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#I just feel very goblin today
sayosweeti · 8 months
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ITS GOBLIN DAY!~✨🩷😇
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titan-god-helios · 9 months
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oh no oh fuck what happened to tumblr is my computer just fucking up or did the site actually change pleasetellmemycomputerfuckedupi'msostressedrightnowihatethis
#now there have been two (2) minor to others but major to my autistic ass changes today#one is that genshin impact fucking changed their party setup layout and i very much despise the new one i loved the old one it was perfect#and so neat and had everything you needed and then they CHANGED IT and i feel like crying everytime im reminded#because that fucking shit is my comfort game i love it so much and then they had to go and make it changed and new and uncertain#the autism goblin freaked out so hard earlier but fontaine soothed it a little because yay !! new place to explore !! i love exploring !!#key word: a little#AND NOW THIS SHIT WITH THE HELLSITE AGAIN#ADMINS#PLEASE#STOP CHANGING SHIT#YOU'RE STRESSING THE FUCK OUT OF THE AUTISM GOBLINS#i look at the layout and i just feel like crying and rocking back and forth so hard ohmygod its actual real pain im not even exaggerating#its like someone's showing me a recording of something so viscerally wrong in every conceivable way that my eyes feel as if they're being#stabbed and i break out into a cold sweat and i'm in actual fucking pain right now why is being autistic so fucking PAINFUL always#give it a week of slowly introducing it to my brain like how you introduce a new cat to your other cats and i'll get used to it#but that doesn't matter right now i would rather step on legos for a minute straight i hate it so much i am in so much fucking mental pain#hjgshgdsuygdsyudghjdgsjdfgdsgdjdf#autism#neurodivergent#actually autistic#asd#its the neurodivergency#actuallyautistic#neurodivergencies#actually adhd#being autistic#adhd#genshin impact#tumblr staff#bad staffelstein
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thewenglishwarlock · 11 months
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neil-gaiman · 7 months
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Hi Neil,
I read all your books, but today I’d like to share my story about The Graveyard Book. It’s a bit long.
I remember that I listened to the audio book in almost pitch black in a park, before I actually read that book. It was in winter, and the park was covered in deep snow. I walked through a path between some dark and tall pine trees. There, your voice read the story in my headphones. The story began with something about “a knife in the darkness”.
I wasn’t exactly existed to the rest of the world at the time. I have development disorder (Ok I have autism but not the smart kind that most people would have imagined), I have intellectual disabilities, I was very delayed in development, and it took me years to learn the simplest things most people would learn as toddlers. I was homeschooled at times and when I actually went to school it was in an untraditional way.
Now I’m not sure what was happening when I heard/read The Grave Book for the first time, but I remember I wan’t anywhere in this world and wasn’t really doing anything. I was in between.
I love the idea about the goblins’ underground world very much. I also love the idea about befriending ghosts. I dreamt to have ghost friends. I literally dreamt about me chasing after some ghosts, hoping they can be my friends but they were too social-phobic and they always scattered away.
But most of all I love what Bod said, ‘I want to see life. I want to hold it in my hands. I want to leave a footprint on the sand of a desert island. I want to play football with people. I want…I want everything.’
This was exactly what I thought at the time. I’m disabled, I can be uncomfortable in many environments, I get tired easily, I get into troubles or difficulties very often. I can’t stand the noise, but I wish I could be in the Rock music concert and actually enjoy it without pain. People thought we don’t want them. But I want them, I want everything.
Well, I guess you know what happened next: “Between now and then, there was Life; and Bod walked into it with his eyes and his heart wide open.” I did this and I’m still doing it. I’m nearly thirty now, but I feel that my life had yet to start. I went abroad, I came NZ just as you did. I’m in a university and I haven’t graduated.
And I’d like to think that when I’m in my 60s I can do everything, just like you and my elderly friends, I’ll get a very big dog and a very tiny house, I’ll be able to play music with other people in my garden, and we dance.
You will dance.
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sagasolejma · 17 days
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I really don't believe in gendered socialisation that much, or at least I don't believe it affects trans people the same way it does cis people BUT I will admit as a trans girl on hormones who is starting to get some noticeable visible changes, a part of me does sometimes feel like I'm some kind of weird gremlin creature who knows nothing about how to girl, who was then very suddenly shoved into a woman's body.
People will be like "omg you've worn a sports bra for more than three days??? Don't you know those get super sweaty and stinky easily and it's bad for your skin!!!!" and I'm just sitting there like no literally how would I even know that😭
Or like today I'm sitting in my chair kinda autistically scratching my nail polish like the little goblin I am, and one of my friends goes "no don't scratch your nail polish it'll look terrible, did your mom never teach you that???" and once again I'm just sitting there, feeling like a skin walker that was just exposed to society's expectations of what I'm supposed to already know about a gender I've been living as for like... 4 and a half months lol.
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carooosa · 7 months
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Enchanting Distractions
Summary: Tav (reader) has ADHD/is bad at setting boundaries when it comes to their party members. Astarion comforts them.
Word count: 3.5k
A/N: Semi-canon compliant, takes place after the tiefling party and literally right before entering Act 2. I barely proofread it so sorry in advance. I was feeling particularly upset at myself today and so this is what I wrote up.
The days had been starting to blur together as you made your way through the mountain pass. Tomorrow your party would step into the shadow-cursed lands, so it was decided to set up camp early for the night to ensure that everyone was well-rested and prepared. Tension ran through the camp, everyone on edge with the possibility of finding the cause of the tadpoles. Whatever happens tomorrow could very well be the end of your journey.
As everyone set up their tents, you began to look through your supplies, separating potions, arrows, and scrolls into piles to give to your companions. While organizing everything, the sound of Lae’zel and Shadowheart bickering caused you to lift your head. They had never gotten along since the beginning of this tadpole mess but after the Githyanki Creche their hatred for each other seemed to amplify.
“I would say that I’m surprised that machine was unable to get rid of the tadpoles, but then again, I wouldn’t expect gith to know what they were doing,” Shadowheart had taunted Lae’zel.
“The zaith'isk was tampered with! Githyanki technology is far beyond your understanding, and if you had something other than a tadpole in your brain, you would realize the mistake in your words,” Lae’zel shot back. She turned to herself before saying, “Useless istik, mindlessly following a false god”
“What did you just say?” Shadowheart said as she readied herself to attack.
“Your ‘goddess’ ordered you to steal a precious artifact from my people, and yet knowing that does not change your unwavering belief. A goblin has more integrity than you,” Lae’zel said as she continued to walk away.
“Shar is a real goddess, unlike the githyanki’s petty attempt at a goddess, Vlaakith,” Shadowheart yells as she begins to sprint toward Lae’zel. The fighter had already pulled out her sword and the clashing of metal rang through the air. You sighed, standing up from the mess that laid out before you, and ran towards the fight. Before you could intervene, Karlach had taken her great axe and held it out in between the two aggressors before berating them.
“For fuck’s sake guys, the whole point of setting up camp early was to rest for tomorrow, not argue and waste our energy on dumb fights.” As Karlach said this, Shadowheart cast gust of wind to push her opponent back, accidentally hitting Karlach in the crossfire. She had succeeded at causing Lae’zel to lose her grip on her sword but had caused that sword to slash into Karlach’s leg. The tiefling groaned as she kneeled to the ground, clutching her thigh.
You ran back to your bag and turned it upside down, dumping all the contents onto the piles you had started to make earlier, and rummaged through your items until you found a healing potion and some fire-resistant bandages. When you ran over to Karlach to heal her, Wyll was already yelling at the two women who had caused an unnecessary injury.
“Your recklessness has caused this bloodshed!” he sounded exasperated as you handed Karlach the potion, unraveling the bandages and starting to dress her wound, careful to not burn yourself in the process. “You both are distracted by your own prejudices and disdain for each other that the thought you may be hurting others in the process never crossed your minds. So caught up in yourselves, you have yet to see the irony of the words you throw at each other.”
Wyll continued his lecture as you focus on Karlach, watching her toss aside the empty potion bottle. “Thanks, soldier,” she says with a weak smile. She pushes herself off of the ground, causing Wyll to pause his lecture and rush to her side. “I’m fine, just gonna head to bed early,” she says while sidestepping past him.
You take a breath and start to think of how to address the situation that just happened when suddenly, Gale is by your side, anxiously fumbling with his hands. Realization overcame you and you tried to recall the last time you had given the wizard an enchanted item to consume the magic from. 
“I know now might not be the best time,” he starts, “but there really never is a good time nowadays, is there?” he finishes with a chuckle to himself.
“I should have an enchanted ring in my bag—“ you stop when you glance back at your backpack, contents strewn across the ground.
“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Gale says quickly. “Dinner isn’t going to cook itself!” He makes his way to his tent and you drag your feet back to your backpack, dreading the mess you’ll have to clean up. Sifting through the items, you create another pile of the things you already looked through. Focused on organizing, you don’t hear Astarion sneak up on you.
“My my, these are quite the… piles you have here,” he says while crouching down across from you. “What’s with all these arrows and grenades? Have you decided to try your hand in ranged combat? Because if so,” he pauses, crimson red eyes staring into your soul, “I’d be more than happy to give you some private lessons.” He bares his teeth, his fangs glistening. You’re tempted to take him up on the offer before you remember why you got those items in the first place.
“Oh, those aren’t for me. I’ve been picking up stuff here and there, and I figured before heading out tomorrow I’d give some to everyone. I was actually organizing everything,” you say, completely forgetting that you were looking for a ring, “and I was going to try and figure out what would be best for everyone to have, but since you’re here, you can pick whatever you want.”
“I can choose anything here?” Astarion asks with a smirk. You nod your head and he responds by picking up your hand and giving it a kiss on the palm, “Then I pick you, my dear.”
Your cheeks flush red as you stutter out a response. “That’s not what I meant and you know it!” Astarion had been teasing you a lot more lately, and while you didn’t mind, it had proven to be an extra distraction. 
He chuckled at your pout, caressing your face with his other hand, his thumb pressing down on your lower lip. You both stare at each other for a moment, before he sighs and brings his hands back to his side. “Well, if I can’t have you I guess I need to figure something else out.” He scans over the pile and picks up a necklace.
“Wait, not that,” you say while snatching the jewelry away from him. “That can restore one of Shadowheart’s spells, I should go give that to her.” You stand up and run off to find the cleric, not noticing the disgruntled look Astarion has on his face. He sighs and looks down at the clutter, beginning to sift through the items.
While making your way to Shadowheart’s tent, you hear Halsin comfort a whining Scratch. “There, there, I’m sure we will retreive it soon enough,” the druid says while gently petting the dog. “Ah, Tav, could I bother you for a moment? Scratch seems to have lost his ball in a burrow and neither of us can reach it. Would mind seeing if you can grab it?”
Scratch runs up to you and paces around you in circles before you lean down to him, “Of course I’ll help you out, buddy.” Without thinking, you set the necklace on a nearby rock, crouching down to the burrow and searching for the ball. In the shadows you spot it, deep inside the tunnel, and you reach your arm in. 
Your fingers are barely able to reach the toy, and you’re about to maneuver the ball out when Gale speaks. “Tav, I’m terribly sorry to ask again, but were you able to find the enchanted ring perchance?” The ball rolls out of your grasp, and you let out a long sigh before retracting your arm.
“Sorry, Gale, I got distracted. As soon as I get this ball out for Scratch I’ll go and get it for you.” Content with that answer he nods and walks off. Reaching your hand back into the hole, you push yourself against the ground, the extra leverage closing the distance between your hand and the toy. You let out a breath before throwing the ball, Scratch bounding after it.
“Thank you, Tav!” Halsin says as he runs after the dog.
Walking back to where Astarion sits rummaging through your things, Wyll interrupts you. “Tav, do you by chance have a fire resistance potion? I was wanting to give Karlach these flowers to cheer her up,” he says, holding the bouquet in front of him sheepishly. Although Wyll and Karlach had been foes in Avernus, they’re relationship was slowly blossoming into a gentle romance.
