Tumgik
#shoutouts to that person for the idea for this one - thank you
a2zillustration · 28 days
Text
Tumblr media
The final day
| First | | Previous | | Next |
[[ All Croissant Adventures (chronological, desktop) ]]
[[ All Croissant Adventures (app) ]]
302 notes · View notes
faunina · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
happy TWO YEAR anniversary to everyone who attended the destiel wedding!
and happy valentines day to the rest of you guys <3 click the image for a surprise!
if you’ve ever seen that one post (i’ll link it in the replies) about the parallels between the rodeo scene in 12x11 and the movie “urban cowboy” and it entirely broke your brain, then this post is for you. and also i’m kissing you on the mouth
[ID. Digital art of Dean Winchester done in black and white. He’s is laid back on top of an electric bull. One hand rests on his hip while the other hovers in mid-air, fingers slightly curled, and he seems to be looking at it. When clicked, the transparency shows Castiel standing behind him. Castiel is holding Dean’s hand to his lips, while his other hand supports the back of Dean’s head. Castiel has a visible halo and wings that he has curled protectively around Dean. End ID.]
669 notes · View notes
happi-tree · 8 months
Text
are we out (of the woods yet)
You look down.
Well, this explains the pain, you think, eyes darting over a body that you inhabit but do not recognize in the slightest, in colors that you can scarcely remember seeing.
Father is going to kill me. Then, Where am I?
Or: Henry Oak, and being destined for two worlds and when you've only ever walked in one.
ao3
Here’s my fic for day 3: werewolves. Like day 1, this is part of a supernatural au that @kaseyskat and @llumimoon masterminded alongside me, although this one takes place chronologically before day 1's. Hope you like it!
Life is good for you. Great, even! At least, that’s what Father wants you to believe. 
Below your feet, the leaves crunch in shades of silver and gold, compounded into tiny bits that fly up around you as you sprint through the dense forest, and life is… as good as it can get, for the time being.
The sky is becoming clearer by the day, more and more pieces of azure heaven made visible by the ever-growing gaps in the canopy, carrying with it relief and distress in equal measure.
The sun lances to alight on pale golden fur, warming you through, unfettered by the leaves as you bound from shadow to shadow, light to light. At the same time, you feel the autumn’s chill on the breeze; though it is not yet cold enough for the grass to don their frost-coats at the gray-gold-blue dawn (scarcely ever is, these past few years), there is a weariness in your bones that belies the winter ahead, aching in joints that have not shifted right in quite some time.
It tugs at the back of your mind, the turn of the seasons, the shifting of moons, the shedding of leaves that regrow with the promise of spring. But there isn’t much you can do about it - not without it getting back to Father in some way or another (it always does, and you have long since learned that this corner of the wood has eyes beyond those of the white birches), and that is the last thing you want - so you growl under her breath, clench your jaw, and run harder, as if the ache is just a muscle you can stretch simply by outrunning it all. 
You bank around the trunk of an old, gnarled dogwood and think of winter. They’ll need food stocked up at the Commune, soon. 
(Commune, a name that Father has given your number, because Pack is too much too animalistic, too barbaric, too laughably simple for what you are. For your purpose. For your community.)
(You would personally like to tell Father where he can shove his community.)
(Well, most of it.)
The sun will be setting soon, you know, and as you bask in golden hour you dread the encroaching indigo-tinge of twilight that will bring you to Father’s side, ever the obedient daughter. There is not much you can do, though, except to attempt at grasping ephemeral joy in your hungry jowls, to crush the dead growth underfoot until you are expected back within the heart of Commune territory. 
<Hen!> a familiar mind-voice calls out to you. <Hey, Hen, over here!>
Well. You suppose that maybe there is something else you can do.
The careless footfalls of your partner approach from behind, and you whirl around.
<Goose,> You sigh, half-exasperated, half-fond. <What in the moon’s name are you doing over here?>
<Could ask you the same question, Hen Ry’,> he chuffs, trotting over to brush against your flank. 
<Plus, you always head over to this part of the outskirts when you’re all moody,> he notes, gesturing with his muzzle at your surroundings.
The cliff-wall before you is a massive, towering thing, all craggy rock and silvery moss. You could spend hours following the striations in the stone, nosing at the peaks and valleys, following them to the edge of Father’s influence. You have spent hours doing just that, following the winding currents within the rock, stripes of light and dark that squirm organically like the veins of some giant, petrified creature. 
The trees thin out, here, and you glance sidelong at Goose.
<I’m not “all moody”,> You argue rather pointlessly, staring at the ribbons of light-dark in the stone before you.
<Please, babe, you’re always moody. I can smell it from miles away.>
Goose Sy’ is a gangly, wiry thing, with dark fur that looks lit from within in the dappled sunlight. He hunches lazily now, but there is strength and power and quickness beneath his pelt.
<What’s on your mind?> He asks, and you let him touch his nose to your cheek, an affectionate gesture that is a rarer and rarer treasure, these days. <Is the old man on your ass again?>
<When isn’t he?> You respond simply, growling a bit as you kick up more debris.
You sigh. <He keeps asking if I’ve thought about a mate,> you confess, and you scent his agitation and the slightest bit of worry as he turns his golden eyes on yours.
<He’s not, like, suspicious or anything?> Goose asks.
<Moons, no, thank goodness,> You respond, seeing him untense before you. <Could you imagine?>
<I could, actually,> Goose says, his laughter resounding in your brain. <I’d love to see the look on his face when he realizes his perfect paragon pup has been fraternizing with a mangy commoner. You know, before he kills me.>
You nuzzle against his side, let his scent wash over you. You’ll have to roll around in muck and mire for quite awhile to erase it, but as you bury your face into his ruff, you think it’s worth it.
There’s an ache in your heart that matches the ache in your unshifted bones, and you often wonder which came first.
<Killing is against his own rules, and my Father surely wouldn’t debase himself to such levels. It is beneath our glorious, enlightened kind,> You sniff mockingly. 
<I dunno, Hen, I think I just might send him over the edge.> He bumps his side to yours, snorting.
Father… has been getting very insistent about settling you down. Perhaps a part of you always knew that pups were the only things he judged you as being good enough for, but your stomach turns at the very principle. You feel trapped, miserable here in his territory, heir to his kingdom of oak and earth. To bring more of yourself into the world, to force them to endure as you have…
You scent a chill on the breeze, and it ruffles your fur, causing a shiver to run down your spine. The ache intensifies, and you can practically feel the creaking of your bones beneath the sinew.
You hear yourself whine before you can stop it, and Goose presses closer to your side.
<Have you thought about Changing?> He asks, mind-voice lowered to the slightest of whispers.
You balk. <Are you insane? Father would actually kill me. Just because you can get away with it doesn’t mean I could just - >
<I know, I know,> Goose says, trying on a soothing tone like an ill-fitting coat. <It’s just that - > he snarls, low and angry, and you flinch.
<Sorry,> He cuts himself off. <But you’re hurting, and it’s his fault. Him and his stupid fucking rules.>
It’s not the sun against your fur that makes you feel warmed through, now.
<I hate him,> Goose tells you.
<I know,> You reply, instead of the me, too that lies just below your speech-thoughts. 
<Does it hurt?> You ask him. <The Change, I mean.>
<A little,> He answers. <Well, a lot, at the beginning. But then, the pain goes away a little, I guess. Shrinks. You could try it, you know. I’d take care of you.>
<Absolutely not,> You say. <My Father would have both of our heads, and you know it.>
Your heart says something different, as it always has. You ponder for the briefest moment the concept of running away from it all, of a full-moon sunrise where you awaken in a body that is still yours but also not, side by side with him. You imagine the shift-ache unfurling into a new shape before shrinking dormant below your reformed skin.
You wonder if he would drag you to the treeline outside the nearest town, dress you in human things until you could masquerade among them. If he would teach you how to walk on two legs. 
You wonder what he would look like. Instead of brushing against your side, you wonder if he would hold your hand.
Wondering is a pointless thing, though, Father says, and running is cowardice.
Staying feels even moreso, but you know nothing else.
<Well, if you change your mind and wanna stick it to the old mutt, you know where to find me,> Goose’s voice echoes softly between your pointed ears, breaking you from your thoughts.
<Thank you,> You respond, trying to wrangle your mind-voice into something that sounds less morose and forlorn. You fail, judging by the way Goose presses his muzzle against yours. 
You wish you could go, just pick up and leave, but there are things that keep you. Mother, for one, though she grows more and more distant by the day, ever colder, like the Autumn she is named for, as Father sinks his claws into you both, bleeding you of your heart and your strength and your freedoms until nothing is left but exhaustion and ache and apathy.
Mother belonged to another Pack, once, you know, even though she has never spoken of it. A real Pack, in name and in function. She has known what it feels like to move between forms, between worlds, transient like the phases of the moon.
You would’ve liked a life like hers, a name like hers, one that feels equal parts human and beast.
Instead, you were named in Commune tradition. The first moons of your life you went nameless, in order for your parents (your Father, mostly) to judge what name would best suit you.
You think of Father’s name: Bear, a towering, massive presence compressed into lupine form that looms over you even when he is not there. Strong, masculine, predatory.
Goose was named this way, too, and the name suits him well - your partner is flighty, a free spirit, but brash and loud and quick to bite and clamor at whatever displeases him.
Even your childhood tormentor, Horse, suits his name. Proud and haughty and ornery and loud in his own right, skittish beneath Father and Mother’s glares. 
You do not have to wonder why Father chose Hen for yourself. You are a livestock, a thing to be kept in a wooden cage, with clipped wings incapable of flight, legs unsuited for traveling too far from his reach. Your children and your children’s children will feed the gaping maw of your captor, and there is nothing you can do about it. 
Your name chafes at you, scratches at you like brambles upon your hide. Meek and feminine and prey-animal and all the things you are but wish not to be.
<Sun’ll be down soon,> Goose’s mind-voice resounds in your brain, and you startle, cocking your head to dislodge your useless spiraling.
You look around, noting the yellowish light stretching the tree-shadows longer and longer across the ground. 
<You’re right,> You agree.
<Lost you for a minute, there,> He says.
Goose doesn’t press for answers, but the flicking of his ears gives away his concern.
<Just thinking,> You respond, glancing at the deepening blues on the horizon.
<You were thinking pretty loudly,> Goose remarks with a light press against your side. <You gotta get back, yeah?>
<Wish I didn’t have to,> You grumble, already turning to the depths of Commune territory, pawing forward even as you think it.
<Offer’s always open,> Goose replies. <Full moon’s only a week away.>
The pain within you seems to increase at the reminder.
<I know. Thanks. Don’t forget to get rid of the scent.>
<I know!> Goose exclaims as your paths begin to diverge - his, to his home on the far reaches, yours, to whatever Father has awaiting you tonight. <Thanks. See you soon?>
<Soon,> You agree, and hope you can make good on that promise.
“Hello?”
The first thing you register as you awaken is that your body hurts. 
Bone-deep, marrow-deep, cell-deep, all over. It feels like your limbs have scrambled themselves, ground themselves to dust, and then attempted to piece themselves back together from the rubble. It is as if every muscle fiber within you has been stretched past breaking point, as if every nerve ending fell prey to one thousand claws, one thousand fangs. 
Your very soul yowls in pain, and it is only because your teeth feel so wrong and foreign in your own jaw, because your vocal cords scrubbed raw, that you do not vocalize it beyond a shaking rasp. 
The second thing you register is a presence right in front of you. 
You open your eyes, and the third thing you register is dazzling, dizzying, scintillating color. 
Your hands (hands?) scrabble at the rough earth in a vain attempt to ground yourself as you look around half-dazed and hurting, and the soft, uncalloused flesh of your palms smarts and stings against jagged bits of debris.
You look down.
Well, this explains the pain, you think, eyes darting over a body that you inhabit but do not recognize in the slightest, in colors that you can scarcely remember seeing.
Father is going to kill me. Then, Where am I?
You don’t recognize this part of the woods - the scents of the Commune are all but nonexistent, and the area around you is well-trod, devoid of grass, human odors lingering and overlapping.
A human hiking trail?
You blink rapidly, taking in the fuzzy dawn light and its myriad of hues.
Mother had taught you about colors, once, when you were a very young pup and the world was still bright with more than shades of yellow and cerulean and she was not yet as poisoned by oppressive bear-weight of cynicism. 
She had told you their names, even, though you struggle to remember them. 
You test them out, now, forming their mouth-shapes with a slow clacking of newly-blunted teeth. 
Green, the color of moss and grasses and foliage at the height of solstice. 
Orange and her deeper sister red, the colors of the fallen leaves underfoot, the colors of the sky as evening starts its slow descent toward dusk. 
The coveralls that the human woman before you wears are purple, you think, a flower-color, a dusk-color, a dawn-color. A spring-color, a beginning-color. 
“H-ello,” you attempt, your voice creaking and throat constricting at the novelty of speaking aloud. 
“Hello, again,” the woman responds, slowly and frowning, but… not unkindly, you think.
You inhale, and her scent is tinged with something sparkling and warm and cold all at once. Magic-smell, you realize. There is worry there, as well - not for her own safety, but for yours. 
There is not even the tracest amount of falsehood to her - her demeanor, her expression (though, that, admittedly, is mostly guesswork), her scent. 
It’s a novel concept. 
You cannot remember that last time anyone had had honest intentions with you (apart from Mother and maybe Goose), let alone went as far to show genuine concern over you. 
It takes you aback, strikes you nearly as harshly as… whatever it was that has left you feeling so crippled. 
“My name is Mercedes,” the woman says, gently, softly, as if speaking to a wounded prey animal. 
The comparison is… not without merit. 
“What can I call you?” She asks. 
Smart, this woman is. Or incredibly stupid. To lend her own name like that knowing full well the risks is either an intense show of trust and compassion, or…
There is a glint in her eye, you notice, and the magic-scent sharpens. 
Well… best to repay a kindness with a kindness. 
“Hen,” you croak, trying to get the shape of your name to form on your clumsy, human tongue. “Ry’Oak.”
“Well, Henry,” the woman (Mercedes!) says, and you splutter at the way that she slurs the first two syllables together rather than the last. 
“Are you okay?”
Moons above, no, you are not. 
Your body hurts like it never has before, and your eyes sear with a kaleidoscope of hues you haven’t seen since you were a young pup, and the way this witch has butchered your name might be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard. 
Henry, you mouth to yourself, running it together. It sounds rather plain, achingly human. Father would hate it. 
You quite like it. 
“I think… I will be,” you tell Mercedes. 
“Good,” she says, extending a hand. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up.”
20 notes · View notes
urlocallesbiab · 2 years
Text
it is the devil's trap to spend more time than is necessarily wise on analysing character motivations, proposing various theoritical models of their inner worlds & considering which directions the plot could go in post-canon and which themes it could develop, and i have totally fucking fallen for it. now, having spent too much time on both the babygirlification of hugo friedkin and tinkering with s3 possibilities and headcanons, i am lost as how to being explaining to others the occult knowledge of hugo friedkin/michael assistent being fated lovers and literally perfect for each other, or mona wilder & farah black being best friends forever and impeccable foils to each other. i have dug for myself the rabbit hole/grave of obscure headcanons and rareships, and now must lie in it.
16 notes · View notes
val-of-the-north · 1 year
Note
Hey, happy New Year, bestie! I swear you are the only one who is able to follow my insane ramblings - life or politics or philosophy or lore - and not only never get tired, but always grow even MORE excited! You've been nothing but understanding and encouraging for me and you are automatically the best friend for every weirdo in the world. You are so warm and self-sufficient and open-minded, I hope that you will keep the traits that make you so unique and eccentric ( /pos), and that they can be your strength. Thank you for your time and for being incredibly funny and for being the backbone of my creative approach, for your supercomputer memory and for being unphased by anything this world does to people. I doublt I'd be anywhere nearly good in life if it wasn't for you to start chatting with me on Deviantart back in my Kirby days. Thank you for everything, and I hope you find even more friends, because you have the best effect on people and will quickly become the best person they knew.
Man, that is veeeeeeeery freaking heart-warming, I really needed something like this. Thank you so so much, bestie <3
I am glad I was able to make such a strong impact and I'll strive to keep up the good work. It goes without saying that your presence in my life is just as important ahah. I am genuinely not sure what I'd even be doing rn without you getting hundreds of engaging ideas every time. If anything, things would probably be much more boring for me lmao that's for sure.
Knowing you has been a great experience to get out of my shell. I'll keep on improving on that front but I can't stress enough how important your advice and even your support has been, so thank you, and thank you very much...
What I am trying to say is... Happy New Year bud, you mean a lot to me and many others! Keep up the swagger and cool-as-fuck art! And the humor, I love your humor!!!
4 notes · View notes
theyluvkarolina · 2 months
Text
𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐒𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐓
Tumblr media Tumblr media
· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑ ` ` she’s barbie and he’s just ken ` ` ⊹ ‧₊˚
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ୨୧ lando is a megafan of Y/N. but his status all changes when a accidental post gains popularity!
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ୨୧ lando norris x IceSkater!Fem!Reader
𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌 ��୧ one of the posts include Anna Shcherbakova (yes ik she isn’t team USA but go with it)
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ୨୧ none that i can think of 🙃 cursing?? ofc the photos aren’t accurate in the timeline of actual events but just go with it 😭
𝐀/𝐍 ୨୧ this may be shorter because my lack of idea for my own idea but i hope you all still enjoy! 🫠
Tumblr media
y/n_skates ✔︎
Tumblr media
liked by, landonorris, isabeau.lev, ilia_quadg0d_malinin and others
y/n_skates back in the rink!! ⛸️
1,298 comments
isabeau.lev ✔︎ so happy to have you back 🥹
→ y/n_skates ✔︎ AHHH I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU AGAIN 🫶🫶
username1 i already know that she is going to eat this up 👩‍🍳
username2 our lutz queen is back 🥹🥹
username3 girl came back from a injury and is ready to serve cunt
→ username4 with a CAPITAL c
username6 you guys think she’ll be able to skate again after her injury??
→ username7 only time will tell 🤷
username8 most overrated and overscored skater next to ilia and trusova 😂
→ lxtzqueensolos listen here you untalented piece of shit. do you really think you can out do not only those athletes but y/n??? our modern day lutz queen?? i think you not only need your eyes checked but a whole psychological examination for these shit opinions coming of your your arsehole. “b-but but her axels!” AND? can you do better than her? can you be in the olympics like her? keep your fucking mouth shut you fucking wanker. → username9 HELLO?? → username10 everyday i try to stay loyal like how this fan is loyal to y/n 😭😭 → username11 who even is this person 💀 → lxtzqueensolos why do you want to know 🤨🤨
Twitter
Tumblr media
INSTAGRAM
y/n_skates ✔︎ posted a story 6 minutes ago!
Tumblr media
lxtzqueen replied to your story!
lxtzqueensolos because you are literally the most amazing skater ever and that you will prove everyone wrong??
y/n_skates ✔︎
Tumblr media
liked by, landonorris, anna_shcherbakova, olympics and others
y/n_skates much needed after a hard day of work 😴 ☕️
2,341 comments
username12 y/n is such a cutie patootie
→ lxtzqueensolos i heavily agree. → y/n_skates ✔︎ ..stop i’m blushing 🥹
username13 girl got injured and is training her way back into team usa for the olympics
→ lxtzqueensolos you bet your ass she is. → y/n_skates ✔︎ you all are talking about the olympics but i’m just trying to accomplish montreal 😭
username14 that hot chocolate is so 🤤🤤
username15 any show recs??
→ y/n_skates ✔︎ def f1 drive to survive! binged it when recovering from my injury and now i’m turning into a hardcore f1 fan 🫣 → username16 fav team? → y/n_skates ✔︎ mclaren! fell in love with the team and their drivers in a instant 😊 → lxtzqueensolos oh?
y/n_skates ✔︎ posted a story 13 minutes ago!
Tumblr media
TWITTER
Tumblr media Tumblr media
INSTAGRAM
y/n_skates ✔︎
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by, landonorris, lxtzqueensolos, atrusova and others
y/n_skates i’m more than overjoyed with my results this week, especially with securing 3rd. thank you everyone for all you support and encouragement ever since i got back from my injury. 🩷
2,782 comments
y/n_skates ✔︎ i would also like to give a formal shoutout to @ lxtzqueen for their constant support :)
→ username17 IT FINALLY HAPPENED → username18 we can thank @ lxtzqueensolos for their hardwork and dedication 🫡 🫡 → username19 the day finally arrived 😭😭 → username20 passing away rn no one talk to me → lxtzqueensolos i can rest easy now.
TWITTER
Tumblr media
INSTAGRAM
landonorris ✔︎
Tumblr media
liked by, y/n_skates, carlosainz55, maxfewtrell and others
landonorris she’s an olympic ice skater, and i’m just a guy that drives fast bumper cars.
tagged ; y/n_skates
4,281 comments
carlosainz55 ✔︎ definitely some explaining 😉
username21 CHAT IS THIS REAL?? WHAT IS HAPPENING
→ landonorris ✔︎ as real as it can be 😍
oscarpiastri ✔︎ be honest; how many times did he fall?
→ y/n_skates ✔︎ more than i can keep count 😅😅 → landonorris ✔︎ i thought we agreed to not discuss that 🤨 → y/n_skates ✔︎ …whoops? → oscarpiastri ✔︎ 😶 😶
username22 HELP THE SNOWBALL 😭
→ y/n_skates ✔︎ i can assure you that he is perfectly well 🙏 → landonorris ✔︎ SHE’S LYING → mclaren ✔︎ 🤨🤨 → y/n_skates ✔︎ pls don’t ban me from the garage lando is being dramatic
y/n_skates ✔︎
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by, landonorris, _kaganovskay_14, maxim_nekrasov_ and others
y/n_skates ✔︎ he’s a formula one driver, i’m just a girl that dances on ice.
tagged ; landonorris
3,612 comments
username23 THE MATCHING CAPTIONS 🥹
username24 i love the fact he took her karting when she took him ice skating 😭
username25 new wag??
→ username26 i think it’s more of lando being the bf of a olympic athlete than y/n being the gf of a f1 driver 😭 → username27 DUMP THE WAG TAG 🗣️ ‼️
landonorris ✔︎ my gf ❤️
→ y/n_skates ✔︎ my pookie ❤️ → landonorris ✔︎ sugar-booger ❤️ → y/n_skates ✔︎ snuggluffagus ❤️ → maxfewtrell ✔︎ stop being so cringe rn i already had to deal with lando fangirling i can’t do this now too. 😞 → landonorris ✔︎ seems like someone doesn't know sarcasm.
y/n_skates ✔︎ posted a story 15 minutes ago!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
multiple people replied to your story!
username27 it was all too much for little lando norris
lilyzniemer I think it might be a mclaren things for all the boys to be sleepy 😅😅 y/n_skates tell me about it 😭 they sleep like rocks!
y/n_skates ✔︎
📍 Japan
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by, landonorris, oscarpiastri, mclaren and others
y/n_skates picasso i like it 🖼️
tagged ; landonorris
3,421 comments
vototwins ✔︎ da vinki??
→ username28 NOT THE TWINS HERE 😭
mclaren ✔︎ artist in the making! 🧑‍🎨
oscarpiastri ✔︎ did he improve in his crafts?
→ landonorris ✔︎ uhm??? why crafts are the best thing on earth?? → carlosainz55 ✔︎ who lied to you? 😅
username29 i bet y/n will hang it up on the fridge like a proud mom
→ y/n_skates ✔︎ …how did you know?
landonorris ✔︎
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by y/n_skates, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and others
landonorris lot of support this weekend 🙃
tagged ; y/n_skates, oscarpiastri, mclaren
4,521 comments
username30 THE SECOND PHOTO
→ username31 crying sobbing and throwing up → username32 i want love like theirs → landonorris ✔︎ if you want love like this be ready for snowballs being thrown at you. → y/n_skates ✔︎ IT WAS A ONE TIME THING.
oscarpiastri ✔︎ clean race 👍
y/n_skates ✔︎ so proud 🥹
*Liked by landonorris!*
→ username33 you guys have no clue how much i love her → landonorris ✔︎ sorry to break it to you but i love her more than you ever will 🥱
mclaren ✔︎ golden boy 🏆
→ oscarpiastri ✔︎ 🤨
y/n_skates ✔︎
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by, landonorris, lilymunihe, alexalbon and others
y/n_skates first f1 race is complete! so proud @ landonorris 🧡
tagged ; landonorris
4,356 comments
lilymunihe ✔︎ cuties
username34 HELP THE LAST PHOTO
username35 it was all to much for little lando norris 2(4) years old
→ y/n_skates ✔︎ he just needs a bit of sleep → charles_leclerc ✔︎ he just needs a bit of sleep → maxverstappen1 ✔︎ he just needs a bit of sleep → danielricciardo ✔︎ he just needs a bit of sleep → oscarpiastri ✔︎ he just needs a bit of sleep → carlosainz55 ✔︎ he just needs a bit of sleep → f1 ✔︎ he just needs a bit of sleep → landonorris ✔︎ STOP THIS
landonorris ✔︎ you could have chosen ANY photo of me
→ y/n_skates ✔︎ i think this one shows how cute you are :) → oscarpiastri ✔︎ who lied to y/n about lando being cute → landonorris ✔︎ rude. → y/n_skates ✔︎ @ oscarpiastri he might look stupid but it’s okay because i love him 🫶 → landonorris ✔︎ 🤭 🤭
username36 fuck romeo and juliet i want what they have.
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
arieslost · 4 months
Text
falling for you | op81
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
oscar piastri x fem!reader
summary: you and oscar should be more than just friends, but neither of you realize it until you’re on vacation… and his girlfriend is there, too.
word count: 2,956
warnings: angsty moments
masterlist — join my tag list here!
PART TWO
shoutout to my dream journal- i got this idea from a dream i had in 2021. also disclaimer, i love lily, she’s so sweet. we’re pretending that oscar is dating someone else here ok thanks <33
© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
Tumblr media
For the first time in your life, you were regretting taking a vacation, and it was all Oscar Piastri’s fault.
Your family and the Piastris had been going on vacation together for as long as you could remember, and you’ve been best friends with Oscar for just as long. He was in the background of every defining moment of your life. He could say the same about you— best friends forever.
And then, like the idiot you are, you went and fell in love with him. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint how, or why, or when; all you knew was that you woke up on the second day of your vacation, walked into the kitchen, saw him pouring himself a bowl of cereal, and it hit you like a damn truck.
“Good morning, sweetie,” your mom says, barely noticing your slightly panicked expression as you realized that you were very much in love with your best friend.
“Morning,” you mumble back, unable to tear your eyes away from Oscar.
He notices you staring at him, your eyes as wide as saucers, and frowns. “You okay? There’s still some of this in the box, I saved it for you.”
Great. Of course he has to be so thoughtful all the time.
“Yeah, ‘m fine. Thanks, Osc.” You squeeze his arm as you pass by. He smiles at you, like he always does when you do that, and you want to die a little.
Especially when his girlfriend enters the room.
