous Rick was being. However, you looked down only to find Eddie’s chocolate browns trained on Rick with wide-eyed warning. A silent message was clearly being exchanged, but it wasn’t for you.

Rick was smiling smugly down at Eddie, unbeknownst to you, and Eddie was getting the message loud and clear:

It’s time to raise the stakes, kid.

“Perfect!” Rick chirped, smug eyes still trained on Eddie’s. “So you wouldn’t mind letting Eddie use your hip as his, uh… canvas, then?”

If Eddie’s looks could kill, Rick would be a dead man.

“Yeah.” you choked out, refusing to give yourself time to chicken out of what you’d gotten yourself into. “Yeah, why not?”

Rainy days in autumn just felt right.

Sure, you were in Latin class. Sure, you were supposed to be working on a packet the substitute teacher had just passed out. However, it was raining outside. The sub was easygoing enough that she hadn’t made a move to stop Eddie from doodling on your shoe that was perched comfortably on the crook of his hip.

You sat behind him in every class you had together- there were four of them this year- and Eddie had gotten into the habit of reaching back to tap you on the leg whenever he knew he was losing focus. Every time he tapped, you would carefully stretch your leg forward until his hand caught on your ankle, lifting it up until it rested on his lap. His sharpie would go to work on whatever blank spots he could still find on your white converse, and the mindless activity of his drawing would keep his mind awake enough to listen as teachers droned on and on.

The change in Eddie wasn’t lost on his teachers- they had all noticed the impact that your company seemed to have on him, and it was the only reason why they hadn’t had any issues with your constant companionship. When you were around, Eddie actually paid attention in his classes and turned in work- that was good enough for them.

The silence of the classroom and the soundtrack of rainfall beating against the roof and windows had created the perfect work zone for you, and your focus on your classwork was only interrupted when you noticed a folded piece of torn notebook paper on the edge of your desk.

Smirking as you felt Eddie continue doodling on your shoe, you unfolded the paper and read the slanted scrawl that you’d come to recognize instantly as Eddie’s handwriting.

Were you serious about the tattoo thing? It’s OK if you’re not.

Your cheeks heated, contemplating whether you were still serious about it or not. The only fears you had about it were completely logical- Eddie had literally no clue what he was doing. Yours would only be his second tattoo after his own. Worst case scenario, the tattoo would get infected and you go to the hospital. Eddie gets arrested for tattooing without a medical license. Best case scenario… you get to sit there while he grips your naked thigh for as long as it takes to leave a permanent reminder of him on your hip.

You blinked a couple of times, letting that mental image wash over you, before confidently penning your answer beneath his message.

I’m serious.

Folding the scrap of paper and handing it back to him, you felt his Sharpie leave your shoe as he took the note and read it. You watched him register the two words, glance back at you through the loose strands of hair that hung over his shoulder, then smile softly into a shake of his head. A second later, he was handing the note back to you.

If you say so, Ace. What am I tattooing, and where?

You had to think about it for a moment before passing back your answer

Hip is fine. What are you gonna do? We could match.

Eddie’s reply came faster than you’d ever seen him write any of his notes in class, that’s for damn sure.

You want matching tattoos?? Are you sure?

Your heart began to race. Was that bad? Was he judging you for wanting to match him? Maybe you were being too clingy, trying too hard… you glanced down at his jacket, which was wrapped around you almost every day at this point- it was practically a second skin. His handwriting was all over your shoes. You stared at your fingers, scarlet polish chipping from the tips of your nails, and you remembered that you’d chosen red solely because he’d mentioned it was his favorite color.

Were you coming across as desperate? Were you weirding him out? Maybe you needed to dial it back-

A new piece of paper slid across your desk, Eddie’s eyes glancing your way with nothing but warmth in his gaze before he returned his attention to your shoe on his lap.

I’m fine with it if you are.

Putting bats on my forearm.

You released a breath that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, giving ways for butterflies to take flight inside your chest. You grinned, jotting down your reply beneath his writing.

I’m more than fine with it.

Could you do just one little bat on my hip?

Eddie took a little longer this time with his response, and you understood why once you saw the adorably small silhouette of a bat penned in black on the paper he’d passed back to you.

You leaned forward, letting your chin nearly brush the fabric of his denim jacket as you whispered low enough that the substitute teacher wouldn’t hear.

“It’s perfect.”

A snicker from the other side of the classroom caught your ear. Eddie and you both turned to see a cluster of letter-jacketed assholes staring at the two of you, whispering and laughing with each other.

You knew deep down that you didn’t care what they thought. You knew that you should just keep your head down. Ignore them.

But then you caught the tail end of one of their sentences.

“...fucking freaks.”

Two things happened simultaneously: your eyebrows jumped, and Eddie’s stomach dropped.

The ringing of the bell was all you needed to angrily shove your belongings into your backpack and march over to the other side of the classroom, stopping the jocks in their tracks. Eddie was right behind you, tugging you back by the crook of your elbow as you steadily ignored his pleas to sit down and ignore them, they aren’t worth it.

“You want to repeat what you were saying over there, Alan?” You stared up at the freckled boy, his harsh features sneering down at you from where he stood nearly half a foot taller than you. His height did nothing to deter you, however. Neither did Eddie’s death grip on your arm.

Alan snorted, raising an eyebrow at the sight of the two of you before him. His eyes flicked over you, appraising for about two seconds before directing his attention to Eddie behind you. “You letting your girl pick your fights for you now, Munson?”

Eddie didn’t have a chance to respond; you didn’t give him one. “Don’t look at him.” you stepped forward, bringing you mere inches from the freckled football star. “I asked you a question.”

Alan and his cronies laughed, apparently amused by the show of dominance you were trying to make. You opened your mouth to berate him further, but the sharp tug on your arm from Eddie was strong enough this time to jerk you away from them and toward the door of the classroom.

“Wh- Eddie, quit it!” you tried to shake off his grip but it wasn’t going to budge; Eddie marched you out the door and down the hallway like a man on a mission.

“Yeah, Eddie, quit it!” You both could hear Alan’s patronizing whine from the classroom, his voice thrown into a reedy falsetto that made your blood boil. His voice trailed off, melting into the nasal snickers of his friends.

Eddie didn’t let go of your arm until the two of you reached his locker, at which point he finally looked you in the eye- and his stare embodied an intensity that you hadn’t seen from him ever before. You’d seen him intense, of course… just not like this.

This looked like fear.

“What the fuck was that for?” Eddie bit out, his teeth clenched and eyes wide.

You crossed your arms, suddenly defensive. Had you messed up, somehow? “I… I mean, they were calling us names, I wasn’t going to just sit there.”

“Alan’s an illiterate asshole, you don’t need to explain yourself to him.”

“I know I don’t need to, but…” You chuckled humorlessly, that familiar vengeful feeling from moments ago beginning to bubble back up. “You know what, no. I do need to. I’m not the kind of person who can just sit there while jerks like him run around slandering good people, it’s wrong!”

Eddie huffed, his hands on his hips as he glanced around and shook his head. “Slandering, huh? That’s a big word, Ace. What’s that, the college word of the day?” You raised an eyebrow, watching him closely and curiously.

He was fidgeting nonstop, repeatedly picking up his feet and replacing them on the floor only an inch or so away from where they’d been before. His eyes darted in every direction, as if scanning for potential threats so that he could run from them before they decided to pounce.

“Eddie, why are you so afraid of those guys?”

Big brown eyes widened to saucers, refocusing on you. “This isn’t fear, Ace, it’s just common sense.” Eddie checked over his shoulder to ensure the jocks were gone, then took a step closer. He leaned his shoulder against the locker, lifting his opposite arm to gently place his hand on your upper arm. You shivered, feeling his thumb trace small circles through his own black leather. Maybe that’s why he’s so scared all of a sudden, you pondered, leaning closer to Eddie. He’s given me his armor.

You lowered your voice, sympathetic to Eddie’s plight. “You know I wouldn’t let them hurt you, Eds.” Looking up into his eyes, you expected to see them soften, gratitude coating his gaze. Instead, they widened and crinkled slightly at the edges. Eddie huffed out a gaudy laugh, incredulous at your admission.

“Hurt me?” he shook his head, stunned, and began to rifle through his locker for the books he needed for next class. “Ace, I just don’t want them to hurt you!”

You balked. “Me?” an eyebrow raised, you crossed your arms over your chest, defensive once again. “You really think they’d hit a girl? They’re jerks but I don’t think they’d go that far-”

“Nah, they’ll only sick their girlfriends on you.” Eddie punctuated his sentence with a slam of his locker door. “Purebred harpies with matching scrunchies who’ll make your life a living hell and then pretend that you’re the crazy one.”

It was a struggle to keep up with him at the rate he was walking, strides each a yard wide as he tugged you along by your hand.

Your hand. Eddie Munson was holding your hand.

“You, uh… you speaking from experience?” You stuttered over your words, cheeks heating at the sudden skin-to-skin contact. He had just admitted that he didn’t want to see you get hurt- his blatant protectiveness of you coupled with the way he was decisively dragging you by the hand to your locker right now was nearly too much for you to handle.

“Trust me,” Eddie sighed, swinging you around as he reached your locker and (to your dismay) letting go of your hand. “You get asked out on a dare enough times, you figure out how their coven operates.”

Eddie wasn’t meeting your eyes. You had to actually place your hand on his shoulder to capture his gaze. “Eddie,” you said, making a conscious effort to keep your voice steady and be something stable for him to feel at least a little grounded on. “Deep breath.”

Surprisingly, he did as you said. Eddie closed his eyes, inhaling deep and allowing his lungs to fill long enough that his chest expanded before his exhale blew softly on your cheeks. It smelled like the apple you’d brought for him at lunch.

When you were once again treated to that warm hazelnut gaze, your hand acted without thinking and flew up to gently rest against his jawline. You were crossing some invisible line- you knew that- but the light in the hallway was causing shadows to take up residence in the dusting of whiskers that decorated the sharp incline that led to his chin. Your fingertips brushed his skin reverently, and he seemed frozen. Eddie didn’t dare move; you were like a butterfly that had deigned to land on him of all people, and damn it all if he was going to fuck it up and scare you off.

“I’ve got you, you’ve got me… right?” Your voice was barely loud enough to be heard through the noise of bustling students. “We look out for each other, Eddie, we’re stronger together.”

Eddie remained still under your caress, wishing he could focus on your touch. Wishing he could rip his eyes away from where they were trained behind you- held in terrified contact with a sadistic-looking Alan who stood with his cherry-lipsticked girlfriend across the hallway. Alan’s lips were curled into a sneer, watching as the thing that Eddie wanted most became his worst nightmare.

You were openly touching him, while wearing his clothes, standing in shoes covered with his drawings- and Eddie watched in horror as the harpy pushed up on her tiptoes to whisper something in Alan’s ear before both of them refocused not on Eddie, but on you.

They laughed like fucking heyenas, eyeing their next meal.

It took every ounce of self control Eddie had, but he gently took your hand in his and lowered it from his cheek. He ignored the way your eyes gazed up at him the same way a scorned puppy begged for some kind of affection, any confirmation that they are, indeed, loved.