“That’s very sweet of you, Wyll. I should have one in my stuff.” You both head over to the piles of items that Astarion had started to organize. It would be nice to have someone think about me like Wyll thinks about Karlach, you ponder as you bend down next to Astarion, grabbing the fire resistance potion that sat buried within the clutter. “Here you go,” you hand Wyll the potion, “I think those will make her very happy.”
Wyll says a quick thanks as he opens the potion with his teeth, hastily pouring the contents over the bouquet and heading off to Karlach’s tent. Clearing his throat, Astarion asks “Did Shadowheart enjoy your gift?” he says with a slight frown and a twinge of annoyance in his voice.
“My what?”
He stares at you for a second, before elaborating, “The necklace? The one that you oh so rudely snatched from my hands.” He watches as your face scrunches up tightly trying to remember what he’s talking about before you gasp.
“The necklace!”
“Yes, the necklace,” he sighs.
“Where did I put it?” you say as you frantically pat down your pockets.
Astarion starts to tease you again, “Really, darling, how could you misplace something like that? I thought that necklace was important after you had yanked it out of my hand and ran off to Shadowheart.” He’s chuckling to himself when he notices the genuine frustration that is starting to seep off of you.
“I just had it. I was holding it in my hand. Where could I have put it?” you mutter to yourself, your breath starting to quicken. Dread creeps through your chest as you begin to mentally retrace your steps. “Think, dammit, think!” Tears start to form in the corners of your eyes, a lump taking place in the back of your throat. Astarion stood up and reached his hand tentatively towards yours, squeezing it gently to try and bring you back to the present.
Gale had made his way back over to you, seeing that you were near your things. “I hate to interrupt this touching moment, but I really do need that ring if you have it,” He says while clutching his chest. Astarion glares daggers at the wizard who is either oblivious or purposely ignoring your stress, but you don’t notice as your mind has drifted off.
Right, you think to yourself, I came over here to look for the ring. Without saying a word, you push away Astarion’s hand and sink to the ground, aimlessly pushing around everything trying to find the ring. Astarion studies you, the way your hands seem to be searching for the relic while your eyes glaze over and stare at nothing, until your hand brushes over the small golden circle and you grasp it firmly. You sigh and recollect yourself before turning around and jumping up to Gale, handing him the ring with a forced smile and laugh. “Sorry for the delay! I’ve been so forgetful lately.”
He takes the ring from your hand, clutching it tightly while absorbing the magic into his chest. When he opens his hand, the ring is broken into two. “Ah, apologies. Dinner should be finished soon. Thanks again,” he says with a bow before leaving.
You sigh before returning to the pile, starting to organize it once again. From the outside, people would assume that you’re just forgetful and easily distracted, most even finding your frantic and hectic demeanor cute. You can’t help but feel like a burden, requiring constant reminders to stay on task, feeling like you need to rely on others instead of yourself. It wasn’t for a lack of trying, either, but no matter how many times you repeated tasks to yourself, how many times you had written down what needs to be done, how many times you had try to will focus into your mind, nothing changed. It's always been like this, and now with the stress of the unknown ahead, you’ve been getting distracted more.
Astarion watches you, determined to organize the mess on the ground. When he first met you, you had brushed off your forgetfulness and laughed along with anyone who had made a joke at your expense. It had annoyed him to no end when you would walk into the same room, multiple times, that you had just looted. This aloofness only seemed to grow after you both had come to an agreement that Astarion could drink your blood in order to satiate his thirst, the only side affect being your increased mind-wandering.
After another 30 minutes of watching you return to the same room over and over to loot, he had decided that you both would search the rooms together, if nothing else to lessen the time it took at each town. He didn’t expect that during the extra, private time you both were now spending together he would begin to grow fond of you. While he would be working on a lock of a chest, you would grab a book and immediately become immersed in it. At first, he would use this time to pocket the most valuable items found in whatever container he had just opened, but as time went on, he had started to ask you questions about what you were reading.
It had caught him off guard when you looked up at him with excitement in your eyes as you explained the gossip in the diary you found, and he couldn’t help but become intrigued himself. Quickly, a new routine had started: while Astarion would loot and lockpick whatever he could get his hands on, you would find diaries, notes, and books to read outloud. He would respond to the especially vulgar and outlandish things you would recite with theatrical gasps and awes. One time, you had stumbled across a particularly sad letter from a person who begged their lover to wait for them, only for their lover to respond that they had never returned. A choked sob had escaped your lips when you finished the letter, and Astarion had quickly called you over to distract you.
“It’s about time that you learn how to use one of these,” he said while he pushed a lockpick into your hands. “If you’re going to stare at me while I do all the work, you may as well get something out of it.” He had been joking, but you hadn’t taken it that way. A wave a guilt and embarrassment had washed over you as you resolved to force yourself to learn what he was teaching you. It was all in vain, however, as every ten minutes when he would ask you to demonstrate, your hands would clam up and your mind would go blank.
“Darling, is it really that hard to focus? Or am I just that distracting, hm?” he had joked.
You wouldn’t look into his eyes, instead you had begun to fumble with the lockpick in your hands. “I’m sorry,” you had whispered, “I’m really trying.”
You had expected him to berate you or to even make a joke about how useless you were, but instead he had sighed and positioned himself behind you, placing his hands over yours as he talked you through the steps, yet again, of lockpicking. When you had heard the final click of the lock, you quickly turned to look at the man who had helped you. Inches away from each other’s faces, he smiled softly and brought one of his hands up to your cheek as he placed a gentle kiss on your temple.
“See? You can focus,” he had said while giving you a tight squeeze.
The sound of your sigh brought him back to the present, and he stared at you for a moment before asking, “Do you want me to go and look for the necklace while you do this?” You stop moving things around and just sit there, defeated. The necklace had completely slipped your mind, just like the ring. Your body begins to shake as tears run down your cheek. Astarion slowly kneels next to you, grabbing the potions and arrows from your hand and setting them off to the side. “Hey, it’s alright. Shh-shh-shh, there’s no need to ruin that beautiful face of yours.”
You start to sob quietly. Why was this so difficult for you? You were able to talk your way out of situations, fight enemies with ease, and coordinate a fighting strategy that used everyone to the best of their abilities, yet you were unable to do such simple things. You draw your hands to your eyes, pressing harshly into them to try and stop the tears that fall out. Astarion gingerly moves his arms around you in a hug, as gentle as he can muster as to not startle you. He squeezes you tightly and you stay like that for a while, before you’re able to croak out a simple question that leaves a pain in his chest.
“What’s wrong with me?” You move your hands away from your face and turn your head to look at him, expecting to see frustration in his eyes but instead finding something softer. It looks as if he’s genuinely concerned. 
“There’s nothing wrong with you, Tav,” he says quietly, barely above a whisper.
“Then why,” you say with trembling words, “why can’t I do such simple things? Why is it so difficult for me to remember what I’m doing, to not get distracted?”
Astarion sighs as he looks at you with his big, round eyes. “You are capable of much more than you know, my sweet. You were designated the leader for a reason. You’re brave, witty, and above all else, kind. You are so sickenly kind and patient with everyone, yet you don’t afford yourself the same grace,” he says as he rubs circles into your back. “You’ve been kind to those that don’t deserve it, but you’re never kind to yourself.”
“Thank you,” you reply meekly. You hated crying in front of your companions, but you found that you didn’t mind being comforted by Astarion.
“Besides, darling,” the vampire joked,” It’s hardly your fault that you keep getting distracted when there are six adult children who need constant supervision.”
“Don’t you mean seven?”
He pulled away from you with a gasp. “I think I am more than capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much.”
“Oh, if that’s the case, you don’t need to see me for blood anymore then, right?” you teased.
Astarion squinted at you before his eyes softened and he pulled you into his arms again. You both sat like that for a while before he spoke, barely above a whisper, “I don’t only need you for blood.” Before you can respond, Gale’s call to dinner causes Astarion to push you up. “Go on, enjoy dinner.” You start to protest and gesture to the mess that still needs to be cleaned up before he cuts you off, “I’ll take care of it.” As he begins to sort through the items, he catches your eye before you leave. 
“I hope you know that I’m still expecting to see you tonight,” he says with a sultry voice. If you hadn’t gotten closer recently, you would take what he says at face value, a meaningless flirt to rile you up. But beneath his smirk you can see a hint of sadness in his eyes.
It will need to wait for another time as your stomach grumbles, and you remember that you had forgotten to eat lunch that day. You say a quick thank-you before running off to join the rest of the party, feeling more at ease about the adventure that lay before you.
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magicalgoblinz · 8 months
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One Thing
Summary: You did it. Cazador's dead and now... Astarion is finding himself working through some big emotions. Pairing: Astarion x gn!reader Word Count: 3.5 k Warnings: General angst, eluding to physical, emotional, and sexual abuse. Possibly ooc Astarion. Quickly edited. Song Recommendation: Never Let Me Go + Florence and the Machine Author's Note: First thing I've ever written for Astarion but I get the feeling it won't be the last. I really genuinely just wanted to get this idea out of my brain even if it's a bit strange and not all that amazing haha.
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It had been a long day. Perhaps one of the longest you and your party had endured yet, or... at least it felt that way. It wasn't hard on your body like the goblin fight had been, nor had it been arcanely exhaustive like chasing that damned hag was. No, standing in the halls of Cazador's palace brought a different type of exhaustion. Passing through the spaces that your lover had once stalked attempting to go unseen by his master, seeing the sights of the spaces he was kept, smelling the decay, the putridness that no doubt lingered in the meals he was forced to partake in.
Every sight, smell, and sound you had come across weighed heavily on you. Even now as you sat in the plush comfort that was Elfsong Inn, freshly washed, the scents lingered in your nose and left a bitter taste in your mouth.
You pushed around the hastily prepared hash in your bowl, frown bared for everyone to see. Your thoughts were only for him. Every second of silence you could hear his sobs in that moment. The cries pulled from his very core, the kind of cries you could imagine he had dreamed of releasing for so long through every moment of torture he was subjected to. There was no way to imagine all of the atrocities he had suffered, yet somehow being left with nothing made every idea that flitted past your mind's eye so much worse.
You for so long had wished to weep for him. Weep for the time he had lost. Weep for the pain he must have felt in having to stand on the outside wondering if his family and friends ever thought of him again after he passed on. Weep for the crushed hopes for the future he had at one time had.
But what good would your tears do him now?
Cazador was dead.
And more importantly... Astarion was free.
So why did it all still feel so... excruciatingly heavy?
"Ts'ka --- eat and do not play. You need your strength for tomorrow." Lae'zel pushed from her lounging position on the floor.
"Have some heart, Lae'zel. It’s been a very difficult day." Wyll was quick to defend upon seeing the way your expression soured at the thought of eating. "Y/n, had to assist our resident vampire through some very hard things today. Including walking through where he had been kept prisoner. Imagine having to do the same with your lover." He said with a gesture towards Lae'zel.
"If I had a lover they would be able to care for themselves; it would be the first thing I looked for in a mate. A prowess to stay alive in battle like my own is the only thing that is truly attractive." Lae'zel said with a lifted chin.
Wyll's lips parted as if to say something more but began to shake his head, there was no fighting with La'zel. She didn't dig her heels in when it came to opinions, no her entire feet were buried. "Speaking of Astarion, where is he?" He eventually asked, changing the focus of the conversation.
"I believe he went for a bath." Shadowheart interjected, "He said something about not being able to stand having his beauty mired... you know how he is." She said, not lifting her eyes from her bowl with a small wave of her spoon that was held in delicate fingers.
Her saying this seemed to pull your eyes towards the door of the wash room. It had been a while since he left now that you thought about it. Your brows lowered a bit in thought; Astarion deserved his space right now, but you still couldn't help but want to hold his hand and not let it go after everything that had happened today. Maybe he wouldn't want that though, not with what you did today.
That look in his eyes...
Now that he had the time to actually think about what you did, what you talked him into doing; would he feel betrayed?
You had promised him you'd help him get that power he so desired, but when that chance came you changed your mind.
The idea of Astarion no longer trusting you hurt more than imagining him ending whatever it was the two of you had. The worries made your expression sullen even more, looking down at your bowl with a deeper pit growing in your stomach. Did you really want to find out?