It’s the first time either of you have a significant other during your annual vacation time, and while you had aggressively lobbied against it (Oscar obviously had no clue), your parents and his parents had agreed to let her come. You were furious about it for weeks and couldn’t figure out why.
Well, now you know.
You can’t even enjoy your cereal, especially not when she kisses Oscar for everyone to see and then makes direct eye contact with you and smirks when he’s not looking. So, you decide to spend the entire day completely Oscar-less, as much as you wish you could just have him all to yourself like you always do when you’re here.
The thing is, you’ve never liked his girlfriend, obvious reasons aside. Even before Oscar started dating her, you’d never gotten along with her. It was like she had a personal vendetta against you, and always tried her hardest to be touchy with Oscar whenever she saw that you were in her line of sight. The most infuriating part is that literally no one else ever notices her behavior except you. Not even Oscar, your so-called best friend. Normally, you’d go to him to vent about something like this, because he’s always understood you in ways that no one else ever will. Now he’s the last person you can go to.
It sucks. You’re angry at your parents, his parents, and especially him for asking if he could bring her along in the first place.
You end up spending your entire morning and most of the afternoon at the beach. You don’t put on enough sunscreen because there’s no one there to make sure you use the proper amount. You hate getting sunburn, but you’d take that over seeing Oscar with his girlfriend. By the time you get back to the rental, everyone is off doing their own thing. Your parents are putting together a puzzle in the living room. Oscar’s parents have the door to their room shut, and you can hear the TV playing. You don’t have the courage to go looking for Oscar himself– once you see that he’s not in your shared room, you know that he’s either out or in his girlfriend’s room. Either way, you don’t want to know.
That was another thing that makes you wish this vacation never happened: Oscar had been allowed to bring his girlfriend, but the only condition was that the two of them had to sleep in separate rooms. That meant the two of you shared a room like always, but that didn’t mean he didn’t take every possible chance he could to go to hers, meaning you’re alone most of the time.
You might as well just pack up and walk home to save yourself the struggle of five more days.
It doesn’t seem like anyone is around to hear, so you let out a loud, frustrated groan as you flop back onto your bed. You look to your right, past Oscar’s bed, at the flowy curtains hanging in front of the doors that lead to the deck outside. One of the doors is ajar, and the slight breeze makes the curtains flap gently.
“You okay, sweetie?” Of course your mom heard you from all the way down the hall.
“Yeah,” you reply in a way that makes it very obvious that you’re not okay.
“Ah, I know that tone.” Your mom says, crossing the room to sit at the foot of your bed. “You need a boyfriend. You wouldn’t be this mopey if you had someone here with you, too.”
Like Oscar does. “You’re telling me,” you scoff bitterly. “I guess I’ll try a little harder for next year.”
“Well, are there any boys you’re interested in?” She asks, rubbing your leg comfortingly.
“I don’t know,” you mumble, turning your head away from her so she can’t get a perfect view of your face heating up as you think about your best friend.
She hums. “Yeah, I knew it.”
“Knew what?”
“It’s Oscar, isn’t it?”
You cover your face with your hands. “Ugh! Leave now, and we can pretend this conversation never happened.”
“Nice try.” Your mom pries your hands away and gives you a look. “I just don’t think it’s the best idea that you like Oscar. He doesn’t exactly have the most stable lifestyle.”
“He doesn’t need stability, he’s rich.” You shoot back. “I don’t even care about that, Mom. I’m not exactly interested in him because of his lifestyle.” You consider not saying it, but you’ll feel better getting it off your chest. “And his girlfriend is a bitch.”
“You’re right,” your mom says, and you can’t believe what you’re hearing. “I hate his girlfriend. I’ve always thought that you’re much better suited for him.”
“No kidding. Known him his whole life, everyone thought we were dating growing up, we’ve gone through just about everything together. I guess that simply doesn’t compare to the girl he’s known for five whole months.” You’re being snarky now, and you can’t find it in you to care. It should be you dating Oscar.
Everyone else seems to think so except him.
Your mom laughs, but in a way that you know that she agrees with you, as childish as you’re being. She continues to rub your leg, and the comforting motion has your eyes drooping. The stress of your newfound feelings and the warmth of the sun on your skin is more than enough to tire you out.
“Nap time?” She asks eventually, and you nod slowly.
“Mhmm.”
“I’ll come wake you up before dinner.” She kisses the top of your head, gets up, and then says something that has you wide awake. “Hey, Oscar. She’s sleeping.”
“Ah, okay. I’ll be quiet.” You hate the calming effect his voice has on you, even though now just looking at him has sent your heart racing.
One of them shuts the door, and shortly after you can feel the bed dipping under Oscar’s weight as he lays down next to you.
“Hey,” he whispers. “Missed you.”
I missed you more. Jerk.
“I know you’re awake,” he continues. “But you don’t have to talk to me.”
Good.
“I guess I deserve the silent treatment.”
Your resolve cracks a little, because he sounds genuinely upset. As much as you want to, you don’t open your eyes, but you do turn around to face him and move closer in the process. You can smell the faint traces of his cologne, and you have to fight a sigh of contentment. Damn him for always making you feel so safe. Besides, you’re a little cold now thanks to the air conditioning.
Your eyes nearly fly open in shock when he wastes no time in pulling you closer so you’re properly cuddled into his side and puts his arm around you. He lets out a breath, like he’s relieved, before he moves around a little and leans his head against yours.
The logical side of you is screaming to quit the sleeping facade and confront him right here and now about this rather intimate behavior, but the side of you that just discovered the strong feelings you harbor for your best friend tells you to just play along and enjoy whatever alone time you have with him. It’s not hard to pick which side to listen to.
The two of you stay this way for so long you start falling asleep again, and it only gets worse when he starts rubbing your back. It starts out very subtle; at first, his fingertips just move up and down along the fabric of your shirt. He stops for a moment, like he’s considering the outcomes of his actions, and then flattens his palm against your back and continues the up and down motion. You bury your head in his chest, mostly to hide the fact that you’re turning red but also because you just want to be closer to him. He hums a little when you do it, and you have to stop yourself from weighing the logistics of whether or not you could get away with kissing him right here and now.
You have to fight the urge to sleep, wanting to soak in every moment of his strange but welcome actions. Maybe this is all just an elaborate dream– either way, you’re not going to sleep through it.
The sound of him sighing again catches your attention, but you’re entirely brought back to reality when he starts moving.
You fully give up. You don’t want him to go, so you say his name quietly and look up at him.
He sits up a little to look back at you, and you reach up to smooth away the crease between his eyebrows with your thumb. “We’re on vacation. You’re supposed to be having fun.”
“So are you.” He points out.
Of course he’s picked up on it.
“It’s complicated.”
“Talk to me,” he encourages, shifting so he can keep you close. His little polite cat smile nearly has you spilling your guts to him about how much you wish you were the one he was kissing in front of everyone.
You press your lips together. “I… I can’t, Osc.”
You always hate his crestfallen expression, but you hate it more when you’re the cause of it.
“You can talk to me about anything, you know that right?”
“I know,” you reassure him. “Just… not this. Anything but this.”
He hums again, but not in the happy way that he did before when you were practically trying to crawl into his skin. This is more like a hum of concentration.
You have a moment of hope, thinking that maybe he’ll just let it go, but you know your best friend better than that. It doesn’t change your shock when he speaks again.
“Okay. I think I know what this is about.”
“I seriously doubt you do.” You can’t help but laugh a little. How could he possibly know about something that you yourself only just discovered?
He gives you a specific look then, a look that you have always despised being on the receiving end of. It’s a look that tells you he’s expecting you to explain yourself and see if he’s right. He usually is right, which only makes it worse.
“No.” You shake your head, starting to try and find a way to get up. “No, Oscar, don’t make me say it.”
He isn’t having it though: his arm stays snug around you, and he puts one of his legs between both of yours, hooking his ankle around yours so you can’t escape.
“Oscar,” you whine. “No fair, with your stupid reflexes.”
He whines your name back in the same exact tone. “Shouldn’t try to get away from me, then.”
You let out a groan of frustration. “I’m not telling you anything.”
Someone walks out into the hallway, and the sound of the footsteps coming towards your room makes the both of you freeze. The two of you are in a rather precarious position, with your limbs tangled and Oscar practically on top of you. Not that you necessarily mind, but if anyone walked in right now, eyebrows would be raised.
Oscar seems to be thinking along the same lines as you, meeting your wide-eyed stare with his own but not making any effort to move away. It clicks in your head at that exact moment, just as it did in the morning when you walked into the kitchen.
He does know.
“How?” You whisper, too wrapped up in your disbelief to even be embarrassed.
“I know you better than anyone,” he whispers back, head whipping towards the closed door when you hear a creak, like someone’s weight is shifting on the floor.
The footsteps recede. You both let out a breath, turning to face each other again. You’re close. Too close. Close enough that you could count his eyelashes if you wanted to.
You remember the last time you were this close to him— you were both 14, playing hide and seek at midnight at a friend’s birthday party. He’d accidentally chosen the same hiding place as you, a desk with a rolling chair in front of it, and you’d been forced to squish together underneath the desk in order to conceal yourselves well enough. You were mad that he chose the same spot as you because it raised the likelihood of being found, and he’d just giggled at you every time you glared at him. You remember how much you loved his giggle, and how you’d wondered what it would be like to kiss his smile.
Well. You really have been in love with him this whole time.
You want nothing more than to crawl under the bed and stay there for the rest of the vacation so you don’t have to look him in the eye. You never want to speak to him again. You want to tell him everything. You want to push him away. You want to hold him closer.
“Tell me I didn’t ruin our friendship.” Is all you can think to say, and Oscar reacts immediately, brushing your hair out of your face and hugging you tightly.
“Honey, you could never ruin this.” He presses his nose into your hair, brushes his lips against your head. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re not the one who should be sorry,” you grumble into his chest.
He doesn’t answer, instead choosing to alternate between playing with the ends of your hair and drawing shapes on your shoulder with his fingers. He’s always been affectionate with you, but this is a whole new level, and your overthinking has you worried that you’ll lose it entirely as soon as the two of you have to leave this room and face the reality of the situation. You close your eyes, trying your hardest to soak up every little detail of this moment in the event that you never get another like it.
You know Oscar thinks you’re asleep when, much to your dismay (and maybe his, too), he gets up and gently lays you back against your pillow.
“I really shouldn’t be doing this,” you hear him say, and then you feel his lips press firmly against your temple, his hand leaving the most featherlight touch on your cheek. “I’m sorry, baby.”
The soft material of a blanket covers your body, and the door opens and shuts. Your tears waste no time in soaking into the pillowcase.
You’re regretting this vacation, but it isn’t Oscar’s fault.
He’s not the one who fell in love with the one person he can’t have.
Things change, but not at all in the way you expect. Oscar still throws an arm around you for every picture and hoists you onto his back without hesitation for the obligatory piggyback photo that has been a vacation tradition since forever. His girlfriend still looks at you like you’re the pebble she can’t get out of her shoe, but for every dirty look and intentional display of affection, Oscar is there to make up for it. He goes to the beach with you and makes sure that you apply enough sunscreen, he goes to the amusement park with you even though he hates most of the rides, he takes you to breakfast at the risk of his girlfriend throwing a fit when you get back. She does, but he doesn’t care. He does it every year, and he tells you that he’d be damned if he didn’t keep up with it.
Maybe he pities you. It doesn’t matter. You can live with never even having a chance with the boy you think you’ve always wanted something more with, so long as you can continue to call him your best friend.
He leaves for his next race on the last day of vacation, and his girlfriend goes with him. You support him from home. He calls you every single day.
Oscar has never been able to go more than 24 hours without hearing your voice. He’s never been able to fully express just how much he needs you, and now he has to face the obstacle of breaking up with his girlfriend before he can even try.
Tumblr media
note: this fic was low key my personal everest and i changed the ending at the last second because i hate angst. if anyone is interested in a part two, let me know because i’d be happy to write it at some point!
requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!
reblogs are always appreciated <33
beautiful dividers by @/saradika !
tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @littlemiss-arabella @notturlover @verstappensrealwife @oliveisunstable @hauntedphotographybookstaco @maddie-bell @hood-jabi @jupiter-je-taime @uzisplanet @akiraquote @average-f1-enjoyer @xo-mya1 @beth-712 @bingewatche @alex15marie @ana2delusional @tomhollandfics @cixrosie @simpluvrs @meko-mt
2K notes · View notes
formulafics · 7 months
Text
★ BABY, JUST SAY YES | LS2
Scenario: its no secret that logan sargent isn’t single, but one thing that no one can quite figure out - not even his co workers - is who the mystery girl is. logan doesn’t reveal who until she’s no longer his girlfriend, but his wife. (requested)
Pairing: logan sargeant x fem!popstar!reader
A/N: it’s taken me 4 days of writers block to get this one figured out, but she is finally here! i hope everyone enjoys! <3
Tumblr media
logansargeant
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by alex_albon, oscarpiastri, and 233,567 others
logansargeant the flight is always worth it to be with her
view all 2,345 comments
sargeantformula another day, another soft launch from logan 😔 when does the pain end?
logansgirl HE LOOKS SO GOOD
formulogan so either logan plays guitar or his gf plays guitar 🧐
⤷ norizzlando i thought that i could figure out something by looking at the music sheets but it’s beatles songs, and i doubt logan is dating paul mccartney
⤷ alexalbonooo23 STOP IT FHIS COMMENT IS KILLING ME 😭 “i doubt logan is dating paul mccartney”
Tumblr media
logansargeant
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by oscarpiastri, alex_albon, maxverstappen1, and 356,789 others
logansargeant summer dump
view all 3,457 comments
alex_albon getting a little to close to using @/georgerussels tactics
rizzciardo logan pls just tell us who it is 😔 do it for your fans
⤷ norrisnation DO IT FOR AMERICA
formulaobssesed why is logan kinda…
⤷ sargeantformula YOURE JUST LEARNING THIS? HES BEEN FINE
sargeantnation THE FIRST PICTURE HELLO YOU LOOK SO GOOD
ls2sargeant okay, but WHO is in the second picture? 😭
Tumblr media
logansargeant
in love
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by alex_albon, lilymhe, oscarpiastri, and 124,678 others
logansargeant
view all 2,467 comments
formulanorris the location being “in love” is sickening
⤷ piastrizz no literally i want want what him and his gf have
williamillion ITS NOT FUNNY ANYMORE LOGAN
godblessls2 boy if you don’t just drop her @ rn
loscargirlie logan you wanna drop her @ sooooo bad rn
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
logansargeant and ynlnsargeant
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by alex_albon, oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 467,892 others
logansargeant so glad my baby said yes. happy one year, my beautiful girl.
view all 5,678 comments
ynsworld LOGAN IN RHE MIDDLE OF YNA FUCK I G CONCERT???
oscarpiastri happy anniversary ❤️
⤷ rizzciardo loscar crumbs 🥹 i love them
alex_albon happy anniversary! love you guys.
formulasargeant LOGAN WHAT????
piastrizz LOGAN HUNTER SARGEANT I SWEAR TO GOD
ynfannacc the caption. not okay, young man.
⤷ godblessls2 LMAOO THIS COMMENT IS SO FUNNY FOR NO REASON
rizzciardo the mesh of logan and yn fans in the comments is so funny to me 😭
loscargirlie I KNOW I BEGGED YOU MULTIPLE TIMES TO DROP THE @ BUT COME ON LOGAN
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
ynlnsargeant
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by logansargeant, lewishamilton, alex_albon, landonorris, and 789,367 others
ynlnsargeant what a night. thank you to everyone who came out tonight, i am so grateful for your support. on a side note, happy anniversary to my love, @/logansargeant. one year down, forever to go. 🫶🏻
view all 6,789 comments
logansargeant i love you so much baby.
⤷ ynlnsargeant i love you more. thanks for coming out tonight ❤️
ynsguitar the end of an era - she changed her username
⤷ ynloverforlife ITS SO CUTE 😭 she and logan are actually so cute together i can’t even be sad
ynsworld simultaneously extremely happy for you and feeling like my heart has been ripped out. ilysm </3
ynsnumberone i cannot believe i witnessed this kiss in real time
⤷ formulasargeant i have no idea how you survived because me personally? that would be the end
danielricciardo NO WAY. happy anniversary!
⤷ rizzciardo DANIEL WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE LMAO
⤷ sargeantformula apparently only oscar, lando, and alex knew about their relationship. oscar was the only one who went to the wedding 💔 (not to mention daniel has always liked yn’s music)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
all feedback is appreciated! thank you for reading <3 - daelynn
general taglist | @renarots (special shoutout to her for always fueling the brainrot for these fics) @jsjcue @treehouse-mouse @harrysdimple05 @illicitverstappen @lovstappen @minkyungseokie
2K notes · View notes
sebscore · 11 months
Note
Omg LL idea!!! Him bringing her up on the podium with him in his karting days🤭 He is in like the teenage “inchident” years, and he wins a race that LL attended with the family, and he beckons her over and onto it with him in her cute little summer dress, adorable!!
A DAY AT THE RACES
Tumblr media
pairing: leclerc family x leclerc!reader (+ gasly fam cameo)
warnings: toddler tantrum. crying. 
author's note: toddler leclerc is back!! huge shoutout to @champomiel for making me obsessed with a baby little leclerc :))) and also thank you to each person who send in a request regarding baby leclerc!! 
masterlist 
• • • • • • •
''When Charles drives by, you have to yell his name very loudly, okay?'' Pascale told the toddler in Lorenzo's arms, smiling as she saw her daughter respond enthusiastically. 
Her older brother nodded to their mother's words. ''Yeah, you have to scream ''Go Charles!'' so he can hear you.'' He added. 
The young girl nodded to their words, all her attention back on the track in front of them. It was her first time at Charles' karting race- or at least the first time she was consciously experiencing it. 
Y/N was still only a toddler so everything is still quite sensitive to her, like the loud sounds of the kart engines. Pascale had taken several ear-protective gear with her, hoping her youngest wouldn't throw a tantrum like Arthur and Charles used to do at the F1 races when they were her age. 
''There he is!'' Hervé exclaimed, grabbing his family's attention. ''Allez, Charles! Keep going! Come on, Charles!'' The man cheered his son on from behind the fences. 
The young teenagers cruise by in their karts, the place drowned in applause and noises from their family and friends as they pass the crowd. The sudden booming voices caused Y/N to get distracted and glance around her instead of screaming for her brother, who was running in first place. 
The toddler whimpered as she glanced back at the track and saw that all the small cars were gone. ''I missed Charlie.'' She sniffled, which rapidly turned into bawling. 
The Leclerc family's focus turned from Charles' P1 to the youngest's sobbing. ''What's wrong, bébé? Do your ears hurt?'' Pascale's impression was that the combination of the loud cheers and engines were too much for the little one's ears. 
Y/N frantically shook her head, making Lorenzo tighten his hold on her. ''I missed Charlie! I didn't say ''Go Charles'', Maman!'' She whined to her mother, calming Pascale's worries that her daughter wasn't in physical pain. 
''It's okay, it's okay! Don't worry about it, chérie.'' Hervé attempted to comfort her, endeared by the girl's concern for not cheering her older brother on. 
Her father's words didn't seem to have any effect on her and she kept crying her eyes out. She reached for the headphones on her head, trying to get them off her head- too much stimulation around her at the moment. 
''Wow! Be careful, you have to keep those on.'' Lorenzo gently scolded her, with Hervé stopping her and keeping the headphones on her head. 
''No! They're too heavy!'' Y/N continued whining, struggling to take them off. 
Pascale watched on, navigating on what she should do as her daughter carried on with her  adorable yet frustrating temper tantrum. ''Chérie, take her with you to the finish line.'' She instructed her husband, pointing to where the person with the chequered flag was waiting. 
Hervé nodded at her, releasing her from Lorenzo's arms. The small girl continued shedding tears, but nestled in her father's arms. ''We're gonna see Charles, okay?'' He asked her, smiling down at her as he walked away from their family members. 
Y/N timidly shook her head up and down, loudly sniffing her stuffy nose. ''Is Cha gonna be angry at me, Papa?'' 
Her father frowned at her question. ''Why would he be angry with you, bébé?'' 
''Because I didn't yell for him, and Lolo and Maman told me to yell for him when he passed us.'' In her mind, her older brother would be upset that she didn't cheer him on. 
The man chuckled, the innocence of his daughter's explanation warming his heart. ''Charles is not angry with you. He knows you're his biggest supporter! We're gonna wait for him at the finish line so you can be the first one to give him a hug.'' Her father told her. 
His assurance that her brother wasn't cross with her, making her stop crying and let out a small smile on her lips. ''Did he win?'' 
''He is currently in first place and Pierre is right behind him so we'll see when he finishes the race.'' Hervé responded to her, giving the side of her head a kiss. 
The pair arrived at the busy part of the track, somehow making it to the front of the fence so they could watch Charles take the chequered flag. ''Make sure you keep your headphones on, bébé- we don't want your ears to hurt.'' He adjusted the gear on her head. 
''Okay, Papa.'' Y/N politely answered, not having a problem with the headphones anymore. ''When does Charles stop driving?'' She asked him, not seeming to have much patience. 
''A few more laps around the track and he's done.'' They had only brought her to the side of the track towards the end of the race, her parents knowing she would otherwise be sleeping through the whole thing and be upset that she missed it. 
The sounds of the engines became slowly louder and louder, indicating the drivers were passing by again. ''He's coming again, Y/N- make sure to yell for him.'' Her father signalled to her. 
This time, the toddler only held her focus on the track, screaming her brother's name as soon as he came into her sight. Hervé and the people around them laughed at the little girl's small voice, finding it adorable as she was the only one screaming for a few seconds. 
''Go, Charles!'' Y/N and her father chorused, cheering on Charles who was still in first position. She rested her face in his neck, having grown shy by her own yelling. 
A few laps later, her brother was the first one to cross the finish line and win the race, with Pierre coming in second behind him. 
Y/N started fussing in her father's arms, wanting to go to Charles and give him a hug. Hervé chuckled at her excitement, but told her to wait until he got out of his kart, and took off his helmet. Pierre's father, Jean-Jacques, joined them, pinching the little girl's cheeks and giving Hervé a handshake. ''Good race.'' He concluded, giving them a nod. 
''A nice battle between them today.'' Hervé confirmed, satisfied with the results and the performances of the two young boys. 
The toddler tugged on his shirt. ''Papa, can I go to Charles now?'' She whined, not a fan of how long it seemed to be taking. 
The two men chuckled at her impatience. Her father glanced at his son and saw that Charles had already climbed out of his kart, and was in the process of removing the helmet off his head. 
''Charles!'' Hervé called for the young boy, waving his free arm at him. The winner of the day spotted his father and sister, his smile becoming wider at the sight of his family. 
Charles tapped Pierre's arm, pointing to his own father. The two boys made their way over still in full adrenaline from the race and their podium finishes. Once they were close enough, Hervé put his daughter down and gave her a light push towards them. 
Y/N jumped over to her brother, her arms already spread. Charles got the message and took a big extra step, embracing his sister and easily picking her up. ''Cha, I yelled for you! Did you hear me?'' She asked him, her arms firmly around him. 
''Yeah, you were very loud!'' He replied, pretending that he had heard her through all the noise even though he hadn't. 
''You were super fast! You went like zoom~'' The little girl imitated the sound of the karts, making both Charles and Pierre laugh. 
''We are supposed to go zoom~'' The French boy impersonated her. 
''Good job, boys! Nicely done, Charles!'' Hervé praised them as they made their way back to where they had been waiting. The rest of their families had also found them and gathered together. 
Charles put his sister down so he could give everyone a hug of his own. After Pascale embraced her son and gave him a congratulatory kiss on the cheek, she motioned for Y/N to come to her. ''You gave your brother a hug?'' She said to her daughter as she lifted the girl up. 
''Yes, I was the first one.'' She proudly told her mother, hugging her neck. 
Pascale grinned, relieved her husband was able to calm the girl down. ''Wow! The first one? That's great, chérie.'' 
A tap on Pascale's leg brought her attention from her daughter to her youngest son. ''Maman, can I have ice-cream now?'' Arthur asked her, a pout present on his face. 
''I want ice-cream too!'' Y/N exclaimed upon hearing her brother's question. 
The woman put her daughter down, next to Arthur. ''We're going to eat with Pierre's family after the boys get their trophies. You can get ice-cream as dessert.'' She explained to them. 
''But I want it now!'' Arthur continued. 
''You're gonna have to wait, Tutur.'' Lorenzo told his little brother, chuckling at his impatience. 
The young man noticed the Gasly family, his father and Charles moving to where the trophy ceremony would take place. He glanced at his little siblings. ''Cha is getting his trophy, come on!'' 
Arthur listened to his older brother's words and grabbed his sister's small hand, guiding her to the podium as they walked next to Pascale and Lorenzo. The mother and son duo swooned at the sight of Arthur acting like an older sibling to the young girl. 
''Why do you walk so slow, Y/N? You have to go faster.'' The boy complained, having to reduce his speed so his sister could catch up. 
Lorenzo chuckled. ''She has small legs, Tutur! Go at her pace.'' He reminded his little brother. 
''That's not my fault.'' Arthur answered, matter-of-factly. He kept walking at his pace, ignoring his sister practically running to stay next to him. 
''Thur!'' Lorenzo stopped him, grabbing his shoulders. The older one then focused on the toddler and picked her up, not wanting her to grow tired from simply walking. ''Alright, let's go.'' 
The podium ceremony wasn't something too extravagant. They called out the names of the top three and handed the winners their trophies, often with some flowers as well. 
As the families waited for the presentations to start, Charles grabbed his dad's attention. ''What is it, Cha?'' He asked his son. 
''Can I bring Y/N with me on the podium?'' 
Charles had done it countless times when Arthur was younger and he had seen many other winners bring their siblings up on the podium with them- he wanted to include his little sister somehow. 
Hervé smiled, touched by his son's sentiment. ''That's okay with me, but ask your mother to be sure.'' He knew Pascale wouldn't have a problem with it, but he didn't want to surprise his wife with Charles suddenly taking their daughter with him. 
Upon hearing his father's answer, Charles walked over to his mother. ''Maman,'' he tapped her waist, having her bow down to be on the same level as him, ''can I bring Y/N with me on the podium? Papa says it's okay.'' 
Pascale glanced at her daughter for a few seconds, checking if she still had energy left. ''Of course, but be careful, okay? She's small.'' She agreed, nodding at Hervé who was looking at them. 
''Thank you.'' Charles thanked her, skipping back to his father. 
The mother of the family approached her oldest and youngest child, gently grabbing his shoulder. ''Ma petite, Cha wants to take you on the podium with him. Isn't that fun?'' 
The youngest's mouth made an o-shape, bewildered by the news. ''Really? Wow!'' 
''Yes! So let's put you down.'' Lorenzo kneeled, letting his little sister stand on her own two feet. As soon as she was stable on the ground, she ran off to Charles. 
''Cha Cha!'' Y/N exclaimed, catching her brother's attention. ''I'm going on podium with you.'' 
''I know! Just follow me, okay? I'll help you.'' He told her, not wanting her to get distracted and do something she shouldn't do. 