“It’s the together part I’m worried about, Ace.” Eddie whispered, keeping his voice low.

You were quiet, which Eddie hated because it was his fault.

“Oh, and um-” Eddie raised his shoulders and shivered, rubbing his hands along his upper arms to warm himself with the friction. “-it’s a little chilly today… you mind if I wear the jacket?” His hand drifted down to the flannel that hung loosely tied around your waist, taking a corner of the material and feeling it between the pads of his thumb and forefinger.

“This’ll keep you warm, yeah?”

You stared blankly for a moment, stunned. You had nearly forgotten that the jacket was his to take. You’d assumed he liked that you always wore his jacket, but… perhaps you’d made that up. You were eager for him to want things like that, after all… ‘more than friends’ kinds of things. However, asking for a borrowed item to be returned was completely normal for friends. You chided yourself for reading too much into it and smiled warmly up at him.

“Yeah! Of course!” you sprung into action, setting your backpack down on the floor as you began to shrug off the jacket. “You’re right it’s frigid in here today.”

You handed the jacket to Eddie, who donned it with a thin-lipped smile. Parting ways for your next class, you departed in opposite directions down the hallway.

Upon arriving in your calculus class, you glanced out the window eager to zone out as you watched the rain, only to be greeted by a gray sky drained of its water. The rain’s reprieve left nothing in its wake but a tired sun, soft mist that obscured all surety, and packed Indiana dirt softened to mud too loose for one to find their footing.

The sort of mud that, should you try to walk through it, you’d be destined to slip and fall.

When Eddie thought of Halloween, he thought of blood and sugar.

It was a strange contradiction, the way that Halloween’s association with horror and gore had balanced itself out with candy corn and fun-sized Snickers bars, and yet the juxtaposition of the two brought a smile to his face. The combination of sweet and terrifying embodied the holiday perfectly. On Halloween, there was no need for any kind of steely exterior that might protect him from judgment. No need to hide the way he really feels behind the scary metalhead armor he’d so carefully curated as a defense mechanism.

On Halloween, he wasn’t just allowed to be a freak. He was celebrated for it.

On Halloween, he could just be.

It was the reason why Halloween just so happened to be the day he’d had enough courage to look through your bedroom window exactly four years ago. It’s the day when Hell meets Heaven to make something sweet, and anything can happen.

Anything- including matching tattoos on the floor of his trailer.

Everything was ready- Eddie had laid out sheets of newspaper to cover what he’d deemed the tattoo zone, and broken down a cardboard box to act as a stable surface on the soft carpet of his bedroom floor. Eddie had scrutinized every instruction he’d been able to wrench from Rick for how to work the tattoo machine. Grips, needles, fucking rubber bands that were apparently very necessary… he’d made sure he had it all. He’d even practiced on an orange that he’d swiped from the kitchen counter.

A thick black cable now snaked across his carpeted floor, connecting the machine to a pedal, the pedal to a power supply, and the power supply to the yellowed plastic outlet on his wall. Beside the machine sat a stack of paper towels and all sorts of other shit Rick had advised him to make sure he used. He was lucky that Rick had bought a bottle of black ink- Eddie wouldn’t have known where to seek out medical-grade ink in a state where it was illegal to ink your skin without a license.

Your knock at his door made Eddie jump; he wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. It would be easy to write his nerves off as adrenaline before his first tattoo, but who was he kidding- it was you. You’d gone from someone who made him nervous to someone who made him nervous for different reasons, and all of this was very inconvenient for Eddie.

“Trick or Treat,” You’d chirped when he opened the door, and it was at that moment Eddie realized that this night may very well be the death of him.

You wore your favorite baggy sweater over a tight black tank top, which you’d tucked into some high waisted acid washed jeans. Unsurprisingly, the chucks on which he’d scribbled his claim were fastened securely on your feet. In your hands was a variety pack of halloween candies and a shopping bag from the local drugstore. Everything about you radiated warmth, and Eddie had to fight the urge to change tonight’s itinerary to movies and a blanket fort and spend the whole evening on the couch with you, surrounded by candy wrappers and the light of his television set.

“I brought antibacterial soap,” you said, bringing Eddie back to reality. You rifled through your shopping bag to show him your spoils as you stepped through the threshold and into his trailer. “-large bandages, and a little travel first aid kit just in case. Oh, and I did a little bit of reading at the library and I couldn’t find much on tattoos, but the one commonality between every book and article I could find said to make sure you wash the wound often and disinfect everything-”

“Ace,” Eddie interrupted, taking the bag from you and closing the front door. The corner of his mouth quirked up, keeping an amused chuckle at bay. “You went to the library to read about how to safely care for an illegal tattoo?” Your expression soured, shifting to a half-scowl, half-pout.

“Well one of us has got to do it,” you huffed, grabbing the bag and marching towards Eddie’s room. “And I know you wouldn’t set foot in the library unless you were forced.” You continued to yell at him from his room, “You’ll thank me when your kitchen-scratched tattoo doesn’t get infected, and you get to grow old with all of your limbs intact!”

Eddie stayed glued to his spot as his smirk grew into a goofy grin. You were fucking adorable.

You hadn’t argued when Eddie insisted that he start with his own tattoo- before he got started on permanently marking your skin, he wanted to be sure that he at least had gotten the hang of it first. He immediately started getting to work with his trusty fine-tipped Sharpie, sketching out a scattering of bats on his forearm and glancing every once in a while at his notebook for reference. You’d flipped through that notebook on several occasions when the two of you had sat idle during classes or study sessions. The drawings were always sprawling, sharp and gruesome in a way that wasn’t so much scary as it was fascinating to you.

You laid stomach-down on his mattress, positioned behind where he sat on the floor, his back leaned up against the bed frame and close enough that you could probably reach down and play with his hair if you were bold enough. You didn’t- no matter how tempting it was, you didn’t want to risk anything that might mess up his focus. You settled for watching Eddie’s reflection in the mirror that sat leaned up against the wall in front of him.

When the Sharpie stencil had dried and Eddie picked up the tattoo machine, you couldn’t deny the nervous uptake in your heart rate. You watched him gingerly begin the process of permanently inking his drawing into his skin, and before the needle touched skin, Eddie looked over his shoulder at you and winked, whispering a surprisingly shaky “Point of no return.” Before you could ask if he was having second thoughts, he was already outlining the first bat, his socked foot pressing decisively on the pedal that whirred his machine to life.

Minutes ticked by before you uttered a soft “Does it hurt?” to break the awkward silence. Normally, Eddie had some sort of music playing, Metallica or WASP or something along those lines spinning on his cheap old turntable- but tonight there was nothing but the electric buzz that filled the small bedroom, and it was starting to make you antsy.

Eddie huffed, and it was as much of a laugh as he could afford while holding still. “Well, Ace, it’s a needle sticking in and out of my arm repeatedly, so if I’m being honest it ain’t exactly sunshine and rainbows.” You watched him wince as he moved on from outlining the first bat and started on the second.

“Does it at least make you feel a little badass?” You watched his reflection in the mirror glance up through the curtain of his hair and raise an eyebrow at you.

“That depends,” He said, “do I look badass?”

“A little.” You teased. “You’ll look more badass when the tattoo is finished.”

That earned you a snort from him. “What, fifty percent of a tattoo doesn’t cut it?” His reflection flashed you a genuine smile, that lopsided grin affecting you the way it always does, spiking your body temp and rushing the thump of your heart.

“Nope. Though, if your intention is to tell the world that you have commitment issues-”

“I do not have commitment issues-”

“Then what kind of issues do you have?”

Eddie parted the needle from his skin, taking a moment to glance wryly over his shoulder in your direction.

“You.” It was punctuated by a tongue that peeked out from between his lips. You followed suit, shoulders shaking as you chuckled.

Silence threatened to fall for a moment then, but Eddie put a stop to that. “Keep talking.”

“Huh?”

His voice was quiet, muttered like he was biting the inside of his cheek as he spoke. “Hurts less when we’re talking.”

You smiled, watching as he avoided your eye contact in the mirror, focusing on his arm as a subtle blush began to creep onto his cheeks. Tempting as it was to tease, you opted for a more neutral topic.

“Which is better, sour candy or chocolate?”

You could barely see his eyebrows furrow behind his curtain of curls as he considered your question. “Chocolate.”

“You’re crazy.”

He barked out a laugh. “After all the ridiculous shit I’ve said, that’s what crosses the line for you?”

You shook your head, amping up your reaction for his benefit; he was laughing, and it was music to your ears. You were greedy for more of it.

“Sour candy is a whole experience, chocolate is just sweet! That’s all it has going for it!”

Eddie gawked but kept his eyes trained on his skin. “What do you have against sweets?”

You rolled your eyes, flopping from your stomach to your back and staring up at the water stain on Eddie’s ceiling. “I haven’t got anything against sweets… I just like a little tart to go with it. Oh hang on, that reminds me-”

You stuck your hand into the plastic bag you’d brought with you, producing a variety pack of cheap Halloween candies. “Do you normally get trick-or-treaters? I thought we could pour these into a bowl and set it out on the porch- you know, so we don’t have to keep answering the door.”

Eddie Shook his head. “Nah, not a lot of kids who live here. Those who do always high-tail it to the neighborhoods where the good shit is, like-”

“Loch Nora?” you finished, smirking.

Nodding his approval, Eddie echoed, “Loch Nora.”

“Well in that case,” you yanked open the bag of candy so hard that a few individually wrapped pieces were flung onto the bedspread as well as the floor below. “I guess we’ll have to eat all of this ourselves.”

Eddie paused his tattooing to glance at a fun-sized packet of sour gummy worms that had landed on the carpet beside him. “Gummy worms?” he asked.

You flicked the back of his head while the needle was off his skin. “Uh, yeah, they’re delicious.”

“Did you at least get candy corn?”

You gagged. “Candy corn?!”

The two of you passed the next hour like that, debating about various arbitrary topics and inevitably disagreeing on almost all of them. There were only three things that you both agreed on without any debate whatsoever: Santa Claus was the superior holiday mascot, Joan Jett could easily beat Cyndi Lauper in a fight, and The Empire Strikes Back was way better than A New Hope.

When Eddie was finally finished with his tattoo, you were off the bed in an instant and already reaching for the antibacterial soap.

“You should wash it under some warm water first before anything gross has a chance to get in there-”

“Hey hey hey, whoa hold on!” Eddie was laughing, eyes wide as he smiled at you. Your hand was already encircled around his wrist, tugging his arm (and the person attached to it) toward the bathroom. “Ace, you haven’t even looked at it yet, c’mon you’re bruising the artist’s ego here.”

You sighed but couldn’t hide the rueful grin that danced on your pursed lips. Softening your vice like grip on his wrist, you shifted your hands to cradle his forearm and survey the last hour’s work.

“It looks good, Eddie… really good, actually.” You absently swiped a thumb over the soft skin of his wrist. “If you’d told me it was professionally done, I’d totally believe you.”

“Yeah?” He looked up from where your thumb stroked the base of his forearm, eyes shining.

“Yeah,” you smirked. “Of course, I’d tell you to try and get your money back, but-”

“Oh shove it up your ass, Sweet Tart.” The playful shoulder-check had you letting go of his arm, but both of your faces were painted with ear-to-ear smiles.