Out of the blue, there is a light nudge to your arm. The little touch is enough to pull you back up from your descent into grieving something you hadn't even lost yet. With a glance to your right you find Karlach with a bottle outstretched to you. "I think we could all use a little drink tonight... but especially Astarion." She said warmly, "Perhaps you should see if he wants some?" She continued with a little jerk of her head towards the closed doors. Her tone made it all to clear that your inner turmoil was written out on your face for everyone to see.
A sigh escaped your throat as you debated on whether or not that was a good idea but the way Karlach began to lazily swing the bottle back and forth with her hand triggered something in your mind that made you reach out and take it in one smooth movement.
It couldn't hurt to check in on him?
Could it?
Astarion's head was rested back, hanging over the edge of the bath he sat in. The water had lost the majority of its warmth, and his hand had pruned but he made no movements to get out. Eyes transfixed on the dancing flames in the fireplace at the side of the room. Every twist of orange and lift of a spark made his mind lurch through another memory; they all seemed to be coming back to him now, one by one. His mind shuddered from the thought of a blade pressed into his skin, carving, etching, his skin becoming the canvas for a dastardly design that he wouldn't understand for years.
Funnily, the recollection of pain wasn't what bothered him. It was having to recall his own voice struggling not to escape his lips throughout the entire gut-wrenching experience that made his hand ball into a fist.
With a pop and crackle of the wood Astarion's memories would carry on to something else.
His ears ringing, echoing the silence of that tomb. Gods above that tomb. That year spent in silence. Those months spent starving. The way his hands bled from trying ever so desperately to escape. Over what...? A boy that he couldn't bear to steal the life away from.
Astarion took in a sharp breath as he tried to shake away the thought, as he sat up.
But still the memories continued to bleed through. The faces of all those people he had brought to Cazador, he could see them in his mind's eye. The memories of bedding some of them, cycling through his head in a complete sequence even though they were spread across centuries. A flash of a young human woman who excitedly spun in a brand new red dress that she was ever so excited to show off. The pale blue of a nervous elf man's eyes as they darted around the room the second Astarion approached. Seeing the tattoos and the scars spread across the back of a dwarven sailor who stretched after returning to the mainland after a long voyage. The shine of a coy tiefling woman's smile as she attempted to steal his coin purse from his pocket. So many lives, so many people. At what point did he begin to stop caring? Who was it that he pulled by the wrist back to a dreary room that made him start drifting away any time he had to become intimate? Or was it any of them at all?
His features twisted into an expression of disgust the second his mind started going down that path. There was no amount of Cazador being dead that made those memories better. In a snap his balled up hands lifted to rub his eyes in annoyance. If only Astarion could wash out his eyes and his mind and start anew. If only.
And to think... he had wanted this for so long.
He had dreamt about the day he'd be able to have the cathartic feeling of stabbing Cazador, again, and again, and again. And now that it had come and gone... he wished he could have kept going forever. Fuck, he wished he had. After everything Cazador had done to him, the bastard deserved so much worse than to bleed out on that cold floor. He deserved to suffer just as much as Astarion had, if not more.
Astarion couldn't help but wish that he had ignored everyone and continued the ritual as a perfect slap in the face to Cazador. Continued that ritual, so for the first time in all these years... he'd be safe. Entirely safe. And the loss of that made his chest ache, he was so close to crying all over again.
But then...
Tap, tap, tap
"Astarion," Your voice started from just beyond the doors. "I'm sorry to bother you. I just um... wanted to check in. Karlach thought you might need a drink."
There was you.
Astarion's head lifted from his hands as he took in a deep breath. He tried to shove all those emotions back down again, to put the cork back in the bottle before they could really bleed out into him properly. His gaze lingering on the door, lips unmoving.
"Didn't you hear him? If you complete the ritual, you'll be consumed, Astarion." You had said with a look of sincere terror in your eyes. The look wasn't foreign to him... but perhaps different? People had been scared of him before, oh people had been terrified once they realized what he was. But just how many people had been scared for him? That... he didn't know.
He couldn't remember his exact words in reply now, the tension and adrenaline leaving them in a silent part of his mind but what he did recall was the way you looked at him. It stung. It stung so much more than the little voice in the back of his mind screaming that you were breaking your promise.
You promised to help him ascend. You swore you would help him ascend. You said---
Gods that look. Astarion couldn’t shake it.
The way your eyes seemed to plead with him before you had even opened your mouth. Begging him to reconsider. "I know you think this will set you free, but it won't." Your voice was so gentle, but still so desperate. "This power will trap you, just like it trapped Cazador. Is that really what you want?"
You were right, as much as he hated it. You were always right.
But more than that. As he thought about it now, he recognized something that he hadn't in that moment...
Just outside the door you stood listening, hoping to hear something, anything. Your thumb fumbled with the cork of the bottle nervously. This was a bad idea wasn't it? He needed more time. This was too soon to try and come see him. Gods... what if he really did hate you for what you did. You started to shake your head, "...I'm going to take that as a no. I'll um..." you started lightly, trying not to have your worry show through in your words. "I'm sorry again for interrupting. I'll see you when you're finished, my darling."
Once more. You wanted to call him that one more time before he had a chance to break things off.
"Come in."
Your eyes couldn't help but widen ever so slightly, hand moving to the handle before cautiously pushing the door open and poking your head in. From this angle you could see Astarion's side profile, the good majority of the grime and blood from the day having been washed away, though his clothes that sat off to the side on a bench, were stained a deep red that would take ages to remove, if it ever came out at all. His eyes soon looked your way tiredly. As an instinct you quickly held up the bottle you had brought him, no words coming to follow it, they all seemed to have gone into hiding the second his eyes landed on you.
"Are you planning on bringing the bottle here my sweet, or to just... swing it around like an idiot?" He asked in a long drawn out way, a tone that felt like he was trying to maintain a sense of normalcy for you, but at this point in your adventure together the look in his eyes was more than enough to tell you that he was working through something.
You were entirely taken aback by the gentle name used, a little bit of relief seeping into your chest. "Y-you want me to come in?"
"Was that not what I said?"
Your lips parted, deciding not to speak just yet and instead closing the door behind you. "I'm sorry... I just didn't want to overstep with you, you know… washing and all." You said slowly, acting as if you weren’t both adults – who had on more than occasion – slept together.
Even now, even after seeing him at his lowest today, you were still trying to respect whatever boundaries he had. The thought made Astarion close his eyes and let out a soft laugh, "Darling, you've seen me naked before, it's fine." He assured, "Now...please, for the love of gore and everything soaked in blood, can you bring me that bottle."
There was no reluctance now, carrying yourself to his side with ease. As you approached you couldn't help but notice that his hair was still matted thick with blood in places. All this time he clearly had just been lost in his thoughts as much as you expected really. His hand reached up the second you drew near, taking the bottle from your hands greedily, popping the cork and taking a decidedly long drink. Not minding you at all as you reluctantly found a seat on the bench his clothes were rested upon.
The sight of his nose scrunching a bit from the taste of the wine made an ever so small smile tug at the corner of your mouth. It was hard not to recall him making that same face at the tiefling party not so long ago. Vinegar for wine. Would there be a day when the wine you brought him didn't elicit that involuntary response?
Astarion glanced at you from the corner of his eye, "You'd have made an excellent vampire, you know." He said with an amused little grin, all happy to see the confusion cover your features.
"Why is that?"
"Asking to come in, obviously." He joked loosely,
A small laugh left your lips as your eyes drifted to the floor, "I didn't realize that respecting people's privacy was so vampiresque."
"It's not, we're atrociously nosey by nature and well... it's just another fun hindrance to go against that nature I suppose." Astarion spoke in his normal moseying draw. 
"I see..."
There was a breadth of silence between the two of you. A silence that carried the heaviness of the day's events. You knew it needed to be said, but it didn't make it any easier to consider what the exact words were that needed saying. How to broach it? What if he didn’t want to talk about it at all and you misread the situation entirely? You kept glancing his way hoping to have it all come together in your mind like some sort of epiphany, yet he beat you to it.
"I'm not upset with you, darling. You don't have to keep looking at me like that." Astarion spoke suddenly with all the ease in the world.
"You're not?"
"Well,  perhaps I was a little at first. You did go back on your word, after all." Astarion pointed out, eyes now fixed on the bottle in his hand. “I think anyone might be a bit… sour after something like that.”
There was the guilt again. "Astarion... I'm sorry, I---"
"I don't want your apologies." He cut in sharply, finally turning his gaze to look your way.  Despite what his tone may have indicated, his eyes weren't as stern as they normally appeared when he was upset. No, they were instead ever so full of sadness.  "...I-I'm not angry with you. I swear it. But what I don't understand is why I don't feel any fucking better." Astarion said as his voice suddenly sounded so much more fragile. "I... I killed him. I got the revenge I've dreamed about for two-hundred fucking years. The same revenge I begged for the whole year I was locked in that horrid tomb." He hissed, "I took back my life and yet I... I feel like I didn't do enough."
He was cracking. That much you could see.
"I can't help but wonder if I had completed the ceremony if that would have been enough. Enough to rub it in his Gods damned face that I did it." Astarion admitted sternly, lifting his chin as his eyes stayed focused on the bottle still, "Watch this worm take away everything from him like he took everything from me." He mumbled out, the heat leaving his voice for a brief second as all that he was left with was glassy eyes.
"...I-I would have never had to fear anyone or anything ever again..." Astarion uttered through clenched teeth, tears finally breaking free and running down his cheeks one at a time. "...and now it's gone."
Wordlessly you got to your feet, taking a few steps forward to close the gap between you both, leaning down to wrap your arms around his neck in the most comforting hug you could possibly muster. His hand immediately finds your arm, holding it tight as for the second time in your journey, he begins to cry.
Silence seems to be what Astarion needed from you, wailing into the open air as everything he has stuffed away into that bottle comes pouring back out. No apologies. No consoling words. Just for you to hold him, to give him time. His head rests against yours almost as if to ensure that even now, after everything you both had been through, you couldn't see him cry. Perhaps the idea of you seeing it happen twice in a day was too much for him. Or perhaps there was still a festering feeling of weakness that would bubble up if he let you see him cry.
"Oh my sweet, sweet, Astarion." You mumbled holding him tighter than before, listening as his sobs grew softer over the passing moments. 
Waiting. Listening.
Once his frame had stopped shaking you finally raised your voice once more . "...if I could Astarion, I would take away all of the hurt in an instant... but I can't. And I wish you knew just how much it pains me to not be able to." You speak, parting your lips to continue on but pause as you feel a familiar shudder resonate through your mind. He was peering in, confirming the statement for himself it seemed. "The most I can do is promise you something..." you continued on, pretending like you weren't aware of poking around, you had nothing to hide for one key reason…
Gently you pulled back, running your hand from his neck to his chin to tilt his head up. Eyes looking over his tear stained cheeks and then to meet his own shimmering red eyes. "I promise you that, as long as I'm here you will never have to fear anything... or anyone again." You assured, thumbs brushing over his cheeks as you wipe away his remaining tears. “Because Astarion… I love you and… I will never let you go.”
The look that fills Astarion's eyes is something that you had only seen once before when you decided to hug him for the first time back in the Shadowlands. It was a look that spoke numbers towards just how frightening the unknown was for him. How terrifying it could be to have someone love you so truly and want nothing in return for the first time in his life.
You feel a rush of surprise followed by so overwhelming, your lips curl into the same smile you gave him then as you had reached out to wrap your arms around him to hold him tight…
You know the feeling even if he can’t say it yet.
Love.
Because that was the thing. Astarion had realized before this that you… well, you were the only good thing that he’s ever had. That he’d do just about anything to keep you safe and ensure that no one dare take you away from him. Yet, strangely he never once considered…
That he might mean just that much to you.
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End Notes: Thank you so much for reading! I'd really love to start writing for Astarion more so if you have any ideas send them over <3
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hotluncheddie · 3 months
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Wherever you go, that’s where I am.
lovely @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx mentioned writing some more mid 20s, slightly softer body steve <3 so here is: Five times Eddie loves Steve’s body and one time Steve loves Eddie’s 
wc: 3.5k | cw: none | rated: M | tags: established relationship, body worship, feral pining goblin eddie munson, chubby steve harrington, fluff, they're in love (so so so in love)
ao3
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1.