''Okay!'' She gave her brother a thumbs up with a bright smile. 
It didn't take long for the various ceremonies to start, but the Leclerc Family had to wait until the end since Charles participated in the oldest age category at the competition. 
''In second place, we have Pierre Gasly of France! Well done, Pierre!'' The presenter said into the microphone, inviting the French boy onto the podium. 
The family clapped for him as he strutted over to the second step, accepting the trophy and flowers he was handed. 
''And our winner of the day is Charles Leclerc of Monaco! Congratulations, Charles!'' 
The race winner grabbed his sister's hand, and unlike Arthur, walked on her pace to the podium so she wouldn't have to run next to him. He momentarily let go of her hand as the presenter handed over his trophy and flowers. Charles gave the trophy to Y/N, being less heavy than the bouquet of flowers. 
Charles stepped onto the top step with ease, meanwhile his baby sister struggled with her small legs to even get onto the third step. 
Pierre immediately noticed. He placed his trophy and flowers on the ground, and signalled to the girl to walk over to him. He picked her up and placed her next to Charles, who thanked his friend for helping his sister out. 
The Monégasque crouched down. ''Y/N, look at Maman.'' Charles pointed at their mother, who had a big smile on her face as she held her camera. Upon seeing Pascale smile, Little Leclerc mirrored her mother's expression- proud of the trophy she was holding, despite it being her brother's. 
The rest of the family watched on fondly, the sight of the small girl swooning everyone. ''She's going to steal that trophy from his room.'' Lorenzo told Hervé, chuckling at the way his baby sibling was holding onto the plastic prize. 
''Charles will let her.'' The patriarch grinned, knowing his son would take the trophy away from her. 
After a few minutes of posing for pictures, the ceremony was done and they made their way back to their families. 
''Pierre, you are a gentleman.'' Pascale complimented the young boy, ruffling his hair. 
He shyly glanced down at the praise. ''No problem.'' Pierre brushed off, his mother pinching his reddened cheek. 
The giddy toddler jumped in Lorenzo's arms, still a strong hold on Charles's trophy. ''Look what Cha gave me, Lolo.'' She showed the prize off to her brother. 
''Wow! You have a trophy? How cool!'' Lorenzo told her, excitedly. 
''Can we get ice-cream now, please?'' Arthur whined, having everyone look at the young boy. There was an adorable, impatient tone to his voice, making both families smile at him. 
The parents all glanced at one another, nodding in silent agreement that they should start packing up, and go have dinner. 
''I'm going to get 5 scoops!'' Arthur declared. 
''I'm going to get 6 then!'' His sister one-upped him, mischief written all over her face. 
''Y/N gets 2. Arthur gets 3, and Charles and Pierre will get to choose since they got a podium together.'' Hervé stated, chuckling at his two youngest's disappointed faces. 
The little girl huffed. ''But Papa, I want 6!'' 
''You're like 6 scoops tall, how are you gonna eat all of that?'' 
Tumblr media
taglist :: @missskid @maxiel-jpg @glitterquadricorn @stillbreathin @obsessed-fan-alert @booknerd2004-blog @kageyamama-hinatatata @reblog-princess-blog @maezenin12 @gly-exe @lighttsoutlewis @topguncultleader @jaydensluv @nora_moon @erinisrightheree @7leb-kakaw @theamazingsimp @lovelyxlily @princessmiaelicia @mehrmonga @champomiel @rowansshit @mbappebby @maemaesthoughts @g4ns3y @im_mi @gracesferrari @67-angelofthelordme-67 @harrysdimple05 @ijustwantavacation @livinglifebeingme @Judgemental-Raven
@moony-mari @uhhevie @princesselle2111 @vanishingcherry @simping4marauders @ooooohmicky @gentlemonsterjennie1 @Mayake-1 @awhoreforspencerreid @cl16lvr @skepvids @jason-todd-fangirl04 @lecl3rcs @coffeewhore18 @mikauraur @crueldinasty @anvdala @jksjx @iloveyou3000morgan @aurora-maria @llmmaa @folklorelvrr @a-asterias @shamelesspotatos @demonstookmysoul @screechingtrashkid
2K notes · View notes
munson-blurbs · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14
Summary: Will's birthday party brings back some familiar faces and gives Eddie the perfect opportunity to make amends with Corroded Coffin, but an unexpected interruption might have him hurtling towards his old ways.
Warnings: some dirty talk (18+ only just in case), drinking/drunkenness (everyone is over 21), pregnancy and labor complications, mentions of past bullying
WC: 8.2k
Chapter 14/20
Divider credit to @saradika Special shoutout to @storiesbyrhi and @corroded-hellfire for helping with the fluffy sections and making this piece strong.
--
Afternoons at Hawkins Preschool are predictable: storytime on the carpet is followed by the kids’ pack-up routine, and once all belongings are shoved into their proper backpacks, they file out the door to go home. 
Predictable is good. It’s safe. And it certainly doesn’t include a fire drill half an hour before dismissal. 
Herding nine children through the bustling hallways and trying to ensure no one is left behind is overwhelming enough. Factor in the ear-splitting alarm and the surge of adrenaline pulsing through your students once they re-enter your classroom, and you’ve got the perfect recipe for chaos. 
Instead of fighting a losing battle to keep the kids calm and quiet, you’d opted to plunk them down with myriad art supplies and called it a day. 
Now, after the last student had been picked up, you and Will are left cleaning the mess they’d made. Broken crayons are scattered across the tabletops, there’s Play-Doh of various colors stuck to the floor, and gold glitter—when did you even acquire glitter?—dusts every surface. 
“Seriously…who thought that that timing was a good idea?” Will grumbles, tossing a Crayola stub into the crayon basket. He adopts a nasal, mocking tone. “‘What would help out our teachers? Oh, I know—let’s interrupt their dismissal routines!’”
You laugh despite your own exhaustion. Somehow, you’ll have to muster up the energy to tutor Harris tonight. 
Will reaches into the cupboard to grab his car keys, turning back around with a smile that he only offers you when he needs something. “Could I ask you for a little favor?”
There it is. “How little?” You cock one brow as you clip a stack of papers together.
“Eensy weensy. Miniscule. Microscopic–”
“The more you say it, the less I believe you.”
“Okay, okay,” Will acquiesces, twirling his keyring around his forefinger. “So, for my birthday thing on Saturday…a bunch of my childhood friends are gonna be there. Mike, Dustin, Suzie, Lucas, Max, Jane…” he lists them, ticking off each name on his fingers. “Anyway, I was hoping that maybe you could talk to Eddie about a Corroded Coffin reunion? I know they’re on a hiatus or whatever, but if anyone can convince him to play, it’s you.”
He’s not wrong; you’re the most likely person to get Eddie to do, well, anything. But asking him to make amends with Danny and Gareth and getting their band to play a gig three days from now seems like a mountainous task.
Will is staring at you, hands clasped together pleadingly. He’s too optimistic for his own good, and you can’t help but give in.
“Fine, I’ll try. But–hey, don’t get excited yet,” you warn when he pumps his fist in celebration. “‘Try’ is the key word here. I’m not making any promises.”
Your admonition goes unheeded as Will already considers it a victory. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You give him a small, tight-lipped wave as he dashes out the door. You and Eddie were already planning to attend the party; you’d spent part of last night scouring an art store for the perfect gift. And he and Jeff were back to being thick as thieves…maybe this could work. 
Tumblr media
“All right, Mr. Harris,” you say with a laugh, hurriedly placing tiles of various shapes in front of him. You need to make the most of the few minutes you have left until Eddie arrives. There’s a soft, familiar flutter in your stomach as you think about seeing your boyfriend, but you know you can’t compete with him for Harris’s attention. “Can you find the…trapezoid?” The inflection in your voice makes it sound like a much more exciting task than it really is, and you hope it’s enough to wrangle his focus. 
Harris pokes out his tiny pink tongue as he assesses the tiles. He initially reaches for the blue rhombus, but as soon as his little finger touches it, he pulls away as though it’s on fire. “No…that’s not it.” You tuck your lips into your mouth to suppress your amusement as he thoughtfully taps his forefinger on his lips. A solid ten seconds pass before he triumphantly snatches up the correct tile. “Got it!” he beams, showing off the red trapezoid in his hand.
“You did! You got the trapezoid!” You hold up your hand for a high-five, frowning when he shakes his head. His overgrown curls brush along his eyebrows, and you wonder if it’s your place to suggest that Eddie take him for a haircut. “No high-five?”
“Nuh-uh,” Harris protests, now swiveling his whole body in defiance. “I want…tickles!” He holds his arms out, leaving his torso wide open.
Lips pursed in faux consideration, you lower your voice to a hushed whisper. “Hmm…I think that warrants a visit from the Tickle Monster!” You flex your fingers so they resemble claws; he instinctively scrunches up in anticipation, arms tucked into his stomach. You let out your silliest wicked cackle as your fingers dig mercilessly into his sides in pursuit of his most ticklish spots. Delighted peals of laughter emanate from his chest, and you don’t stop until the buzzer rings, signaling Eddie’s arrival.
Harris’s eyes get wide, mischief dancing behind his pupils. “Do you think the Tickle Monster should get Daddy?” he asks, keeping his voice low despite it only being the two of you. 
“Oh, absolutely.” You buzz Eddie in while formulating the game plan aloud. “I’ll grab the pizza and you go on the attack. Once the food is secured, I’ll join you.” You stick out your pinky, and he wraps his own around it. 
“Ms. Sweetheart?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
His words turn your heart into a chocolate chip cookie fresh out of the oven, ooey gooey and destined to crumble if handled too harshly. “I love you, too, Harris,” you manage, blinking back embarrassing tears. The flood of emotion is absurd; he probably tells his stuffed animals that he loves them with the same fervor, but you can’t deny the adoration with which he looks at you.
He flings his arms around you in a hug, squeezing tight. Face pressed to your ribs, his words are muffled but still audible when he says, “I don’t know why Daddy says it’s hard to say ‘I love you.’”
He doesn’t have time to further elaborate before Eddie’s knocking on the door. “Special delivery for my two favorite people!” Your heart beats faster with the knowledge that he’s on the other side, that you’ll be able to sneak in a kiss or two. 
You and Harris share devious grins, the little boy emulating your monster-esque stance from earlier. He creeps behind you on his tiptoes, and bites back a giggle when you slowly open the door, counting down from three under your breath.
“Hi–whoa!” Eddie stumbles back as Harris barrels into him, little fingers dancing across his lower stomach. You quickly snatch the pizza box from Eddie’s grasp and place it on the table before darting back to where his son has ambushed him. You start on his bicep and let your nails travel upwards until they reach the crook of his neck. 
“I’m under attack!” Eddie yelps, twitching this way and that way in a meager attempt to protect himself. “I bring you pizza and this is how I’m repaid?” He easily scoops Harris into his arms, flinging him over his shoulder. Harris lets out an exhilarated squeal, carelessly kicking his sock-clad feet into his dad’s chest. “Jesus, little dude. You’re getting too strong.” Wincing slightly from the pinch in his back as he places the boy on the floor, he gives his tush a little pat and tells him to wash up for dinner, reminding him to use soap and water.
As soon as Harris scampers off into the bathroom, Eddie’s grabbing you by the belt loops of the wide-leg jeans you’d changed into when you got home. One hand slides around your waist and the other finds purchase on your cheek as he kisses you deeply, keeping a listening ear out for the telltale pitter-patter of Harris returning. 
“Missed you,” he murmurs into your mouth, and you shiver at the intimacy this closeness brings.
You laugh quietly, biting your lower lip. “We just saw each other this morning,” you remind him, sneaking in another quick peck.
Eddie shakes his head. “Y’know what I mean. Can’t do this while you’re on the clock,” he counters, shifting his grip so both hands rest on either side of your face. You think he’s going to kiss you again, but he just gazes into your eyes. “Shit, you’re so fuckin’ pretty. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you today.” He rests the slope of his nose on yours, only snapping out of his trance at the sound of Harris rapidly switching the faucet on and off. “Let me go check on him before this place is underwater,” he whispers, giving your own ass a smack as he shuffles towards his mischievous son, a cheeky grin deepening his dimples.
You do your best to compose yourself, heat creeping up your neck and into your face. Busying yourself by placing pizza slices onto paper plates does little to distract you; it’s as though every neuron is dedicated to flooding your brain with Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. 
The way the pads of his fingertips brush against your cheeks when he holds your face. The plush moisture of his lips when he kisses your forehead. The tickle of his brown tresses when he nuzzles into you and takes a deep breath, finally able to relax after a long day. 
“Are you expecting a guest?” Eddie pipes up from the kitchen entrance. A perplexed frown overtakes your lips until he gestures to what you’ve laid out in front of you: four slices of pizza, two plain and two with olives, on four plates. 
Your vision gets a bit fuzzy with tears when you realize what you’ve done. “No, it’s, um…” Nostrils flare as you huff out a short puff of air, hot under your nose. ��Force of habit, sorry.” You’ve been so diligent about only serving three slices, but your preoccupation with his touch had your mind drifting from the task at hand.
It takes him a moment to process what you mean, but when he does, his face falls. It was for Grandma. “It’s okay,” he says, cringing as the words leave his mouth. Because it’s not okay that you’re sad; it’s normal, but frustration still tugs at his heart that he can’t take it away.
It feels wrong to return the slice to the box, so you leave it where it is. Eddie balances the three plates, sliding a plain one in front of Harris. The boy digs in hungrily, sauce caught on the edges of his smile.
“How was work?” you ask Eddie, grabbing a napkin from the pile in the center of the table. It’s a simple question, one that people ask each other all the time, but it stirs up a warmth inside of him. It’s you asking him, fostering a domestic routine that he could follow for the rest of his life. He’d walk through the door of your house, wiping his shoes on the welcome mat you two had picked out together. The kids–Harris, plus another Little Munson or two–would practically knock him down trying to greet him, and he’d engulf them in bear hugs before reaching out to you, kissing your forehead with a murmured, “there’s my girl.”
“Eds?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, it was good.” He stumbles over the words, trying to clear his head of the fantasy he’d conjured up. “Lotsa paperwork, y’know.” He takes a bite of pizza, chewing thoughtfully. “What about you?”
You shrug, watching amusedly as Harris sinks his teeth into his slice and manages to pull all of the cheese off of the crust in one fell swoop. “The usual. The kids are learning about springtime, so Will decided to do a craft making flowers using finger paint and their handprints.”
“Sounds messy.”
“Oh, absolutely,” you agree with a weary grin, “but it was super cute, and Will is great with all that art stuff.” You excuse yourself from the table to get the water pitcher and three glasses, stopping when you remember your TA’s request. “He also asked me if a certain local metal band could play his birthday party on Saturday…?”
Eddie pauses mid-chew, nearly choking on his food. The cheese seems to congeal in his mouth when he tries to speak. “Um, I don’t know about that,” he finally manages, nervously massaging the back of his neck. “I haven’t talked to Danny or Gareth since…”
“I know, but you said you wanted to make things right with them,” you point out. “Maybe Jeff can test the waters? See if they’re ready to talk to you?”
“Maybe.” He averts his gaze, staring at the pizza slice without taking another bite. 
You don’t want to further push the subject in Harris’s presence; instead, you turn your attention to the little boy. “Anything fun happen at school today, Har?”
“Nah,” he responds automatically just a half-second before his eyes light up. “Actually, yeah! My friend Charlie ate a bug at recess today!”
“Ew!” you exclaim, wrinkling your nose in pure disgust, as Eddie simultaneously poses the question, “what kind of bug?”
“An ant,” Harris answers his dad nonchalantly, as though ant-eating is an everyday occurrence. Perhaps it is, which is even more unsettling. 
“Did you eat any bugs?” You’re afraid of his response; you’re unsure why you even asked in the first place. 
To your relief, he shakes his head, a forlorn look on his cherubic face. “No, I couldn’t catch any in time.”
“Thank God for small miracles,” you mutter, turning back to your original task of getting something to drink. Though if the topic of bug consumption continues, you’ll need something much stronger than water. 
Tumblr media
Could Corroded Coffin play again?
It’s a thought that consumes Eddie for the entirety of his drive home, barely able to listen to Harris yammering about how there’s a coin in his jacket pocket that he doesn’t remember putting there. He throws a few lackluster mhms his son’s way and hopes he’s too distracted by the mystery coin to catch on. 
We’re getting the band back together. Well, if Jake and Elwood Blues could swing it, maybe he could, too. 
He waits until Harris is asleep to call Jeff. Getting his son to do his bedtime routine is easiest on Wednesday nights; he’s usually exhausted after a full day of school and tutoring. The one time that Eddie could use an excuse to procrastinate, Harris is out like a light. 
Go to voicemail go to voicemail go to—
“‘Lo?”
Shit. “H-Hey, man,” Eddie begins awkwardly. “How’s it going? Viv doing okay?”
“We’re good. She’s ready to have this baby already. I reminded her, ‘just two more weeks,’ but then she told me to ‘fuck off’ until I’m the pregnant one, so…” he chuckles, more nervous than amused. “Everything good with you? Harris?”
“Yeah, we’re fine. Just, um,” he struggles to find the words, blurting out the first ones that enter his brain. They come out in a rush before he can stop them. “Do Gareth and Danny still hate me?”
Jeff takes a sharp breath in; his reaction does nothing to temper Eddie’s nerves. “They never hated you. They were just…disappointed? Jesus, I sound like my mom.” 
Eddie misses his friend’s anecdote, too wrapped up in his head to fully pay attention. Somehow, disappointed stings worse than the prospect of being hated, especially when the people he’s let down are ones who used to idolize him. “Do you think there’s a way they could be…undisappointed in me? Like, enough to forgive me and maybe play a gig this weekend?”
There’s an extended pause, and then a one-word response: “Christ.” 
Eddie can picture Jeff rubbing his eyes in exasperation, and he scrambles to explain. “Will Byers–you remember him? He was in Hellfire; had that weird bowl cut thing going on?”
“Mhm.”
“He’s having a birthday thing at the Hideout on Saturday and asked if we could play. Just a coupla songs.”
Jeff thinks for a moment; Eddie can hear him drumming his fingers on a nearby surface.
“Why don’t you come over tomorrow night around…6?” he ventures. “I’ll invite the guys and we can…I dunno, figure something out.”
“Thanks, man. I owe you.” He’s about to hang up when he remembers to ask, “Can I bring Harris?”
“Of course.”
Tumblr media
“Har, slow down!” Eddie’s barely unbuckled his son’s car seat before Harris has wriggled out of the sedan, bolting straight for Jeff’s door.
“But I haven’t seen Uncle Danny and Uncle Gareth in forever!” he laments, reaching the house far faster than Eddie. He stands on tiptoes and rings the doorbell like a madman, forefinger jamming into the button at warp speed. “Uncle Jeff! It’s me!”
Jeff opens the door with a huge smile. “Mini Munson!” He scoops the boy up into a hug. “What’s new with you, little dude?”
“I got a wiggly tooth!” Harris exclaims, jutting out his jaw and pressing his tongue against the front center of his mouth. Sure enough, the baby tooth moves slightly forward, and he giggles. “Daddy says the Tooth Fairy’s gonna come and leave me a dollar,” he matter-of-factly reports. He peeks his head over Jeff’s shoulder, squealing and squirming out of his grip when he spots the two men sitting on the couch. He flings himself onto the sofa and plunks himself down into Gareth’s lap. “Hi!”
“Hey, kiddo!” Gareth chirps. “You’re getting so big.”
“‘M five now. I had a birthday party because I turned five.” He splays out his palm to offer five fingers. 
“Did your friends go?”
“Yup!” Harris beams at the memory. “An’ Daddy an’ Grampa Wayne an’ Ms. Sweetheart.”
Danny furrows his brows. “Who’s Ms. Sweetheart?”
“She’s my almost-mommy. Daddy has to fall in love with her first.” 
“Is that so?” Gareth smirks at Eddie. His teasing look is the first crack in the wall that has separated the men for the last six months, and though Eddie is thoroughly embarrassed, it alleviates some of his anxiety.
“Uh, Har Bear, why don’t you go hang out with Auntie Viv while I talk with the guys?”
Viv holds out her left hand, looking utterly exhausted. Her right hand rests on her bump, eyes sending a telepathic message to Jeff that they have five minutes—ten minutes, if Harris behaves well—to come to a solution before she needs a break. 
Silence filters into the room as Eddie fumbles to address the mess he’s made. If Danny and Gareth are here, they’re at least willing to listen to him, which is honestly farther than he’d assumed he’d get. 
He remembers what Harris said about apologizing; technically, what you’d taught him about apologizing: the act of saying sorry, not merely implying it, makes a world of difference. 
“I was an asshole,” he starts. It’s not his most eloquent statement, but it certainly gets the point across. “Not just that night at the Hideout, or at our last practice. I was an asshole for a long time before that. And…I’m sorry.” It feels good to say it; it feels even better that they’re nodding, seeming to believe him. “You guys didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”
Of the rest of the band, Gareth is the one to speak first. “I guess I’m just wondering, why? Why be an asshole to us? We’ve always been there for you.”
“I know.” Eddie fiddles with a thread hanging from his t-shirt, pulling on it until it snaps off. He shoves it in his jeans pocket, not wanting to mess up Jeff and Viv’s place. “Honestly…I’m not sure, but I think it’s because you guys are everything I’m not.”
“What are you talking about?” Danny asks, tone heavy with disbelief. 
“In high school, I was the one you looked up to. The person you wanted to be like. And then I had a kid with some random chick I thought I knew but barely did, gave up my dreams of being a musician, and started selling weed again just to scrape by. And here you guys are. Jeff,” he motions to the friend leaning against the sofa’s arm, “you have a baby on the way with the love of your life. And all of you have goddamn college degrees and jobs that you don’t despise and don’t require you to hide from the law.” He shoves his ringed fingers into his jacket pockets, lowering his voice to barely above a whisper. “And I was nothing.”
Gareth scratches at the upholstery with one finger, absorbing everything he’s just heard. “You know we never stopped looking up to you, right?” He gives a short laugh when Eddie’s eyes widen. “Yeah, man. Leaving Chicago so you could take care of Harris? Putting your kid before yourself? That’s pretty badass.”
Danny nods. “Ed, if there’s someone here to look up to, it’s you.” Both he and Eddie visibly relax. Shoulders drop from their hunched positions, thin lips unfurling into smiles. “No matter what you went through, you never gave up. Even if it almost killed us,” he adds wryly, referring to all of the sleep-deprived Corroded Coffin practices fueled by black coffee and pure adrenaline.
“No fancy diploma can teach us how to stand up for ourselves, or how not to take shit from people, or how to be a dad,” Jeff pipes up from where he’s standing. “We learn from you, man.”
Eddie’s cheeks burn at the compliments, unsure how to accept them. He’d walked in expecting to have to beg for forgiveness, and they were the ones reassuring him. It’s now or never, and he forges ahead while he still has the courage. “Do you…can we get the band back together?” Can we be friends again is the underlying plea, but it’s too vulnerable a statement to make. “We’ll keep it low-key, I promise. Work, family, anything comes up…we can cancel or reschedule. And I won’t be a dick about it.”
The three other men look at one another, nod and turn back to Eddie with smart grins and mischievous glimmers in their eyes.
“On one condition.” Gareth crosses his arms over his chest, smirking as he sinks back against the couch. “You tell us all about this ‘Ms. Sweetheart.’”
The Hideout, normally dingy and coated in a film of sticky ale, has been decked out for Will’s birthday party. Helium-filled balloons in every color bob along the low ceiling, vibrating with the thumping bass of the old sound system. Crepe paper streamers–purple, Will’s favorite color–sway gently with the air that rushes in from opening the door. This has to be Marshall’s handiwork, and it brings a smile to your face. If anyone deserves a partner who fawns over him, it’s Will.
You spot him surrounded by a group of people as the bartender slides a row of tequila shots across the bar and into their eager hands. While they’re distracted by alcohol, you take the opportunity to dart towards the backstage area.
Eddie’s there, digging around for his lucky pick. You wrap your arms around his waist, fingers pressed into the soft dough of his tummy.
“Hey, Rockstar,” you murmur against his neck, kissing just below his earlobe. 
He turns around, jaw dropping when he sees you in a maroon slip dress. The heels on your feet have you two inches taller than usual, and he has to shift where his gaze normally lands to meet your eyes.
“Fuckin’ Christ, baby,” Eddie practically growls, kissing you deeply. One hand presses against the small of your back while the other grabs the plush of your ass, kneading it in his palm. “You’re so fuckin’ sexy. How’m I gonna go out there and play with you looking like that?”
“I’ll make it worth your while.” You giggle when he offers up a bemused smile. “If you do a good job tonight, I’ll give you a reward.” You let your fingertips graze over the metal teeth of his pants zipper, feeling him twitch at your light touch. 
“You’re dangerous,” he winks, delivering another kiss; this time, he gives your lower lip a little bite when he pulls away. His kohl-rimmed eyes draw you in just as they did that first night you’d met, but now you dive into them without the fear of drowning. 
A tactful “ahem” from the now-open doorway startles both you and Eddie, having been floating in an embrace that’s equal parts comfort and desire.
“Sorry to interrupt the lovefest, but we’re on in five,” a man’s voice calls from the doorway. You turn around to see the other three Corroded Coffin members standing there, amusement evident in their expressions.
“You must be Ms. Sweetheart,” one of the guys, soft curls resting atop his head, pipes up. His tone is teasing, but not mocking; the nickname is said with admiration and affection. “I’m Gareth, by the way.” 
“Danny,” the one with tight, wiry curls offers, giving a small wave.
Jeff just shrugs. “You know me.”
Eddie grabs his guitar, slinging the strap across his body. His pants’ fly is tight, and he wills himself to calm down before it’s time to perform. He hasn’t worried about being hard on stage since he was nineteen, but thoughts of your bodies perfectly melding into each other has him subtly adjusting himself as he turns his back to his bandmates.
“See ya out there, baby,” he says before pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. The brief contact between you has you biting your tongue in self-beration for suggesting that the band play tonight. All you want is to dance with him, allowing the steady flow of alcohol to dull your inhibitions as you pull him impossibly close. Not caring who sees or what they think. 
But this night isn’t about you or Eddie. It’s about Will, your TA-turned-friend who has kept you sane amidst your adorably chaotic students and their decidedly less adorable and more chaotic parents. He wanted Corroded Coffin to play his party, and that’s the least you could do for him. 
Will’s already teetering between tipsy and inebriated, breath tinged with the scent of tequila as he introduces you to his friends.
“This is my amazing boyfriend, Marshall.” He smacks a wet kiss to the man’s cheek. “And these are my friends from growing up: Dustin and Suzie, Lucas and Max, and Mike and Jane.” His face melts into a sappy grin as he leans on Marshall to hold him up. “You guys! We’re all in looooove!”
“Jesus Christ,” Dustin mutters, rolling his eyes and shaking his head before turning his attention back to you. “Can we get you something to drink?”
Will raises his empty glass. “I’ll take another–”
“Not you.”