Eddie washed his new tattoo in the bathroom sink, admiring the way the bats stretched and shifted with every flex of his forearm. Your mouth hurt, as did the muscles in your cheeks; you couldn’t stop smiling. He was so happy with his work, and you had to admit that he had actually done a really good job with that tattoo machine.

“We’ve got to get you out of Indiana, Munson,” you murmured to the mirror where he continued to scrutinize his work from every angle. “I think you may have just found your calling.”

His eyes were wide and shining with pride as they glanced your way. “You think?”

You nodded, that saccharine smile stubbornly staying put on your lips. To be fair, you didn’t fight it.

“You’re coming with me, then.” Eddie replied, his own smile glowing in the dying light above the bathroom mirror.

There it was- that familiar fire beneath the skin of your cheeks.

“Oh I am, huh?”

“Hell yeah.” Eddie braced his arm on the doorway, leaning over you until your faces were mere inches apart. “We’re stronger together, remember?”

Breathe. Breathe… Why can’t you breathe?

You’d barely managed a nod before Eddie was ducking around you through the doorway, grabbing your hand, and leading you back to his room.

“Your turn, Ace.”

Oh yeah, you were also getting a tattoo today. You’d almost forgotten. Were you nervous? You weren’t sure. Actually, yes, you were very nervous- not so much about the tattoo as you were for where the tattoo would be.

In minutes, you were both sitting on Eddie’s bedroom floor- Eddie readying everything he needed for your new ink, and you sitting eerily still as your soul started to feel like it might leave your body.

“Ace,”

Eyes refocusing, you blinked a few times. “Yeah?”

Eddie’s expression was calm, sympathetic to the inward freak-out he had a feeling you were on the verge of. “We don’t have to do this, you know. I wouldn’t hold it against you.”

You tried to laugh, but it came out sounding a little more strained than you had intended. “Hah…you saying I have commitment issues?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up, but Eddie’s eyebrows stayed knitted together above his big brown eyes. “No,” he murmured. His voice was soft, as if he were speaking to a stray animal and trying not to spook it. “I guess I’m just… trying to give you an out, so you don’t feel pressured or anything.”

You shook your head, “I don’t want an out.”

Eddie blinked, “No?”

“No.”

There was a second of silence between the two of you before you both took in a collective breath, exhaling simultaneously and giggling when you both realized that you were breathing in sync. Perfect harmony; sour and sweet, nervous but willing.

“You, uh…” Eddie stammered, his eyes flicking down to your lap and back up to your face. “...you still want it on your hip?”

Your heart rate doubled.

“Um, yeah.” you awkwardly shifted your weight onto your knees, grabbing hold of your waistband and unbuttoning your shorts. You shimmied them over your hips, revealing the rest of your leotard- leotard, Eddie realized. Not a tank top. You were wearing a black leotard. It was almost like the kind that he’d seen ballerinas wear, except it cut so high on your hips that he was sure it wouldn’t be allowed in any of the dance studios he could think of, and….yep. YEP, it was practically a thong. Your ass was out. You were sitting on the floor of his bedroom with your ass out.

Chill out, Munson! He screamed inwardly at himself, Chill the fuck out!

Of course, you couldn’t tell that there was a war going on between Eddie’s ability to function and the short-circuiting that threatened to render him unable to do anything but stare at you. All you could see was the way his jaw had gone slack and his eyes bugged out of their sockets.

You smiled shyly, a twinge of something between satisfaction and guilt nudging at your heartstrings. “I figured this thing would be less awkward than if I was sitting here in my underwear,” you laughed nervously as you gestured to your leotard.

Eddie gulped. He couldn’t see much of a difference. “Yeah, totally.”

A beat passed. You grabbed a bag of gummy worms from the floor, tearing it open with a crinkle of the plastic that would not have been so loud if the two of you weren’t dead silent. You bit into the candy where the color changed from pink to blue, then finally muttered through your chewing, “Ready when you are.”

Eddie blinked rapidly, taking his Sharpie in his hands. “Uh, yeah… yeah, okay.”

With your free hand, you pointed to the part of your hip where your flesh naturally creased as your thigh met your pelvis.

“Is here good?”

Eddie gulped.

“Yeah, that’s good.” But Eddie was very much not good. He was the opposite of good, he felt like he was malfunctioning. When he placed his free hand on your upper thigh, he almost apologized. Why the hell did he feel like he had to apologize? He had no clue. His palms were sweating- did you feel how sweaty his palms were? Oh god. He forgot what a bat looked like- you were trusting his artistic skills enough for him to permanently ink his drawing into your skin and he couldn’t even remember what a goddamn bat looked li- oh, wait, he had them on his own forearm now. Eddie glanced at his arm, reminding himself what a goddamn bat looked like.

He’s never felt like more of a nervous idiot than right now.

Meanwhile, you felt like you were about to explode.

His hand was warm. So warm as he grasped your thigh. Whenever he’d touched you before, there was always a barrier, some form of separation between his skin and yours- jeans, a sweater, a flannel.

A leather jacket.

That’s right- he had taken his jacket back. Maybe you were reading too deep into things, but you had this unshakable feeling that taking back that jacket had been a message.

We’re just friends. Nothing more.

But if that was true, then why was he looking at your thighs the way he was? Why had he looked at you the way he did when he said you should go with him when he leaves Hawkins?

He wasn’t your boyfriend… you knew that.

So why couldn’t you shake this undeniably girlfriendish ache in your chest?

“Okay.” Eddie’s voice jolted you out of your downward spiral into your very inconvenient feelings. “Check that out in the mirror, make sure you like it.”

You straightened up, walking on your knees until you faced the mirror leaning against the wall and inspected the tiny, perfect little bat that he’d drawn on the fullest part of your hip.

It matched the bats that now decorated his arm, now surrounded by an angry red halo that bloomed across his skin. Once that bat was inked, it would be something connecting you and Eddie forever- a shared experience, a secret that the two of you would always be in on.

Suddenly, you realized that in this moment there wasn’t a single thing you wanted more than a matching tattoo with Eddie Munson.

Well, there was one thing. But you had a feeling that wasn’t happening tonight. The tattoo, however…

“I love it.” You looked over your shoulder at Eddie, but his eyes were a little too busy staring at your practically naked behind to meet your gaze.

“Ahem.”

Breaking free of his trance, Eddie shook his head a tad, which drew a small chuckle from your smirking lips. Eddie couldn’t help but smile too, albeit more shyly than you.

“Distracted?” You teased, unable to hold back your glee at this kind of attention- any kind of attention- from Eddie.

He sighed, blinking rapidly while he finally met your eyes. There was something new in the way he was looking at you- if you didn’t know better you might call it frustration, but it was an amused sort of frustration. Almost like his eyes were saying “what am I going to do with you?” but through sunglasses tinted with desire.

You wanted to bottle that, stow it away for emergencies. Wanted to preserve the way that gaze made you feel so that you could experience it over and over again.

“No.” Eddie murmured through a rueful grin. “Lie down, it’ll be easier to ink the skin while it’s flat.” You did as he instructed, feeling the crinkle of newspaper underneath the skin of your rear. Once again, you found yourself staring up at the water stain on Eddie’s ceiling until his face came into view, looking down at you as he readied the tattoo machine.

“Are you?” You heard him ask.

You raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”

The pads of Eddie’s fingers poked and prodded at the skin around where your tattoo would soon have an indefinite spot on your hip, and you wondered if he could tell that your temperature shot up ten degrees each time you felt his hands on you.

“Are you distracted?” he clarified. “Because it hurts less when you’ve got something else to focus on.”

“Oh.” Suddenly, your mind went blank. Of course, the moment you wanted something to distract you, all ideas turned tail and ran. “Um…”

Snap!

Your jaw dropped as the elastic of your leotard snapped back to your skin from where Eddie had pulled it away with his pointer finger. “Where’d you even get this thing?”

Now it was your turn to short-circuit.

“Uh-” You stammered, interrupted by the machine beginning to buzz.

Eddie didn’t wait for you to finish your thought before reminding you what he’d asked. “C’mon, Sweet Tart, where’d you get the leotard?”

You knew he was trying to distract you so you didn’t feel the pain, but you couldn’t help the tensing of your muscles as the needle pierced your skin. You winced, staring at the water stain with a newfound intensity. “Dance store.” you gritted through lips that formed a tight line.

“Dance store, huh?” You could hear the smile through Eddie’s words. “And why were you in a dance store?”

You huffed out a short, breathy laugh, careful to keep your hip still as Eddie’s needle continued to do its work. “I was making a Flashdance costume. Heard about this Halloween party a few weeks ago, but then we made the tattoo plans… and I had already bought the leotard, so…”

It was disconcerting to speak with Eddie without looking at him; he was a very expressive person, always talking with his hands, always making sure that he looked you in the eyes when you spoke to him. But now he was focused on his work on your hip, leaving your eyes to shift between staring at his ceiling and fluttering closed.

“You were going to wear this thing to a party?” he asked, incredulous.

Your eyebrows wrinkled over your closed eyes. “I would’ve worn tights under it…”

He snorted. “That wouldn’t have made a difference.”

You winced, groaning as the needle hit a nerve that particularly stung. “What- ah, shit- what are you trying to say?”

The buzzing stopped for a moment. “Fuck, you okay?” Eddie’s face leaned into your field of vision, his frizzy brown hair backlit into a halo by the light from the lamp behind him. “You want to take a break?”

You shook your head, taking a mental snapshot of how ethereal he looked like this. “No, you can keep going, I’m fine.”

Cautiously, Eddie got back to work. A few wordless seconds ticked by before you spoke.

“What did you mean, ‘that wouldn’t have made a difference’?”

Eddie’s reply was matter-of-fact, but you could have sworn that you heard a hint of protectiveness in his voice when he said, “Tights or no tights, the whole party would have been staring at your ass, Sweet Tart.”

The “T” sound in “Tart” was soft this time. So soft, it was barely there at all, and it almost sounded like he’d just called you sweetheart. If only. You’d give anything to be Eddie’s sweetheart.

Whether he’d meant to blend that consonant or not, it made you brave. “Is that a bad thing?”

A pause. Then, “Is this a trap?”

“Answer the question, would a bunch of people staring at my ass be a bad thing?”

Eddie sighed. “This is definitely a trap,” he muttered, before replying “No, Ace, objectively it would not be a bad thing. But sometimes people view girls differently when they walk around with their asses out.”

“Do you look at me differently when my ass is out?” You were being cheeky, you knew it.

“No, I don’t look at you differently.” came his instant response, muttered through nearly-closed lips. “I just look at you.”

Nothing could stand against your smile, not even you. “Yeah, that much I could see in the mirror.”

“You don’t sound too upset about that.”

This was different from the flirting you were used to with Eddie. Your regular flavor of flirtation had always been surface-level banter; nothing past a jab here and there, a joke at his expense or a nickname thrown your way.

Now? You were talking about the way he looked at your body, and the fact that he could tell that you liked when he looked. The two of you were in uncharted territory, and you buzzed under his touch in time with the inky needle at the beautiful unknown of it all.