Eddie leaps back into the bed, mattress bouncing. He’s been hit with the post coital zoomies, which unfortunately go against Steve’s post nut ritual of passing the fuck out. 
But Eddie doesn’t mind. Not when Steve looks so soft, all curled up, laying on his side. 
Eddie cleans up, Steve teeters on the verge of sleep until Eddie’s finished and spoons him. It’s foolproof. 
He nuzzles into Steve’s shoulder, kissing over the skin and down his back. He traces over the scars at Steve’s hip, just like his own. It still makes Eddie shiver when he thinks about it sometimes, him and his boyfriend, connected like that. 
Eddie nuzzled in more and Steve lets out a sleepy groan. He’s so cute when he gets fucked boneless. Eddie would know, he’s the one that gets to do the fucking. 
Letting his hands roam further Eddie sneaks around to Steve’s stomach, stroking the soft hairs of his happy trail and letting his fingers press into the slight pudge that sits there now. It feels nice, like his Steve, relaxed and happy and safe. 
‘I like this’ Eddie says, giving the soft skin a squeeze. 
Steve grunts. ‘Wha?’ Eddie thinks he says, Steve’s face is smushed into the pillow. 
Eddie smiles, kisses his shoulder. ‘This.’ Eddie squeezes again, splaying his whole hand over it, pressing his fingers into the warm skin slightly. 
Steve just grunts again, turns his head to lay on the pillow properly. ‘I’ll go for a run tomorrow.’ He says, voice still rough with impending sleep. 
‘What?’ Eddie asks, because, huh? ‘Steve, I just said I like it.’ and Eddie scoots closer, tries to get a look at Steve’s face over his shoulder. 
He seems to be puzzling something out in his head, eyebrows slightly furrowed over his closed eyelids. ‘Oh.’ He says softly. ‘Kay.’ And he shimmies back into Eddie more, face smoothing out. 
Eddie squeezes him, tucking him up into his chest. ‘Yeah oh.’ He murmurs, kissing between Steve’s shoulder blades. ‘Silly.’ He adds fondly. Silly guy, how could he think Eddie sees him as anything other than the breathtaking, heavenly angel that he is? 
Steve just grunts again, resting his hand over Eddie’s on his stomach and falling dead asleep. His soft snores filling the room. 
Eddie resists the urge to bite his shoulder. Instead curling around him more and holding him as close as possible. Maybe they should talk about this at some point, why his mind went where it did. 
Not right now though. right now Eddie just lets himself drift off, lulled by the steady breathing of his most favourite person. 
2.
Eddie is going to erect an alter. And build a shrine. And kneel before it to give thanks. 
And it will all be dedicated to one, Bruce Springsteen. 
Eddie will never ever, cross his heart, ever complain about Steve playing ‘Born in the USA’ multiple times in a row. He’ll even put it at the top of his all time album lists. He’ll do it. He will. 
Because that album cover, that guy, those songs, inspired his Steve to look like that. 
And Eddie has never been a winner. But he hit the fucking jackpot today. Every day. All the days Steve will still let Eddie have him. 
The band had taken a trip into Chicago for some very exiting meetings. With Steve, angel that he is, offering to chauffeur so none of them would be too tired, and so they only had to spring for a hotel for one night instead of two. 
During said meeting Steve had been entertaining himself. The latest that Eddie got out of had been the longest and most exiting, so he’s happy. 
He’s maybe even happier though that Steve found such a productive way to entertain himself. 
Because Eddie too, is entertained. 
He’s waiting at Steve’s car, leaning against the front bumbler. And Steve, blessed, beautiful, jock that he is, had found the batting cages. 
Eddie’s going to write a song about blue jeans. He’s going to send Brucy a letter of thanks for causing Steve to cut the sleeves off his old grey crew neck. He’s going to need to get his mouth on Steve’s dick ASAP if he intends on walking over with his baseball bat over his shoulder the way it is, hips swaying, smug little smirk on his face. Maybe Eddie just needs a lobotomy, it’s all a little too much. 
Steve walks right past him, tapping him under the chin as he goes.
Eddie’s mouth was open, respectfully. 
Then he hears the boot click open, and Eddie quickly scampers around to the back of the car. 
Just in time to watch Steve bend over, putting the bat back, ass round and thick and filling up his jeans oh, so nicely. 
Eddie might have to write a whole album about blue jeans actually. Especially these new ones, a size or so bigger since high school, more room to let the full force of Steve show to the world. 
It’s just, there’s a certain level more bounce to it all now, and it makes Eddie kind of insane. 
And, oh, yep, Steve’s arching his back, okay. He wants Eddie to die, yep, like, actually die, for real. 
He’s not even really keeping up the rouse of pretending to be doing something. He’s just bent over with his back arched and his ass sticking out, shirt lifted just enough for Eddie to see the base of his spine. 
He’s doing it knowing Eddie’s looking. Knowing they’re in public. Knowing Eddie’s looking but they’re in public so Eddie can’t do anything. 
Menace. Brat. Evil. Evil. Evil. 
‘Boys are at the diner down the street. Said we’d meet them there.’ Eddie says, monotone, rough and with herculean effort. They need to go. He can’t do any of the many things he wants to to Steve right now. So they should go, for Eddie’s heart and soul and sanity’s sake. 
Eddie sighs, he really could look at this scene all day, but that would waste time, valuable, Steve and Eddie alone in the privacy of a room time. Which is sacred. 
‘We’ll be home by tonight you know?’ Steve says, leaning on the now closed boot. He’s taking pity on Eddie but he still looks a little smug, which is annoyingly, all, also hot. ‘C’mon, I’ll keep my hand on your thigh on the drive to the diner, the way you like.’ Steve murmurs, coming up behind Eddie and pushing him lightly, steering him towards the car. 
‘Home by tonight.’ Eddie parrots, his life line. He’ll be home by tonight, with Steve. Alone with just Steve, and he can do some of the many many things, whatever Steve will let him, whatever Steve wants.
3.
‘You come here often?’ Steve asks, grin loose and sloppy, eyes lidded. One arm resting on the doorframe next to Eddie’s head. Steve’s staring at his lips. 
Eddie smiles at him, tucks a lock of hair behind Steve’s ear. Cradling his cheek Eddie shakes Steves head slightly. ‘I do baby. I live here.’ And Steve giggles, tucks his head into Eddie’s neck, like this is the best news in the world. 
They’ve just got in from the bar, Steve crowding into Eddie’s space as soon as he got the door locked. Robin found a girl, away for the night. Steve had a couple more than normal to drink. 
Eddie can’t help but laugh along with him, kissing the side of his head and resting his hands on his hips to start walking them backwards towards their room. ‘C’mon big boy.’ He says, just to make Steve giggle more. 
Steve lifts his head back up, smile still big and loose, eyes still lidded. ‘Dance with me?’ He asks, like Eddie can’t tell he’s twenty minutes away for being passed out in bed, his fruity drinks always making him crash eventually. 
But Eddie can’t really say no to Steve, especially not when he’s like this, care free and blinding. When he’s beautifully alive. 
Eddie takes a step back, takes Steve’s hand and twirls him. Steve stumbles slightly, laughing again. 
With his arm up Eddie can see some of his soft hip and belly as his t-shirt lifts, can see that his jeans are unbuttoned. Which is not surprising since they’re practically painted on. Steve explained that he likes feeling Eddie up against him when they dance, likes the way Eddie’s eyes sharpen if someone looks a little too long. And oh, people look, it’s not just Eddie who notices how those jeans fit, how wonderful Steve always looks. 
But Eddie’s the only one who gets to see Steve like this. Home at the end of the night. When Steve needs that extra room, when he lets his soft parts breathe a little better. When he relaxes fully. 
That’s just for Eddie. And it’s the best part. 
Eddie twirls Steve again and lets him fall back into his chest. Giggles dying out slowly and breath coming deeper and slower. Steve hums, squeezing Eddie’s middle and breathing in the skin behind his ear. Steve leaves kisses down Eddie’s neck, a little wet, making Eddie shiver. Steve hums and does it again. ‘Love you.’ He whispers, holding Eddie close. 
Eddie squeezes back, his heart bursting. ‘Love you too baby.’ He says into Steve’s hair, into his bones, into all his soft wonderful edges. ‘Let me take my love to bed now, hm?’ He asks, dipping his hands into Steve’s back pockets, squeezing just to feel Steve tense and then relax against him. 
Steve nods, still in Eddie’s neck. One last kiss and he’s moving. Pulling Eddie by the hand through to their room. Kicking off his shoes and falling onto the bed with Eddie on top of him. Steve’s eyes already closed, breath already slowing and deepening. Like he knows Eddie will take care of the rest of their clothes, knows Eddie will tuck the blanket up around him, will hold Steve close all night. Knows Eddie will take care of him 
Because Eddie will. Always. 
4.
‘Looking good Munson.’ Steve says, jogging past Eddie, panting slightly, smacking Eddie on the ass. Making Eddie jolt and almost spill his coffee. 
He was leaning against the car door, face hidden in his arms because he’s just had to watch his very hot boyfriend complete his weekly work out at the park. Running, push-ups, the whole horrible lot. 
And its ass o’clock in the morning because Eddies vans broke and he needs a ride to work, but he wants his love to have hobbies and be happy and Steve can only get him there if Eddie came along to watch. So, really, Eddie can deal with the early morning but, he’s not sure if his dick can. 
Because ass. 
Ass, was right. 
And hip. And thigh. And bicep. And back. 
Steve is chugging his water, sweaty. His shirt is cropped, his shorts are short and he’s wearing a backwards baseball cap to keep his hair out of his face. 
He’s even got tube socks pulled up over his hairy calf’s. 
He looks like a spread from the magazine Eddie used to keep under his mattress. It was dog eared and kind of, maybe, a little bit.. Sticky. 
And Steve knows about the magazine. 
Steve knows what he’s doing to Eddie right now. 
Eddie glares at him over his largest they own coffee cup. It’s so early and the shirts a little see through. The shorts dig in to the softness at his hips, cut so high Eddie can see the smooth skin of his inner thighs. He watches the muscle and slight chub move when Steve shifts on his feet. 
Eddie walks up to him. Knocking his head between Steve’s beautiful, wonderful, hairy, sweaty pecs. Thud thud thud. 
Eddie groans. 
Why does his boyfriend have to be so stupidly, annoyingly hot right before work? 
Eddie wordlessly follows Steve’s lead and gets back in the car. He glares at the amused smile on Steves face, but then Steve checks all around to make sure the park is still blessedly empty and kisses Eddie sweetly on the temple. Eddie sighs, mollified, he can get over it. 
But then Steve puts his arm around the back of Eddie’s seat, swivelling to look out the back as he reverses. Eddie’s hit with his body heat and smell, all detergent and cologne mixed with sweat and musk and Steve. 
His broad chest right by Eddie’s head, a peak of pink nipple through white cotton, the chain Eddie got him for Christmas dangling into his chest hair. He’s so capable and in control, practical and smart and…
Eddie back at square one. He can’t get over it actually. It’s early and Steve is being a brat dressing like that. Being so hot on purpose. It’s so mean. 
‘You wanna stop for breakfast?’ Steve asks, voice light. 
‘Yeh.’ Eddie grunts, voice small, hands shoved in his jacket. 
‘What d’you want?’ and Eddie can hear the amused smile on Steves face again, his voice a little patronising. 
But Eddie doesn’t care. ‘You.’ He whines, resisting the urge to straddle Steve’s thighs and wrap his arms around his middle and squeeze him. He’d be so warm, and sweaty and soft and strong and perfect. 
They could just make out! Eddie could probably survive all day if he got a bit of tongue down his throat. 
‘Well, I’m getting a breakfast sandwich.’ Steve says, switching to drive and Eddie just whines again, burying his head in his hands. 
5.   