Tumblr media
You manage to sneak in a quick conversation with Max, Suzie, and Jane before Corroded Coffin starts their set. Max is finishing up her Masters in English literature at New York University, set to graduate in two months. Suzie programs for NASA, and though Florida is a far cry from her home state of Utah, she loves her job. And Jane is a social worker at a local adoption agency, the cause close to her heart, as she was adopted by Chief Hopper years ago.
“Damn,” you laugh, taking a small sip of your vodka soda. You’re having so much fun that you don’t even care that it’s been watered down. “You’re all such badasses!”
Your admiration of their collective girl power is cut short by the sound of Corroded Coffin taking the stage. It’s as though they’d never taken an extended break; just picked up right where they left off. You cheer so loudly that there’s a pinch in your throat, but you push past it. It’s more than applause. There’s so much tucked away in your yell: I’m proud of you; you’re a rockstar; you’re my person forever, if you’ll have me.
“Hello, Hawkins!” Eddie bellows into the mic. There’s no missing the grin on his face. He’s happy. He’s in his element. He’s where he belongs. 
“No way!” Lucas exclaims, awestruck as he turns to Will.
“Dude, you got Corroded Coffin?” Mike mirrors his friend’s excitement. He slings an arm around Will’s shoulder and pulls him in for a side hug. “This is fuckin’ awesome!”
“The first song of the night goes out to our guest of honor, Will Byers!” Everyone hoots and hollers as Eddie plays the opening chords to The Clash’s Should I Stay or Should I Go. Eddie told you he remembered that the song was one of Will’s favorites growing up; his older brother had gotten him into the band. Sure enough, Will’s bopping to the rhythm, singing every word, albeit quite off-key. 
Corroded Coffin plays a few more songs from their usual setlist, nerves dissipating with each note, before Eddie speaks into the mic again. 
“This next one is for my beautiful girlfriend,” he announces, eyes gazing into yours. “Baby, if my teachers looked like you, I actually would’ve gone to class.”
He nods at Gareth, who starts playing an incredibly complicated beat. As soon as you hear it, you feel your cheeks heat up. The rest of the guys join in on their own instruments, and Eddie oozes bravado as he sings. 
“T-Teacher stop that screamin’ Teacher don’t you see Don’t wanna be no uptown fool.”
Max leans in to you and whisper-shouts, “I’ve known Eddie for years, and I’ve never seen him so…happy.”
Lucas overhears his girlfriend and adds his two cents. “That’s because we’ve never seen him in love.”
Warmth spreads all over your body, but it’s not from embarrassment. Allowing yourself to believe that Eddie loves you—is in love with you—opens a door you’d deadbolted until the time was right.  You hadn’t wanted to rush things, but the jolt of exhilaration following Lucas’s statement means you can’t deny it any longer: you love Eddie Munson. You’re in love with Eddie Munson. 
“Got it bad, got it bad, got it bad I'm hot for teacher I've got it bad, so bad I'm hot for teacher.”
Will takes the opportunity to twirl you around, and you laugh as you spin amongst new friends, your drink threatening to spill over the sides as he turns you faster.
“Hey! Thank you, by the way!” he shouts, probably a bit louder than he needs to.
“For what?”
“For getting Corroded Coffin to play!” He jerks a thumb towards the stage, stumbling a bit as he does. He’d managed to sneak another tequila shot when his boyfriend left him unattended to use the restroom, and it definitely shows. “And for, like, being there for me.”
You give him a hug, immediately understanding the full implication of his statement. “I’ll always have your back,” you promise, filled with the mingled buzzes of alcohol and belonging.
“I think of all the education that I've missed But then my homework was never quite like this!”
Eddie jumps off of the tiny stage and into the crowd of nine twenty-somethings, each at various levels of tipsiness, and reaches for you to pull you close to him. He’s sweating from constantly moving around and the stage lights, his fingers slick with perspiration as he laces them with yours. Jeff picks up the rhythm for the lead guitar while Eddie kisses you, soft and slow and sensual. He loses himself for a moment before hopping back up to join the rest of the band.
As Corroded Coffin wraps up their Van Halen cover and stops for a quick sip of water, there’s a small commotion behind the bar.
“Is there a Jeff Reynolds here?” the bartender calls out, phone receiver in hand.
Jeff gives a little wave, eyebrows raised in surprise. “That’s me.”
“Someone named Jess on the line? Says your girl is in labor and you need to get to the hospital.”
“Holy shit!” Danny claps a hand to Jeff’s back and grins. “C’mon, man! Let’s get you outta here!” 
Jeff freezes up; hands clammy as he grips the guitar’s neck. “Can you drive?” he asks Eddie. 
Eddie recognizes the fear in his friend’s voice. The selfish part of him wants to refuse to take Jeff to Hawkins General. He could easily plant his feet on the stage and keep playing, claiming that ‘the show must go on.’
No, he silently chastises himself, Jeff needs me. He needs me and I’ll be damned if I let him down again. 
“Of course,” Eddie says, trying to force a relaxed disposition. It doesn’t matter; Jeff is too overwhelmed to notice the obvious effort. 
“Take my car,” you offer, keys already dangling from your fingertips. “Eds, I can take yours and pick up Harris from Wayne’s tomorrow.” It’s easier to swap rides than to uninstall and reinstall the carseat, so you’re perplexed when Eddie shakes his head. 
Two words slip through his lips, soft but pronounced: “Need you.” 
Dustin catches wind of the situation and insists on watching Harris until you and Eddie can come back home, claiming he needs to squeeze in as much uncle-nephew bonding time as possible before returning to Florida. 
“Henderson, it’s late; don’t let him stay up,” Eddie warns as he tosses over his car keys. 
Dustin tries catching them in one hand, but they hit the center of his palm and fall to the ground. “But the best part of being an uncle is breaking the rules!” he laughs as he scoops the keys off of the floor. “By the way, I’m not drunk; just a shit baseball player.” Still, Eddie’s sigh of relief is audible when Suzie plucks the keyring from Dustin’s hand. 
With Harris taken care of, you turn your attention to your boyfriend. Eddie’s face is flushed pale, and you’re worried about him behind the wheel. “Want me to drive?” 
He nods and grabs onto your hand as you lead the two men to your car. Eddie’s doing his best to keep Jeff calm, reminding him that the doctors and nurses have everything under control until he gets there. 
“I’m gonna be a dad,” Jeff murmurs, a disbelieving chuckle permeating the otherwise silent car. “Holy shit.”
Eddie can’t help but smile back. “It only gets crazier from here.”
Tumblr media
The bright lights of the hospital’s waiting room are anything but soothing, especially compared to the dimly-lit bar you’d just left. You speak to the receptionist, an older woman with a tired smile and red-rouged cheeks, explaining the situation as she pages Jess while Jeff and Eddie take a seat. 
Jeff’s voice is nearly impossible to hear despite the stillness of the room. “The baby was breech at Viv’s last appointment.” He clocks Eddie’s confusion and elaborates. “Feet first, instead of the head. If they didn’t get into the right position and the doctors can’t, I dunno, flip ‘em around? They’ll have to do a c-section.” Long overdue tears spill over his lash line, and he makes no attempt to swipe them away. “I just wanna fix it and I can’t.”
Helplessness. It’s a feeling Eddie knows all too well. He spins a ring around his finger, exhaling softly as he considers a response. He can’t say it’ll be alright, because he has no idea whether or not it will be. He and Jeff both know that. 
“No matter what, I’m here for you.” Eddie’s gaze flits over to the receptionist’s desk, where Jess has now arrived and is waving her brother-in-law over. “You’re up.”
But Jeff remains in his chair, hands shoved under his thighs as though they’re glued to the seat. “I…I don’t know if I can do this. What if something happens to Viv or the baby? How can I…?” He doesn’t allow himself to complete the sentence, to finish the thought.
Instinctively, Eddie puts his hands on Jeff’s shoulders. He can feel them trembling slightly as his friend heaves another shaky breath. “Listen to me. You’re gonna do this. You’re gonna go in that room and watch your girl give birth to your baby. Because if you don’t, you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your fuckin’ life.” He glances around and lowers his voice. “I know you’re scared, okay? I get it. And once your kid is safely here, we can talk about it. But right now, you need to pull it together and go be a goddamn dad.”
Jeff nods, finally acquiring the physical stability to stand. “Thank you,” he whispers, clearing his throat and wiping the wet stains from his cheeks. He starts towards Jess before turning back to Eddie. “Could you stay until the baby’s born? If you have to get home to Harris, I understand…”
There it is: his out. He can easily use his son as an excuse, despite the fact that Dustin and Suzie were perfectly capable of babysitting him. He can hightail it out of here and never look back. He can crawl into bed and feel sorry for himself for having to step foot in a godforsaken maternity ward again.
“Yeah. I can stay.”
Tumblr media
Nearly an hour passes with Eddie’s head resting on your shoulder, relaying what Jeff told him. Identical knots form in your stomachs as the seriousness of the complications sets in. You don’t say a word as he speaks; you just try to shift without disturbing him. The cushion on the chair back, worn thin, digs into you uncomfortably, but you don’t dare move too much. His vulnerability is a deer that will scamper away at the slightest startle.
You think he’s fallen asleep until you feel his soft lips on your cheek, a muffled, “mine?” against your skin. You note his phrasing; it’s careful and unsure, a symptom of being in his own head for far too long. 
“Of course I’m yours,” you whisper back, pressing a kiss to his scalp. “What’s got you asking such silly questions?”
“I don’t like this.” It’s an answer and non-answer all in one. 
“Being in a hospital?”
He shakes his head, frizzed curls tickling the crook of your neck. His forehead is sticky with cooled perspiration. “Waiting to see if the baby is okay.”
The realization hits you like a punch to the stomach, immediately hollowing you out. The last time he went through this, it was when Harris was being born. You can’t think of anything to say, so you just nuzzle in closer to him and exhale.
“Why do I feel like this?” Neither of you are sure if he’s asking you, himself, or the universe. “‘S not the same. Viv’s not using drugs; Jeff stuck around the whole time…”
“Doesn’t matter. That’s not how this stuff works, y’know?” You adjust your position so you can look into his eyes. The whites are stained red with worry and exhaustion. “Your gig got interrupted, just like when Harris was born. And there's uncertainty now, too. It’s normal for these kinds of memories to get dredged up.” Your palm rests on his cheek, thumb gently stroking the skin as you ask, “can you try to get some sleep?”
“But what if Jeff needs—”
“I’ll wake you up if he needs you,” you reassure him, settling back into the chair. You lean your head against the wall; the heaviness in your eyelids battles the anxious fluttering in your stomach, but it seems as though sleep is winning. 
Eddie’s hand finds your forearm, rubbing up and down the gooseflesh that has appeared courtesy of the air conditioning blasting through the building. Shrugging off his jacket and resting the leather fabric over your shoulders, he can relax once he’s reassured that you’re comfortable. He assumes his previous position, using your shoulder as a pillow and falling asleep gradually, body jostling itself awake from the unfamiliar sleeping arrangement. Eventually, you can hear his soft snores; for the first time tonight, he’s peaceful. 
You could tell him now, a whisper under your breath that he’s unlikely to hear. I love you, Eddie. I’m in love with you. Your lips part in anticipation, but you snap them shut. You’re delirious and overwhelmed; Lucas’s throwaway comment about Eddie being in love is rattling around your brain. If you say it and Eddie hears you…
You keep it to yourself for now, letting your body rest while still supporting Eddie’s head. Tomorrow is a new day, with a new life brought into the world. Love—if that’s even what this is—will have to wait until then. 
Tumblr media
The soft pink of breaking daylight streams through the windows when Jeff wakes Eddie up six hours later, shaking him by the shoulders. 
“What the fuck?” Eddie grumbles, wiping the sleep from his eyes. When he registers where he is and the potential urgency of the situation, he sits up straight, head filling with fuzziness from the sudden movement. He wouldn’t call the evening restful, but he’d managed to doze off for longer than he’d expected.
“It’s a girl!” Jeff announces, beaming from ear to ear. He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, bursting with enthusiasm and emotion. 
As soon as Eddie’s vision clears, he’s on his feet and pulling his best friend in for a giant hug. When he steps back, he realizes that he and Jeff sport matching misty eyes. “Dude, you’re officially a dad now. You have a daughter!”
“I have a daughter,” Jeff repeats incredulously. His eyes cloud with tears, and he blinks them away as he peers over at the empty seat next to Eddie. “Did your lady go home?”
Eddie swivels around, so caught up in the moment that he hadn’t realized he was alone. She left. She left without me; she didn’t want to stick around and deal with–
“Did Viv have the baby?” Your excited voice penetrates through his intrusive thoughts as you stroll in from the hallway. The makeup around your eyes is smudged; you’d tried to wipe some of it off in the bathroom, but water and thin hospital paper towels are no substitute for makeup wipes. “Sorry, I had to pee.”
Eddie smiles at the sight of you, still wearing his jacket. He hopes his sigh of relief is concealed by Jeff’s exuberance. “A girl. Six pounds, ten ounces.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Wanna meet her?”
“Of course!” You and Eddie begin following him down the corridor. “Wait, is Viv feeling up to having visitors?” You’re mildly ashamed to admit that, in your eagerness, you’d forgotten about the baby being breech and the possible c-section.
Jeff nods. “I think my daughter’s gonna be a gymnast, ‘cause she’d flipped herself back around between the appointment and last night.” 
There’s no masking Jeff’s pride when he says my daughter, and it makes Eddie want to hug him again. “That’s amazing,” he murmurs. There’s a small pang in his heart, a bead of resentment that Harris’s birth didn’t go so smoothly, but it’s unimportant right now. His best friend just became a father, and he refuses to let his own hang-ups take away from this moment. 
“Hi,” you whisper when Jeff opens the door to room 1007. Viv is propped up against pillows, exhausted but happier than she’s ever been before. Your gaze is immediately drawn to the hours-old bundle in her arms. “How are you?”
“Sore,” she replies truthfully, brushing her forefinger against her baby’s closed fist, “but the epidural was a lifesaver.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” you tease, unaware that your words have Eddie’s heart skipping a beat at the idea of you bearing a little Munson. “Is it okay if I hold her?” You don’t want to intrude on the new mother’s bonding time, but your insides turn to mush when the baby opens her tiny lips and yawns. 
Viv carefully places the newborn in your arms, and you gingerly adjust to support her head. Eddie swears that you holding a baby, in that dress, wearing his jacket, is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. “Did Jeff tell you her name?” Viv asks, stifling a yawn. When you and Eddie both shake your heads, she smiles and glances at her partner. 
He clears his throat, suddenly bashful. Eddie forces himself to tear his gaze from the way you smile and coo at the baby and look over at Jeff. “Her name is Nicolette,” he starts, “but that’s a big name for a little girl, so we figured we can call her Ettie, and she’ll kinda…share a nickname with you.”
Eddie’s eyes go wide, convinced he heard incorrectly. “You…I’m her namesake?”
“Mhm,” Jeff confirms, the grin never leaving his face. What neither you nor Eddie know is that they had had a different name picked out, and had fully intended on using it until the first time Jeff held their daughter. It filled him with a feeling of wholeness, of being complete, and it strangely had him thinking of his best friend. Without Eddie taking him under his wing, he might not even be here to experience this. 
It was only by chance that he had stumbled upon Hellfire Club during his freshman year. He was running from Billy Hargrove and his posse, who were determined to beat the hell out of him simply because they could, and had ducked into the drama room to protect himself. Eddie had taken one look at his face and immediately recognized the expression of fear and defeat from being incessantly bullied. “You know how to play Dungeons & Dragons?” he’d asked, and when Jeff had managed a nod, he’d pulled up a chair and motioned for him to sit down.
Being Eddie’s friend, being part of something, gave him a reason to keep going. To live. And in that instant, he vowed to teach his child to extend kindness toward any misfits who need a place to be themselves.
“What about Nicolette?” he’d asked Viv. “Ettie for short.”
You turn to Eddie now, continuing the steady rocking rhythm that keeps Baby Ettie calm. “What do you say, Mr. Namesake? Wanna hold her?”
There’s a brief flash of panic that floods through his veins; he hasn’t held a newborn since Harris. He’d always worried about dropping him or tripping and falling. Truth be told, he was terrified until his son could hold his own head up.
It’s similar, but not the same, he reminds himself, shuffling even closer to you so you can safely transition Ettie into his arms. She stirs slightly in her swaddle but doesn’t cry.
“Hey, little lady,” he says, a delicate smile dancing on his lips. “I’m your Uncle Eddie. The coolest uncle you’ll ever have, for the record.”
“Harris is gonna love her,” you add, heart swelling at the imagery of him cuddling up to his newest cousin.
“Babe?” Viv pipes up from the bed. “Can you grab me something to eat? ‘M starving.” 
“Yeah, of course.” Jeff turns to Eddie. “Come with me? I think Viv needs to feed Ettie, anyway.”
Viv extends her arms and Eddie begrudgingly hands the baby to her. Ettie’s so adorable and small, and it makes him yearn for the days when Harris was that little. Maybe not the sleepless nights or the lack of head control, but the scent of baby powder, the toothless smiles, the way he would fall asleep in Eddie’s arms to whatever song happened to be on the radio. Harris Munson might have been the only infant to be soothed by Twisted Sister. 
Tumblr media
The two men make their way to the hospital cafeteria, sneakers squeaking along the freshly-waxed linoleum tiles.
“I, um, I’m really proud of the way you stepped up for Viv,” Eddie says, eyes trained on the floor. “You’re a great partner. I feel like I should be taking notes.”
Jeff laughs, shaking his head. “That's where my expertise ends. I have no idea how this whole fatherhood thing works.” 
“Wanna hear a secret?” Eddie leans in, shifting his weight onto one foot. He doesn’t wait for his friend’s response to divulge, “none of us do. We’re just…” he waves his hand aimlessly, “…figuring it out as we go.” And making plenty of mistakes along the way, he silently adds.
“I don’t know how you did this alone,” Jeff puffs out an incredulous breath. “I mean, I know you had Wayne’s help…” he trails off, not needing to further elaborate on the missing parent. 
“Yeah, me either, man. I’m just glad I’m not alone anymore.” 
Jeff stops walking, turning to face him. There’s the unmistakable look of pride that manages to make itself prominent despite his evident exhaustion as he says, “You really want this with her, don’t you?”
“Yeah, man,” Eddie chuckles. “It’s like, for the first time, I’m not just thinking about just me or just Harris. I’m thinking about us as a family.” The dinnertime conversations, the gentle ribbings, the tenderness that seamlessly weaves itself into vulnerable conversations. 
“She’s good for you,” Jeff agrees. “And you love her.”
“I mean, I—”
“That was a statement, not a question. You love her.”
And in a single breath, Eddie lets go of the fear he’s been clutching to like a life preserver. The one thing he hasn’t allowed himself to say aloud because it makes it so real, so fucking real.
“I love her.”
--
@kelsiegrin @lma1986 @munsonology @stuckontheceiling @avobabe87 @eddapwinchester @peachysink @browneyes8288 @jeremyspoke-inclasstoday
@breezybeesposts @wednesdaymunson @feltonswifesworld87 @take-everything-you-can @bebe07011 @81rain @dylanmunson @oscarisaacwhore @eddiesguitarskills @everheart12 @etherealglimmer @hollster88 @wh0re4life @siriuslysmoking
@bibieddiesgf @winchester-angel @starlitlakes @avalon-wolf @hazydespair @josephquinncore @daydreaminglisa @sidthedollface2 @eddiebaemunson @mandyjo8719 @daydreaming-mood @aol19 @corkadymu @starcourtnights
@rockstarmunsons @metalhead-succubus @boinkybarness @oohworldofpisces @costellation-hunter @toobsessedsstuff @meadow20 @lost-in-the-stars03 @aysheashea @josephquinnsfreckles @eddiemunsonslittlemetalhead
@chamomileh0ney @dream-a-little-nightmare @emma77645 @kurdtbean @sheneedsrocknroll92 @tlclick73 @lolly-in-a-strange-land @bakugouswh0r3
@strangerthingsstories5255 @adaydreamaway08 @itsalltaken @harmfulb1tch @mimischaos @averagemisfit03 @steddiegarbage @vigilanteshit @ellendemeyer152 @sierrahhh @hiscrimsonangel @mrsjellymunson @idkatee
@quentinswife @eddiesguitarskills @momowhoo @jasminelafleur @mmunson86 @mcueveryday @augustsgetawaycar @let-love-bleeds-red @inesven @tanyaherondale @theintimatewriter
1K notes · View notes
"Use me like a drug!"
Drug Dealer! Seonghwa x f!reader
Tumblr media
Highly requested part 2 of:
Drug Dealer! Seonghwa: "She's a regular here..."
Part 3 is out!!
Hey everyone! Thank you so much for the love on my first part of Drug Dealer! Seonghwa <33 Special shoutout to @ygswl for letting me use her ideas for my writing~ I hope you enjoy this continuation as much as the original!
Ps. Sorry if its not as intense as you hope it would be 😭 I'm the most romantic aroace person u will ever meet, I like NEED to include romantic stuff
CW: mentions of drug dealing/mafia/illegal businesses, drug dealer! Seonghwa, yunho cameo, seonghwa and reader are dating, fluff,!!SMUT!!, unprotected sex (pls stay safe yall), consensual somnophilia/free use, seonghwa cries cuz pussy too good 🙏
Seonghwa hung up the phone, his face a mix of irritation and anxiety. He started pacing the length of his office's shabby rug. MATZ had recently been losing customers, courtesy of the new company, PARADIGM, that entered the industry less than a month ago. He had just gotten off a call with Yunho, his supplier and good friend who had intel on them. PARADIGM was apparently backed up by the son of a rich mafia leader in the city. This meant that they had higher budget, higher manpower, and higher quality goods. And they were quickly stealing MATZ's spotlight in the local drug-dealing scene. Of course, Seonghwa was willing to resort to dirty tactics to get back his customers. But even if he was able to find a group of hitmen to raid and temporarily disrupt their business, MATZ would face even worse collateral damage in the process. After all, MATZ was still a way smaller operation compared to PARADIGM. This news was nothing but trouble for Seonghwa and Hongjoong's business and livelihood, and he knew it.
He continued pacing the room, swearing out loud when he accidentally stubbed his toe against the coffee table's leg. However, he quickly cut himself off when he remembered you were resting on the couch. Tiptoeing over to the slightly-battered, leather sofa in the middle of his office, Seonghwa caught a glimpse of you sleeping peacefully under one of his coats. His tense expression softened slightly. Ever since he had fucked you in one of his new faux fur coats, you'd started stealing his jackets and coats, often using them as makeshift blankets whenever you visited or felt lonely when he wasn't around.
He sighed as he thought about how you had came over on your free day to spend time with him, but had ended up falling asleep when he was taking too long to answer customers' calls and order cancellations. It was a tough, busy period for MATZ, yet you would patiently wait for Seonghwa to make time for you, wasting yours in the process.
"I need to lie down..." He mumbled to himself, as he made his way over to where you were snoring lightly on the couch. Perhaps cuddling up to his beloved girlfriend for a nap would help to temporarily ease the building migraine work was giving him. He stepped over your discarded clothes on the floor, taking note of how the jean shorts and flimsy t-shirt were probably uncomfortable for you to sleep in. Running one hand through his messy locks, Seonghwa unbuttoned his collar with the other to give himself a little breathing room, before carefully getting under his coat to spoon you.
However, despite the presence of your comforting scent and warmth, he still couldn't get the possibility of losing his beloved business out of his head. He knew that it was understandable to be concerned, but he was struggling just to find something else to think about, even if it was only momentary. Suddenly, he winced at the feeling of something pushing against his groin.
Looking down, he realised you were unknowingly pushing your soft ass against him. Your skimpy silk sleep shorts left little to imagination, and Seonghwa could already feel himself getting hard. He groaned under his breath. Out of all times he had to be horny for his girlfriend, why'd it have to be when you were asleep? The last thing he'd want to do would be disrupting your rest when you were exhausted from a long week of classes.
This, however, brought him back to a text conversation you had with him just a few days earlier. You'd noticed how Seonghwa had been very stressed lately, and had brought up the concept of free use to him. Essentially, you gave him your permission to let him use you for stress relief, even if you were asleep. Seonghwa's heart ricocheted in his chest thinking about it, internally thanking the gods for sending an angel to him.
He carefully tugged down your silk shorts, chuckling at how you shuddered when his cold palms came in contact with your dewy skin. He was taken aback at the wet spot on your lilac panties. Were you expecting this? His face heated up at the thought of you being all ready for him to use at any moment. As if you weren't already the perfect girlfriend for him. Hurriedly, he tugged aside your panties and fumbled to pull down his own pants.
Seonghwa bit his lip, holding back a whimper as he sank his hard cock into you. His neck arched back, stretching out the letters tattooed across his long neck. He buried his face into your exposed shoulder, inhaling your scent as he effectively caged your frame into his larger one. His breath hitched when you whined and shifted in your sleep, but he exhaled a sigh of relief when you fell back into deep sleep with a satisfied look on your features.
Slowly, Seonghwa began thrusting in and out of you, setting a slow but comfortable rhythm for himself. He swallowed his moans as he leaned in to lick and suck at the skin under your jawline, leaving behind faint purple marks that would surely show later on. Even in your state of unconsciousness, your body reacted to Seonghwa's movements, clenching on him every now and then and letting out quiet moans. "S-shit, you're so good to me, sweetheart... my y/n," he mumbled more to himself than to you. "Even... even when you're tired and sleepy, you still help me out... I love you so m-much." The stress from work started to melt away, the migraine disappearing along with it. Your warmth and closeness was so overwhelmingly relieving that your boyfriend even started tearing up. His restrained moans turned to desperate whimpers and hiccups. He reflexively slid an arm around your soft waist, pulling you impossibly close to him and allowing his cockhead to hit an even deeper spot in you. This startled you awake with a loud moan.
You blinked sleepily at your surroundings, aware that Seonghwa was balls deep in you at the moment. He was too deep in pleasure to notice you'd woken up, though. You sucked in a breath when he hit that deep, new spot in your cunt again, tilting your head to leave a kiss on his tussled black hair, when you felt hot liquid dripping down your bare shoulders and sliding down your collarbone.
"Hwa? Baby?"
Seonghwa jumped a little, suddenly made aware that you'd woken up. He hesitantly lifted his head from your shoulder to make eye contact with you. Puffy, teary doe eyes stared back into your own.
"..hwa? Are you crying?"
"Oh...uhm, fuck, yeah, I'm so sorry, sweetheart--"
He started pulling away from you, embarrassed to be caught crying while literally fucking himself into you. But you grabbed his hand and looped it back around your waist, earning a befuddled look from your panting lover. You offered a smile. "Stressed?"
He gave a sheepish smile and nodded, lips trembling and eyes still shiny from crying. You gave him a kiss on the corner of his lips.
"So use me. Use me like a drug."
Seonghwa's eyes widened.