“Okay, the outline is done but I’m about to start filling it in.” Eddie warned. “This part hurts a little more. You wanna take a break?”

You nodded. While Eddie jumped up to get you both a glass of water, you sat up on your elbows and peered over at your hip to get a look at your new ink. When you saw it, you gasped so fervently that you startled yourself.

It was perfect. The perfect little bat.

It wasn’t completely symmetrical. The outline was a tad thicker in certain places than others. But those imperfections made it his. And the fact that it was on your skin made it yours.

You couldn’t wait to wake up and stare at it like this every single day.

Eddie returned a moment later with two mismatched cups of tap water. Once you’d both rehydrated, he got to work replacing the needle at the end of the machine with a new one, as well as changing out various attachments and fiddling with a knobby-looking piece until he seemed satisfied with what he’d changed.

You were impressed with how intensely focused Eddie was on this sort of work; it didn’t seem to be taking him long to get the hang of this. It also didn’t take him long to come up with another topic of conversation that teetered on the line between friendly and flirty.

“Ever played Fuck, Marry, Kill?”

You had not, but the title of the game brought an unexpected chuckle out of you. “Edward Munson, I am a lady! At least take me out to dinner first-”

“I’m going to take that as a no.” Eddie chuckled, and you could hear his deadpan in the tone of his voice. “I say three people’s names and you have to tell me which you’d fuck, which you’d marry, and which you’d kill. Comprende?”

“Uhh-” whatever you’d been about to say was cut short by a harsher buzz than before, accompanied by the aggressive sting of needles on your skin. “Mmh, shit, okay yeah sure let’s play.”

Eddie smiled to himself. He wasn’t sure why he loved the little noises and whispered curses that spilled from your mouth while he tattooed you, but he honestly thought they might be the cutest sounds he’d ever heard. You were taking the pain like a champ- he was actually pretty proud of you in this moment as you remained still through the sting.

“Lars Ulrich, James Hetfield, and Kirk Hammett”

You rolled your eyes. Eddie had ensured over your many rides in his van this summer that every Metallica song he’d played had been an educational experience. Eddie had picked up a cassette of their debut album in July, and ever since he’d become obsessed. Already, he was trying to persuade the other members of his band to figure out how to play The Four Horsemen by ear.

Needless to say, you knew enough about the band to at least answer the question.

“Well I’m killing Lars for sure.”

“Poor Lars never stood a chance.”

You grinned, willing the distraction into something great enough to numb the pain. “And I think I’m gonna have to fuck Hetfield.”

“‘Have to fuck Hetfield,’ such a sacrifice.”

You carefully stretched your arms up to rest above your shoulders, cradling your head on your hands like a pillow. “Hey, if someone’s got to do it, I’ll take one for the team.”

You heard him snort, then after a moment’s quiet he added, “So you’re marrying Kirk Hammett, then?”

“I guess so.”

“What makes Kirk marriage material? Over the other two, I mean.”

You thought about Kirk Hammett’s wild, dark curls. His build. His brown button eyes. The way he looked holding a guitar.

“I don’t know, there’s just something about him.”

Eddie thought about the way he’d been trying to make himself look more like a rockstar ever since he’d first seen the tiny, grainy picture of the Metallica members in the corner of a page of Rolling Stone; he’d been bumming copies off Jeff’s subscription since the seventh grade. How he’d started growing out his hair after seeing Kirk’s long, black mane. He smiled.

He must be doing something right.

“Alright, Mrs. Hammett,” He quipped, “My turn, hit me with bachelorettes one through three, please.”

You thought over your options, trying to think of women you’d heard him mention before. Wondering if he thought any of them had something in common with you, and praying to God he didn’t kill them.

“Olivia Newton-John,”

Already, Eddie was descending into a fit of giggles.

“Why are you laughing? She’s pretty!”

Eddie launched into a falsetto rendition of the chorus from Grease’s Hopelessly Devoted to You, and you were instantly fighting the giggles too.

“Shut up! I’m not done yet. Olivia Newton-John… have you seen Fast Times?”

His response came in a tone of voice that was the vocal equivalent of a side-eye. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I don’t know if you know who Phoebe Cates is.”

“Oh,” Eddie sighed dreamily, “I know who Phoebe Cates is.”

You rolled your eyes, but chuckled nonetheless. “Okay then- Olivia Newton-John, Phoebe Cates, and Carrie Fisher.”

Eddie barked out a joyous “Ah!” before answering, “Well this is easy, Ace, say goodbye to Newton-John!”

You mock-gasped. “You’re killing Sandy?”

“I’m killing Sandy.”

“That is brutal. She was so innocent, too.”

Eddie squinted at the half-filled tattoo, smirking into his explanation. “Okay, I see the appeal, Ace, I truly do. That outfit at the end is killer.” He paused. Should he say it? Would he be too obvious if he did?

Ah, fuck it.

“I’m a sucker for a woman in red shoes, let me tell ya. However-” Eddie quickly glazed over that last sentence, as well as any opening you might have gotten to think about how that might relate to you. “-I’ve gotta fuck Phoebe Cates. Because… y’know-”

“Boobies?” you beat him to the punch.

Eddie confirmed with a matter-of-fact “Boobies.” He glanced up at your face for a moment, curious to see if he could read what you thought of his answers, but you were staring pensively at his ceiling, expression unreadable. “And you have to have known I was marrying Leia the moment she was an option.”

“You have a thing for Princess Leia?”

“Are you joking?” Eddie asked, incredulously. “How could I not? The woman’s the definition of a spitfire, she kicks ass and takes names. Not to mention, she’s got a thing for scoundrels.”

You hummed. “Do you think you’re a scoundrel, Eddie?”

“Well I’m certainly not a scruffy-looking nerf herder, I’ll tell you that much.”

You winced playfully, “A nerf herder you are not… but you are a bit scruffy.”

“You’ve got me there, princess.”

Eddie went silent. The nickname had just slipped out- all this talk of scoundrels and princesses and strong women who weren’t afraid of a fight and before he knew it, he was seeing more similarities between you and Leia than he’d realized were there before.

Princess had just seemed right. It just slipped out.

The line between friendship and dangerous territory had been so clearly drawn in Eddie’s mind before tonight. Where had he gone wrong? That once clear line was getting blurry.

Eddie was absolutely convinced that he would probably find a way to single handedly ruin your friendship before he was finished filling in your tattoo- which you would inevitably hate, because it would remind you of the asshole who you used to be friends with before he made things weird between you.

“My turn,” your voice cut through Eddie’s downward spiral, drawing a relieved sigh from him that tickled the skin of your thigh. “Let’s make this round more interesting. Only names of people from Hawkins.”

“Hm, that is interesting.” he mused, the needle inching its way toward the last remaining centimeter of bare skin left within the outline. “Let me think… Chief Hopper-”

You barked out a laugh, “Oh great start, Eds.”

“Chief’s a good looking guy! I don’t know why you’re laughing!” but Eddie was smiling ear to ear, delighted that his awkward apprehension had already begun to dissipate. “Principal Higgins-”

“Are you only going to give me old men as options?”

Eddie was going to do exactly that, because he didn’t want to picture you marrying or- God forbid- fucking any men in Hawkins that you might actually enjoy doing either of those things with. He wasn’t jealous, per se… but none of the shitheads in Hawkins were good enough for you. Eddie wasn’t even good enough for you; not yet, at least. He could picture a future version of himself one day taking his chances with you, once you’d both skipped town and found your way in some thriving city somewhere.

You were both too good for this place- you were the first person to make him think that about himself.

“What was that security guard’s name at the mall? Average joe looking guy? Quentin? Quincey?”

“Oh, you mean Quinn?”

“Knew his name started with a Q.” Eddie softly bit his bottom lip as he finished the last bit of your bat’s wing. “Hopper, Higgins, and Quinn. Those are your options.”

You groaned. “These choices suck, can I just kill them all?”

“I kinda like it when you go all bloodthirsty, Ace.”

You rolled your eyes before letting them flutter closed. “Ugh, well I’m obviously killing Higgins… he’s never been nice to you and all he cares about are school sports. I guess… I mean if I have to, I’ll fuck Hopper.”

Eddie was beside himself with giggles, “I mean, that’s one way to get out of a speeding ticket.”

“You’re lucky I can’t smack you right now.” You ignored Eddie’s snickering and continued. “And I don’t think I’d mind being married to Quinn, he always smiles at me and asks how my day was. Plus he’s kind of cute, he’s got nice hair.”

Eddie wrinkled his nose. “I don’t see it.”

You laughed, and the jingling tone of your voice suddenly sounded too loud as the buzzing of Eddie’s machine stopped.

“Alright, Ace,” Eddie announced, leaning back to survey his work. “Check out your new ink.”

You didn’t need to look at it again to know it would be perfect, but you looked anyway. You stood on your sleeping legs and gazed at the little black bat on your hip- it sat beautifully balanced on the skin framed by your high cut leotard, and you knew at once that you’d think of Eddie each time you saw it. This was exactly what you wanted- a daily reminder of exactly how he made you feel, of who he was to you.

At this moment, it dawned on you exactly what it was that Eddie made you feel. The way you always wanted to be around him, and the way he had become a balloon that inflated your chest every time he made you laugh, and how you knew- just knew- that you’d follow him anywhere if he asked.

You loved Eddie Munson. You were in love with him.

And you couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot at that little asymmetrical bat.

Part 6

Taglist: @emma77645 , @rustboxstarr, @josephquinnsfreckles, @rozxartaki, @sheneedsrocknroll92

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #stranger things fic #impossible to hate you #ithy #friends to enemies to lovers #friends to lovers

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ddejavvu · 1 year

Note

hi lovely!! I was wondering if you could write something about Hotch? people always say he seems so scary and intimidating but mans smiles so much and make little joke! Anyway just something about the reader noticing that and the rest of the BAU being confused af 😂

stealing one of my favorite hotch lines from the whole show for this <3

"If I were you, I'd give your vacation days away to a colleague in need." Blake muses, hair curling over her shoulders as you wait for Hotch's arrival. You're not sure why Rossi is so adamantly against vacations, but Blake's hermetic suggestion has been the closest explanation you've heard so far.

"Garcia," Rossi snaps, pointing emphatically at Penelope, "See how many people in the bureau have spouses in the military serving overseas."

Penelope's sweet face blooms with a smile and she gets busy on her tablet, "I am on it. Altruism is sexy."

"Yes it is." A stern voice comes from the doorway and your Unit Chief is there, donning a crisp suit and his typical surly frown, "Let's get started."

With the arrival of crime scene photos on screen, no one seems to pay much stock to what Hotch had said. But you always pay attention to him, more than the rest, perhaps unhealthily so.

His words stick in your mind, as well as the deadpan tone he'd said them in, and you can't help but let out a soft snort, a barely-there breath of air from your nose. It doesn't match the mood of the room, but not many people hear it, so only Reid and Hotch shoot you questioning glances.