It’s a routine, Eddie doing this for Steve, to make sure his scars heal properly. They won’t ever fade fully but the ointment helps, the doctor said it would, and Eddie likes doing it. Sitting on the edge of the bed and having Steve stand between his thighs, shirt off before him. Eddie likes taking care of Steve like this. Likes that Steve lets him. 
‘You’ve got a new one.’ Eddie says, running the cream over Steve’s skin. 
Steve tenses, looks down at himself. ‘What?’ He asks, confused, a little stressed. 
Eddie hushes him, leans forward and kisses the skin below his bellybutton lightly, before smearing the cream there too. ‘Shh. Here.’ He prods the stretch mark that travels over the softness that now covers Steve’s hip bone, his fingers pressing into the give. 
Steve cranes his neck to look at it, squeezing the skin to inspect it. But he grips so hard, Eddie smacks his hand away gently. ‘Careful.’ He says. Petting over the redness Steve left. ‘That’s my sweetheart you're man handling there, show some respect.’ And he leans back to look up at Steves face. 
His cheeks are red and he looks annoyed, brows furrowed and lips pursed in a pout. ‘What is it love?’ Eddie asks, resting his hands on Steve’s sides. 
‘S’ugly’ Steve mumbles, moving his arms like he wants to cross them but Eddie shifts a little closer and Steve re routs to place them on Eddie’s shoulders with a sigh. 
Eddie kisses his stomach again. Kisses the stretch mark, the scars that travel over his waist. Does the same to the other side. ‘Nah.’ Eddie disagrees softly. ‘You’re beautiful Steve, all your marks are.’ And Eddie kisses his favourite mole, the one that sits below his left pec. ‘But this one’s my new favourite part.’ And he rubs his thumb over the red lightning bold, looks at Steve again. His eyes wide and glassy, his mouth relaxed into the pretties little ‘o’. 
‘Shows how much you’ve grown, how much you’ve healed. It’s all yours baby.’ And he watches Steve swallow, nod his head. 
Eddie goes back to spreading the ointment over Steve’s skin, taking his time, and when he’s finished he lays Steve down, pushing him into the mattress, breathing him in. Promising over and over that he’s so beautiful, so strong and amazing. That Eddie loves him, always has and always will. Until Steve believes him. Until every inch of skin is covered in kisses and praise. Until he’s writhing and panting in the sheets. Eddie kissing his tears away, their lips meeting, salty and slick. 
They fall asleep wrapped up in each other. Eddie almost fully drifted off but not before he feels a final, butterfly light peck on his throat. A little ‘thank you’ whispered into the skin. It’s so quiet he almost misses it. He pulls Steve closer, holds him tighter, and let's sleep take him. 
+1
On Sundays Steve makes breakfast. Or brunch, really, because they always sleep in. But breakfast food, late every Sunday morning. 
He always wakes up first anyway. So he starts cooking while Eddie gets another hour or so of rest. It’s like he stacks them up, needs them to get him through the week. The extra on Sunday allowing him a hour or two leeway for late night Eddie Time after his shifts. Steve doesn’t mind, lets him sleep. 
This week it’s french toast and scrabbled eggs, a little fruit, and, like every morning, coffee. 
Steve hears the telltale thud of Eddie stumbling out of bed. Hears his footsteps travel from the bedroom to the bathroom, and finally into their little kitchen. Where he feels sleep warm arms wrap around his middle. 
Steve smiles into the pan of eggs, Eddie resting his head between Steve’s shoulder blades and sighing. He always takes a long time to wake up, and he’s cute the whole time doing it. 
When he’s had his fill of squeezing Steve, sleepy hands wandering around his torso, head nuzzling against the soft cotton of Steve’s t-shirt, Eddie goes to pore himself coffee. Fills it with milk and sugar before shuffling over the the kitchen table. 
He sits in their creaky wooden chairs, huddled around his steaming mug, eyes bleary and hair a messy halo around his head. Eddie blinks his big brown cow eyes so slowly, staring at nothing. 
Steve turns off the burners and watches the soft spring light fall over eddies shoulders, leaving patches of yellow over his bare skin. Warming the mottled pinks and reds. A patch of light over his thigh, a golden window on the flannel of his low slung pyjama pants. 
his scars have healed well, even with all the grafting and scarring, the doctors managed to do enough to let him survive, let his body become what it is now. he’s stronger, looks healthier than he used to, all the physical therapy and three square meals a day gave him some more definition, more colour in his cheeks. but he’s still wiry, still pale and a little gangly, able to curl up into a ball or spread out and command a whole room. 
He has new tattoos too, stretching over scar and skin. Painting him on the outside with all the wonder and creativity he has swirling in his head. They’re so a part of him, such a perfect addition. The pale tones of pink contrasted with patches of inky black. 
Steve can’t believe it sometimes. That guy he saw in the lunch halls, the one he met in the upside down. Those awful months of Eddie in the hospital. To get to see him now, have him now, this Eddie Munson. His Eddie. 
Steve just. 
Steve can’t take it. 
He steps over, cradling Eddie’s cheeks between his hands. looks down and his loves face. Awed that he gets to see Eddie like this, before all that energy hits him, before his fingers start tapping and his feet need to move, to run, to jump. Gets to see him soft, and quiet and slow. Gets to see his eyes bright and glassy and teary and tired. Gets to see the hunch of his shoulders around his coffee mug, and the curl of his toes against the linoleum. Gets him at his rockstar and his sniffles, at his post work rant and his pre weekend buzz. 
He gets to see all of him. Hard and soft. Dark and light. 
It’s magical. 
‘I love you.’ Steve says, for the hundredth, thousandth time. Kissing Eddie on the lips for the millionth, trying to infuse him with everything Steve has, all the love, all the awe. Tries to put it all there in the kiss. 
When he pulls away Eddie’s sleepy eyes look that little bit brighter, his cheekbones dusted pink. The way they do sometimes when Eddie says Steve gives him “too much attention”. Like Eddie forgets, forgets how much space he fills up in Steve’s brain, his memories, his daydreams. How he can’t look at the sky day or night without being reminded in some way of Eddie. ‘So pretty.’ Steve traces his thumbs over the flush, the tips of Eddie’s ears, fingers trailing over his jaw and scarred neck. 
He kisses Eddie’s forehead and goes to plate the eggs, goes to finish their breakfast. Goes just so he can come back, hold Eddie’s hand, watch him wake up. 
He hopes to every morning. 
For as long as Eddie with let him. 
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tagging list: @pearynice @scoops-aboy86 @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor
also just bc i think you might enjoy: @babydollbaron @spectrum-spectre
title from the Maggie Rodger’s song ‘That’s where I am’ (it’s rly good u should listen to it)
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http-tokki · 2 months
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don't go insane
~ choso kamo x fem!reader (tattoo artist choso au) ~tags/cw: mature content, lil smut, explicit language, talking about the pains of being a woman (iud, pap smear etc), aged up yuji. ~ mixed/third pov ~ wc: 2.5k ~ part of need to know fic: chptr one
~a/n: very small chapter because believe it or not, this took so much mental effort to get out, I could not figure out how to progress it past the initial meeting but the next part is coming soon, this is a lil taster
Saturo was no help. A constant barrage of jokes flooded your phone screen in every form possible, with an encouraging text from Suguru slipping into the stacking text notifications, the former however was no help. The little goblin made of nightmares named Anxiety settled into the walls of your stomach, poking at the fleshy, spongey insides and giggling each time you clenched your fist. The repetitive motion usually calmed the nervousness, a habit developed in early childhood that had so far in life been a great distraction from the impending doom that seemed to encompass you each time you stepped a foot outside your front door, but today it was no help at all. Afraid of looking silly in front of two rather attractive men you find yourself abandoning the action in favour of a more discrete tactic, one you had vowed to give up in response to the scar tissue that had built along the inside of your bottom lip.
Getting out of the house these days was a little tougher and required more effort and energy to step out into the world and socialise, and that was okay; at least, that’s what your therapist tells you each time you fork over two hundred and thirty dollars for a sixty-minute session. It is all right to be a little uneasy when going out into the world because everyone else is just as unconfident in their footing, and you can only control your actions; the decisions made by others are uncontrollable and unplanned, and that’s okay. It’s all okay, it’s all fine. Fine.  You feel your lips pull down into a frown.
“Hey, you all right?” a voice asks from your left.
You turn to face the voice and are greeted by the smiling boy who had greeted you.
“Yeah, I’m okay, thanks,” a sigh whooshes from your body. “Just a little nervous about being alone is all.” You feel your mouth mirror the smile he gives you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”
“Yuji!” the boy beams and leans further over the counter. “And don’t worry, Choso is very chill; he’ll even let you pick the music if you ask!”
You genuinely smile at his childlike demeanour, and your stomach knots loosen a tad. Yuji is warm, his energy comforting and familiar as if you had met him once before, and come to think of it, he did look rather familiar to someone you had met when you were younger.
“Have we met be-“
“Did you want to – ohh, sorry. You first,” Yuji stumbles over his words, pausing and gesturing you to finish your thought.
“I was just going to ask if we’ve met before, You’re familiar.”
Yuji beams at your question but shakes his head, pink hair falling over his forehead. “I don’t think so, I would have remembered such a pretty face.”
Warmth blooms in your cheeks at the blatant flirting, and you’re flattered and maybe a little too old for him.
“Can you stop flirting with my client?” Choso walks into the foyer, holding stencils, ID, and consent forms in one hand, and a pair of grey slippers in the other. The shoes looked a little too small for someone of his size but they could just be normal size and look tiny in his gigantic hand.
Locking eyes with your artist, you finally get a good look at him and he is unnervingly beautiful in a way that you never thought anyone could be. Deep shadows cradle tired mulberry-hued eyes that are framed with thick lashes that fill you with no end of envy, and his face is exhausted and gaunt, yet the fullness of his cheeks and lips suggest that he is healthy and not malnourished in any way apart from sleep maybe. A raised but old scar ran over his nose, tinted a slightly darker shade than his porcelain complexion, but it was the imperfection, the rip in what is undeniably a beautiful artwork of a human, that made him all the more gorgeous and the hair, oh god, his hair. Raven-coloured locks fell to just above his shoulders in messy layers and pushed back from his face with a zig-zag headband that had your chest heating in both envy and desire. 
More heat spreads across your face, tinting your ears in a soft blush at the heavy emphasis on possessive adjectives, and you know he doesn’t mean it that way, but you can’t help your heart's racing.
 Yuji frowns, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout.
“She could be my client,” he turns back to you, eyes wide in asking “and Cho can supervise, I need the training.”
You frown, dramatic apology written across your features as you look towards Choso. In any other instance, you would be willing to sit for an apprentice but you had been wanting something done by Kamo for months now and as much as you didn’t want to disappoint Yuji, you wanted Choso’s work more.
“Not today, bro. I’m sorry.,” Choso beats you to the punch, slashing through his apprentice’s hopes to tattoo and score a date with one clean strike. “Ask Yuki when she comes in; she’ll let you.”
Yuji’s pout deepens, and you can’t deny he is cute, but maybe next time, when you need a little filler or you have some cash to spare. You share a frown with the pink-haired boy and turn to Choso, careful to avoid eye contact as he holds out your identification card and the pair of slippers.
“These are for you if you want to change out of the boots.” His eyes flick down to the heavy Doc Martens that adorn your feet. “You can go into the room, I’ve just gotta grab a few things from the storeroom.”
Oh, that’s why they were so small. You accept the shoes and card with a shy smile, thanking him quietly for the unnecessary kindness with the borrowed slippers and follow him down the small hallway. You want to say something, a small joke to fill the silence, but nothing comes to mind, your brain suddenly devoid of any thoughts other than how much you wanted him to pin you against a wall. Fire twists in your gut at that image. Strong tattooed hands pinning yours above your head as his mouth trails down your neck, nipping at the delicate skin of your throat, then collarbones, then chest. How easily he could rip the front of your dress open, hands groping and mouth biting.
“I’m just gonna duck out to grab some more ink cups but make yourself comfy. You can sit wherever until we put the stencil on.” Choso stops in the doorway of his space, gesturing into the room with an open palm. “Bathroom is down the hall” he jabs behind him with his thumb.