♡♡♡
Shortly after the two of you had finished, it was Seonghwa's turn to fall asleep. You quietly watched his chest rise and fall with every breath he took. The tears on his face that hadn't dried yet were gently wiped away by a tissue clutched in your fingers. How could he be so effortlessly beautiful? Your attention was quickly drawn away by Seonghwa's phone vibrating on the coffee table. Anxious that the noise might wake your knocked out boyfriend, you reached over to pick up the call.
"Hello?"
"Hello, Seonghwa? It's Yunho."
You let out a sigh of relief. You knew Yunho. He was a good friend of Seonghwa's and was also MATZ's supplier.
"Hey Yunho! This is y/n. Seonghwa's sleeping right now, and I don't wanna wake him up. What is it?"
"Oh my god y/n! Its been awhile since we talked. Seonghwa's resting? Thank god, honestly. Poor guy's been so stressed out lately, with that new company stealing all the customers. Did he happen to tell you about PARADIGM?"
"No, but they sound like trouble. Why'd you call him?"
"Fuck, yeah, I called because I got good news! There's another gang in the drug industry that's rivalling with PARADIGM. They're even planning to raid PARADIGM's hide-out within the next month. Both groups are around the same size and have similar backgrounds. High chance they'll wipe each other out when they eventually fight. I wanted to tell Seonghwa that he doesn't have to worry about losing MATZ anymore."
"Thank you so much, Yunho. I'll make sure to tell him the good news."
You hung up the call, bubbly with excitement and happiness. Seonghwa stirred in his sleep just as you hung up with Yunho. He rubbed at his eyes, mumbling a sleepy "who was that?". You leaned down to peck his lips, running your hand through his bedhair at the same time. "Go back to sleep first, baby. Rest and I'll tell you later." Seonghwa gave you a grateful grin and nodded before letting his head hit the couch pillow once more.
633 notes · View notes
joequiinn · 2 months
Text
The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 6
[chap five] | [chap seven] | [all chapters here]
summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…
notes & tropes: fem reader, slow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers
a/n: I feel like this chapter took forever to write, but it was literally only a week (also shoutout to @eddiernunson for helping with it!)??? I put so much work into this one, so I can't wait to see what everyone thinks! Updates will probably change to weekly for the time being, as chapters are starting to get longer. Enjoy~~
wc: 5.7k
taglist: @a-queen-blr @costellation-hunter @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie @delilaaahhh @eddiernunson @em0220 @frogtape @fromasgardandback @kthomps914 @lotrefcp @marrowfrog00 @mewchiili @munsonssweets @no-bueno-writer @rach5ive @sav12321 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @steeldaisies @stormgrl19
Tumblr media
Chapter Six
Eddie once again met you outside the school on Monday morning, waiting - presumably for you - near the front entrance. As you spotted one another, Eddie grinned flirtatiously, and you relaxed your face, realizing that before making eye contact with Eddie that your jaw was clenched and your gaze was harsh. You hadn’t realized how cold your neutral expression was up until recently.
Eddie pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against, meeting you at the front door in time to open it for you. The corner of your lip pulled up in thanks, and once you were both inside, Eddie rested his arm over your shoulders, causing you to let out a surprised breath as your neck grew just a touch warm. You were glad that you happened to have a book to hold and keep your hands occupied, as you just knew without it you’d have crossed your arms or let them awkwardly hang at your side; even in previous real relationships, you weren’t a particularly physical person.
“Princess,” He greeted mockingly, as if he knew putting his arm around you would make you tense.
Your eyes narrowed a little as you taunted back, “Freak.”
“I thought we said only nice nicknames.” Eddie turned his over-dramatic, sad eyes on you.
“I also remember telling you not to call me ‘princess.’” You retorted, intentionally avoiding his eyes.
“Ah, but it suits you, doesn’t it?” Eddie continued teasing as various students looked your way, some doing double-takes as they realized who you were walking with. Your eyes briefly flicked up to his face, but you looked away before he could notice your gaze.
As the pair of you approached your locker, you were almost disappointed that no one was lingering there prepared to try and drag you back in with the crowd you always knew. It was nearly surprising just how quickly everyone seemed to leave you in the dust the moment you started feigning any interest in Eddie - years of friendship really seemed to mean nothing, huh? But the disappointment didn’t show on your face, as it was outweighed by the opposite sense of relief that you didn’t have to put on too much of a show, that your plan had done its job almost too well.
Once you were at the locker, Eddie let his arm fall from you so you could shuffle around in your bag and your locker. You both took that opportunity to look around, and you nearly smiled when you realized Eddie was doing exactly the same thing as you - that he was looking for reactions, that he was looking for the faces of people that knew either of you. So, you noted, he seemed to be enjoying this charade, too.
“So,” Eddie eventually leaned against the wall of lockers to look at you as you fussed with your belongings, “my band has shows on Tuesday nights.”
“You’re in a band?” You ask with a hint of disbelief, looking up at his face for a moment, which furrowed a little at your question.
“I did mention I play guitar.”
“You didn’t mention the guitar or the band.” You countered smartly, to which Eddie rolled his eyes.
“Alright, fine,” You smirked to yourself while closing your locker, leaning your shoulder against it to mirror Eddie’s pose, “You should come to our show tomorrow.”
Before you could stop yourself, you made a critical face at the suggestion. Based on the way he dressed, you knew exactly the kind of music Eddie most likely played, and you were far from interested in that. And you had no idea if he was good or not, or who the hell his bandmates were - for all you knew, they were even bigger losers than him.
In response to your mean expression, Eddie narrowed his eyes, his jaw a touch tight, “Stop being stubborn. Maybe you’ll enjoy it.”
“I doubt it,” you said with an unamused grin. A moment later, Eddie looked past your shoulder, his eyes showing recognition for whoever the hell he was looking at. You whip around to see a friend of his, the one with the locker near yours; said friend appeared a little confused as he looked between you and Eddie.
Without warning, Eddie snatched your hand and dragged you in the other boy’s direction, causing you to nearly trip in the process. You, of course, glared at him for how quickly he pulled you along, but you said nothing as the two of you approached his puzzled friend.
“Gareth,” Eddie started with a charismatic grin, his voice loud with excitement that you weren’t prepared for. He tugged you alongside him, keeping a hold on your hand as if he were enjoying the fact that you couldn’t just pull away. With his free hand, Eddie presented you as if you were some prize, “You’re familiar with the resident ice princess.”
Gareth’s eyes went back and forth between the two of you, trying to keep his confusion from totally twisting his expression, which he did a poor job of. You, as well, were trying to keep your face from showing any annoyance or disorientation from this whole thing, although you were certain you instead just looked like a total bitch.
“Yes…” Gareth started hesitantly, his eyes finally settling on Eddie’s face, “I didn’t think you two knew each other, though…”
“Recent development.” Eddie shrugged nonchalantly, releasing your hand only to throw his arm on your shoulders again before you could retreat. You side-eyed him, briefly unconcerned with whether or not Gareth saw it - Eddie was being exceptionally annoying this morning.
“How did you two…?” Gareth pointed between you, his muddled voice trailing off.
You and Eddie looked at one another with realization - you didn’t have an answer for that. Neither of you had even considered that that was a story you needed, and you felt stupid for not thinking about it from the get go. Now, one of you had to come up with it on the fly; you weren’t sure if you’d prefer coming up with it yourself or leaving it to Eddie.
You should probably take this one, you decided - just your luck, if you left it to Eddie he’d come up with the most ridiculous story that could never hold up. Still staring up at him, you take a deep breath, prepared to come up with some explanation quickly, but Eddie beat you to the punch.
“We were meeting for a deal,” he began, and you briefly wondered if he was about to tell Gareth the truth, “chatting became flirting, so I asked her out on a whim; didn’t expect her to actually say ‘yes,’ though.”
Eddie gave you that charming smile of his, feeling your shoulders relax - that explanation was nice and simple, believable enough that no one would ask questions. It looked like it appeased Gareth, too, because his confusion didn’t appear nearly as blatant as it was a minute ago. You were sure he still found it odd and probably had minor doubts, but he didn’t seem the type to vocalize those things.
“She’s coming to our show tomorrow night.” Eddie added, to which you turned your harsh stare onto him again. Your mouth immediately opened to dispute, although you hesitated for a moment as you realized Eddie did this on purpose - he dragged you over  to his friend and put you on the spot, thinking you wouldn’t be able to argue in front of someone else. And you nearly debated whether or not you should, however, the small, smug look on Eddie’s face was exactly the catalyst you needed.
“I never said that.” You stated simply, watching the surprise that crossed Eddie’s face; yup, he didn’t think you’d debate this if another person was involved. You could see the hesitation in Gareth’s body language, could see that he was still getting over the fact that you and Eddie were, apparently, together.
“I thought you did?” Eddie put on a very convincing look, pretending to mull it over, trying to set you up to agree to it. You’d hand it to him, he was determined.
“No.” You raised your brow to challenge him, and you couldn’t help the small defiant smirk that dared to cross your lips, “I’ll need some incentive for that.”
“Whatever you want.” Eddie said without hesitation, returning his attention to Gareth with a humorous smile, “She’s not so bad once you get to know her.”
To that, you gave his chest a little smack, meeting Gareth’s eyes, which remained just as perplexed as before. Your customary impassive expression was on your face, “No, I’m worse.”
Gareth nearly looked nervous until you finally cracked a small smile, although he still seemed put off - he probably didn’t know whether or not you were kidding, even as you grinned at him. Maybe you needed to relax and not scare Eddie’s friends too much, it may eventually piss him off.
Eddie gave your shoulder a squeeze, as if it were a silent plea for you to behave yourself. You looked at his face for a few moments, once again challenging him, before returning your eyes to Gareth with a sigh.
“I’m not that bad.” You reassure plainly, certain that you don’t sound terribly convincing. Nonetheless, Gareth’s face isn’t nearly as hesitant, although you knew he was far from coming around to you.
“You get used to it.” Eddie chimed in while giving your shoulders a little tug, a signal that you two should start walking, “Don’t let her scare you too much, Gareth, the power will go to her head.”
You gave his chest another small smack while you scoffed. Eddie simply grinned and shook his head in amusement; he gave Gareth a nod of farewell before you two began to walk through the hall towards your first class of the day. Once you were out of earshot, you looked up at Eddie from the corner of your eye.
“Don’t set me up like that.” You instruct plainly, trying to avoid any malice that you would’ve used on him only a week ago.
“Oh, lesson learned.” Eddie retorted with a small sound of mirth, “I should’ve known you’d enjoy being difficult in front of other people.”
You shrugged, finding some mild amusement in it as well, “I just can’t seem to help myself.”
“You can say that again.” The pair of you walk in an easy silence for a few moments before Eddie looks at you with hopeful eyes, “But you will come tomorrow, right?”
You raise your brows at him, your face showing your disagreement with the question, “It’s not like I need to - I doubt anyone will be there to see us.”
Eddie rolled his eyes. He couldn’t believe how easily his thoughts and feelings about you fluctuated - one second, he enjoyed your company, the next he found you tiresome.
“Oh, come on,” Eddie started, studying your face, “Are we dating or not?”
“Well--”
“Don’t answer that.” Eddie cut you off, knowing exactly what you’d say to his poorly phrased question. You nearly laughed, but tried to keep a straight face - you didn’t need Eddie seeing you amused while you were trying to argue your case with him, “You know you have to meet my friends eventually, might as well be now. And I’d bet your parents wouldn’t be so happy about you going to a dive bar with a guy they don’t even know.”
As you two paused outside of your classroom, you gave Eddie a scrutinizing look, mulling over his two points - the one about his friends was neither here nor there, but he did make a good point about your parents. And from the look on his face, you figured he also knew that it was a good point.
While you studied him, Eddie leaned towards your face, his voice challenging, “Live a little.”
You narrowed your eyes, wanting to argue despite knowing that you were already losing. As you stared at one another, Eddie raised his brows impatiently, urging you to agree already and stop being so stubborn. You finally shook your head with a sigh of defeat, your brow furrowing even more as a cocky grin spread across Eddie’s lip.
“Fine, I’ll go. But I’m not gonna like it.”
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
You sneered with distaste as you eyed the Hideout, your gaze critical as you took in the neon signs, the filthy windows, and the crowds of older bikers and alcoholics. This is the place Eddie dragged you to? You could kill him for not better preparing you for just how seedy and unsavory it would be.
Behind you, Eddie and the band were pulling equipment from the back of the van, the clatter of cymbals and their mingling voices drawing your attention. As you turned around, they all quickly whipped their eyes in another direction, quieting just a little - of course they’d been staring at you, talking about you. How could they not, considering that all of a sudden you were dating one of the losers amongst them. And said loser gave you a friendly wink as you met his eyes, but your attention turned back to his friends, making them all nervous with your intense gaze.
Admittedly, you loved that they were scared of you, loved that they were too damn nervous to even look you in the eye. You couldn’t help but find it funny, and you figured it would take a long time to get them to even talk to you without tripping over their words.
You crossed your arms as you looked back up at the bar again, frowning, “This place looks like a venereal disease waiting to happen.”
You heard one of them make a surprised sound at your comment; you’d bet the band was sharing shocked, nervous glances just behind you.
“Relax, princess,” Eddie flung his arm over you, his guitar case in the opposite hand, “just try to have fun, it’s not as bad as it looks.”
You gave him a smart look, “You say that now, but just you wait until some creep tries to grope me.”
Eddie blew air between his lips, “You’d probably scare anyone that even looked at you funny. Besides, you already let one creep grope you.”
He made a grabby hand over your shoulder as if to suggest he was about to touch you indecently, and behind you two the band chuckled, causing Eddie to grin largely. You gave him an affronted look as you hit his shoulder.
“Shut up!” You were taken aback by the joke, but you realized Eddie was probably all riled up by his friends - he was a boy, after all, they always said shit just to make their friends laugh.
“Sorry, sorry.” He raised his arms in surrender, his eyes apologetic as they met yours, “None of those jokes, I get it.”
You continued to glare at him for another moment before looking back towards the band. Eddie introduced the other two that you hadn’t met before, but you were already forgetting their names. Jeff? Grant? You weren’t totally certain. You could see a thoughtful furrow in Gareth’s brow as you glanced over all of them, and something told you to pay attention to him - you had a feeling he didn’t believe you and Eddie, that if anyone were to figure out your lie it would be him. That made him a far more observant friend than any of yours.
Eddie took hold of your hand and started dragging you to the bar, his band following right behind the pair of you. As Eddie held the door open, the sound of bluesy rock music met your ears, and you took in the various patrons and surroundings of the Hideout. You could immediately tell the Hideout seemed to cater to musicians - the stage was cramped, but well-loved, central with bright lights and a crowd formed to watch the band currently in the spotlight. The place wasn’t packed - after all, it was a Tuesday - but there were more people than you were expecting.
You could tell your group brought the median age of the bar down dramatically, everyone else looking 40 or older. As you made your way through the patrons, a few glanced at the band in recognition, one man even clapping Eddie on the shoulder as you passed. Corroded Coffin must have spent a lot more time here than you gave them credit for.
You stayed practically tucked into Eddie’s side as he led you through the Hideout, not wanting to get lost amongst the crowd of drunks. Once you reached the bar, Eddie greeted the bartender with familiarity, pulling you in closer to introduce you to the man with an eager grin, really selling that you were his girlfriend. His tone could’ve even fooled you.
“Keep an eye on her, alright, she’s trouble.” Eddie joked with the bartender, causing you to roll your eyes as they laughed.
“You look like you can handle yourself.” The bartender offered while meeting your eyes. Although he had a rough exterior, there was nothing about his gaze that felt off, so you gave him a small look of confirmation.
“That’s the problem.” Eddie teased, looking at you playfully.
You realized the rest of Corroded Coffin was already waiting in the wings, watching the other band finish up their set. Eddie gave your hand a small tug, drawing your attention back to him; he leaned down a little as he spoke, mouth close to your ears so you could hear him over the loud music.
“Stay here with Jack, alright?” He nodded his head towards the bartender, “That way I don’t lose you.”
“I thought you said this place wasn’t as bad as it looked.” You pulled back a little so he could see you raise a taunting brow.
“It’s not.” He reiterated, “but just my luck, you’ll draw trouble to you.”
You hummed in disagreement, “If there’s trouble, that’s on you.”
“That’s what I’m worried about.” Eddie grinned in contrast to his words, his eyes amused. He leaned towards you again as if he wanted to put on some show of physical affection, but hesitated; why did that ever so briefly make you nervous? Instead, he pulled his hand from yours while bringing his lips close to your ear again; you unconsciously flexed your hand now that it was free.
“We’re going on soon. Try to have fun.” Eddie took a deep breath before pulling back, and you almost thought that he had smelled your hair, but you figured that couldn’t be true.
As he’d done before, Eddie’s fingers grazed your back as he walked off in the direction of the stage. You watched him closely, the realization hitting you that this was a new place and you knew no one here. And it’s not that that frightened you or made you nervous, but the observation put you on your guard, made you a little more tense and aware of your surroundings.
Your eyes stayed locked on Eddie as he laughed with his friends, taking the stage to set up their equipment. You took the opportunity to study him, taking in the way his laugh spread through his entire body, the way he seemed to be so much more dramatic and playful and boisterous with his friends around. For a few moments, you didn’t even realize you were nearly smiling, although your expression quickly evened out with that realization. What the hell were you smirking about?
“Drink?” Jack’s gravelly voice asked over your shoulder, so you turned back towards the bar and eyed him momentarily.
“No, I’m not--”
He cut you off with a dismissive wave of his hand, knowing what you were going to say about your age, “Does this look like the kind of place that cares?”
His tone was matter-of-fact, and you smirked in appreciation at it. You considered for a moment what you wanted to drink, hopping up into one of the bar chairs as Jack watched you patiently, “What’s the girliest drink you know how to make?”
He laughed at the question, shaking his head but accepting it, “Ah, one girly drink coming right up.”
The corner of your mouth tugged back - there was something about Jack that instantly amused you. Maybe his grumpy vibes were entertaining, or maybe it was the fact that he found his own amusement in your drink order. Regardless, maybe it wasn’t so bad that Eddie effectively left this man as your babysitter.
The sound of a bass being tuned caused you to look back up at the stage. Eddie’s guitar was slung over his shoulder as he discussed something with the band, everyone looking prepared to start any minute now.
As Jack set a pretty drink in front of you, Eddie tested the mic, looking delighted at the crowd as the band finished their preparation. Again, you caught yourself smiling a little, blindly picking up your drink from the bartop as you continued to watch Eddie.
Of course, the almost endearing look on your face disappeared entirely once the music started. Just as you had expected, the drums were loud, the guitar thrashing, and Eddie’s singing rough and whiny. You couldn’t help the sneer on your face - this was so not your kind of music. Although the crowd seemed to respond positively, this just wasn’t your scene, and you unintentionally sat stiffly in your seat.
You hoped the lights were bright enough that Eddie couldn’t see you. Considering that his eyes hadn’t settled on you in some time, you figured the stage lighting made it difficult to find you. You just knew the disinterest that your body language exuded was bound to annoy him to some extent. Sure, you could fake being his girlfriend easily enough, but you couldn’t fake any interest in metal music. It was so damn loud and aggressive that it made your chest hurt and left your head confused.
However, once you got past that, you were able to study Eddie a little more. He was… actually good at this. You knew absolutely nothing about music, but just from watching Eddie you recognized how complicated the guitar was, how much skill it actually took to play these complex chords. His vocals were another story, but with that guitar Eddie showed an impressive amount of expertise, skilled hands with an intense care and focus. At one point, you nearly began to zone out while watching Eddie’s hands work up and down the neck of the guitar, and when you finally shook yourself out of the trance, you had to wonder just how long you’d been staring so damn intently at Eddie’s hands.
As the band played on, Jack brought you a second drink before you were even done with your first. You smiled in thanks before knocking back what was left in your first glass. Like any good popular high school kid, you’d been to your fair share of parties with alcohol aplenty, but that didn’t make you any less of a lightweight. One drink you could handle just fine, but it was always the second drink that started to make things a little blurry. So, you eyed your new glass warily, deciding whether or not you were brave enough to drink it.
But what did you have to lose? Despite its appearances, you were safe enough here at the Hideout, you figured you wouldn’t be out too late, and one more drink wasn’t going to totally mess you up. So, you grabbed the glass decisively, returning your attention to Eddie as you took a sip. You’d just cut yourself off after this one, no need to get plastered on a Tuesday night.
But damn it, Jack was too good a bartender, because as you were about finished with this glass, he put another in front of you. You furrowed your brows a little, stopping him before he could walk away and attend to the other patrons.
“I really shouldn’t!” You had to shout over how damn loud Corroded Coffin was - did someone turn up the speakers, or did they sound even louder because of your drinks? Jack leaned on the counter, his expression gruff but his eyes somehow still kind. He pointed in Eddie’s direction.
“Have one more, I trust that kid’ll take good care of you.” You made a doubtful face, looking between Jack and the drink. Unconsciously, you went back to sipping at the one in your hand, scrutinizing the bartender, “I’ve known Eddie since he was 14 - when I say he’ll take good care of you, I mean it.”
The comment was surprisingly genuine, causing you to cock your head curiously. Seeing something in your expression change, Jack gave you the slightest of smirks before turning his attention onto the other waiting customers. You realized a moment later that you hit the bottom of your glass; you stared at the melting ice briefly before looking at the new drink in front of you. Fine, one more. As you swapped the glasses, you hopped to your feet, forgetting that Eddie had asked you to stay at the bar.
That second drink put you a little more at ease; the loud music didn’t bother you nearly as much as it did before, and you didn’t mind pushing your way through the bar patrons anymore. You didn’t know where you wanted to go exactly, but you knew you needed to get on your feet for a little bit. So, you began to maneuver closer to the stage, keeping to one side of the crowd so you weren’t entirely packed between people. Your gaze stayed almost zeroed in on Eddie, taking in his stage presence thoughtfully.
Aside from him actually showing talent that you weren’t expecting, you also noticed how excited he was to be up there playing for people. The elation in his face, the animation in his body language - he had a lot of love for music, that was obvious to you. And because the drinks had been loosening you up over the course of the set, you realized that you were actually smiling as you watched him, actually enjoying the sight of Eddie live it up on this dinky little stage.
You didn’t even try to fight the look on your face, assuming that Eddie still couldn’t see you - you couldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that you were having a good time, after all. You even caught yourself tapping your foot along to the music at one point, as if the rhythm was beginning to make sense to you. It was more than just cacophonous noise - or at least that’s how it felt now that you were nearly three drinks deep - although you still didn’t quite understand the appeal of metal. Nonetheless, you found yourself trying to enjoy it.
It was as Eddie announced the final song that you finished your drink, leaving the empty glass on some nearby table. For a moment, you caught yourself wishing you weren’t here alone, wishing you could’ve dragged Amelia or Janet here to keep you company. Although the music and venue were far from anyone’s taste, this was exactly the kind of thing you all would have normally done together. But just as quickly as you thought that, you also remembered all the times Amelia had just disappeared on you at parties, all the times Janet flaked at the last minute when you discussed going to shows up in Indianapolis.
You got so caught up in your thoughts that you hadn’t realized Corroded Coffin just wrapped up their set. And you didn’t come back to yourself until a hand cupped your ass, immediately setting you off like dynamite.
You whipped around to find a grimy but otherwise nondescript man lingering behind you, a slimy look on his face. You were also briefly aware of Eddie’s voice calling something from the wing of the stage, but you were already in go-mode, arm reeling and swinging ungracefully to crack the guy. Your aim was a little off and you nearly missed, but you still managed to make contact, although with his throat rather than his jaw like you intended. If there was any pain in your own hand, you probably wouldn’t notice it until tomorrow.
As he stumbled back, you felt someone else come up behind you, and you were about ready to hit them, too, until you were spun around to face Eddie. He held your shoulders, but you still had to steady yourself by grabbing his forearms, meeting his shocked eyes with far too much of a calmness about you. Eddie’s brow furrowed as he looked you up and down then looked past you at the man you hit, then back at you.
“Jesus, can’t leave you alone, can I?” His tone was bewildered, as if he couldn’t believe he saw you, the ice princess, hit a guy. Sure, he knew you had quite a bark, but he didn’t know you also had a bite.
Thanks to the drinks in you, a laugh escaped your throat - was it a nervous one, or did you find the whole thing actually funny? You looked back at the man to see him already being taken care of, Jack dragging him out of the bar. No one else seemed to bat an eye at the ruckus, perhaps because they were used to it, choosing to carry on and ignore it. You met Eddie’s concerned eyes again, grinning uncharacteristically large.
“Fucking idiot.” Eddie looked nearly offended until he realized you were talking about the man and not him. He sighed, shaking his head with near mirth, still trying to wrap his head around this whole thing.
But after a few moments, he laughed - it was small and breathy, but when his eyes met yours again, there was definitely a glimmer of amusement there. He stepped back from you looking around in disbelief, a smile threatening to pull at his lips.
“Don’t piss you off, got it.” Eddie finally smiled while looking you up and down; now that the shock had passed, he was actually a little impressed by how it handled yourself. Feeling a touch sobered up, you shrugged in defense of yourself.
“Well, he shouldn’t have acted like an idiot.” Eddie chuckled at your comment, nodding in agreement.
“I didn’t know you had a right hook like that.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” You counter, swaying a little on your feet yet again, which made your statement nearly laughable. Eddie put out his arm in case he needed to steady you, looking you over heedfully.
“I think it’s time we get you home.” He says simply, putting his hand to the small of your back and guiding you towards the band as they packed up their equipment. You allowed him to lead you, although you rolled your eyes a little at how cautious he was being with you, as if you were a baby bird or something.
“Oh, come on, the night is young.” You say far too lightheartedly, making Eddie eye you with a curious look - after all, this lax attitude was incredibly odd for you. Is this how you always behaved when you drank? Open and approachable and even a little fun? He’d have to keep that in mind, keep an eye on you in the future.
“You’ll regret saying that tomorrow.” Eddie teased while grabbing his guitar case from where it leaned against the wall. Meanwhile, you relaxed against a nearby speaker, watching as the group finished collecting their belongings. You realized Gareth was looking at you, and rather than glower as you’d normally do, you instead gave him a tipsy grin. That seemed to confuse him even more, as he nervously looked back at what he was doing.
“You guys aren’t half bad.” You say to no one in particular, although they all briefly glanced up with varying degrees of surprise. Only Eddie smiled.
“Is that meant to be a compliment?” He ribbed. You playfully made a face, but didn’t grace him with a response.
Eventually, you and Eddie were back in the van, the rest of Corroded Coffin having carpooled separately. As Eddie pulled away from the Hideout, you watched him drive, studying his hands as they drummed on the steering wheel. Some metal music you weren’t familiar with played through the speakers, but luckily Eddie kept the volume low enough that your brain didn’t rattle.
Watching Eddie’s fingers move, you recalled his skill on the guitar, how easily his fingers slid over the strings, how his hands practically danced on the instrument. It was a talent that you actually found quite impressive, although you weren’t about to divulge that information to him. You turn your attention to his face, how the moonlight highlighted certain features; a sheen of sweat caused his bangs to stick to his forehead, his cheeks still flushed, a content look settled on his face. Once again, you found yourself zoning out as you stared at him.