"You're funny," You offer in explanation to Hotch, busying yourself with the file in front of you that everyone already flipped open. You don't want to get reprimanded for not paying attention so for as long as you can feel Hotch's gaze on the side of your head, you stare at the screen with rapt attention. When he finally turns to his own file, though, you sneak a glance at him, and you swear his lips are less turned down than usual, perhaps even close to a smile.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

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ameenvie · 11 months

Text

Wildest Dreams - jamie tartt x keeley jones x fem!reader

masterlist | ao3 | ko-fi | fic recs

Word count: 4k Pairing: Jamie Tartt x Keeley Jones x fem!reader Warnings: nsfw, smut, minors DNI!, threesome, oral (both m and f receiving), dirty talk, dom!Keeley, switch!Jamie, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex Tags: smut Prompt/Summary: Kinktober day 5 - Threesome. You have a sex dream about Keeley and your boyfriend Jamie makes sure that your dreams come true. A/N: I'm sure Taylor Swift didn't write Wildest Dreams so I can title a smutfic after it but oh well! The premise might be super silly but this is what I came up with lol, but hey it's smut so it doesn't have to be logical at all times right? 😭 I hope y'all like it! Also I'm not sure what the rules are here but I'd like to finish the rest of the prompts even though it won't be October anymore. Is that legal? 😂 Have fun, and let me k now how you liked this one! ❤❤

Your eyes shot open, and you needed a second to take in your surroundings in the dark. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest, and you let out a shaky breath as you looked over at your phone to check the time. It was a dream.

The small digits said 5:34 and you were relieved you still could catch a little sleep before actually having to wake up. You turned to your side and saw Jamie sleeping with his back towards you, so you scooched over to wrap your arm around his waist, spooning him. He felt so warm and as you were listening to his breathing, feeling his chest rising and falling steadily, you were asleep again in just mere seconds.

The morning sun peeked through the blinds when you woke up. You were laying on Jamie’s chest as he was slowly caressing your hair, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“Morning, love” he mused, and leaned down to kiss you. “Did you sleep well?” he asked with a smug smile on his face. You paid no mind to it.

“Yeah, it was alright. Do you want some breakfast?”

“Mm, are you on the menu?” he asked cheekily and you rolled your eyes at him. You were laughing as you got out of the bed and started your day.

You splashed some water on your face in the bathroom after you brushed your teeth absent-mindedly. You still couldn't get your dream out of your head, it loomed over you like a raincloud, spreading into every corner of your mind. The weather was exceptionally sunny, given that it was the middle of autumn in England. Maybe you could go for a walk on the countryside with Jamie – you thought as you prepared your favorite quick breakfast. You were so preoccupied you didn’t realize he entered the kitchen, only when he already stood behind you with his hands on your hips, pulling you flush against his chest. His mouth hovered against your ear, and you felt his breath on your neck, causing a shiver to run down your spine as your breath hitched and heat rose in your belly.

“Stop, or I’ll mess up your food” you chuckled as he pressed a kiss on your neck. Truth was he drove you mad.

“Would be worth it” he replied and turned you around to face him. He was looking at you with a beaming smile, but didn’t say anything else. You were so in love with him.

“So” you started as you finished up the breakfast and moved to the dining table, “any plans for today?” You were very excited that you could finally spend the whole weekend together, without a match our excessive training. It’s not that Jamie’s job bothered you – hell, you were his biggest fan and supporter, but it was nice to spend some time together, just the two of you from time to time.

“I thought we could invite Keeley over” he said nonchalantly, which caused you to choke on your own spit.

“You what?” you asked, and you couldn't hide the shock in your tone, which you realized didn’t make any sense. Why couldn't he invite her over? She’s your friend. He cocked a brow at you and let out a small chuckle.

“Are you okay? That a problem?”

“No, no! Not at all, it just went to the wrong pipe, that’s all.” You scratched your throat to emphasize. “I’d love to have her, sure.”

A wide, almost Cheshire cat smile spread across his face and his eyes lit up. Honestly if you weren’t occupied by trying to act normal you would've definitely realized that he was acting weird. But you didn’t.

“Wicked! I’ll drop her a text. Should we get food?”

“Yeah, sure” you said, your mind still in an embarrassed haze. “Hey, Jamie?”

“Yes, love?”

“Shouldn't we invite Roy as well?” Jamie didn’t reply at first, he just chuckled.

“Maybe next time.” You nodded and finished your breakfast before the two of you went out to do some grocery shopping and planned dinner. The day went by pretty fast and agonizingly slow at the same time. You felt awkward, your nerves were restless, your mind running thousand miles a second. It’s so stupid, it’s just a dream! It’s normal for friends to have sex dreams about each other. It’s not like she knows. You must act natural.

The ring of the doorbell snapped you out of your thoughts.

“I’ll get it!” Jamie said and bolted towards the entrance of your shared home. You tried to calm your nerves as you braced yourself.

“Hey babes!” Keeley said in her usual singsong voice as she hugged you. You hugged her back and let out an awkward ’hi’. She chuckled before she looked at Jamie.

“Dinner is ready in a few seconds, take a seat!” you offered, and they sat down. Jamie opened a bottle of wine for you, but he didn’t drink. You served the dinner and after a bit of time and a glass of wine – your nerves finally calmed down. Jamie seemed very affectionate all evening, he touched you at every given occasion, ran his fingers on your thigh, kissed the top of your hand.

During dinner you laughed and talked a lot, Keeley shared funny stories about work, you reminisced about old times, it was a light-hearted, warm moment. But you couldn't help yourself catching glimpses of her lips from time to time, remembering the way they kissed you in your dream. Her fingers wrapped around the wine glass, reminding you how they curled inside you. You squeezed your thighs together and let out a shaky breath before you stood up abruptly, muttered a small ’excuse me’ and stormed off to the bathroom.

You splashed some water on your face before Jamie entered behind you.

“You alright, love?” he stood behind you just like he did in the morning, this time wrapping his arms around your chest, kissing your neck. You let out a shaky breath.

“Jamie, I-” you started, hesitating if you should even say anything. It was so silly. “I had a sex dream about Keeley last night.” you blurted out, squeezing your eyes shut. You felt Jamie smile into your neck.

“I know” the prick said. He said, ‘I know’. You spun around in his arm, a look of disbelief on your face.

“I’m sorry you what?” you scoffed. “I swear to God Jamie you’re such an asshole!”

“C’mon love, wait a second-” he started but you left him in the bathroom alone, your blood was boiling in your veins. You felt like you were made fun of. Mocked. By him of all people. You sighed before you went back to the kitchen, and you saw Keeley has moved to the couch.

“You want more wine?” you asked, and she nodded enthusiastically. You chuckled as you settled next to her and poured both of you some.

“Everything alright?” she asked, leaning against the back of the couch.

“Yeah, of course. All good.” You took a sip.

“You know you can tell me anything right?” she asked, but it was more of a rhetorical question. She didn’t need any answers, she knew them already. You trusted her with your whole life. She was sweet, funny, beautiful, loyal, and her eyes were looking so deep inside yours that for a second you thought the world stopped spinning before she leaned in and kissed you.

It was shy at first, unsure if the gesture was welcome. And for a second you weren’t sure either, shock paralyzed your body. But after a few seconds you set your glass down and kissed her back, planting both your hands on her face, pulling her closer. Her kiss deepened as she bit your lip before she smiled. Her hand wandered to your waist where she dug her nails into you before she pulled away for air. She looked into your eyes before her gaze locked onto something behind you, and when you turned you saw Jamie leaned against the door frame of the living room.

Blood froze in your veins as the situation just dawned on you.

“Jamie, I-” you started, but he chuckled as Keeley shushed you and turned your head back towards her.

“C’mon babes” she mused as she caressed your face with her thumb. “He was bit of a prick, wasn’t he?” She looked at Jamie who still didn’t move from the door frame, but she didn’t let you to turn around. She moved closer to you to trace her lips against your neck and ear. “Doesn’t he deserve to watch his mad fit girl get kissed by someone else?” She purred; her eyes locked on Jamie’s. His jaw clenched as he held back a moan. Your eyes shut; you tilted your head to give better access to Keeley. This whole situation was so unreal, you just let it take you wherever.

Her lips pressed slow, wet kisses on your neck as she moved to your jawline, then your ear.

“I want you to tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” she asked. “I’ll stop any second, okay babes? Promise me.”

“I- I promise” you whispered, and you heard Jamie’s shaky sigh from the background. You weren’t really aware of what was happening around you, but Keeley nodded for Jamie to move closer, so he settled in one of the armchairs.

She pressed her lips against yours once more, this time with more pressure, more passion. Her tongue grazed against your lower lip, asking for access which you so happily granted. Her tongue was in your mouth in a second, her tongue swirling around yours, dancing in a perfect rhythm. Her hand sneaked under your t-shirt, leaving light touches on your abdomen, moving up to your breast. She quickly unclasped your bra and squeezed your breast, which caused you to moan into her mouth. The reality of the situation still hasn’t dawned on you yet, as she ran her thumb across your nipple, toying with the hard bud.

“Do you want me to stop?” she whispered.

“No, God” you stuttered, and you involuntarily bucked your hips.

“Gosh, Jamie, is she always this needy? Aren’t you giving the poor thing what she needs?” she chuckled while looking at Jamie. You couldn't help but followed her gaze to your boyfriend, who just sat there, pupils blown wide, and had a massive blush on his cheeks. You weren’t sure if you ever saw him like this before, and you felt self-conscious but bold at the same time.

Keeley turned your body towards him and knelt behind you on the couch. You felt flustered keeping eye contact with Jamie.

She took the hem of your shirt and slowly pulled it over your head before she slid the strap of your bra down your arms, exposing your chest completely. You noticed the massive tent in Jamie’s pants, and she did too. She started to slowly massage both your breasts and boy did she make a show out of it. She was squeezing and fondling them while she kissed your neck, biting down lightly. You closed your eyes and tilted your head to the side to give better access before she slowly swiped her thumb against your hard nipple.

“No touching yourself, babe” she mused and for a second you didn’t understand – your hands were gripping the couch next to you – but then you opened your eyes and saw Jamie squirming in the armchair. You moaned and you felt arousal pool in your underwear. “So greedy, isn’t he? Wants all the fun for himself” she smirked before she put her thumb in your mouth. You licked it and swirled your tongue around it before you started to suck it, making a real show out of it. Jamie’s grip tightened on the armrest as he looked at you.

“Fucking hell, love” he moaned, causing Keeley to chuckle. She pulled her finger out of your mouth before pressing it against your nipple, drawing lazy circles around it. The new sensation caused you to see stars. She took her own fingers into her mouth before she pushed them inside your pants and underwear. Your hips rolled against her fingers as you tilted your head back.

“Keeley” you whispered while slowly grinding against her fingers.

“Do you want me to stop?” she asked but you shook your head quickly.

“No, please, please-“ you whined but she silenced you with a kiss before she looked over to Jamie and invited him over, and he was more than happy to do so. In a heartbeat he was kneeling in front of you, wrapping you up in a warm embrace as he stole you from Keeley for a moment. He kissed you with so much love and adoration that you felt your heart burst with love. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him flush against you, while Keeley drew slow circles on your back, not wanting to interrupt the moment.

“Jamie, I’m sorry-“ you started, but he shushed you and shook his head. He pressed his soft lips on yours as he licked into your mouth, his tongue grazing against yours.