With a shaky breath in, you nod and step into the room, carefully avoiding any contact you might have with him in fear of possibly melting into nothing but a puddle of blood and bones. He gives you a tight smile before disappearing down the hall. How were you meant to have him tattoo you if you could barely hold it together when there was space between you both? Your skin is burning, tingling with whatever it was he made you feel and there was an ache so deep in your chest it hurt, but all those things could be anxiety, could be caused by the fact you were out of your element and not by the fact you were about to be tattooed by the most gorgeous human you had ever seen. Or maybe it was your body telling you that you needed to get dicked down by Choso Kamo. But anxiety and horny go hand in hand, right?
--
“Can you relax for me?” Choso’s request is soft and accompanied by small taps along your spine as he readies your skin for the stencil.
A shaky breath leaves your lungs as you whisper a sorry and roll your shoulders forward in an attempt to shed the stiffness that had taken over your entire body the instance Choso’s fingers brushed across your skin. 
Your poor body has not known relaxation since stepping into the small studio. Between the constant heat coursing through your veins, your heart racing to the point of panic and your stomach twisting so uncomfortably good, you couldn’t focus on anything apart from the man before you, well behind you. Initially, you had wanted the tattoo running along your forearm, having just enough space for the small dagger and wings but after Choso had suggested moving the piece to run down your spine, your mind had been changed. It was perfect! You had been wanting to get something along your vertebrae for months now but hadn’t found anything you loved enough to commit, until now.
 What you hadn’t accounted for was how it would be tattooed. You had very well thought you would be lying face down on the bed, Choso hovering over you as he inked your skin but that would have surely been murder on his back and judging by the looks of him, he was not ready to make that sacrifice, so now you sit comfortably on a small cushioned stool, hunched over the bed to allow Choso access to your bare back.
 Oh my god, you weren’t going to make it through the appointment.
--
Warm hands are laid flat against your shoulder blades and you flinch, unaware you were going to feel the full weight of his hands on you.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean-“Choso rushes to apologise, removing his hands as if having them on you was a great offence.
“It’s okay. You just scared me, I didn’t know you were going to touch me.”
“Oh, uhh is it- am I going to “he struggles with the sentence, unsure as to how to word his question without sounding like a misogynistic asshole. “Are you going to be okay with me touching you? For the tattoo!” Choso all but shouts the end of his question, the clarification sending heat to both your cheeks.
“You can touch me, it’s okay.” You nod, perhaps a little too feverishly than you wanted to but you needed to ease his worries that you might be that kind of client. 
The kind of client that flinches at every pass of the gun and begs for breaks every ten minutes. You know first-hand how embarrassing it is to watch someone cry and whine because of a tattoo as if the pain was unbearable and unavoidable. You had suffered through years of period pains, laser hair removal, IUD insertions, pap smears, getting smacked in the boob right before your period, eyebrow threading and so much more and even then, you refused to make a sound. Almost passing out on the gynaecologist’s table when she rammed the measuring rod right up into the top of your uterus, and even then the only sound that came out of you was a small ouch. You refuse to be seen as someone who would flinch at a tattoo. 
Choso smiles back, restrained and small and you worry that maybe your over-enthusiastic consent may have contributed to that less genuine more annoyed retail worker smile and you find yourself starting to spiral into thoughts of needing to apologise and make up for the weird tension that now filled the room but that would be three steps backwards according to your therapist.
‘It is not your responsibility to figure out other people’s emotions before they have them and even then, it is not your responsibility to fix or change it’  
Each week you are reminded of that in that small corner office and you’ve heard those words so many times, you might as well get it tattooed on your arm to remind you of that fact.
So instead of opening your mouth and spewing word vomit everywhere, you smile back and take in a deep breath, nodding at your artist to continue prepping your skin for the stencil.
--
Choso sits behind you, gently laying the paper atop your skin, lining up the tip of the dagger with vertebrae, and he has to concentrate extra hard to stop his hands from shaking because he cannot place this stencil on you for the fourth fucking time. It had taken him three attempts already and not because of the size of the drawing or the curve of your spine, but the fact his mind wandered away each time his skin touched yours. Wandered to a place where no client should ever be found, a place reserved only for fictional characters and the occasional crush but here you were, front and centre in Choso’s mind. Bent over the tattoo table, dress pushed up just far enough for him to watch his cock sliding in and out of you, slick and precum dripping down your thighs and pooling on the sanitized floor below. Your hands grip the edge of the foam mattress, the other held behind your back fingers entwined with his as you whined and moaned, crying out Choso’s name as you barely held it together before coming all over his cock with a whimper.
The image has Choso’s cock hardening in his sweats and he curses the fact he decided to change into comfy clothes instead of the jeans he wore this morning. His attention needs to shift away from the thought of you and to the present reality of you. Looking up, he catches you already staring at him and for a split second, he freaks out and looks down at his crotch. Had he said something out loud? Or accidentally made it super obvious he was insanely horny for you?  The anxiety seems to do the job as he feels his dick softening, heart racing for another reason entirely.
“Do you need me to move or help you out with anything?” you timidly ask, brows furrowing in worry at the fact he had not been able to line the stencil up yet. Would he be okay to tattoo you? His hand did seem to shake a lot.
Choso shakes his head, puts down the stencil and reaches for the roll of paper towels on his station. “I think I've just had too much caffeine and it’s giving me a bit of a headache.” His gloved fingers pinch the bridge of his nose. “My hands don’t shake this much, I promise. This has never happened before.”
Yeah, he’s never had a client so insanely hot he has been unable to do this job. Choso was not going to make it through his appointment alive.
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theillusionmachine · 4 months
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Where Love and Confusion Begin (Ominis Gaunt x F!Reader)
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"Do you really think I could be that cruel and careless to you?"
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December 25th, 1893 The Yule Ball... Wear your best formal attire-
Everywhere I turned I seemed to hear about. Countless after countless bouts of excited, restless chatter would always manage to come echoing back to me. And while I understood why most would be excited about the prospect of a ball, I on the other hand couldn't help but feel... downright anxious about it all.
I knew it sounded silly, completely dramatic. Afterall, I had been through a lot worse things during my time in Hogwarts. But for some reason, my mind, my thoughts, my worries just couldn't relax. And when they did for a short while, they'd slowly begin to drift back onto one person...
Ominis Gaunt.
I was practically infatuated with the man. For a multitude of reasons, besides his obviously good looks. He was marvelously kind, had a whit so quick it could make your head spin, and could be snarky and sarcastic one minute. But caring and loving the next.
Ominis simply made it hard not to love him.
But he did, however, make it hard for me to even think about going to the Yule Ball with him. We were friends, close ones despite the fact that I had only been at Hogwarts for a couple of years. Our friendship would be something I'd always treasure, something I would never want to ruin because my love for him clouded my judgement.
And the thought of losing him because of that was enough to make me nauseous.
"Enjoying a cat nap, are we?"
I slowly cracked open one of my eyes, wincing slightly at the beam of sunlight that had been slowly warming me as I laid down in one of the many alcoves at Hogwarts. But once my vision focused fully, Sebastian came into view. Grinning down at me cheekily.
"I wasn't napping." I muttered, forcing myself to sit up. "Just enjoying the sun.
"You could've gone outside for that." Sebastian suggested, now sitting down on the floor too.
"It's freezing, you sit outside for an hour." I replied, a little too snappy for my liking.
But Sebastian wasn't fazed by my crass mood in the slightest. In fact, Sebastian seemed to find me to be quite humorous. "Aww, is someone missing their nap partner?" He teased, making me grumble in annoyance.
"Oh, shut it, I don't know what you're talking about."
Sebastian let an exaggerated sigh, leaning back slightly on his hands before continuing. "You both are insufferably stubborn you know that right? Ominis was in a terrible mood after History of Magic because you decided to ditch today."
I scoffed at Sebastian theatrics, not even bothering to hide the fact that I had rolled my eyes. "History of Magic is painfully boring, anyone who goes to that class will be in a ba-"
"History of Magic is tiring enough, but her not being their made it worse." Sebastian deadpanned, trying his hardest to imitate Ominis's tone.
"Well, I am very entertaining." I replied sarcastically. "And can you really blame me for skipping out on that class? I swear if I hear one more time how many wizarding cloaks were destroyed during the Goblin Rebellion, I'll lose whatever mind I have left."
"It's 632." Sebastian couldn't help but laugh at my less than amused expression.
"Are you finished? Or did you actually approach me to talk about something important?"
"Yes." He began, clearing his throat. "If you would stop changing the topic that is."
"I am not-"
"Ah, ah, that's the same thing Ominis said to me after classes. You two are so incredibly in sync today." Sebastian teased. "It's quite adorable really. He's moody, you're moody, you're happy, he's smiling up a storm, if you've disappeared to... god knows where, a majority of the time he's right there with you."
It annoyed me to no end how right on the money he is...
"What're you getting at Sebastian?" I questioned meekly, trying my hardest to ignore the flush I was beginning to feel on my cheeks.
"I think we both know exactly what I'm getting at." Sebastian spoke bluntly, raising up from the stone-cold floor. "Maybe you should ask him, Ominis can get into his head rather easily. And you know that can stop him from saying what he wants to."
Sebastian then walked away, leaving me practically dumbfounded on the floor.
Ask him... ask him... merlin I don't know if that idea made me feel better or worse. The idea of being rejected by him was painful. But maybe if I asked to go with him as friends that it would work...
"Sebastian, you might've actually had a good idea for once."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I had decided to skip dinner for the night, not feeling too hungry after the talk I had with Sebastian. I figured a moment alone would give me enough clarity to decide whether I'd actually bite the bullet and asked Ominis to the ball.
"Ah, there you. I was starting to think you were avoiding me."
But a moment alone in this school was a rarity... Of course, he was here... why wouldn't he be?
"Ominis, I figured you would've been in the Great Hall for dinner." I greeted, trying to keep my nervous laughter from bubbling up to the surface.
"Wasn't hungry." He answered nonchalantly, turning back to face the fireplace of our common room.
I stood there for a moment, in silence, completely unsure of what to say next. But Ominis beat me to it, filling the silence before I got the chance to.
"Aren't you going to sit?" He began, I hadn't even noticed he had turned his head again, his eyes somehow managing to land right on me.
Just like they always managed to do...
"Or were you really avoiding me?"
That sentence managed to snap me out of my tongue-tied state. That nervous laugh I held in before leaked out before I had the chance to stop it this time around. "You know I wasn't avoiding you."
I finally moved from my spot, walking over and sitting next to him on the couch. I couldn't help but gaze over at him. His hand was lightly raised in the air, his wand beaming red at the tip as a book rested in his lap. A small smile curved his pale pink lips, he looked completely at ease. Which after the past couple of years was a nice sight to see.
"You're nervous." Ominis muttered, and though his voice was soft, I couldn't help but tense up. "You keep bouncing your leg... I know you only do that when you're anxious about something."
"I didn't even realize I was doing it." I admitted, leaning back into the cush couch cushions.
Ominis copied my movements, leaning back against the cushions a mere moment later. His book was now abandoned, the pages of it turning carelessly on their own accord. "Something on your mind?"
I took in a steady breath; thankful it had not trembled like I thought it would. "Maybe." I answered coyly, making Ominis's small smile bloom slightly.
"Are those thoughts the reason I've hardly heard from you all day?"
damn it damn it damn it... think of something to say quick... don't come off as suspicious...
"Hey, maybe you were the one avoiding me. Last time I checked I haven't heard from you too much either today." I deflected, trying to sound humorous.
"Hmm," Ominis hummed. "You've got a good point there... but I have a reason for my... disappearance." He added vaguely.
I leaned forward trying to get a good look at his face. The shadows of the fire danced along his face, illuminating his marble eyes beautiful. His expression was humorous too, and I knew exactly why...
"You know I hate it when you leave me hanging like that." I grumbled, making him let out a smooth chuckle.
"I merely wanted to avoid the constant chatter of the Yule Ball is all. It's beginning to become a bit... excessive."
"You two are so in sync today."