“You were good tonight.” The words left your mouth unexpectedly as you continued staring at him, and Eddie looked over at you with disbelief, as if you actually giving him a compliment was so foreign. His eyes pulled you from your slight daze, and you tried to collect yourself but fumbled, “You’re good at… guitar.”
God, that sounded stupid. And as if to emphasize it, Eddie laughed merrily, clearly delighted by your own confusion in your phrasing. You glared harshly, hating the fact that you sounded so dumb.
“Your singing could use some fucking work, though.” You retaliated unnecessarily, huffing as you crossed your arms and slouched in the seat. Eddie’s laughter died down as he looked at your pouting face, although that in itself made him want to keep laughing. But he pushed down that desire, not wanting to get you riled up.
“Oh, come on,” he reached over to nudge your knee, his palm hot against your skin. If you weren’t so grumpy, you probably would have liked the feel of it, “Sorry… but thank you. Glad to know I’m good at guitar.”
You glanced at him, still glaring, but his expression was genuine and nonjudgmental, sweet even, and you felt yourself begin to relax.
247 notes · View notes
cranetreegang · 1 year
Text
The Polyjuice Ploy - Ominis x FemReader
Well... this got out of hand. This was a request made by this lovely person -> @mentosanu and here is the original post/request
Hopefully I have not gone too crazy and this is somewhat what you wanted lol. if not... my b.
Shoutout again to @isolight for reading this over <3 you da best
Music to enjoy -> Flight of Dragons
Tumblr media
Summary: Sebastian and Ominis, after reading through an old textbook, get the idea of Ominis drinking a Polyjuice Potion to enjoy a day of sight and surprise a certain special someone ;)
Word Count: ~7,8-, (checks word count again... omfg) ~7,800 words
Warnings: angst/hurt, slightly heated kissing, comfort/fluff
Credit to the Harry Potter website and JK where I basically stole *cough* rewrote the description of what a polyjuice potion does and the affects of the polyjuice when ominis transforms
Read my other Ominis Fics Here
-----------------------------------------
Ominis rests his head into his palm with a sigh. His quill writes out the last sentences he needs for his essay and he couldn’t be happier to be nearly done. Footsteps echoing on stone catch his attention, followed by the gate of the Undercroft rattling open. 
“Ah, was hoping to find you here.” Sebastian greets. 
“Looking for me, were you?” Ominis spares Sebastian a grin in greeting. “I’m busy at the moment, but if you don’t mind waiting-,”
Something heavy drops onto the table Ominis is using, sloshing his pot of ink. Ominis frowns as he feels over the object in front of him. 
“Why… what is this?” Ominis questions, tracing over the worn cover of a leather tome. He runs his other hand along the spine. The bindings of the book are exposed and he can feel the bumps of worn cords holding the loose pages together. Even the leather is peeling on the corners and edges. Whatever the title of the tome was, it’s long since faded as his wand can’t find a legible letter to decipher.
“Some light reading I need help with.” Sebastian states while he takes a seat next to Ominis.
Ominis sighs, “I don’t have time for this, Sebastian. I must finish this report for Profess-,”
“That can wait. This is far more pressing.” Sebastian shoves away all of Ominis’ writing utensils. 
“Sebastian!”
“Ominis, you were the one saying I needed to find other ways to cure Anne. Well, this could be it. Now, are you going to help me, or sit there and complain?” 
Ominis lets out a deep breath while he flips the book open, “Fine. But only for a little bit. Then I must finish my report.” Ominis stresses with a glare aimed towards Sebastian. 
“Thank you, my friend. I won’t soon forget this.” 
Ominis skims through the pages. Seems Sebastian procured an archaic textbook dated back to the first few years of Hogwarts - detailing the more illicit potions you could make. Elixirs ranging from the mundane boil remover to the far more deadly Eternal Sleep Draughts. Ominis doesn’t find much in the book to help Anne, not even a remedy to help with the pain. He flips to another page when he pauses. 
It enables the consumer to assume the physical appearance of another person, as long as they have first procured part of that individual’s body to add to the brew. The effects of the potion are only temporary, and, depending on how well it has been brewed, may last anywhere from ten minutes to twelve hours. You are able to change age, sex, and race by taking the Polyjuice Potion, but not species.
The more he reads, the more his thoughts stray from searching for a cure for Anne. To take on the physical appearance of someone else and to change… 
“Find something?” Sebastian questions, glancing over Ominis’ still wand digging into the page.
“No.” Ominis states and tries to turn to another section of the book, but Sebastian snatches the tome from Ominis’ grasp. He examines what has caught Ominis’ attention and Sebastian’s brows furrow at what he finds.
“Polyjuice Potion?” Sebastian looks over to Ominis. 
“I’m sorry. I got distracted. Can we please move on and go back to the task at hand?” Ominis reaches for the book, but Sebastian keeps it just out of his reach and chuckles.
“Why’re you so interested in a Polyjuice Potion, Ominis?” 
Ominis huffs with a shake of his head, “I’m not.”
Sebastian rolls his eyes, “You most definitely are.” 
Ominis crosses his arms with a snarl, “And if I am? What of it?”
Sebastian reads over the passage again, a smile forming on his lips, “I can see why you would be. If I’m thinking the same thing you are.” 
“It’s silly. I shouldn’t even entertain the thought.” Ominis dismisses. 
“Why not? Wouldn’t you want to spend the day being able to see?” 
Ominis frowns, “But, it wouldn’t be through my own eyes. It would have to be through someone else's. And I doubt anybody would be willing to give me a lock of hair for such a thing.” 
Sebastian puts his hand on Ominis’ shoulder with a slight grin, “It’s a good thing I am that somebody.” 
“What?”
“You heard me. I think we should make this potion and once it’s done, you can use my hair. It’ll be perfect!” Sebastian shakes Ominis in his excitement.
“Brewing a Polyjuice Potion takes time. And, far more importantly, skill. A skill I doubt either of us possesses.” 
Sebastian leans back in his chair with a hum, “That could pose a problem. Unless, we found someone to make us the potion.” 
Ominis cranes his head, “Who would be willing to-,” the words die in his mouth. His lips thin as he nods, “I know of someone. I’ll have to reach out to them though.” 
Sebastian claps his hands together with a grin, “Excellent. This may be one of your better ideas, Ominis.” 
Ominis snatches the book from Sebastain and goes back to researching, “We shall see, won’t we?”
===========================
Two weeks pass before Ominis receives word back from his contact. The letter is brief and Ominis is filled with excited trepidation as he heads to the Hog’s Head for the meeting. Ominis is relieved the transaction is quick, with few words exchanged. Ominis keeps the potion close to his chest as he heads to the Undercroft to stash it away until the right moment. 
Three days later, Sebastian finds Ominis pacing in the Undercroft. 
“Sorry I’m late.” Sebastian greets. “Ready for this?”
Ominis shakes his head, “I don’t know. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.” 
“What’s the problem? You seemed sure yesterday.” 
Ominis stops, letting out a sigh, “Are you sure you’re okay with this? If you’re have any doubts, I-,” 
“I want to do this, Ominis.” Sebastian interjects. “Now, where is that potion before you change your mind.” 
Ominis reaches into his pocket and hands the potion over to Sebastian. Sebastain holds the palm-sized phial up to the fire’s light. He plucks out a few strands of his hair then he places them into the potion. A faint sizzling sound can be heard as Sebastian swirls the muddy liquid. Sebastian hands the potion back to Ominis.
“Drink up.” Sebastian grins. 
Ominis holds the potion in his hand - willing away his nerves. He raises the potion up with a slight smile, “Cheers.” 
He downs the thick liquid, refusing to allow himself to gag at the taste and consistency. 
Immediately, his insides start writhing and twisting. He doubles over, wondering if he’s going to throw up the concoction. A burning sensation spreads rapidly from his stomach to the tips of his fingers and toes. It’s enough to bring him gasping to all fours, whimpering and moaning as a horrible melting feeling begins to overtake him. His skin feels like it’s bubbling. His fingers stretch out, growing larger and longer. He hears the popping of his joints as they shift into their new positions over the rushing of blood in his ears. His shoulders stretch and he’s constricted in his own clothes. He rips off his robe, flinging it away, and his legs and feet are in agony. His shoes are now two sizes too small and he could feel his hair resting along his forehead instead of being neatly styled back. 
“Ominis! Ominis, are you alright? Answer me!” Sebastian demands, flipping Ominis over to his back.
Ominis spares him a nod, finding his tongue to be too heavy and thick in his mouth to speak. He no longer feels like he’s ripping apart and the nausea he felt has all but evaporated. 
Sebastian chuckles, “Wow. I… this is absolutely dotty.” 
Ominis’ brows pinch and Sebastian’s hands assist him into a sitting position. 
“Ominis. Open your eyes.” Sebastian urges. 
Ominis sucks in a sharp breath then slowly opens his eyes. A bright face grinning back at him is the first thing he sees. Ominis stares at the boy, taking in the sight. 
“Sebastian?” His voice is not his own and Sebastian’s eyes widen.
“Whoa! Oh, wow, Ominis. You can see.” Sebastian’s grin is contagious and Ominis matches his excitement. 
“I can see. I see you.” Ominis reaches up and touches Sebastian’s face, his eyes blurring with sharp tears burning his eyes and throat. Sebastian lets Ominis trace over his smiling face. It’s all so familiar. The bridge of Sebastian’s nose all the way down to the curve of his brows. Ominis didn’t expect his friend to have such dark eyes and dots all over his face. Sebastian’s hair is about how he pictured though - a thick mess on top of his head.
“Well? Am I what you envisioned, or have I disappointed?” Sebastian teases. 
Ominis shakes his head, “You’re nothing like I envisioned. Yet, it makes sense. I-,” he turns his attention to around them. He gets to his shaky legs and laughs as he looks around. 
The room is far less inviting than he imagined with the stone being a dull, dreary hue. The lights of the brazers and candles lures him closer. The warmth of their light takes his breath away and his hand reaches out to hover just over the flames. He turns his gaze to all the crates, boxes, and other items stored away down here. Some are covered in a fine layer of dust, while others are draped over with light colored sheets.
“This is the Undercroft.” Ominis mumbles to himself. 
“Indeed it is.” Sebastian grabs each of Ominis’ shoulders and drags him over to a cracked mirror. “And here you are.” 
Ominis stares at the two identical boys in the mirror. Ominis’ eyes widen and the boy across from him does the same. He tilts his head and so does the reflection. He touches over his cheek and drags his fingers down over the tanned, freckled skin. 
He looks over to Sebastian, “How odd indeed.” 
“I must say, this is probably the best you’ve ever looked, Ominis.” Sebastian smirks. 
Ominis laughs, “I’m sure.” 
Ominis stares at Sebastian, finding it unbelievable he can actually see his friend looking back at him with a devilish smile. He could always hear Sebastian’s smirks when he spoke, but to see how it affects his face, especially his eyes - illuminating them in a way Ominis doesn’t quite understand - makes him wonder if all people are this animated.
“Well, as exciting as being here is, there’s a whole bunch of things you ought to see before that potion wears off.” Sebastian states. 
Ominis nods, “Yes. Of course. Where should we begin?” 
Sebastian smirks while guiding Ominis towards the exit gate, “Sorry, my friend, but I’m afraid I can’t go with you.” 
“What?! Why not? This was practically your idea.” Ominis scowls. 
Sebastian raises a brow, “Oh? And tell me how good of an idea will it be for the both of us to be seen together right now? They know I’m a twin, but I doubt they’ll believe this.” He gestures over Ominis. 
“Besides,” Sebastian slips off his robe and tosses it to Ominis, “you already have plans today.” 
“I do?” Ominis shrugs on the robe, adjusting the sleeves and rolling his shoulders.
“Yep! You’re supposed to be meeting up with a certain special someone right about now.” Sebastian grins.
“What? You made plans with her?” Ominis crosses his arms with a frown. 
Sebastian rolls his eyes, “By I, I mean, you, Ominis.” 
Ominis’ brows furrow, “You mean to say you didn’t tell her what we’re doing.” 
“No. It’s better this way - trust me.” Sebastian opens the gate and motions for Ominis to go through, “Now, go to the North Exit. And have fun today. I’ll be here waiting until you come back.” 
Ominis wants to protest, but Sebastian slams the gate closed in his face and starts walking away. Ominis sighs, making his way out of the Undercroft. 
He’s met with a near blinding light once he emerges from the clock. His eyes roam all over, taking in the sights of students passing by. He grips his wand and follows the familiar vibrations towards the North Exit, but his stride is slow. The sounds he’s heard all start to merge together. The paintings, the statues, the students, the smells of certain plants - all of it forms the full picture before him. He stops several times in front of vibrant paintings of faraway places, suits of armor shining in the light, and when he takes a bridge outside, he’s completely entranced. 
The sky above is a color he finds the most pleasing. Blue. That must be the color blue, he realizes. With gentle clouds rolling by, he’s starting to understand how people can gaze up at the heavens for hours on end. Students zip by on their brooms and he laughs at how wonderful the sight is. The sun peeks out over the towering castle. He can’t believe how small the sun is - he always imagined it taking up half the sky considering how much the light reaches. He has to look away when his eyes begin to burn and dark spots blot his vision. He continues his journey to the North Exit, but as he gets closer and closer the more his nerves start to show themselves. 
Seeing Sebastian for the first time was surprising, so he can only imagine how he’ll react to seeing her. His heart won’t slow down - it keeps getting faster and faster with every step closer he gets. His hands clench and unclench themselves and he’s practically grinding his teeth into dust. He’s tempted to turn around, hide in the Undercroft until the potion wears off, just to cease this torture. He’s at the stairway gripping the cool railing as he descends. Just before he reaches the last step, the vibrations of his wand pick up a familiar aura of someone. His stomach twists. He looks over to find a girl standing by the door. 
She cranes her head and smiles with a light wave, “Sebastian! What’re you doing here?” 
Ominis freezes in place - his mind barely able to shove his wand into his robe’s pockets. His heart hammers in his chest and he can’t breathe. She walks towards him with confusion lacing her eyes. Her eyes. He can’t stop staring at them. They’re a beautiful color he’s not familiar with. They almost seem to sparkle. And how she moves is enchanting. It’s like she’s floating right over to him. Her perfume reaches his nose and a smile stretches across his face at the familiarity. 
“Sebastian? Everything alright? Do I have something on my face?” She laughs, but her brows pinch together with slight worry at the thought. 
“What? Um, no. I-, You look great. I-I mean, you’re-, It’s fine.” Ominis curses himself and decides shutting his mouth would be best for now until he regains control of his rattled mind. 
She nods with her eyes slightly narrowed, “Well, um, have you seen Ominis?” 
“Ominis?” 
She laughs, “Yes, Ominis. You know, our friend? You said he’d be meeting me here to go to Hogsmeade. But, it looks like he’s running late.” 
Damn Sebastian for telling her that. He probably thinks he’s so clever, Ominis seethes to himself. 
“Well, actually…,” Ominis takes in her awaiting features, noting how much her face speaks for her - much like Sebastian’s. If only he could recognize what emotion she’s currently conveying with her pinched brows and slight frown. Perhaps Sebastian had a point about not telling her. He turns his gaze to the ground, “He said he wouldn’t be able to make it.” 
“Oh.” Her frown fully forms and she looks away, “D-Did he say why?” 
He curses himself at lying, but he can’t back down now, “He said he wasn’t feeling like himself.”
She nods, slow and disappointed, “I see. I should probably go check on him if he’s not feeling well.” 
“No!” Ominis exclaims, making her eyes widen. “I mean, we could go to Hogsmeade together instead.” 
She cranes her head, her eyes scanning over him as her mouth parts and closes several times. 
“Ominis said I should take you.” He blurts out. “You know, as to not disappoint. He feels terrible about all of this.” 
She spares him a small smile, “Ever the gentleman. Alright, if you don’t mind, I suppose it’d be nice to get away from the castle for the afternoon.” 
He can’t stop his grin from forming and he holds out his arm for her, “Shall we?” 
She raises a brow at him and he realizes all too late how odd this gesture is for ‘Sebastian’ to be making. He quickly lowers his arm and takes the lead with a hurried gait. She doesn’t follow immediately and it takes her a few long strides to catch back up. He opens the door and he’s taken back by the sight which greets him.
The lawn is a vivid pigment in contrast to the stone which cuts through it. The grass is lush and inviting. He kneels down and rests his hand on it. The grass ripples from the wind and he’s beguiled by how peaceful the motion is. He’s felt it a hundred times, but to see it actually happen as it moves in waves across the field makes his smile widen. He remembers Sebastian saying that grass is normally green. He takes in the color of green and how it paints the trees as well in a different shade - a more richer, green. 
“Everything alright?” 
He whips his head over to her, who watches him with a worrying gaze. He quickly stands back up.
“Fine. I apologize - I thought I saw something.” He walks ahead and she keeps up with him. 
Ominis tries to keep himself from staring too long at the fountain as they pass. The water trickles and rings in his ears in a pleasant way, and he wouldn’t mind staring at the rippling water, but he forces himself to keep walking. They continue along the path and when they reach the bridge, he practically slams his chest against the railing to look at the river below.
The water rushes over the different colored rocks, taking various debris of leaves and twigs down stream. He follows the river until he sees the lake shimmering in the distance. He’s aware of her standing by him and her eyes are trained at where he was staring. 
“Something caught your eye again?” She wonders.
“Yes, but it was nothing.” He dismisses. 
She nods with a slight grin, “Are you sure you haven’t caught what currently plagues Ominis? You’re being quite odd today.” 
“I’m fine.” Ominis smiles at her and she nods, but the way her gaze seems to be piercing right through him makes him feel exposed. 
Despite doing his best to keep his eyes straight ahead instead of looking around, he can’t help himself. He can’t believe how beautiful the world is. He looks above them at the tree limbs overhanging the path. The sunlight filters through the canopy and he’s in awe at how such a simple thing could be so magnificent. He could actually see the rays of sunlight - he even reaches out to grab it. Little flying creatures flutter past them towards the bright flowers growing beside the path and he can’t quell his smile as he watches. The sound of the trumpet flowers makes him pause. While the flowers themselves were dazzling, their obnoxious noise masks any notes of admiration within him. 
“You’re quiet today.” She says, bringing his attention to her. The sun illuminates her skin and hair, making her glow. He’s taken back by how captivating she is. His heart picks back up again and his stomach flutters and twists. He likes watching how her voice and lips work in tandem to speak. Then he realizes she’s said something else.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” He mumbles. 
She stops walking, making him do the same, “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” 
“Yes. I’m fine, I assure you.” 
She opens her mouth, but promptly shuts it. She scans over him again then resumes walking. There’s an emotion written upon her face, but he’s not sure what it is. He’s finding great difficulty in discerning anything she says, too. A task he had no trouble with before, but now his mind can’t piece together her face with what’s being said.
The path winds up the hill and as they reach the top, his breath escapes him at the sight of Hogwarts in the distance. He all but sprints towards the overlook and he lets out a slight laugh at the castle. It was grand. Truly, and utterly, grand. The lake surrounds the school - which seemingly emerged with the jagged rocks which encompasses it. The towering trees seem almost insignificant compared to the striking, massive castle. 
“Quite a sight.” She says with a sigh while she joins him at the railing. “It never fails to give me goosebumps.” 
A flock of birds fly in front of Hogwarts and Ominis nods, “Magnificent.” 
She watches him and her lips try tugging into a smile, but she refuses to let it form. She pats the railing then turns towards the path.
“Come along. We’re nearly there.” 
Ominis takes in Hogwarts for a moment longer before following after her. 
He’s looking up at a tree with leaves that were not green, but a light, almost soft color. He’s perplexed by the idea of trees being more than just green when his eyes widen at the entrance to the town. Hogsmeade is bustling with students and patrons alike - some rushing to get to where they need to be while others stroll about with not a care in the world.
She turns to him with a slight grin, “How about checking out Gladrags first? I’m in need of a new pair of gloves.” 
He nods, his eyes darting everywhere. So much is happening, it’s enough to spin his head. Hogsmeade has always been a bit overwhelming to his senses - so many smells, sounds, and people. It makes it hard for him to know what’s happening, or where he was at times. Now, he sees the chaos before him is just as he imagined. Cauldrons bubble over crackling fires, lively music plays in the distance, several conversations all happening at once - it makes him grin with how mad this whole place is.
A hand takes his and he doesn’t think twice about grasping it back, letting it tug him along as he looks around. His mind catches up to him after a few steps and he looks down to find her leading him. He’s about to take his hand back and come up with some excuse to his bewilderment, but she glances towards him with a soft smile. This smile is far different from the others she’s had. It reaches all the way to her eyes. For some reason, it makes his chest warm and his breathing choppy - he can’t possibly remove his hand now. Not if it means extinguishing this feeling.
Her pace is far easier than it was on the way here. It gives him plenty of time to take in the sights of the different shops as they pass by. He recognizes the scents of some, like Honeydukes and The Three Broomsticks, and others surprise him by their appearance, like Spintwitches. Birds fly overhead - which he figures out are owls due to the parcels they carry - and watering cans zip past to the different rows of blooming flowers. He notices the hanging lights overhead and he wonders what nighttime must look like. 
Honeydukes’ display of assorted, bright candy is what brings him to a full stop. The candy is vibrant and comes in so many designs and shapes. 
“Do you want to go inside?” She questions.
He slowly nods and she giggles - leading him into the candy shop. 
He can’t contain his smile at the vast array of colors before him. There’s more than he could ever imagine and he feels somewhat annoyed by how little everyone has told him - giving him only basic colors and denying him the plethora of shades they come in. It makes what he saw at Hogwarts seem almost muted in tone by comparison. 
They browse the vast selection of succulent candies, chocolates, and cakes until he finds his favorite - Peppermint Toad. He picks up the box with a grin. He’s always enjoyed the sharp mint taste and how the toad hops around in his stomach after. He finds the whole experience amusing - much to Anne and Sebastian’s confusion. 
“Is there anything you would like?” He asks, glancing towards her. 
She laughs, “You want to get me something?” 
He nods, “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” 
She bites her lip with a slight shake of her head, “I wouldn’t mind a Chocolate Frog then. Since you’re offering.” 
He pays for their sweets and they head back out - making their way towards Gladrags. He stares at the toad-shaped treat, noting how the pattern swirls with two different colors which possess a slight shine, before he pops it into his mouth. He frowns for a moment at the peppermint taste not being nearly as predominant as he remembers. While the toad hops in his stomach, she’s already eaten her chocolate and is examining her card.
“Merlin’s Beard. I got Almeric Sawbridge. Again.” She huffs.
He laughs at her sour expression. Her frown melts away into a warm grin and she looks away.
“I didn’t know you liked Peppermint Toads.” She comments. “Thought only Ominis did.” 
Ominis curses himself for not thinking about such an oversight.
“I… normally don’t. I only wanted to see why Ominis enjoys them so.” He says.
“And?” She smiles. “What’s your verdict?” 
“They’re adequate.”
She giggles with a slight shake of her head.
They arrive at Gladrags and the smell of pigment and fabric greet them as they walk in. She wanders over to a dress on display. She skims over the fabric with a slight smile then looks over to him.
“What do you think of this orange?” She wonders. 
The dark, rich color is almost regal in appearance. He touches the dress, following the seam down the bodice and enjoying the stiff material. 
“It looks beautiful.” He says. 
Her eyes are aflame and a wide smile comes over her. She bites her lip then turns away towards the scarves. She looks over them until she finds one. She holds it out to inspect it before turning back to him.
“Do you think Ominis would like this?” She asks. 
The monotonous tone of the scarf doesn’t evoke anything in him until he feels the article of clothing. It’s soft and brings a smile to his face. 
“I like it.” He comments then shakes his head. “So, I’m sure Ominis would as well.” 
She laughs, wrapping the scarf around his neck, “I’m glad you think so. Mind holding on to it for me then?” 
“I-, of course.” He can feel his cheeks heating up as she smooths down the scarf on his chest. When her eyes meet his, a gasp escapes him. He feels encapsulated in a warmth he’s never experienced before. All from one single look. He’s slightly thankful he can’t see her all the time for he’s sure he would never be able to speak a coherent sentence to her otherwise. 
 She pays for the scarf then grabs his hand again, leading him outside. She turns to him with a grin. 
“What would you like to do today?”
The question takes him by surprise and he can’t form a single thought to reply back to her. 
“Well, if you have nothing in mind, then I may have something we can do.” 
He smiles, “Lead the way.” 
She squeezes his hand and his heart soars at the twinkle in her eyes. She’s up to something, but he can’t find it in himself to care. She leads him through Hogsmeade until they’re at the park. He’s heard the dragon’s rumbles from the topiary before, but he finds great amusement in seeing it. It’s far more animated than he imagined. And the dragon itself, while somewhat cute, gives him a slight shiver at how powerful of a beast they are. The colorful, flowered trees rain down their petals and he reaches out to grab one, but it slips right through his fingers. She takes them to the overlook and he can see the train station below them. Over in the distance, Hogwarts stands noblely. 
“Well,” he faces her, “what did you have in mind?” 
She has a sly smile as she gazes out over the scenery before them. The wind ruffles through her hair and he’s momentarily dizzy due to his lack of breathing. He needs to cease his staring, lest he die from self-induced asphyxiation, yet he's drawn to her and he’s unable to break away.
“It’s a fine day for some sightseeing.” She reaches into her robes and pulls out a worn, leather duffle bag. She glances around to ensure they’re still alone before she opens the bag. 
A whooshing noise, followed by a light, emits from the bag. Before his eyes, a giant beast emerges, followed by another similar beast with different colorings. The creatures chirp and scratch their sharp claws on the stone ground. His eyes widen and he’s quick to step away from them and be closer to her.
“Hippogriffs.” She states. 
“What do we need them for?” He questions - not bothering to mask his apprehension. 
She grins as she goes to one of the Hippogriffs that’s similar in coloring as the scarf she gave him. 
“This is Highwing. She’s quite spectacular, isn’t she?” She holds out her hand and Highwing bumps her beak against her palm. “And the other one is her mate. Dashmane.” 
“Dashmane?” 
She giggles, “Yes, because he’s so dashing.” 
The darker shade of the beast’s plumage shimmers in the sunlight. Ominis appreciates how stunning both of the creatures are. 
“First things first, you must introduce yourself to him - by giving a low bow.” She informs him.
Ominis glances between her and Dashmane before he does as she instructed. He bows, his back low and his head even lower. His eyes dart up to the creature as Dashmane bows back to him. 
“Excellent.” She grins as she goes to Highwing’s side then mounts the awaiting beast. She looks over to him expectantly. 
“But, I-I don’t know how to fly.” He protests. 
“You’ll be fine O-,” She pauses with a slight cough, “Sebastian. You’ll pick it right up.”
He gulps as he follows her movements and manages to jump then swing his leg over Dashmane. Ominis situates himself on the beast’s back. He looks over to her and she has a pleased smile. She appears relaxed - like this is natural for her to be on the back of a Hippogriff.
“Ready?” She wonders. 
He examines Dashmane, “Where do I hold on to?” 