“I love you” he whispered before he moved his hands to your hips and started to pull your pants down. He did it slowly, leaving soft kisses at every new inch of naked skin. In the meantime, Keeley took her blouse off and you felt her half-naked breasts press against your back as she moved her hands back to where they were before. Jamie reached to touch the wet patch on your underwear before Keeley brushed his hand away and clicked her tongue.

“No touching, pretty boy. Not yet” she smiled as she pushed her fingers through your folds. You arched your back and whimpered as she moved them excruciatingly slow. “Get rid of those, will ya’?”

Jamie didn’t need another word, he hooked his finger into your underwear and started to pull down slowly, revealing your dripping cunt in front of him.

“Good boy.” Keeley’s slender fingers were slowly caressing your folds, stopping just before they touched your clit, teasing you. When Jamie got your panties off, he threw them to the side and spread your thighs. He was practically drooling at the sight in front of him, and you felt exposed as you were laid out in front of them, completely naked while they were still very much clothed. Jamie looked up at Keeley, but she just smiled.

“Do you want a taste, pretty boy? Of this?” she asked as she spread your folds with her fingers before him. You were flustered as you felt your juices drip out of your pussy at her words. This whole scene was so obscene, but it drove you mad. You loved it. Jamie didn’t answer he just nodded. “Should we let him have a taste?” Keeley whispered in your ear while she pinched your nipple. “Do you want his tongue on you?”

You heard Jamie groan and you looked into his eyes. He looked like he wanted to devour you.

“Yes, I- please Keeley, Jamie-“ you struggled to put a proper sentence together, but it was good enough. She nodded and Jamie let out a relieved sigh before he blew some air onto your clit which caused you to roll your hips and whine out as he finally kissed your cunt. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and pulled you closer into him as he devoured you, lapping at your drenched entrance before he moved to kissing and sucking your clit.

You were a moaning and whimpering mess under their touches, which they loved. Keeley was kissing you and playing with your breasts while Jamie ate you out as a man with a mission. And his only mission was to please you. He moved his finger and teased it against your entrance before he pushed it in, quickly adding another one after. His tongue never left you and you started to feel overwhelmed – all these sensations made your head spin, and you felt a knot building in your belly as you rocked your hips against Jamie’s lips faster. Your grip on the couch tightened and it was almost painful, but you needed something to keep you grounded. The room was filled with the noise of your heavy breathing, moans, and skin rubbing against each other.

“Are you having fun, babes?” Keeley whispered in your ear between two kisses. You didn’t reply just nodded furiously, which she rewarded with a chuckle. “Look at her, Jamie, isn’t she gorgeous?”

Jamie’s eyes fluttered open as he looked up at you from between your thighs, and as you locked eyes you felt your body on fire, your orgasm approaching rapidly.

“Fuck, Jamie, I’m-“ you whined, your hand moving into his hair. “Please” you breathed out and he knew exactly how close you were. He moved all his attention to your clit while curling his fingers inside you just how he knew you loved, fucking you faster. You were grasping for air as you felt all your muscles tense before releasing completely, your orgasm washed over you, white overcome your vision as your toes curled, and your walls tightened around his fingers.

He moved his lips from you, planting soft kisses on your thighs as he helped you through your orgasm.

“Fucking hell, angel” he breathed, resting for a second. Once you regained a little of your composure, you pulled him up and made him sit next to you on the couch, between you and Keeley. The tent in his pants was massive and you almost felt sorry for him, so you decided to quickly ease his pain as you pulled his pants down. Keeley didn’t intervene, she just adored the two of you. Once you got his clothes off, his erection sprung free, and you already saw a few beads of precum leaking from it. You bit your lips before you leaned down and licked the tip of his dick. He hissed as he threw his head back, he was so sensitive after all the teasing.

You swiped a long lick against him before you got him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and slowly bobbing your head. Jamie was cursing under his breath, singing you praises.

“Fucking hell, love, so good. So good for me” he moaned as you licked and sucked his dick. You were lost in the sensation for a second before Keeley's voice snapped you out of it.

“May I?” she asked, and you looked up at her from under your lashes. Her hand was holding Jamie’s jaw, turning his head towards her. She wanted to kiss him. You didn’t remove your mouth from him, just nodded.

Keeley slowly planted her lips on Jamie’s, and he pushed himself deeper into your throat, causing tears to form in the corner of your eyes. You were so turned on you felt your body could combust into flames at any second. You couldn't help but peeked at them, and the sight was beautiful. Their kiss was passionate, all tongue and teeth while Jamie fucked your mouth. He held Keeley’s breast before he turned to you as they broke apart for air.

“Is this okay?” he started. “If not, I won’t touch her.” His eyes were honest, concerned and loving.

“I want you to make her feel good” you answered, and he moaned before you took him into your mouth again.

“I fucking love you.”

He kissed her again while he removed her bra before he took her nipple in his mouth, sucking on it harshly. Keeley threw her head back and moved her hand under your lips to wrap her fingers around Jamie where you couldn't take him anymore. You playfully licked her finger which caused her to chuckle.

Jamie grabbed your free hand and moved it to Keeley’s bare crotch. You weren’t sure if she removed her underwear when you weren’t looking or she just didn’t wear any, but it turned you on all the same.

“I want you to make her feel good” he said between heavy breaths. You moaned around his cock which caused him to twitch in your mouth. You swiped your thumb against Keeley's clit before you pushed a finger inside her. She was soaking wet. Her hand flinched at the sensation, and she spread her legs to give you better access. It was messy, you were all limbs tangled in each other, lost in the pleasure. But it also felt just right.

You quickened the pace of your finger as you felt Keeley ride you harder. Her breathing became shallow as she succumbed to the pleasure of your finger inside her and Jamie’s lips on her. With his free hand he grabbed your hair to still your movement, removing you from his dick.

“I want to fuck you first” he breathed, his chest rising and falling quickly. Your fingers never stilled inside Keeley, before she snapped, body freezing as she came all over your fingers. Jamie kissed her forehead as you helped her through her high, before pulling out your fingers. Jamie pulled you up before he kissed you and hugged you, while you held Kelley's hand.

“Was that alright?” you asked sheepishly, and as an answer she just laughed.

“Turn around” Jamie said, before he grabbed your waist and turned you to face away from him, straddling him. He sat up a bit and kissed the back of your neck. “Is this everything you dreamed of?” he mused before he kissed the sweet spot just under your ear.

“It’s more” you whispered as you felt him against your entrance. He smiled before he bit down onto your neck, and he slid inside you. The stretch was mind blowing, even after all this time.

“God, love. So good for me ain’t ya?” His head was buried against your neck as he held you against him. “So fucking tight.”

Keeley kneeled in front of you and kissed you before she started massaging your breasts again.

“You’re killing me” you moaned and rocked your hips harder against Jamie. In this position he hit your sweet spot with every thrust, driving you insane.

Keeley moved from your breast slowly to your abdomen, before she was face level with where Jamie entered you.

“Like the view?” he asked her with a smug tone, but he could barely keep it together.

“She’s so good, isn’t she?” she asked, and you felt yourself clench at the praise.

“Ah fuck, you like that don’t you angel?” His hips started to rock into you a little harder as he leaned against the back off the couch. “Such a good girl for us.” As if that wasn’t enough, Keeley dipped her head to lick your clit which caused you to flinch. She smirked before moving her head back down, this time licking both of you at the same time. Jamie’s fingers dug into your hips as he felt your pussy around him and her tongue on him at the same time.

She seemed to enjoy it just as much you did, making you squirm and whine under her tongue as she lapped at your cunt and Jamie’s dick at the same time.

“Keeley, fucking hell” he moaned, and your walls clenched around him. Your second orgasm started to build as you felt your muscles tense, ready to release at any second. “C’mon love, come with me” Jamie moaned into your ear as he bit your neck before pushing inside you harder. Keeley’s tongue circled around your clit in perfect rhythm before she sucked on it while she was caressing Jamie’s balls.

“Fuck, I can’t-“ he stuttered before his thrusts became erratic and he spilled his load inside you. The sensation pushed you over the edge and you came hard - walls crashing down as the coil snapped inside you and you came all around him. After a few sloppy thrusts Jamie pulled out of you and settled you and Keeley on the couch before he returned with some wet towels. He sat down next to you and embraced you.

The three of you were tangled on the couch, basking in the afterglow.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt smut #keeley jones x reader #keeley jones smut #fawktober2023 #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt ff #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x you #x reader #ted lasso x reader #kinktober2023 #smut

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nerdieforpedro · 20 days

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WIP Wednesday

It's been a while since I've done one of these. My writing has been all over the place so instead of posting snippets of one fic, I'll post the titles of the fics I'm working on and which character they feature.

I was tagged by @djarins-cyare @for-a-longlongtime and @604to647 most recently I think. 🤔

Honey and Sugarplum with Jack Daniels. Not on Tumblr, I threw it on AO3. Not sure when I'll have it on Tumblr, I need to finish it first.

Weddings 101 with Dieter - with well Dieter and @angelofsmalldeath-codeine 🤣 On Tumblr and AO3. Maya and Dieter’s saga will continue.

Just wanna lova ya, Sugar with Jack Daniels. This one isn't anywhere. It needs a lot more. It was a challenge @fhatbhabiee threw at me.

Coasting through the Rainbow with Javier Pena. On Tumblr and AO3. It's a queer fic that I need to finish that @perotovar and @julesonrecord looked over my bullet points for. I really want to finish this one, I only have half of it written.

Foul Play with Javier Pena. @magpiepills read over this one for me and if she likes it so do I. On AO3 currently, it's a different sort that I haven't written but I enjoy that the OC is devious and Javi is right there with her. 😎 This one is dark adjacent? Or maybe a sexual thriller? Or my attempt at one. lol

Within a Grumpy Spider's Web with Miguel O'Hara. An Oscar Issac character that I haven't written before. On AO3 and I like the push and pull between them, if that's even the right phrasing.

A Safe Place for Us with Dieter Bravo. On Tumblr and AO3. This one is smut with feelings pretty much and there's gonna be baby eventually. 🤗 lol

Fifty-Six Wildflower Lane with Frankie Morales. On AO3 only so far. Once I think of an ending and finish it, then I'll post on Tumblr since it will actually be finished. 😆 This one is dark.

Fire and Fury with Pero Tovar. On Tumblr and AO3. My dragon lady action, enemies to lovers, we're finally getting to sort of lovers now? 😩 This one is dark too.

No One's Good Girl with Qmir. @megamindsecretlair planted this seed a while ago with her own idea. My idea came to me before I went to sleep last night so I scribbled it and told her about it and she hit me with the "are you going to write it?" So now there's lore I've made and we're on this train. It's not anywhere except some bullet points in a notes app. 🫡 This one will likely be dark.