I shook my head, trying to get the words Sebastian had spoken out of my head. "You're telling me, you should hear what I wake up to everyday as of late."
"I could only image." Ominis replied, chuckling once again. "I would rather not hear about something I know I'm not going to."
I could feel my heart sink at his words. I hadn't even thought of the fact that he might not want to go at all.
"N-not going to? Why wouldn't you go?" I questioned curiously.
"A blind person spending their night alone at a ball doesn't exactly sound to enticing to me."
"Oh." Is all I could think to say, I leaned back into the couch contemplating my next move carefully.
Should I ask him... what if he just really doesn't want to go. I don't wanna look stupid.
Screw it...
"Would you want to go with me?"
I tense at my own words, not daring to move to see Ominis's reaction. My heart was racing, so much so it felt as though my pulse was about to burst through my skin. And the silence I was met with after I asked was completely unsettling.
Merlin why did I listen to Seb-
"It's a bit untraditional for a girl to ask a boy to a ball, isn't it?" He pondered.
Okay, it's not a total no... that's a relief.
"Maybe, but it's not like that has to be a bad thing." I replied hopefully. "And besides, it'll be fun to go with someone who... so entertaining to you." I added, attempting to sound boastful, but it just came across as a bit... jumbled.
Another bout of silence came, and in those few moments of the quiet. Part of me wished I was a legilimens, so I could see what was going on inside his mind... so I could hear what he thought of all of this.
When finally, I got my answer.
"I think it'd be nice to go with you."
Oh, my Merlin he actually said yes...
I couldn't stop the smile that began to form, a bubbling shyness began to boil to the surface. And my heart still definitely felt like it was going to beat out of its chest. With what little shred of coolness I had left, I finally was able to reply.
"It's a date...
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Then, the 25th rolled around... a day I was dreading at one point. But now felt so excited about it that I couldn't sleep.
I felt giddy, or like a swarm of butterflies was fluttering throughout me. I felt restless, I couldn't stay in one place, and I fought the urge to not pace most of the night. But for some reason, I couldn't seem to care... and with every passing hour that I stayed awake, it just revitalized me.
Though, judging from the bags in my eyes, my body didn't exactly share the same sentiment I did.
But thank goodness for Samantha Dale...
I never would've guessed she had such a knack for Herbology. Yet, when she let me up into her dorm in the Ravenclaw tower, after we agreed to get ready together. A whole spread of concoctions was set up.
"You know there is such a thing as beauty sleep." Samantha teased as she stared at my reflection in her vanity.
She carefully places a mint green cream under my eyes, making a pleasant tingling sensation hit me. "That'll clear those bags up in no time!" She stated confidently.
"Thank you." I began to bounce my leg again as the nerves began to creep up on me.
"Nervous?" Samantha asked, sitting down on the edge of her bed.
"Is it obvious?" I asked in reply, letting out a shaky chuckle.
"Just a smidge." She spoke considerately. "But I don't think you need any reason to fret. I find you and Ominis to be a lovely pairing."
My eyes shot up from my hands to gaze at her and I could feel an eyebrow raise questioningly. "P-paring? as in?"
"A couple?" Samantha replied, just as questioningly as I did.
"Oh... we aren't together... like that." I muttered sheepishly.
Samantha chuckled, looking over at me incredulously. "There's no way! Honestly, a lot of people already assume you two are together."
"Really?"
Samantha scoffed, shaking her head at me. "Look, I've seen the way you look at him. And I've seen the way he is around you. People who aren't in love don't act like that."
"Hey, I'm not denying that I've fallen for him." I admitted honestly. "It's just... a hard thing to say to someone you've grown so close to."
Samantha just eyed me for a moment, seemingly taking my words in. "You think he doesn't feel the same way, do you?"
I felt my lips curve into a bittersweet smile. My sights falling onto my hands again. "It's hard to believe that he would."
"Hmm... but, you two are going to the ball together?"
I chuckled at her puzzled words before nodding my head. "Sounds maddening, doesn't it?"
Samantha was quick to shake her head, a sudden, bright smile coming second later. "Not maddening, but an opportunity. You should say something to him!"
"Eh..."
"No, no, just listen for a second!" Samantha exclaimed. "It'd be the perfect opportunity to, honestly this sounds like something that would be in a romance novel!"
"But this isn't a romance novel."
"Exactly! So, it'll be even more beautiful, when the pair of you are slow dancing... and the music and the others around you fade because all you can focus on is yourselves. And before you know it, you two will kiss."
That truly does sound picture perfect...
"Why would it be more beautiful?"
Samantha lovesick smile faded into fondness. "Because it'll be real, and I'll know that the love you feel will be real as well."
I took in a deep breath, trying not to get consumed by the possibilities Samantha planted in my head. But I simply couldn't...
"You have such a way with words." I huffed playfully. "So, I'm really going to do this? I'm... I'm going to tell him that I... love him."
Samantha nodded; her expression full of enthusiasm. "That's exactly what you're going to do! You'll arrive as friends and leave together reveling in love."
"Won't leave tonight as friends." I muttered moreso to myself to... pep myself up.
But Samantha managed to hear me. "Exactly." She spoke, her tone full of satisfaction. "Now, enough chit chat. We must get our hair done." She added, jumping up from her bed before walking over to me.
"Yes let's..."
As I gazed at myself in the mirror, and I felt the occasional tugs of my hair, my mind began to wander. And soon enough, it wandered right onto Ominis. I was sure he was being a lot more composed than me. But part of me wished that he was just as giddy as I was. Or had thought of little scenarios about how out night would go like I had.
But I seriously doubt that would be going through his mind..
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cross, shift, pull, tie...
"Ominis?"
Cross, pull... shift, tie
"Uh, Ominis?"
Tie... tie... tie...
"Ominis! Are you trying to fix your tie or choke yourself?" My friends' words were humorous. And I could hear him try to, but fail to hold back a laugh.
"I couldn't tell you honestly." I admitted, laughing myself as I attempted to tug my fingers out of the knot, I managed to get them in.
I could hear Sebastian begin to walk over to me before I suddenly felt a slight tugging on my undone tie. "You can slick back and swirl your hair into... merlin knows how many swirls; you can somehow manage to perfectly button hundreds of those tiny damn things. But you can't fix a tie?" Sebastian muttered humorously.
I let out an exaggerated sigh before I replied. "I can't be perfect at everything can I?"
"Oh, shove off." Sebastian rebutted, breaking out into a laughter. "There, now that looks like a bowtie... you're welcome princess." He added mockingly.
I sighed, attempting to give him a glare. "Don't call me that."
Sebastian bellowed out another laugh before his footsteps began to wander in our room once again. "What would you prefer I call you?"
"Not that." I scoffed, carefully sitting back down onto my bed.
My thoughts began to push to the forefront of my mind, and it didn't take too long for it to fixate itself on her. Since she asked me, I couldn't help but spend many nights thinking about us... about her. Or how tonight would go, if by the end of the night we'd still be nothing more than friends... or something more.
Merlin did I wish we'd end up being something more. I don't know how much longer I can keep up this... facade with her.
"Ah, what's going on in that mind of yours?" Sebastian questioned but before I even attempted to respond he cut me off. "Is it her?"
"When did you get so bloody... observant?"
"I always have been, dear friend of mine. You just never bothered to notice." Sebastian boasted, I could only imagine how cocky his demeanor was as he spoke.
"My apologies, I've simply been too distracted by all the dabbling in the Dark Arts you did." I replied sarcastically.
"Hey, I stopped... eventually." Sebastian grumbled. "S-stop changing the subject... you two are way too good at it. You must've rubbed off on her."
I simply smiled at his words, soaking in the thought of her once again. The smooth sound of her voice, her raspberry iris perfume, her touch. I could drown happily in the thoughts of her, day in and day out.
I couldn't help but not to... I was hopelessly in love with her. And part of me was terrified because of it. But it was a fear I was thankful to experience in some way, and I'd experience it time and time again if it meant I could have her.
But I knew it my heart that I would never get that lucky...
"You should tell her, Ominis." Sebastian suggested, taking me out of my head once again.
I shook my head at his words, doubt began to replace the feelings of fondness I felt before. "I don't know..."
"What's there not to know? Tonight is the perfect opportunity to."
"I don't want to ruin things with her." I muttered lowly.
"Trust me, you wouldn't." Sebastian reassured me. "And, it's better to say something to her now. 'Cause it'll eat away at you mate, and you don't want that."
"How can you be so sure?" I questioned, genuinely wondering how his mind could work so optimisticly.
Sebastian let out a soft scoff, as if he was stating the obvious. "Friends don't act the way you two act with each other. And last time I checked I never saw you and Anne cuddled up on the common room couch."
"Well-"
"Or had Anne playing with your hair while you napped on her lap."
"Okay but-"
"And I know for a fact that I've never seen Anne get... viscerally envious because she heard a group of girls talking about trying to slip you a love potion."
"Okay, okay, I get your point." I managed to speak, letting out a huff. "I understand what you're saying, I do."
"Ah, finally, you admit I'm right. Your life would be so much easier if you said that more." Sebastian boasted once again. "So, you're going to tell her tonight then?"
"I am." I spoke strongly, though I couldn't help but feel that doubt that had stopped me so many times before seep through. "I can't believe I'm going to, but I am."
Sebastian sounded thrilled as he let out an elated laugh. "Finally! Seriously, watching you two pinning over each other was starting to get old."
"Sorry for the inconvenience." I apologized, rolling my eyes at Sebastian's theatrics.
"Don't beat yourself up over it." Sebastian replied nonchalantly.
"Now let's get a move on, you don't want to keep your lady waiting too long now do we?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The second I left the Samantha's dorm and made my journey back to the Slytherin common room. It was like my nerves continuously dashed away with each step I took. I felt levelheaded, as cool as one could be. It almost eerie to me, how I felt so nervous one minute but then completely calm the next.
Things just... felt right, like whatever was bound to happen tonight was simply meant to be. And I couldn't wait to spend my night with him, gently swaying as time seemingly ceased to exist.
Damn Samantha and her romance novels.
"Well, someone knows how to dress up." I turned my head, following the sound of Sebastian voice.
But any reply I attempted to come up with was lost the second I saw Ominis.
Green looks amazing on him...
"Wow," I began, sitting up from the arm of the plush couch. "You look fantastic."
Ominis was stood there, that same, at ease smile I looked forward to seeing so much greeted me tauntingly. "I'm sure you do as well." He spoke gently, my hands were then lightly gripped and placed in his hold.
My eyes mindlessly wandered down to them, and the longer my hands were place in his the more I realized how warm his felt compared to mind.
"Well, on that note, I think I'll leave you two lovebirds alone." Sebastian teased, quickly exiting the common room soon after.
The silence that came after Sebastian left was comfortable. There was no pressure or... plaguing thoughts to think of something to say. It was as if we were taking each other in, or simply just wanted a moment to ourselves.
I began to trace the faint lines I could feel on his palms before moving over to the next. Ominis's smooth laughter came soon after, making me look up to gage his reaction.
"Reading palms now, are you?"
"Mhm," I replied, smiling softly. "You want to know what I see?"
"Yes, very much so."
"Okay, I see..." I paused, tracing over a particularly deep line, one that almost felt like a scar. "That you have great hands."
I could see that he was taken aback, but not uncomfortable. A light, red flush soon bloomed on his cheeks, illuminating his blue marble eyes.
"And, that your cheeks will glow with a marvelous red tinge." I added whimsically.
"Stop it." Ominis muttered, a light laugh following his meek words.
"Fine." I relented easily, smoothly dropping his hands before hooking my arm with his. "We have a ball to get to anyway."
It didn't take too long to find our way to the great hall, that had been transformed into an icy yet stunning ballroom. The sounds of the classical were an easy guide for the pair of us.
"There seems to be a lot of people here." Ominis spoke, I could feel his arm tense under my hold.
"Seems too." I replied nonchalantly. "Doesn't surprise me too much, after all, all we've heard about these past few weeks is the ball.
"I just... don't want to bump into anyone."
I took my eyes off of the crowd and back towards him. He looked nervous, unsure of himself.
Can't have that...