She shrugs, “Anywhere you can.” 
He frowns, settling on grabbing a hold of a few tufts of feathers near the nape of Dashmane’s neck. Dashmane lets out a startled squawk, rearing up and nearly sending Ominis sliding off. Dashmane gallops forward and his wings unfurl as he vaults over the stone banister. With a few mighty flaps of his wings, Dashmane is soaring over the train tracks and towards the train station. Ominis’ heart is pounding in his chest and his eyes are blurring through the tears streaming past his temple. He feels like he’s close to falling off Dashmane’s back at any moment - or at the slightest movement.
A screech gets his attention as she flies in front of him. She looks over at Ominis with a wide smile. She’s truly a natural flier with how at ease she appears to be. Her and Highwing take the lead. Dashmane lets out a chirp of his own as he tries to catch up. Bystanders below, waiting for the Hogwarts Express, all stare up as they pass overhead. She curves off to the left towards a waterfall before banking back towards the arched bridge, diving below. Ominis clutches onto Dashmane as he follows, his stomach flipping and his breathing erratic. 
She turns Highwing away from the lake and over the tree line - following the lake’s shore. She spares him glances to ensure he’s still following as she takes them over the treetops. The tips shudder and move as they fly by they’re so close. She dives below the trees, with Dashmane doing the same, and they zip along the path until she takes them high above once more. His head turns every which way as he takes in the sight of the valley from above. The rivers cut through the growth of trees similar to the veins on his hands. He spots clusters of homes tucked away in the forest. 
They head towards an old castle or keep of some kind, with a blooming tree of the same vibrant, soft color from Hogsmeade, where they fly over as they turn back towards Hogwarts. He stares at the ruined estate in wonder at what it could’ve been. He turns his attention back to her and he adjusts himself on Dashmane. He lowers himself and, as if reading his thoughts, Dashmane flaps his wings harder than before.
Dashmane finally catches up to her and Highwing. She looks over to them and she laughs.
“You’re getting the hang of it!” She shouts. “Now, try to keep up!” 
Ominis’ eyes widen as she careens towards the river below. He tightens his grip then does the same. They soar across a river until they’re back over the Black Lake. He can’t stop his heart from beating wildly, but he’s finding the rush to be too thrilling to suppress. He leans himself over enough to catch his rippled reflection in the lake. He frowns at Sebastian being the face looking back at him. He focuses back on their flight.
She’s taking them towards Hogwarts, flying higher and higher as they near. Ominis can place what some of these areas are - like the boathouse where he arrived his very first year. Feels like only yesterday when he made the climb up all those steps and entered the Great Hall for the first time.
She takes them over the ramp and heads straight for the courtyard leading to the Great Hall. Ominis can make out the students below with some of them pointing up at them as they near. Highwing angles upwards before taking a dive right past the courtyard. Ominis’ eyes widen as Dashmane follows the route and dives after them. His heart is in his throat and his stomach drops. They’re heading right into a stone bridge and his whole body tenses up. Dashmane closes up his wings and zips through the archway. 
Ominis lets out a breath as Dashmane follows along the river, keeping his wingspan small enough to navigate the narrow crevice. Highwing zips through then banks sharply to the left at the divide. He emerges from the river just as she turns back towards a waterfall underneath the castle. As they turn out to trail along the embankment of the lake, she leads them towards another cascading river towards the old wooden long bridge. 
She flies them underneath and leads them up the waterfall, flying higher and higher over a stone bridge, until she turns to the left towards a plateau. She lands at a clearing with various rocks set up in a large circle around the area. He manages to bring Dashmane into a gentle landing, prancing up to be next to Highwing. 
“See. I knew you could fly.” She grins at him, her hair windblown and her face radiating. 
“I think you were trying to get us killed.” He retorts with a smile. 
She laughs, dismounting from Highwing then him dismounting as well. She brings out the strange leather bag again and opens it. The bag sucks both Highwing and Dashmane inside. She puts the bag away then motions with her head towards the edge of the plateau. She takes a seat on the rock, her legs draping over the edge. He sits next to her and he takes in the sight before them. 
The sun is beginning to set behind them, casting a pale, but brilliant, glow upon Hogwarts. Birds fly around a tower, which he realizes is the Owlery. 
“I’m glad we got here in time.” She whispers, her eyes set towards the sunset. “I wanted your first sunset to be special.” 
“It already is-,” the words die in his mouth as he pieces together what she just said. 
“I-I mean-, what do you mean my first sunset?” He tries to play off. 
Her eyes roll over to him with an amused grin playing on her lips.
“Do not play coy with me now, Ominis. I know it’s you.” 
His eyes widen and he can feel a burning heat overtake his face. She giggles, placing a warm hand on his.
“While I was irritated you did not tell me of your ploy at first, I figured you must have your reasons to keep me in the dark on this.” 
His head falls with a sigh, “No. Not a good reason by any sort of means.” 
She laughs again, “I assume Sebastian must be involved.” 
“This was his idea, if that’s what you’re implying.” He looks over to her, “When did you figure it out?” 
She hums, “I had a feeling something was wrong when you looked at the grass like you’ve never seen it before. Then again, when we got to Hogsmeade, you were completely taken away. And Sebastian most certainly doesn’t look at me the way you did today. But, what finally confirmed my suspicions, was when I asked what you thought of that orange dress. Which was very clearly purple, by the by.” 
He closes his eyes with a soft groan, “You are far too clever of a witch at times.” He looks over to her with raised brows. “Does that mean that harrowing flight was to get back at me?” 
She bites her bottom lip, “A bit. But, to also show you as much as possible before that Polyjuice Potion wears off.” She sighs, “I wish you would’ve told me. I could’ve made today special for you.” 
“It has been special.” He takes her hand in his with a smile. 
The look upon her face sends him spiraling once more. He’s not sure what it is, but he knows how it makes him feel. She’s the first to look away and she’s back to gazing at the sunset.
“You don’t want to miss this.” She says in a quiet voice. 
He looks off towards where the sun is setting behind the rolling mountains. The hills in the distance are draped in a fog and the colors begin to bloom across the landscape. 
“What colors are these?” He wonders. 
“Well, do you see there?” She points towards a large patch of a bright pigment which echoes across the sky. “That’s actually orange.” 
“Orange.” He laughs. “I see my mistake now.” 
She smiles as she points to another section of a softer color similar to some of the vibrant trees he saw, “That there, is pink.” 
His lips stretch into a smile, “Pink. I think I do like pink.” 
“And over there,” she points toward a darker color, far richer than the rest, “is purple. And there, where the sun is, is yellow, or actually, more accurately, gold.” 
He sucks in a deep breath, taking in this new knowledge. He wants to engrain this picture before him into his mind. The clouds hold a vast array of pigments like a field of flowers. And he can see so far - miles upon miles with no end in sight. It all evokes a well of emotion within him. And when he looks down at her, the sunset reflecting upon her soft features and in her eyes, he all but breaks. 
“I wish I could see this everyday.” His voice wavers. 
She looks over to him - her lips parted in concern and her smile fading. She wants to say something, the anguish is clear. His hand cups her cheek and her eyes close at the contact. 
“I don’t mean to cause you distress, love. I only mean to say - I envy Sebastian, and everyone else, that’s able to gaze upon you. I would love to do nothing more than to sing you ballads about your beauty.” He strokes her cheek, her eyes remaining close as she places her hand over his to press him closer to her face. 
“You don’t need to serenade me, Ominis.”
“I know.” He smiles. “Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want to.” 
His other hand joins in and he feels over her face - an action he has done several times. But, to see what he’s felt, elates him. It’s almost terrifying how strong the notion is. Her eyes remain close as he traces over her cheeks and down her nose then all the way to her jawline and lips. 
“I hope I’m what you were expecting.” She whispers, her brows knitting together as she slowly opens her eyes.
He smiles as he tucks away the wild hairs framing her face, “More than I could’ve ever imagined.”
The light begins to fade away and they’re soon swathed in a darkness he’s all too familiar with. He’s amazed he’s still able to somewhat see. Hogwarts illuminates in a soft glow and a sense of coziness strikes him. She leans closer to him, resting her hand on his chest.
“Lay with me.” She whispers while she pushes him back towards the ground. 
He lets her push him, falling back onto the cold stone beneath them. He watches her as she tucks herself next to him and she faces up towards the sky. Her eyes shift towards him and she laughs.
“Look up.”
She stares at him as he obeys her command. The sky is no longer a bright blue, but a darker, far richer shade. But what catches his eyes are the shimmering dots which twinkle in various prismatic colors. A gasp leaves him and she giggles.
“Those are the stars. And over there is the moon.” She points in front of them and he follows her finger towards the most breathtaking thing. The moon, once described to him as silver, seems almost unreal as it hovers in the night sky. Its light is cold compared to the sun and he finds himself in awe at its majesty.
“It’s all so beautiful.” He whispers while he hugs her closer to him.
Something shifts within him. He lets out a gasp then looks at his hand. His fingers and knuckles are shifting before his very eyes. 
“No. No, not yet.” He curses. 
She’s about to question what’s wrong when her eyes widen, “Ominis. Your hair. It’s… the potion.” 
He sits up - her doing the same- and he looks around. He doesn’t want this to end, but already the darkness is beginning to cloud his vision. He looks to her, pulling her close to him. He cups both sides of her cheeks and she holds him closer. 
She smiles as she says, “I love you, Ominis.” 
Seeing her lips move, the genuineness in her expression, and the softness in her gaze sends him careening. He stares at her, taking in every little piece of her, while the darkness consumes more and more. 
Then, she’s gone. 
He lets out a shaky breath and a coldness seeps into him. He’s still - unable to move. 
When she presses her forehead to his, he can no longer contain himself. Tears stream down his cheeks and she’s quick to embrace him, holding his head into the crook of her neck as he sobs. She strokes down his back while her other hand soothes his hair. There’s a whirlwind of emotion raging through him and he doesn’t know how to calm himself down. He’s thankful she’s not chastising him for acting this way - so pathetic and broken. Her gentle movements ground him from fully sinking into the numbing coldness which threatens to drag him deeper into an endless abyss. 
She whispers soft words, but he’s so lost he doesn’t understand what she’s saying. All he can notice is how warm she is and how tightly she holds him. Never once letting him go.
The chaos slowly quells and he’s exhausted himself. 
“I’m sorry.” His voice is hoarse and quiet. “I-I should have better control over myself. I-I didn’t anticipate how-, how much I-,” 
“It’s okay, Ominis.” She kisses his temple. “It’s okay.” 
She kisses his tear-stained cheek then the corner of his lips. He’s practically ravenous as he hooks his fingers into her hair to guide her into a searing kiss. A whimper escapes him at the rawness of her lips against his. When she parts, he opens his eyes in hopes he would catch just a faint glimpse of her. 
But no… all he has left is the memory of today. The vibrancy of the world and the breathtaking beauty she possesses. 
He sighs, “There’s a part of me that wishes I could do this everyday.” He pauses, brushing the tip of his nose against hers and tangling his fingers further into her hair. “But, another part is glad to be back in my own skin.”
She lets out a soft hum of agreement, “I very much like you being back. It was quite odd having to hold Sebastian’s hand today.” 
He laughs, “I can imagine.” 
“I do love you, Ominis. All parts of you.” She says. 
His throat tightens, but he’s done shedding tears. He brings her into a much softer kiss this time then he whispers, “I love you, too.” 
The words feel lacking. They aren’t enough to convey the strong feelings he has for her. But, how else could he describe the way she makes him feel. How else could he even come close to explaining that she is so very precious and dear to him. So, he settles with what he can for now.
“We should head back. We’ll have to sneak into the kitchens if we’re to get any sort of dinner tonight.” 
“We should get Sebastian as well. I’m sure he’s dying to leave the confines of the Undercroft by now. Although, maybe it’s good for him to be locked away for a while.” Ominis muses with a slight smirk.
She giggles, “Certainly keeps him out of trouble.” 
They head back to the castle with her practically glued to his side as she explains all the questions he has about the things he saw today. His fingers occasionally twisting the soft fabric of the scarf draped across his neck. He smiles as he knows exactly what color it is.
==================================
It’s not until the next day when the rumors around the school finally reach Sebastian that he corners Ominis just before Charms class. 
“What’s this about ‘me’ flying a bloody Hippogriff over the school yesterday?” 
Ominis can only smirk in response. 
----------------------------------------
AN: Bruh i just can't help myself but add some flying INTO EVERYTHING!! I HAVE A PROBLEM! Like, when I saw the scene of Dany and Jon in GoT doing their dragon flight when i was searching for music, i just knew i had to do it here. LOL i even went flying around the world in game trying to find the best route as well.
You can find the plateau where this takes place below by the Merlin Trail:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
and here's my horrible, low quality, sunset pic via the pic i took of my tv from my phone lollll.
Anyways, I really wanted to capture the thought of Ominis not having a clue what the heck colors are and most def not being able to understand certain more obscure facial expressions (like suspicion). And I really liked the idea of leaving the Fifth Year in the dark about the Polyjuice Potion... idk why. i just thought it was fun LOL.
Hopefully it wasn't too weird about her holding his hand as 'Sebastian' but I was going for the 'yeah she's figured out it's ominis' type vibe. idk hopefully that's conveyed
Thanks again for reading! Feedback always appreciated <3
1K notes · View notes
gimmethatagustd · 2 years
Text
wanna make a movie | kth
Tumblr media
The one time you fucked Taehyung was a fluke, and it will never happen ever again in a million years. Never ever ever. Right? RIGHT??
» pairing: taehyung x reader (from "wanna fuck on camera")
» genre: BTS | 18+ | frenemies to lovers | smut | a bit of fluff kinda
» wc/date: 3.7k | september 2022
» warnings: i meannn they're making a sex tape soooo | cunnilingus | unprotected vaginal sex | fingering | tae's pull out game strong 💪🏽 | cumshot | tae is Annoying but Hot | i definitely didn't edit this LOL SORRY
» notes: shoutout to this person for the video, we owe them big time 🤪 i recommend reading "wanna fuck on camera" first, but this can work as a standalone
» masterlist | ao3 | send me ur thots 👅
» what was jai listening to? movie star - cix
Tumblr media
The Wannabe-Photographer Chronicles (mini-series) Masterlist
Tumblr media
“I already told you I’m not posing for nudes, asshole. Is the one you took of me not enough for you? Hmm?”
Taehyung grinned as he popped out the flip screen on his camera. “I don’t want to take photos of you. I want to film you.”
He was such a piece of shit. He really was. Since your ridiculous entanglement with Taehyung during Hoseok’s birthday party, Taehyung hadn’t left you alone. It was worse than before; he suddenly believed fucking him gave him a free pass to get on your nerves even more than he had to begin with. 
You hated it and you hated him. That was all there was to it. 
Crossing your arms against your chest, you glared at the man as he fiddled with the camcorder. This was infinitely worse than the film camera debacle. You didn’t even want to consider what he’d done with the photo of you cumming on his fingers. The thought of him having it made you shiver. 
“Film me doing what?” You immediately regretted the question when it left your lips and Taehyung’s eyebrows shot up. The smug, shit-eating grin on his face was almost unbearable. 
“Well, babe-” 
“Do not call me that.” 
“Well, Y/N.” He gave you a pointed look. “I need to diversify my portfolio and the only thing I’m missing is erotic art.” 
You scoffed and crossed your legs. At this point, you were a pretzel sitting on the edge of Taehyung’s couch. “You’re disgusting.” 
“Thank you,” he said with a sweet smile. “But I promise what I have planned isn’t as ‘disgusting’ as you probably think.” 
You didn’t trust him for shit, but you liked the idea of hearing what he had to say even if only to shut him down. You were looking for every reason to shit on his massive ego, maybe because you were embarrassed that you gave in to him when you said you wouldn’t. 
It was a fluke, though. A moment of bad judgment. You were thinking with your pussy. But not anymore. Nope. 
Fool me once, shame on you.
“What are your twisted little plans then, TaTa?” You shifted slightly when Taehyung moved to sit down next to you on the couch, forcing you up against the arm of the couch and giving you very little room. 
“Have you ever done a striptease before?” 
“I fucking told you I am not doing nudes.” 
Taehyung swiftly grabbed your jaw and turned your head to face him. The forced action made you gasp quietly, just enough to release a breathy sound when you exhaled. He watched you for a moment with the tip of his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek. “Fucking listen to me, yeah?” 
You could do nothing but nod, your eyes glued to his parted lips. 
“I don’t need you to be naked. I just need some shots of you taking off your clothes.” You opened your mouth to protest, but Taehyung squeezed your jaw tighter. “Headless shots, okay? Nothing identifiable. No nudity. Think of it as like an OnlyFans teaser, but make it hipster. Slap on a grainy, sepia filter. Or maybe a soft pink glow. I haven’t decided yet.” 
You were barely listening to him, most of your focus on how his hand had slowly let go of your face and migrated down to your throat. Your heartbeat spiked beneath his fingers. 
“Why are you asking me to do this?” 
Taehyung pulled away and returned to examining his camera settings. “Everyone I know who’d be down to do this would try to fuck me. Considering the theme, and everything. It would be so distracting.” He looked up at you through his fluffy bangs with a sparkle of mischief in his eyes. “You’re hot and would never fuck me, as you’ve made very clear.” He paused for a moment, tapping his finger against his lips. “Well, not a second time.” 
And there was that stupid fucking boxy grin again. 
“Oh shut the fuck up.” You were tired of playing games. “How much are you going to pay me?” 
“Depends on how good the shots are.” 
“Whatever. Let’s get this over with,” you huffed. 
Taehyung hummed in acknowledgment but didn’t make a move to get up. His fingers brushed along the outside of your thigh until he reached the waistband of your leggings. You fought the urge to squirm in your seat, instead doing your best to mindfully breathe and keep your fists squeezed against the couch cushions. 
“What are you wearing under here?” 
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You challenged him through gritted teeth. 
Taehyung leaned forward until his breath caressed the side of your face. “I’m about to find out.” 
With that, Taehyung stood up and held his hand out for you to take. You swatted him away, perfectly capable of getting up on your own and following him into his bedroom. To say his bedroom looked like a porno setup was no exaggeration. A large studio light stood in the corner, the head pointed toward the bed. Another camera sat on a tripod on the opposite side of the room, though it was pointed away from the bed. LED lights wrapped around the high ceilings cast the room a soft lavender glow. 
“Are you kidding me?” You stood in the doorway with your hands on your hips. 
Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Do you see how small my apartment is? I have nowhere else to store my equipment when I’m not using it. Relax and come here.” 
Grabbing you by the shoulders, Taehyung positioned you in front of a standing mirror that stood against the wall directly across from his bed. He took a step back to examine your placement, making a few adjustments until he got you where he wanted you. 
“Satisfied?” Your skin was tingling from his firm touch as he shuffled you around. It was just your body reacting to skin-on-skin contact. That was all. It was just… nature. Science. Whatever. 
“Very,” he said with a wink that you did a poor job of brushing off. The burning heat of embarrassment creeping up your body only intensified as you watched Taehyung sit at the foot of his bed. With his camcorder in hand, he leaned back far enough to get the angle he wanted. It was harmless, really. He was just a struggling artist trying to make his mark in the world, that’s all. And you were half-heartedly helping him. 
So if that was the case, why was watching Taehyung’s biceps flex as he held the camera and his thighs spread making you wet? 
You cleared your throat and looked away from the man splayed out on his bed like he was the one being filmed, not you. “What am I supposed to do now?” 
Taehyung reached up to run his fingers through his hair and flip his bangs to the side. All you could think about was how you knew tugging on those wavy strands would make him moan. 
“Start with your shirt. Wait, no, not like that.”
You had one arm out and froze. “Like what?” 
“Do it sexier.” 
“What the fuck does that mean?” 
“Oh, come on. Stop relying on that silver tongue and seduce me.”
Was it possible to feel like all your blood had drained out of your body and that all the blood in your body had gone to your head? 
“Fine,” you snapped, readjusting your shirt. The positive side to all of this was that as you slowly lifted your shirt over your head, you could revel in the fact that you knew Taehyung wanted you and he could never have you. 
Well, never again. 
But maybe that made it even better. He got a taste and you were denying him more. You had all the fucking power! 
You put in a little more effort to be sensual as you let your shirt fall to the floor. The red lace bra you wore lifted up a bit, exposing the underside of your tits, but you didn’t move to fix it like you normally would. Instead, you ran your hands over your exposed skin, even your own light touches causing goosebumps to form all over. It didn’t help that it was cold in Taehyung’s apartment. You wondered how high quality his camera was. If it was even half decent, it would pick up on how see-through the fabric was over your tits. It left little for the imagination, but Taehyung had already had your nipples in his mouth. 
The little asshole was leaned back again, shifting slightly to capture your best angles as you reached for the waistband of your leggings. You made the mistake of looking at his face rather than the camera lens. His tongue swept over his bottom lip as you slid your leggings down; you quickly looked away. 
This was just a favor. A favor for an art project. That was it. 
Bending at the waist meant you exposed the fact that you were wearing a rather skimpy thong - red lace, just like your bra. Adjusting your stance made your thighs rub together and you fought the urge to look down for fear that your underwear would be stained a dark red from how wet you were. 
A quiet groan from the bed made you look up at your photographer once again. His bottom lip was bitten between his teeth, but he immediately released it when he saw you looking. The two of you locked eyes as your bodies froze. 
“Why are you fucking wearing red lace?” 
You opened your mouth to speak but your brain couldn’t think of any response aside from the truth. And there was no way you were telling him the truth. There was no way you were telling Taehyung that you’d worn a matching set just in case something happened. Because nothing was supposed to happen.
Instead, you deflected. 
“Why are you hard right now?” 
You both looked down at the very prominent bulge that had grown in Taehyung’s jeans. He used his free hand to palm his cock and attempt to adjust it into a more comfortable position. 
“Why are you wet right now?” 
Now it was your turn. You finally dared to look at yourself, not surprised but still horrified to find your arousal soaking through the flimsy material of your thong. 
Taehyung lifted slightly so he was propped up on his elbows, the camera still positioned on you. You really prayed he wasn’t planning to use any audio for this video. Like as if that’s what mattered at the moment. 
“You’re so into this,” he said smugly. 
“No, I’m not.” Your rebuttal was weak, so weak it felt foreign coming from someone with a “silver tongue” like you. But when you watched Taehyung get up from the bed, your rebuttal wasn’t the only thing about you that was weak. 
“You’re not?” Taehyung pointed the camera toward your thighs as he reached down to press his thumb against your clit through your thong. You let out a shaky moan and felt more of your arousal soak your thong. “Sounds like you are. Feels like you are.” Taehyung fully palmed your pussy, pressing his fingers against your entrance. The action made your legs tremble and you squeezed his bicep for support. 
“Fuck you,” you hissed and dug your nails into his skin. 
“Heard that one before.” He shot you a wink. “And to think you got mad about the photo I took of you. If I’d known you’d get this wet for me so quickly, I would have brought this with me instead.” 
His taunting reminded you of the camcorder he still held in his hand. It was pointed downward as Taehyung hooked his finger into the waistband of your thong and pulled it down just enough for his fingers to dip inside your wet folds. 
“Taehyung,” you moaned when he thrust two fingers inside of you. The squelching sound your pussy made was sure to have been picked up by the camera. 
“Yeah, baby? You like that?” He pressed hard into your front wall repeatedly, the fluttering sensation making you reach for his shoulder with your other hand to stabilize yourself. “Like being my little movie star?” 
You wanted to cry when he pulled his fingers out of you, and your entire body shuddered when you felt him wipe his fingers on the inside of your thigh. The worry that he was only going to tease you to rub the whole thing in your face flashed into your mind, but it was quickly squashed once Taehyung was pressing the camera into your hands. 
“Like this.” He positioned you to point the camera downwards. 
“Wha-” 
Ignoring your confusion, Taehyung dropped to his knees, dragging your thong down your thighs as he went. The camera shook in your hands as he threw one of your legs over his shoulder. You could have came just from the way he looked up at you from between your thighs. How many times had you imagined this moment? More than you were willing to admit. And for all the fantasizing, you were lucky that it was even better than what you could have come up with on your own. He brushed his bangs out of the way and tilted his head so you had a clear view of his face as he ran his tongue flat against your lips. 
“Oh fuck,” you moaned. 
Taehyung reached up to grab your hand, stabilizing the camera. “Hold still for me, okay baby? You gotta hold still.” When he spoke his lips brushed against your skin, causing your arousal to stick in thin strings to his glistening mouth. 
Once your shaking subsided, Taehyung’s hands slid down to grab your ass. With his grip on you tight, he pulled you against his mouth. A hard suck to your clit made your hands tremble. By the time Taehyung began swirling the tip of his tongue around your clit in tight circles, you were shaking again. He had to reach up to hold your hand to stabilize the camera again. 
“I-I-I can’t,” you began to sob and shake your head. You had to wrap your fingers in Taehyung’s waves to focus the pressure of your building orgasm into something other than squeezing the fuck out of the camera in your other hand. Of course, each tug of his hair made Taehyung’s lovely baritone voice moan into your pussy, the vibrations pulsing through every nerve in your body. 
“Yes, you can.” The words came out breathy and hoarse in between hard sucks and kitten licks against your clit. You were close to believing in his faith in you until he slipped two fingers into your soaked pussy. 
“I’m…” You paused to suck in a deep breath as he pumped a mind-numbingly fast rhythm against your g-spot, “I’m gonna fall over.” 
“Nuhh uhh.” Taehyung scooted forward, pushing you backward until your back hit the mirror. 
You leaned against the mirror for support as your orgasm ripped through you so violently you would have dropped the camcorder if it weren’t for Taehyung holding it up with you. He kept his eyes focused on you as he licked one final stripe up your lips, cleaning up your arousal until he was the one messy with it all over his face. 
“God, I wish you’d let me record your face when you cum,” Taehyung groaned into the back of his hand as he wiped his mouth. He reached out to take the camera from you and laughed at the way your hands shook. “You have no idea how fucking beautiful you look.”
You should have been upset. Taehyung now had footage of himself eating your pussy. Sure, no one would be able to tell that it was you, but still… That was something very intimate. 
Yet you couldn’t deny the way your heart fluttered when he’d called you his movie star. Hearing “beautiful” come tumbling from his filthy lips wasn’t too bad, either. 
“No chance in hell, creep.” You crossed your arms against your chest to punctuate the statement. You didn’t have a chance to say anything more; Taehyung quickly shut you up with his lips slotted against yours. You allowed him to lick at your mouth and swirled your tongue against his, humming at the taste of yourself on him. 
“Always so difficult.” He tossed the accusation at you as he pulled away. Using his free arm, Taehyung scooped you over his shoulder. “Y’know, the meaner you are to me the more I want to rearrange your guts.” 
You let out a gag as Taehyung tossed you onto the bed, bouncing into place in the middle. “You did not just say that.” Whatever else you wanted to insult him over died on your lips as you watched Taehyung strip. 
“Come on, Director. Take a video. It’ll last longer.” 