I feel like 10 is a nice even number and plenty to work with. 😂 I have too many ideas and no endings in sight save for a few. I welcome any and all questions or comments about them. I will likely ramble so be prepared. 🤭

NPT: @maggiemayhemnj @soft-persephone @soft-girl-musings @saturn-rings-writes @connectioneverywhere

@lotusbxtch @grogusmum @kewwrites @secretelephanttattoo @inept-the-magnificent

@bitchwitch1981 @iamskyereads @80ssong @din-cognito @huntingingoodwill

@lady-bess @jessthebaker @clawdee @tinytinymenace @syd-djarin

@yorksgirl @handspunyarns @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @trulybetty @chaithetics

@goodwithcheese @alltheglitterandtheroar @i-own-loki @avastrasposts @galaxyedging

@yopossum @kilamonster @rhoorl @musings-of-a-rose @yourcoolauntie

@sin-djarin @schnarfer

#fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #oscar isaac #oscar issac characters #wip wednesday

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weekly-star-wars-prompts · 27 days

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Welcome to Weekly Star Wars Prompts!

Hello there! If you’ve come looking for inspiration in the Star Wars fandom, you’ve come to the right place!

Every Monday, new prompts will be released for your consideration. Whatever form your creativity takes, we’ve got Star Wars prompts for you✨

✨QUICK LINKS✨

Ao3 Collection Post

Master List of Released Prompts

Submit Prompts Post

Prompt Contributor Post of Fame

Q&A (below cut)

Will you reblog prompt fills?

Not at this time.

Do I have to use the prompts for Star Wars fandom?

Nope! If a prompt inspires you to write something for another fandom, that’s awesome!

When will new prompts be posted?

Every Monday around 3 AM CST! (I will have the prompts scheduled to post, so if they aren’t on time, blame Tumblr 😂)

Is this a prompt challenge??

Not so much a challenge as an opportunity 😇

My hope for this blog is to be a place creators can come to when their creative muse needs some inspiration!

However, if you’d like to challenge yourself and fill prompts every week…go for it!! That’s awesome!!

Do I need to credit the blog when I use a prompt?

Nope! No credit necessary 🙃 (Unless you want to, of course!)

Where can I post my prompt fills?

Wherever you’d like!

What if I don’t understand a prompt?

Send an ask or a message — I’d be happy to help!

Your question not answered here? Send me a message or an ask!

(Dividers by @saradika)

#weekly Star Wars prompts #star wars #creative inspiration #weekly prompts #weekly star wars prompts 2024 #welcome post #pinned post

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billlydear · 2 years

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Hi ;) It's me again 😅 What about a fic where Reader has her periods and, you know, it's just Billy being there for her to help her get comfortable and taking care of her. 🥺 Maybe she is too embarassed to tell him at first but he notices she isn't feeling well so eventually reader tells him the truth to ease his worries. Like he doesn't get a damn thing about how periods work so maybe he goes to Max and asks her to give him some tips ? I know it's very scattered and a bit over the place, but I figured it would be very fluffy and sweet you know. 🤍 But of course you know best, so really if none of this inspires you be free to just ignore this 😅😂 Thank you so much ! Your fics make my shitty days better. 💕

MOODY - BILLY HARGROVE X READER

W.C 1165 - INBOX (please request !) - GIF CREDIT TO OWNER

A/N: I'm so happy that you like my writing! I hope you enjoy this, too, I'm sorry it's a bit late 😅

Max dreads the sound of Billy's heavy footfalls outside her door. They're light and stealthy when they need to be, but when no one else is home, Billy stomps around like a soldier.

She preps herself for an infuriating conversation before the door even opens, and when it does, it slams against the wall. It tries bouncing back, but Billy's arm stops it as he stands tall in her doorway.

"What?" She demands with narrowed eyes.

"You're a girl."

She fakes an incredulous glance down at her chest, "Oh my god. You're right! All this time, and I've never known."

"Cut it out." He snaps, eyes ablaze, "I mean, you're a girl. So you know how girls work."

"We're not all clones, y'know." She scoffs, "What, are you having trouble with Y/N?"

"Yes," Billy huffs, "She's in a mood."

"So? How am I supposed to help?" Max's nose scrunches, "She hasn't told me anything."

"Because you're always in a mood!" Billy finally crosses the threshold of her doorway, sitting on her bed even when she slams her feet against his leg to try and shove him off.

"Listen, I dunno what's wrong with her, she just gets off in her head or something, and she's all weepy and shit, 'real pissy. She refused to eat any of her lunch today just 'cause one of her chocolates melted and got onto her bag of chips. It wasn't even touching them, it was just on the package. And- and fuck, there's, like, no sex.

"Ew!" Max's mouth falls open, brows furrowing, "Gross! I- God, Billy. I mean, have you ever thought about asking her?" Max stares at Billy, unimpressed, "That usually helps."

"No, Maxine, I have not," Billy gripes, "Because it comes and goes. When I finally decide enough is enough, and I go to ask her, it is enough. She just goes back to normal."

"Well... Is it, like, a recurring thing, then? Like, every Friday or something? It could be a weekly quiz in a class she doesn't like, or a family dinner routine she's not thrilled about."

"Not even weekly," Billy muses, "It's, like, every couple of weeks or something. I dunno."

"Wait." Max finally folds the magazine she was reading shut, her fingers trapped inside to hold her place. She squints at Billy, "Your girlfriend has been getting pissy every few weeks, crying often, having intense mood swings for days at a time, and being... conservative with her body, and then like magic it just goes away one day?"

Billy calculates her words in his head, nodding silently.

"You're so stupid," Max guffaws, resuming her casual flip-through of a cosmopolitan she shouldn't have in the first place, "Go talk to your girlfriend, butt-brain. And whatever you do, don't act grossed-out."

"Spill." Billy demands, turning his head to stare at you where you sit in the passenger's seat.

"What?" You look over at him warily, "Spill what?"

"Whatever's making you all sad and shit," Billy waves a hand, and it hooks back onto the wheel despite not needing to. He's parked outside the movie theater, waiting for you to confess.

"I'm not- I'm not sad and shit, Billy." You promise, but the way your eyes widen momentarily makes him realize you're covering up, "Don't worry about it, okay? I got, like, no sleep last night. I'm just really tired."

"Yeah, well, I don't doubt that." Billy murmurs, running a thumb under your eyes. It catches the skin there, sensitive and baggy. "But there's something else. I.. I asked Max, and she said I should ask you."

"Oh." You supply lamely, cheeks burning at the thought of your boyfriend's younger sister knowing you're on your period. "Uh, it's really not anything super important, if you just wanna move on it'll be over in a few days."

"No," Billy shakes his head, curls flying, "I wanna know now. I'm trying to be supportive, don't you want to talk about it?"

"I- I appreciate that you're being supportive," You nearly cry, embarrassment flooding your chest that Billy takes as despair, "It's just.. kind of embarrassing? I'm- I'm on my period, okay? That's all. It's just making me a little crazy."

"Oh."

Billy, admittedly, does think it's gross. Not because of the whole misogynistic-natural-body-processes-are-gross type deal, but because he's only ever seen blood as a result of injuries like cuts, so thinking about it coming from your vagina makes his own parts ache, and not in a good way. Even if he knows you're not cut up down there, that it's natural and that the bloodshed itself doesn't hurt, it'll take a while to reprogram his brain's perception of blood. But he'll get over it, after all, you have to.

"O-kay," He drops one hand from the wheel, reaching out for your own that's laying limp in your lap. "So, like, walk me through this. My mom didn't stick around long enough to have any talks with me, and if Susan tried I'd kill myself."

"I just need to be sad sometimes, or- or irrational. Even if it seems silly to you, don't tell me that, it'll just make it worse. I have to get it out."

"Okay," He shrugs, "I already don't tell you when I think you're being silly, y'know. I'm not in the habit of insulting you."

"I know," You can't help the smile that curves soft over your face, "I just mean, like, stuff might seem really dumb sometimes. But just go with it, okay?"

"Okay." He repeats; a promise, "Oh- and, uh, sex is a no?"

"Big mess," You mumble, cheeks blazing, "Not worth it."

"Well- I think I'd like to be the judge of that," Billy stammers, "I don't mind a mess. I encourage it, actually."

"Not like this," You chuckle bashfully, "You do realize it'll get, like, on you, right? I'll just suck you off for the week, or something."

"That's not fair to you," His lips puff into a frown, "I don't care. Let's just do it, I can trash the sheets if it's really that bad."

"At least use a towel!' You groan, burying your burning cheeks in your hands. Billy isn't quite sure why you're so embarrassed by the prospect of bleeding on him. It's bound to happen eventually, he reasons, a leaky pad or a surprise visit, why not enjoy it?

"Towel. Smart." He grins, teeth shining bright under the dim streetlights outside the car, "So that's our plan, then?"

"That's our plan," You try concealing your smile when you lean in to kiss him, but it doesn't work, and instead you bump grins. He presses his lips to yours as best he can despite his smile, and you let your nose linger against his own for a second longer than you need to.

"Let's just make sure Max isn't home," You worry, but Billy's more preoccupied with peeling out of the parking lot and racing for home, "You owe her, big time for this one."

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove oneshot #billy hargrove drabble #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove headcanons #billy hargrove hcs #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove blurb

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valiantstarlights · 2 months

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Last Line Tag Game

Thank you for tagging me, @teejaystumbles! 🥰

I’m taking a break from writing the dialogue-heavy (dialogue only? 😂) oyakodon AU and decided to work on another story, namely (the first chapter of) wedding planner!Hob AU so I can finally put it on AO3. Enjoy! 😊

No pressure tagging: @seiya-starsniper @lenreli @valeriianz 🙇‍♀️

"Constantine's," Ric says cheerfully into the landline even as she dreads the conversation about to take place. She has an uncanny ability to predict whether or not the person calling would give her a headache, and her head has been pounding ever since she arrived at the office ten minutes ago.

"This is Mnemosyne Muse," the caller says. She sounds old and snooty, and Ric automatically knows she's gonna be a Karen. "Yes, that one. I need to speak to Johanna Constantine. The elder."

Mnemosyne Muse, Ric thinks, trying to remember who exactly that is. But all she has is a vague recollection of a sexy starlet way back in the day who had an affair with some bigwig much too old for her. Other than that? Nothing.

"A moment, ma'am," Ric says cordially. "Let me see if she's available."

A scoff. "She will be, for me. Now put her on the phone or I'll have her fire you for keeping one of her closest friends waiting."

Ric makes sure she's smiling before she speaks. She knows it's an empty threat--Mrs. Constantine's closest friends are her team, which includes Ric herself--but it's still going to feel good when she puts this bitch on hold. "Just a second, ma'am," she says again. "In the meantime, I'm going to put you on hold."

"On hold? Don't you know who I am? I can make your life a living h--"

#wedding planner au #dreamling #the sandman #my writing #tag game

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hazyange1s · 7 months

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1901 (Sebastian Sallow x F!MC)

so. I generated the middle photo with midjourney months ago and people on tiktok seemed to like it 😂 probably because we are desperately in need of some happy endings….

which brought my aching little heart to write a painfully self-indulgent one-shot based off of said picture (ft. my two brainchildren). this is from October and I’m cringing; I feel like I’ve improved a bit since but we’re here for vibes so who cares.

Synopsis: the year is 1901, and after a lifetime of dealing with the turmoil he became so accustomed to, Sebastian has finally gotten everything he could ever want. a night with his wife and best friends reminds him exactly how lucky he is.