He gestured to the camera still recording as he unbuttoned his jeans, his taunting parallel to how harsh you’d been to him at Hoseok’s party. You were mean to him, but only because he could take it. And maybe, just maybe, you had the hots for getting him riled up, just as he did for you. 
It felt unbelievably dirty recording Taehyung as he stood at the end of the bed with his thumb rolling precum around the tip of his cock, but something about it made your pussy flutter to life once again. It didn’t help that he shot the camera a wink as he did one final pump before he was kneeling on the bed in front of you. 
“Turn around,” he commanded, twirling his finger around to direct you. 
“I liked you better when you were crying and begging for me like a good boy.” 
You glowered at him as you turned around. Taehyung’s hand quickly came down to press down your back, forcing your upper body into the mattress and keeping you on your knees. He spread you out as far as he could, the mattress muffling a groan when you felt him hook a finger in your pussy just to make you shake. 
“I can still be a good boy for you like this,” he whispered against your skin as he bent down to kiss along your spine. You shivered in response, biting your tongue to keep in your moans as you felt Taehyung swish his cock around your slickness. “But since you don’t want me documenting your gorgeous face, your fat ass will have to do.” 
Before you could snort another insult towards his disgusting behavior, Taehyung sunk his cock so slowly you could hear the gushing sound when he bottomed out. 
“Fuck, you sound so good, fuck.” Taehyung moaned as he began thrusting into you, each wet slap of his hips colliding with your ass fueling his desire to speed up. 
You twisted around to watch him lift the camcorder to the perfect angle to capture the way your pussy sucked him in with ease, each pullback evidence of how tightly you gripped him. Throwing your dignity to the wind, you decided to play the part. Hooking your legs with his, you ground against him as he thrust into you, forcing your bodies against each other even harder as you established an equal rhythm. 
“Shit, just like that,” Taehyung moaned, removing his hand from your waist and leaning back slightly to let you take over. “Fuck yourself on my cock, baby. Fuck, yes.” 
“Touch me, Tae.” As much as it was a moan, it was most definitely a demand. 
And like the good boy he promised to be, Taehyung quickly brought his free hand around to play with your clit. The stimulation was enough to push you over the edge a second time, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t purposefully scream a little bit louder than necessary just because you were on camera now. If Taehyung knew, he seemed to not care. 
If anything, it made him even more vocal. And maybe he was putting on his own show because instead of releasing inside of you, he quickly pulled out of you to pump his cum all over your ass. 
“Y/N…” Taehyung slowly got up from the bed to get a washcloth to clean you off. You tilted your head to watch him, smug with the satisfaction of seeing that he wobbled a little bit as he walked. Even his hands shook when he worked to clean you up. 
“What?” You sat up once he was done, wincing at the slight ache of your thighs from how hard he’d pounded into you. 
Taehyung sat on the edge of the bed with the dazed look of a man who’d just gotten the soul fucked out of him. “I think I’m in love with you.” 
You snorted, but Taehyung leaned forward to cup your face. 
“I’m so serious right now.” 
“You’re just fucked out.” 
Taehyung pouted, eyebrows deeply creased. “This is post-nut clarity. I know what I’m about.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at the seriousness of his expression, especially as he sat with his softening cock and his messy hair, cheeks and lips still pink. It was so unbelievably endearing and you fucking hated it. 
“This isn’t funny, Y/N.” 
All along, your (alleged) goal was to damage Taehyung’s ego. And now that you had the opportunity to, the little creep was tugging at your heartstrings in a way you hadn’t expected at all. 
“You don’t have to love me back,” he said with a sigh. “I just needed to get it off my chest.” 
Reaching for his hair, you tugged Taehyung mid-moan into a slow kiss that meant less about being sexy and more about taking away the stressed look on his face. Your fingers skirted along his jaw, holding him in place as you deepened the kiss. 
“You’re an asshole, you know that?” You kept a hold of his hair even after you broke the kiss. 
“Yes, thank you.” Taehyung grinned and you felt your stomach flutter once again. 
Pulling him close, you pressed your lips against the crook of Taehyung’s neck. The feeling of his strong arms holding you close made you tremble. “You’re lucky I’m into guys who are assholes.”
Maybe it wasn’t the “I love you” someone else would expect, but Taehyung understood you better than you knew.
Tumblr media
The Wannabe-Photographer Chronicles (mini-series) Masterlist
Tumblr media
all rights reserved © gimmethatagustd on tumblr & ao3
do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work  
@taegiblr @aislinnstanaka @bbtsficrecs @coffeebooksandromantics @confusedbansheee @ekjalxd @fan-ati--c @furryfortae @haliiimede @highly-functioning-mitochondria @jeanjacketjesus @jjkeverlast @jlm-ykhw @jwlmnbt @klitklittredge @koobsessed @lemonadecandycandy @mishahs @miss-jupiter @moonchild1 @moonleeai @nch327 @nonbinary-demonbrat @notbotheredtho @notsooperfect @parkdatjimin @polipiper @reliablemitten @rjsmochii @saweetspoiled @seoul-soul-127 @stillinedwardcullenera @sugarwithtea @unsureofwhathappens @veronawrites @wobblewobble822 @xjoonchildx @yoongukie-ff @yu-justme @taerifin
2K notes · View notes
freelancearsonist · 16 days
Text
Tumblr media
there are 4,000 of you here now???? this is crazy to me????
i am so so so so eternally grateful to each and every one of you. i wish i could personally thank each of you, i'm giving everyone a massive virtual hug 🫂
i don't want to get too sappy but being here brings me so much joy and i'm so glad that so many of you enjoy my silly little stories. ily all <3
in celebration i'm going to be holding a week-long event! it's all movie themed because 4k (i think i'm clever). the event will last one week (may 27-june 3), and you're welcome to send in as many as you want on or off anon! (please send separate asks for each prompt so i can keep them organized ☺️)
✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧
🎙️ // send in a character and i'll make you a ten-song playlist for ✧vibes✧
🎞️ // let's celebrate the community! send in a shoutout for yourself/your own fic or your favorite writer/favorite fic!
🎥 // send in a character and i'll give you a sneak peek of what i have in my wips/ideas folder for them.
🎬 // for the friends and mutuals i've made along the way, send this one in and i'll tell you which character i most ship you with and why.
📸 // send in and i'll make you a random moodboard from my pinterest dashboard.
send in your emoji here :)
✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧
no pressure tagging some of my lovely mutuals (pls ignore me if you’re not interested) <3
@writefightandflightclub @moonknightly @ineffablepspspscal @mattmurdocksscars @joelsgreys @chronically-ghosted @ezrasbirdie @swiftispunk @beskarandblasters @sp00kymulderr @schnarfer @wannab-urs @joelsgreys @mrsmando @covetyou @morallyinept @perotovar @mothandpidgeon @cavillscurls @pedroshotwifey @strang3lov3 @goodwithcheese @ozarkthedog @bitchwitch1981 @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @sin-djarin @futuraa-free @janaispunk @fettuccin-e @missredherring @party-hearses @kedsandtubesocks @hellishjoel @endlessthxxghts @penvisions @fairycoreboyloser @syd-djarin @qveerthe0ry @magpiepills @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @bitchesuntitled @joelmillerisapunk @julesonrecord @toomanytookas @survivingandenduring @pedgito @thesluttylittleknee @rosellacwrites @catchallfangirl @chaotic-mystery
94 notes · View notes
daisyvisions · 5 months
Text
Unspoken Words (Pt. 1)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Pairing: best friend!Sangyeon x afab!reader x enemy!Hyunjae
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Summary: If someone were to tell you that you'd be in a fake relationship with the person you despise the most just to make your best friend jealous, you would've laughed in their face. But here you are... caught up in this exact situation.
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Word Count: 4.2K
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Warnings: (18+, minors DNI), fake dating, mutual pining, angst, jealousy, lots of suggestive themes such as: mention of a handjob and orgasm, groping, and fondling with breasts. Mentions of alcohol. Some cursing, lots of kissing and making out, eventual smut in part two. One use of the pet name “baby”. Implied sex and loss of virginity. Lots of time skipping. Let me know if I missed anything! Proofread twice.
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. A/N: And just in the nick of time I’ve managed to write out my Secret Santa exchange gift. This one’s for you baby girl @winterchimez / @midnightfantasiez. You nearly sniffed out that it was me writing for you so I had to deviate and lie to you for a moment so sorry about that huhu anyway! A true blessing that you happen to be my recipient because we both love sangmil. A two-part mini series because I just love to keep you on your toes 😈 Hope you enjoy this gift! Thank you so much for your friendship and all the fun moments shared! Special shoutout to @momhwa-agenda / @aimeecarreros for being my accomplice hehe. Finally a sangmil fic has made its debut on the blog!
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Network: @deoboyznet
Tumblr media
You never should’ve gone to this stupid spring dance.
The thought in your mind repeating like a broken record as you try to hug yourself from the cold air outside the gymnasium. Tears running down your face as you stare off into the ground trying not to remember the reason why you suddenly ran out of the venue to begin with.
It wasn’t always like this. You were once very content with how things were going on in your life.
With the semester almost ending and all your mid-term grades just enough to pass, you couldn’t wait to celebrate surviving your last year of college with this one magical night. Especially with your best friend Sangyeon by your side.
Right… best friend.
The same best friend that had been ignoring you for the last two months or so (not that you were counting of course). Your mind races as you try to figure out for the nth time what even started this whole issue between you two.
All you could think back to was the beginning of his odd behavior, which started the week after your birthday. At first you thought Sangyeon was just busy with extracurriculars, which was often the case since he was part of numerous clubs and volunteer work.
But then things started to feel off as soon as he would ignore your calls, take too long to reply to texts, hearing from other friends he was just at home when he told you he was “fully booked” to hang out. It was like he was trying to come up with every excuse in the book just to not see your face.
Was he trying to hide something from you perhaps? That idea immediately disappeared as soon as you accidentally overheard his conversation with Haknyeon that one time you were all hanging out at Eric’s apartment.
“What?! You’re not gonna ask her to the spring dance?” You hear Haknyeon’s surprised tone.
“Of course not.” Sangyeon scoffs. “Why would I want to bring her? We’re just friends after all.”
You felt a sudden pang in your heart. Tears threatening to fall down as Sangyeon’s words bore deep holes within your soul. After everything you’ve been through together, this is how he thinks of you?
It shouldn’t have been that deep honestly, but with him ignoring you for the past couple of weeks and remembering the promise you made with each other to go together to the spring dance? It really fucking hurt you. Especially when you and Sangyeon had been by each other’s side since you first met three years ago at your freshman orientation. Instantly hitting it off like two peas in a pod and the rest was history.
Somewhere down the line, you knew you had some sort of feelings for him. Who wouldn’t?
With a smile that can cure any bad feeling you had, how he always took care of you first, the lingering hugs before you had to part ways at the end of the day, the way he would remember even the most insignificant details of a story you were rambling about, and made sure to always message you good night and good morning… He was the dream guy for you.
And even if you had moments wherein you thought he might’ve felt the same way, you didn’t want to sacrifice the strong bond you had with him over a stupid little crush. You just settled with the idea of just staying in the friend zone and not dare to cross any lines with him. Burying any what could’ves and everything else in-between.
Maybe that’s why Sangyeon distancing himself from you hurt more than it should’ve honestly.
So when you were seated at your table during the dance and saw Sangyeon entering the room with his date wrapping her arm around his, you felt massive sting in your chest.
That should’ve been you. It should've been you spending this night with him instead of whoever was currently by his side.
You thought you could go through the night just by avoiding your gaze their table, but the way Sangyeon smiled at his date and at everyone else like nothing was wrong, but his face slightly faltering as he quickly glanced your way, you just had to get out of there before things went downhill.
Your teeth were chattering from the cold air breezing against your exposed skin, nose sniffling and hands wiping whatever tears were leaving marks on your face. Suddenly, a pair of shoes enter your line of vision while your eyes were still glued to the ground.
“You shouldn’t be out here, it’s freezing.” The familiar voice tells you.
As soon as you look up, you find Hyunjae staring down at you. One of his eyebrows slightly raised as he wonders what has gotten you into this depressed state on a special night like this.
“Laugh it up Hyunjae, isn’t this what you’ve always wanted? To see me cry?” You look up at him for a moment with your tear-stained face before looking back down at your feet.
Before you could even continue feeling sorry for yourself, Hyunjae sighs and squats down, his face now at the same level as yours. You feel his fingers lift your chin and gently tap the tears away from your cheeks with his handkerchief. Your eyes widen as he leans in closer, making sure not to ruin your makeup in the process.
“W-what are you doing?” you stutter.
“Pretty girls like you shouldn’t be crying.” He nonchalantly replies.
You’re too stunned to speak at his comment. As far as you know, Hyunjae has been nothing but a pain in your ass ever since he accidentally bumped into you in the hallway causing your diorama to break into tiny pieces as it fell to the ground.
Since then, you wrote him off as your sworn enemy. Always finding ways to annoy the hell out of you and get you to react to his antics, making side comments to one another, and his constant teasing that made you want to rip your hair off.
So no, never in your wildest dreams would you hear such a comment coming out of Hyunjae’s mouth.
“Hello?” Hyunjae waves his hand in front of you.
“What?” You shook your head as you were too distracted from hearing the question he had asked you.
“I said, do you wanna get out of here or what?” He sighs as he lends his hand out for you to grab. You hesitate at first. In any normal situation, you would never even let Hyunjae get as close as he did just now, let alone go somewhere with him.
But what the hell… Anywhere is better than here.
Tumblr media
“So… who’s the lucky guy that has you bawling your eyes out? It’s obviously not me.” Hyunjae smirks. You had found yourself seated by the bar, eating french fries as you waited for your drinks to arrive.
“It’s uh- It’s a little complicated.” You try to avoid his eyes.
“Trouble in paradise?” Hyunjae pops a fry into his mouth waiting for your answer. Your eyes widen at his suggestion, knowing who he was referring to.
“What? No! I mean- We were never together if that’s what you’re thinking.” You sigh before carefully explaining to him the whole situation you were currently in with Sangyeon. Hyunjae intently looks into your eyes as you tell your side of the story.
“Huh…” Hyunjae takes a sip of his beer.
“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?” You look at him as he drinks, trying to not to dwell too much at the way his neck looks flexed under the dim light.
“You’re really impatient you know that?” He chuckles before taking another sip. “I was about to tell you an idea I just thought of.”
“Yeah? Let’s hear it then.” You take a sip of your cocktail this time.
“What if you make him jealous? Like really jealous.” Hyunjae suggests.
“Pass. First of all, I don’t think he likes me that way. And second, who the hell would he even be jealous of? Sangyeon hardly gets jealous by anything.” You squint at him. What a silly idea.
“No c’mon. Trust me, he’ll be jealous alright. Especially when it comes to you.” He eyes you up and down subtly.
“What does that even me-” Before you could even finish your sentence you spot behind Hyunjae a group of students dressed in formal attire entering the bar. And like a moth to a flame, you immediately spot Sangyeon and his date amongst the group.
Hyunjae turns around to see what had been the cause of your panic, his eyes immediately spotting Sangyeon from a distance as well. And as soon as Sangyeon had a puzzled look on his face he knew that Sangyeon had spotted the two of you by the bar, wondering what the hell were you doing with Hyunjae of all people.
You hop off the bar stool, attempting to run away like you did during the dance, but you suddenly feel a hand gently grab you by the arm and pull you back before you could even make a run for it.
“C’mere.” Hyunjae asks.
“Wha-”
“Just follow my lead.” He whispers in your ear.
And before you know it, you feel Hyunjae lips pressed against yours. His hands cupping your face before sliding down to your waist, pulling you closer to him. It takes a moment for your brain to process what’s going on, but your body responds faster by wrapping your arms around Hyunjae’s neck and deepening the kiss.
The way his lips perfectly mold against yours, how soft they feel as his hands squeeze your waist. The little groan he lets out as you slip your tongue inside his mouth, tasting the beer he had drank as your fingers run through his hair.
You nearly moan with how he slowly but expertly moves his mouth against yours. As if he’s taking to memory what your lips feel like in case this moment would never happen again. Both you and Hyunjae nearly forget you’re practically sucking each other’s faces off in public, which was surprising considering the nature of your relationship with one another.
No one could even tell the two of you despised the other as you held each other like lovers.
None of you see it, but the way Sangyeon looks at both of you right now is as if he wants to throw daggers at Hyunjae from across the room. Witnessing the both of you passionately kissing each other makes his stomach churn, a feeling he has never felt before. So many questions run in his head as he continues to watch from afar.
Before he even tries to take a step towards your direction, he sees you both pull away from one another. Hyunjae whispering something in your ear as you look too stunned to speak before taking out his wallet, pulling out cash and settling it on the table before whisking you away out of the bar.
Sangyeon really should’ve brought you to the spring dance like he promised… because not only does he feel like an asshole, but a jealous one at that.
Tumblr media
The car ride on the way to your house was incredibly silent, as if what had happened between you and Hyunjae was just your imagination. Except it wasn’t. You could still feel his lips lingering on yours as you try to lean your head against the window and looking at anything passing by.
You’re broken from your trance as you hear Hyunjae’s door closing and his figure making its way to your side of the car. He lends out his hand for you to grab once again, helping you get out of the car and walk you to the front of your apartment.
“So… I’ll see you around?” Hyunjae smiles awkwardly says as he puts both his hands in his pockets.
“Hyunjae, wait-” You grab his elbow as he’s about to turn around.
“Hm?” He raises one eyebrow.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this but-” You huff in-between, “let’s go with your plan.” You watch the little mischievous smirk appear on Hyunjae’s lips.
“If you just wanted to make out some more you could’ve just asked.” He teases. You’re about to slap him on the arm but he catches your hand and holds it tight.
“I’m kidding! Just… Let me know when and what time we can talk about it more alright?” He squeezes your hand gently. You don’t know why but a tiny little butterfly flutters in your stomach as you feel Hyunjae’s thumb subconsciously stroke the back of your hand.
“Okay… Thank you by the way for tonight-” you tiptoe a bit to hold Hyunjae’s cheek and leave a light peck on his lips. He’s caught off guard by your action, almost leaning forward some more to continue kissing you but you pull away quick enough before he does.
“Y-yeah, sure. Anytime.” Thank god it’s night time he thinks, otherwise you would've easily spotted the redness flaring in his ears and made fun of him for it.
“Call me okay?” He squeezes your hand once more before letting go and walking back to his car. You watch him drive off before heading up to your apartment, leaning against the front door and letting out one big sigh of relief.
“What the hell did I get myself into?”
Tumblr media
“If you really want this to work, we have to set a few ground rules.” Hyunjae he pulls out a pen and paper from his bag, immediately writing down a numbered list for you both to fill out.
“Rule one- if one of us wants to stop this thing at any given moment, the contract will end.” Hyunjae says as he writes it down.
“Hmm.. what about rule two- if any of us catch some sort of feelings for one another, the contract is immediately terminated” You add. Hyunjae scoffs at the idea.
“Catch feelings? Seriously?” He looks up at you with a smirk. “Is there something you’ve been meaning to tell me this whole time?” He continues to tease.
“I’m serious! It’s only gonna get complicated for us to execute this plan if feelings are involved. Haven’t you seen the movies?” You ask him.
“Fine, you have a point.” He writes down your suggestion earlier.
“Okay, rule three- kisses are a must if you want this thing to work.” He looks at you in the eyes. “And other things couples do.”
You roll your eyes at him, “Fine, but nothing beyond second base please?” You scrunch your face at the thought.
“Oh?” Hyunjae looks at you with a few twinkles in his eyes. “So does that mean I get to play with your-”
“NO! Not that. Like y’know, just waist touching and maybe the occasional touch of the ass. But definitely and absolutely no touching my chest whatsoever.” You point your finger at him. “I'm serious.”
“Alright alright!” Hyunjae raises his hands up in defense. “Anything else you wanna add?”
“Let me see the list again.” You grab the paper from his hands, carefully examining the words written before nodding.
“This looks good. Yeah, I’m fine with this.” You hand the paper back to Hyunjae.
“It’s a deal.” He says as you both shake on it before getting up to part ways.
Before you have a chance to take a step towards where your class is, Hyunjae pulls you into his chest and leaves a kiss on your lips, making you squeal in surprise.
“Sit with me during lunch. We start this today, okay?” Hyunjae reminds you. You nod your head before shyly giving him a kiss on his cheek and walking away to head to your first class of the day.
Tumblr media
Sangyeon could not keep his eyes off you during study period. It had been this way every time you happen to be in the same room as him. You looked beautiful as ever of course but he could feel his blood pressure shooting up every time he would be near you.
Ever since that night he saw you kissing Hyunjae almost two weeks ago, it was like the two of you were everywhere.
He hated the way Hyunjae would always whisper something in your ear and you would laugh at whatever he said. Or the way his hand would find purchase on your lower back. And not to mention the way he would brush any loose hair behind your ear before kissing you goodbye.
It should’ve been him. He should've been the one doing all these things to you. He should've been the guy leaving you all those loving kisses, holding you by your waist, reminding you of how beautiful you look every single chance he got.
If only he was honest with you that night.
Sangyeon’s internal monologuing was cut short when he sees you getting up from your seat and patting Hyunjae on the shoulder before making your way between the bookshelves in the library.
As you slowly search for the book you need for your English paper, your shoulder bumps into a semi hard surface. “Oh! I’m so so-” you whisper but stop mid sentence as the familiar scent of cologne hits your nose.
“Hey….” Sangyeon whispers.
“Uh- Hi.” You back away from him a bit as an awkward silence falls between you two.
“How are things going? We haven’t talked in a while.” He fiddles with his own fingers, trying to think of the next words to say to you.
“Good I guess? Just trying to make it through the semester and stay motivated.” You respond.
“Sure looks like it-” Sangyeon mumbles. But you clearly hear him and scoff at his rudeness.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” You cross your arms against your chest.
“Seriously… Hyunjae? Why him?” He loudly whispers. “You’re better than that.”
“Yeah?” You step a little closer to Sangyeon, closing the gap between you two.
“Well where the fuck have you been huh? Where were you when I needed you?” You match the level of his tone.
“You don’t understand-”
“Then explain it to me then Sangyeon! I’m listening.”
He tries to speak but nothing comes out, panicking that this might be the last chance he could get to explain why he’s been so distant.
“I-uh” His eyes look everywhere else except you.
“Nothing? Thought so.” You push past him, making sure to harshly nudge your shoulder against his.
Sangyeon tries to follow you, but as soon as he steps out between the bookshelves he sees you head out of the library while Hyunjae scrambles to grab all your things from the table and chases after you. He sighs out of frustration combing his hair as he mentally curses at himself.
Oh he really fucked things up didn’t he?
Tumblr media
“And he had the nerve, THE NERVE to tell me I know better. I can’t believe him!” You pace back and forth in your bedroom as you rant to Hyunjae about the events that took place in the library
“I honestly don’t know if I should feel offended or flattered at his little comment about me.” Hyunjae’s eyes follow you as you continue to move around.
“Think about it this way, at least we know the plan is working. Otherwise he wouldn’t have approached you like that.”
“Maybe? Ugh! Why are men so dumb?” You sigh.
“We think with our dicks that’s why. Well… maybe that’s just me.” He smirks, trying to crack a joke to break the tension. His little joke becomes successful when you look back at him and chuckle.
“Forget about him,” Hyunjae adds. “Tonight we drink to celebrate passing yet another exam and watch movies til we fall asleep or you decide to kick me out. Whichever comes first.”
He pours a full glass of wine for each of you as you plop down beside him and get cozy.
“Fine, but I’m picking the movie okay?” You tell him as you open your laptop and search for your favorite comfort movie.
Tumblr media
Hours pass, almost three bottles of wine finished, and the movie long forgotten as you decide to chat with each other about anything and everything instead. It’s been nothing but laughs and mocking each other as you reminisce all the times you pissed each other off and funny stories of one another.
“Oh the look on your face was fucking priceless-” You laugh out loud, trying to catch your breath as you recall one embarrassing moment of Hyunjae.
“Well what the hell was I supposed to do then huh? Tell the professor I was getting a handjob under the table during his class?” His voice raises in defense. “Not my fault she couldn’t resist me.”
“You looked so mortified too holy shit-” You laugh.
“I was nearing a fucking orgasm okay? Then he calls me to the front of the class to write down my answer for the stupid formula. That professor practically edged me!” His cheeks starting to turn even more red as you continue to laugh at him.
“Ow it hurts, wait-” You clutch your stomach from the pain of laughing too much.
“Oh yeah? Let’s see how you like it then-” Hyunjae lunges forward, pulling your arms away to tickle you furiously.
You squeal out his name, trying to push him away while he tackles you. As you try to squirm out of his grip, you don’t even realize the position you’ve gotten yourselves into. Your body caged under his as he grabs your wrists and pins them down at each side of your head.
As the laughter starts to die down, Hyunjae looks down at you with heavy eyelids. You look incredibly pretty under him in this moment, he thinks to himself.
You didn’t even do anything in that moment but it was like he felt so drawn to you. Like you were a siren pulling him in. Your breath hitches as he leans down closer to your face, briefly stopping to search for any sign of consent before fully pressing his lips against yours.
This obviously is not the first time you two have kissed. But for some reason, this kiss felt different than all the other ones. You both kiss each other slowly, lips molding like a perfect dance as his hands let go of your wrist and hold you by your waist instead.
And just like the first time you kissed, you find yourself automatically wrapping your arms around him and running your fingers through his hair, pulling his body closer to yours as kisses travel down from your jaw to the most sensitive part of your neck.
You feel your core blooming in heat as his tongue expertly swirls inside your mouth. How it pulsates for him as you feel his hands go under your shirt, stopping right under your breasts.
You suddenly gasp as his hands start fondling your bra covered chest, gently kneading them as he continues to leave small marks on your sensitive skin with his lips.
A choked moan comes out as you feel his manhood throb against your core, reminding you of the thin layers of clothing, your thin pajama shorts and his sweatpants that stand between you two from crossing any lines.
“Hyunjae, wait-” You try to slowly push him off. His head pulls away to look at your face.
“Oh shit. I’m- fuck sorry no chest stuff-” You see the panic look in his eyes. But before he’s able to pull away, you grab him by the wrists and press his hands deeper into your chest.
A deep groan comes out of his mouth as he squeezes your breasts again, feeling your sensitive buds slowly hardening under your bra.
“No it’s not that. I-” You close your eyes for a moment before swallowing the lump in your throat. You feel your cheeks become warm at what you’re about to confess to him.
"I've never done stuff like this before..." you nervously say.
It takes a few seconds for your words to sink in before Hyunjae looks back at you with widened eyes.
“Oh uh- are you sure? We can stop. We don’t even have to do anything more-” He caresses your cheek.
“The thing is…” You pause to slowly swipe your thumb on his lower lip. “I want to-”
You look up at him with the most innocent looking eyes and Hyunjae swears to himself that he’s never seen anyone look at him the way you do. Like he had hung the moon for you. Hyunjae softly smiles at you before leaning to kiss you once again,
"Then sit tight baby… Because I'm about to rock your world."
(Part 2)
Tumblr media
325 notes · View notes