Warnings: slightly suggestive reference (but still keepin it SFW), dad!Seb and Ominis, tooth-rotting fluff, aged up characters, alcohol use, pregnancy, not edited just raw word vomit

The stone and wood that made up Hogsmeade had hardly weathered since the first year Sebastian could remember coming, when he was a sprightly six year old boy with his parents. Back then, the buildings had looked larger than life. The people seemed wonderful and strange and extraordinary; their wands aloft to float signs or move merchandise. He had tugged on the folds of his mother's skirt upon staring with rapt attention, whining, "Mummy! When do *I* get to make things fly?"

"Soon, sweetling." His mother had smiled, the most beautiful sight he could comprehend at that tender age. "Soon, you yourself could be flying above the clouds."

Now, Sebastian found himself doing just that.

Cold wood bit into the callouses of his palms, which gripped the handle of his broom securely as the biting October wind tousled his dark hair into knots. He might have already frozen solid where he sat, had it not been the warming charm on his coat and the heat of his wife's smaller body pressed up against his back.

She shouted something just then amidst the roar of the wind in his ears. Sebastian turned for a split second to get a glimpse of the wide grin on her flushed, freckled cheeks.

The most beautiful sight in the world to him now.

"What?" He chuckled, turning back around as they neared the stone path leading into the quaint village.

"I said; they're going to have our heads for being late, so you better take full responsibility." Raegan repeated with her lips grazing Sebastian's ear.

Another laugh was dragged from his dry throat. Raegan had a special ability that when beyond just her fire-wielding, ancient magic, and skills on a broom. She was also one of the only people in the world who could make him laugh without really trying.

"I don't suppose you want me to tell them WHY?" Sebastian replied wryly as they landed and climbed stiffly off of the broom. The feeling of solid ground beneath their feet was a certainly a relief after miles of dark skies above the Highlands.

Raegan gave him a taunting little smirk that he'd come to understand was one she reserved especially for her husband. "Doubt you'll have to. It's hard to hide anything from those two. Ominis will probably sniff us out the moment we enter the pub."

She smoothed down the wild, russet tangle of waves Sebastian had run his hands through just an hour ago as they walked hand in hand over the bridge. He smiled at the memory as if he could still feel the softness of each lock between his fingers.

"I have considered the theory that he's part bloodhound."

The pair came to the familiar, flickering facade of the Three Broomsticks, pausing just outside when Sebastian tugged on Raegan’s hand to bring her to a stop beside him (a feat in itself, really).

“You know…” he mused, eyes crinkling at her questioning look. “Technically, we had our first date here.”

“If you call nearly getting…what were the words you used? Pulverized by a troll a romantic outing.” She laughed.

“Don’t forget the bar fight you nearly got me into. Honestly, it’s a wonder I managed to stick around for so long, with all the trouble you bring.”

The words were made in obvious jest and followed by an affectionate press of his winter-chapped lips to her temple. Because they both knew damn well that trouble was Sebastian’s middle name (it could replace Alexander for all he cared), and that chaotic whirlwind of a fifth year when they’d met was precisely what had him falling head over heels for her in record time.

“Well, as much as I love a good troll fight…the only thing you have to be scared of tonight is Ominis.”

A half-hearted scoff had Sebastian’s breath clouding in the air. “I wasn’t scared.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t wet yourself.”

“I was not scared!”

Raegan grinned indulgently at her husband, who rolled his eyes at the all-too-familiar teasing. Still, Sebastian found himself imitating her expression as he pulled her flush against his side and leaned down to fit his mouth to hers.

How many times had he enjoyed the saccharine taste that clung to every bit of her skin? It was far, far too many to count, surely, and the proof was in the way their lips moulded together like two pieces of a well-loved puzzle.

A rush of warmth hit their wind-chapped skin once the couple had finally broken apart, Sebastian opening the door for his distinctly kiss-drunk wife.

The Three Broomsticks was just as he remembered, too. Sirona, ever the dedicated businesswoman, spotted them instantly and offered a friendly wave. That was almost certainly Mr. Pippin and Mr. Hill chatting jovially over pints, and that blasted portrait of Ferdinand Pratt that had somehow withstood the ire of the patrons.

Raegan breathed the smallest of fires into her cupped hands before rubbing them together to generate more heat. It was not needed, though; for their friends had clearly planned ahead and already snagged the table just adjacent to the roaring hearth in the back center of the first floor.

Ominis's corn silk hair seemed to reflect its golden light, acting as a beacon for the Gyrffindor and Slytherin alumni to meander their way through the crowd and plop down eagerly at the round mahogany table.

"I was just about to send a Patronus if you hadn't shown up in the next five minutes." Diana gave them both an exasperated look, her brows shooting up as she took in their disheveled appearances. "Did you fly here?"

"Of course we did. It's a gorgeous night." Raegan leaned in to give her lifelong friend (sister might have been a more accurate term) a hug, despite the smaller girl's grumbling.

Ominis, who had his arm slung casually against the back of his wife’s chair, shook his head at Sebastian and Raegan like a disappointed father. It was a gesture so familiar to them both that it had been permanently seared in the back of their minds.

"Well, while you two were wasting time doing god knows what and flying fifty miles instead of Apparating like reasonable people, we've already been through half a flagon of wine." Ominis held up his half-full goblet as evidence.

The Hogwarts Professor was usually not one to indulge so heavily, but with the start of a new school year keeping him busy and his youngest daughter clinging to the chaos of her terrible twos, Sebastian supposed he had more than enough reason tonight.

"Well, you know me. I'll catch up in no time." Sebastian said with a roguish grin as he poured the rich, sweet-smelling liquid into a goblet that had clearly been waiting patiently for him.

Ominis, ever the gentleman, waved his wand to take serve Raegan from the flagon next, its contents tipping into a fourth cup.

"Oh, er...none for me, Ominis; thank you." Raegan said politely, the flush from the cold now returning for an entirely different reason.

His eyebrows furrowed into a mask of disbelief, as though the very fabric of the world had suddenly been torn open. "Are you ill? Or has someone taken Polyjuice Potion and replaced your wife, Sebastian?"

Raegan couldn't help but pair her laugh with an eye roll at Ominis's over dramatic display of surprise over her refusal to drink. Though she supposed it was true, there were very few times in her life she'd turned down a casual drink.

"Oh my-"

Diana's soft gasp broke the suspenseful silence, her pale, delicate fists causing ripples in their goblets as they collided with the table's surface. "I knew it! I told you that dream was a vision, Ominis!"

Now it was Raegan and Sebastian's turn to look confused, their shifting eyes replacing the self-indulgent grins they'd donned long before they'd arrived in the village.

"What dream?" Raegan asked, grabbing her friend's hand to recapture the raven-haired Seer's attention. "What did you see?"

Sebastian could see the tension in her grip, the light reflected by the fireplace that shone in her brilliant amber eyes. She had been dying to share this news; and if he knew her at all, Raegan was nearly bursting to deliver it herself before Diana could answer.

But it appeared her curiosity had won out over her flair for the dramatics at the present moment.

Diana beamed when she met Raegan’s imploring stare. Her voice had lowered, as if sharing an important secret.

"Last week, I dreamt of a little girl. She had the most beautiful auburn hair. Plus these adorable freckles and big, brown eyes. She was playing outside your house with a boy who looked exactly like Samuel, if he were ten years older."

Sebastian and Raegan both sported round, awestruck eyes that flickered to each other before they returned to Diana.

"Wait, I'm having a girl?" Raegan squealed, getting miles ahead of herself while Sebastian put the pieces of the puzzle together in her head.

"It's a girl?!" He gaped at the same moment.

Now, his other two friends were forgotten; his gaze solely on his exuberant wife, tears brimming despite himself.

A girl. It seemed all too perfect. A daughter and a son. Just like him and Anne, and Raegan and her brother Ronan.

"Oh...sur...prise?" Diana smiled sheepishly. "So, are you going to say it, or not?"

"It seems pointless now, since you’ve stolen my spotlight," Raegan raised her brow playfully in the beautiful Seer's direction. "But yes...I'm pregnant!"

Ominis's face broke into a huge smile, its brilliance so rare the honor was rarely bestowed upon anyone , save for the three people seated at the table now.

"Congratulations, Raegan. And you, Sebastian."

Diana began to gush as she hopped up from her seat, throwing her arms around her best friend once more. "This is amazing! How far along are you? Do you have any names picked out yet? How's your morning sickness? Mine was positively awful with both of the girls, I couldn't-"

Ominis chuckled affectionately at her elation. Gently, he placed a guiding hand on her arm to bring her back down to Earth - which was usually her least favorite place to be. "Darling, you're doing it again. Let her breathe for a moment."

To her credit, Diana looked positively pink as she relented and settled back down in her chair without losing her grin.

"Sorry, Rae. I'm just...so happy for you two."

"To answer your questions as my poor wife gathers herself, Di," Sebastian echoed Ominis's affectionate sound with his fingers intertwining through Raegan's. "She's seven weeks along, which is why we weren't sure about telling you just yet. But i suppose now is as good a time as any. And, for names, we were thinking-"

"Kassady Anne." Raegan jumped in for him, squeezing his hand as if she could pour all the love she had into that one gesture.

Diana almost teared up at this revelation, as Ominis let out an uncharacteristic, "aww". The namesakes of Raegan's late mother and Sebastian's only sister. It hadn't been a very difficult decision to come to. Though Sebastian had tried to insist on Anne as the first name in their hypothetical discussions.

"Fair warning," Ominis broke in, a knowing grin stretching his pale face. "Your second child will be your undoing. Little menace; our Gwen."

"Hey, I'm a second child." Raegan retorted, though her offense was clearly falsified. Nothing could break through the bubble of pure joy that seemed to radiate from her like the rays of the sun.

"I think you're proving his point, my love." Sebastian smirked. He barely dodged the well-aimed elbow to his side with a soft sound of indignation.

Ominis raised his glass once more after happily listening to the familiar sounds of his friends' excited chatter. "To Helen, Gwen, Sam, and Kassady-may they leave their own remarkable legacy on the world under our expert guidance."

The four of them all laughed, the sound like a chorus of church bells signifying the end of a long, fulfilling day. Three glasses of wine and one filled with water were raised in celebration, connecting the circle of lifelong friends with a resounding clink.

It had been over ten years since they'd all first sat in this pub together. Back then, the topics of conversation had centered around the goblin rebellion, Professor Black's latest warpath, and the homework that had led to countless sleepless nights.

In a way, things hadn't changed all that much. Except the rebellions now came in the form of arrests made by Raegan at the Auror's office or the tantrums of Ominis and Diana's three year old daughter. War was still in the backs of their minds, but for the most part their arms had been laid down in favor of peace.

And the sleepless nights, well...

Sebastian's mind again wandered back to the blissful visit of his youth. How he'd been unsatisfied with his feet on the ground, longing to soar above the rest.

Now, he got to feel like that every day of his life. No broom required.

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #harry potter #hogwarts legacy mc #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow x f!mc #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x oc #ominis gaunt x oc #ominis gaunt x mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hides after posting cuz it’s my first writing on tumblr

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