"Oh, don't worry about that, you won't." I reassured him, giving his arm a light squeeze. "That's what your lovely date is here for." I added teasingly, bumping my hip against his.
Though the worry was still evident on his face, Ominis had begun to smile. Hopefully I was able to ease his nerves slightly. "You definitely are lovely."
"Hmm, so are you." I complimented, before gently guiding him through the crowded hall. "More than lovely." I grinned as I saw his cheeks flushed again.
"Darling..." Though he sentence stopped once I did, finally managing to find an open enough place to dance.
Wordlessly, I clasped his hand, Ominis seemed to catch onto what I was doing and was quick to glide his hand from my ribs to the middle of my back. My breath became caught in my throat at his touch and my posture straightened.
Don't tense, don't tense... we're just dancing.
"Is this okay?" He nearly whispered; I hadn't even noticed how close we were to each other, as we glided... cheek to cheek.
"P-perfect." The breath that was got in my throat finally escaped as I spoke. "Wouldn't want to be in this embrace with anyone else."
"I don't think you mean that." Ominis stated bashfully, delicately turning us around before we began to glide again.
"I know that I do." I answered defiantly. "I honestly couldn't imagine dancing with somebody else."
"Really?" He didn't sound completely doubtful this time around, honestly, he began to sound a bit humorous.
"Are you doubting my honesty, Ominis?" I asked, trying to match his playful tone.
"No, no... i just think you haven't... considered your options." He replied carefully, trying his best to articulate his words.
"Hmm, let's me think then... Amit? Nice, but no. Garreth? He's nice as well but not my type... and he's definitely into Natty."
"Sebastian?" Ominis chimed in, his face becoming void of much emotion.
"No, I imagine he'd step on my feet all night. That sounds less than pleasant does it not?"
"You have a fair point." Ominis agreed, before a slightly sinister grin took over. "Leander."
I grumbled at the mention of the infamous Gryffindor's name, the vibrations of Ominis's laugh could be felt soon after. "Don't make me retch."
Ominis's hand began rub circles into my back, I began to smile at the sensation, closing my eyes as he began to lull me into relaxation.
But then...
"So, why, would you choose me?" He asked, my eyes opening once again.
"Wh-why are you-"
"I just want to know." He cut me off gently. "It's been baffling to me as to why you chose to go with me."
"Because I know you-"
"You know Sebastian quite well."
"Not in the same way I do you... not in the same way that you know me too." I explained, finding it hard to believe I was starting to be so open about something I was so used to shoveling down.
But I wasn't going to stop now.
"You... you make me feel safe, and I know that I can trust you with anything I come to you with."
"I'm not always the most... understanding with some of the things you've spoken to me about." Ominis argued, as if he was trying to downplay my points.
"And I love how honest you are with me. You don't fill me with false confidence, or some... mindless delusions. You're my voice of reason, my tie to reality."
His grip began to tighten on my, and I could see his jaw begin to tense. "Reality isn't always the sweetest."
"You make it sweet."
He stopped his movements at my words, his eyes shut, and his head lowered, shaking. "Stop it." He muttered lowly.
"Why?" I spoke quietly. "Why do you want me to stop?"
"You don't mean it, you, you can't mean it."
"You know I'm no liar." I stated bluntly. "I mean every word... and I mean it when I say that I love-"
A harsh bump made the pair of us stumble, our hold finally coming apart. My words fell mindlessly, like the many specks of enchanted snow that surrounded us.
"Oh I'm sorry!" A voice spoke, clearly beggining to panic at what they had just done.
"It's fine don't-" The sound of hurried footsteps stop me once again, and I didn't need to turn around to know who they had belonged to. I didn't bother to try and finish my sentence, instead opting to hurry after Ominis before I lost him completely.
That wand really did imprint this place in his mind...
I could hardly keep up with him as he ran through the mostly desolate hall. The only people who were lingering in them were broken hearted girls, and the occasional... handsy couples.
Thankfully, before Ominis could fully disappear from my sight. I managed to see him slip outside into the courtyard. I hurried toward the large double doors, hoping I had the chance to catch him.
"Ominis wait!" I called out, my breath desperately trying to calm itself.
He was at the now frozen fountain, leaning against the stone tensely. "Why are you doing this to me?" He asked through clenched teeth.
I stepped down from the snow-covered stone steps, carefully approaching him. "Doing what?"
"Toying with me like this!" His voice was trembling, and he was clearly upset.
Was I too forward? Did he not take what I was saying seriously?
"Toying with you?" I repeated distantly. "Do you really think I could be that cruel and careless to you?"
He turned his head toward me, his eyes seemingly swimming in emotions he was struggling to contain.
"Ominis, my emotions, what I've said tonight, was never a game. It's real to me and it always has been." I admitted, feelings of vulnerability began to creep in. "I- I honestly, don't know how much blunter I need to be for you to believe me but, whatever it takes I'll do it!"
"Darling," Ominis called out fondly, he took in a deep breath before he continued. Most likely wanting to compose himself. "I'm sorry I... It's my mind toying with me, not you."
I grasped his hands, gripping them in hopes of emphasizing my point. "Well, tell your mind to stuff it." I huffed, Ominis bit his lip, holding back a bout of laughter.
I then laid my head against his chest, and I felt him rest his against mine soon after. "Friends don't act this way with one another, do they?" His voice was deep, vibrating slightly through his chest.
"No... and most don't cuddle by the fireplace or... spend all night talking, not even caring about how exhausted they felt because... they were with each other.
I felt him drop my hands from his before his arms wrapped themselves around me. "I treasured those nights, you know that?"
"Feelings mutual." I spoke against his chest, taking in a deep breath of his cologne. "And I hope they're still mutual when I tell you that I've fallen in love with you, Ominis."
My heart at that point felt like it was about to burst through my chest. But at the same time, it felt as though a weight had been lifted off of it.
I had never felt so free yet so... terrified at the same time.
One of his hands that had been embracing me began to travel up my body. Undoubtably leaving goosebumps in its wake. My jaw was then cupped, and my breath stuttering once I felt his thumb gently tugged on my lower lip. Before gently tilting my head up toward him.
"Definitely mutual." Ominis muttered, his lips tauntingly ghosting over mine. "Is this okay, love?"
We weren't leaving tonight as friends.
I closed the gap that kept our lips apart, and with that action, my breath dissipated with it. But I honestly could care less about that. Not when it was stolen away because of Ominis, not when he every touch of his lips and hands warmed nearly every inch of me.
Not when I found out that he actually loved me too.
He pulled away a bit too soon for my liking. A tremor quaked through my body. And I couldn't tell if it was cause my body was finally aware of the cold. Or if I simply missed the sensation of Ominis's touch.
Ominis attempted to warm me up, rubbing my arms as he pulled me closer to him once again. "Cold? Would you like to head back inside?"
A mindless smile curved my lips, a hazy wave of lovesickness came soon after. "No, being here is perfect... nearly perfect."
"Nearly? What can I do to make things picturesque for you?"
"Just... kiss me again, please."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hello, I hope you all enjoyed this fic. It was actually a request someone sent in, and I absolutely loved writing it!
Sorry if there were some typos. I tried to proofread it as I went along but sometimes things slip by me. I have another request sent in that I'm going to work on next. But if you liked this one and had an idea of your own. Send it in and I'll gladly take the time to write it for you! Until next time, Illusion.
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5sospenguinqueen · 3 months
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CURSES & CONFESSIONS - GARRETH WEASLEY
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Summary: The four times people told you Garreth was in love with you, and the one time Garreth did. Slytherin F!MC. Seventh Year.
Fandom: Hogwarts Legacy
Warnings: Fluff, unrequited love, shitty writing.
Word Count: 4957
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#1. Imelda Reyes
Rolling her shoulders back, MC exhaled deeply, hoping to ease some of the tension in her form. The incessant nattering of her roommate was doing little to help her efforts. Side by side, the teammates trod across the dew-dusted field, unbothered by the growing moisture on their shin pads. Morning mist clung to strands of their hair; both of them sporting green ribbons securely tying back their long locks. The Quidditch field loomed in front of them. The cheers of their fellow students beckoning them forward. Having spent the entirety of Sixth Year begging, Imelda finally convinced her competitive friend to join the Quidditch Team as their final Chaser. 
Imelda noticed the steps of her friend falter as they drew nearer. “The first game is always nerve-wracking but once you mount your broom, all worries about impending injuries vanish.” 
“Very reassuring, Reyes. Why not just tell her to take a Bludger to the head?” Sebastian Sallow commented, long legs easily catching up to them. “It’s a good thing it’s not your job to give motivational speeches to the team- Oh, wait… Maybe that’s why we lost the House Cup last year?” 
Slinging his arm across his friend’s shoulders, he grinned down at her ashy face. “Merlin, you almost look nervous,” the Beater jeered playfully, poking her in the cheek.
MC frowned, a crease forming across her brow. Goblins? No problem. Giant trolls? Easy. Embarrassing herself in front of the majority of the school? Mortifying. 
“Shut it, Sallow. We’re not going to lose this year. We have the ‘Hero of Hogwarts’ on our side.” Imelda’s tone was teasing, watching her friend chafe against the title she had earned in their Fifth Year. And hated ever since. 
Eyes landing on the Quidditch tent, Imelda honed in on a smattering of red lingering outside the entrance to the changing rooms. His dark eyes were trained on the muscular arm that Sebastian had draped around MC, ready to storm over and rip it off. 
Loudly, Imelda declared, “Besides, we’re playing against Gryffindor today. We already have the upper hand against them.”
“Is that so? Do feel free to share with the group.” Leander’s haughty tone broke through the cacophony of excited spectators.
The trio turned to find him looking down at them, arms crossed against his chest. Garreth flanked his left side, expression at odds with the relaxed posture of his body. Gravitating towards the mop of red curls, MC discreetly shuffled towards him, close enough to see the condensation forming on his robes. The cool air clashing with the natural heat of his body.
Similarly to the Slytherin Beater, Weasley had undergone an enticing transformation over the summer. Even whilst slouched against the wooden beam behind him, he towered over her. The second-hand uniform that used to hang loosely on his frame, now strained against the broadness of his shoulder, pulling taut at the muscles of his biceps. When she lifted her gaze to his, he offered a genuine smile, green eyes twinkling. Her brow smoothed, eyes lightening as she smiled back at him. 
“You may be an awful strategist, Prewett, but I know better than to give the enemy important intelligence. Why would I share my secret weapon with you?” 
“I hope you’re not referring to the little witch cowering behind Sallow. If so, you’ve lost already. After all, magic is banned from Quidditch and without her extra magic, she’s not very skilled.” 
Garreth clenched his fist, knowing his friend was only trying to intimidate the group of Snakes. Punching his teammate before the Game began wasn’t the best way to win the Quidditch Cup. 
“She is going to kick your arse for talking about her like she’s not here.” MC glared up at Leander. “I didn’t realise you were so eager to relive the humiliation I dealt you at Crossed Wands, which I did without extra magic.” 
Garreth sniggered, covering it with a cough before his Captain could scold him. Opening his mouth to retort, Madam Kogawa interrupted, yelling out that there was two minutes left until the start of the Game. Prewett dashed inside the tent, remembering he still needed to strap on his knee pads. Sebastian followed closely behind, muttering about how badly he needed to piss before climbing onto his broom. 
Shifting awkwardly on his feet, Garreth hated how his large frame made his discomfort more apparent. Both women turned to look at him as he moved, unable to move subtly anymore. Having noted the trepidation on his Potions partner’s face, he wanted to offer words of encouragement. Except her Captain was looking at him as though she were plotting all the ways to throw him from his broom. The trees swayed as the wind picked up. Not the best weather for a first match. 
“Don’t get blown away out there.” Garreth internally cursed himself.
Why did his mouth insist on saying the stupidest things his brain conjured up? Instead of telling her how he wished she had a good match. How some part of him wanted her to win so that he could revel in her joy. 
An alluring spark flickered in her eyes as the competitive side of her was ignited. “Have a good game, asshole.”
“You too, Princess,” he called out after her retreating figure. The scent of her shampoo filled his nose as she brushed past him. He watched her go with a dopey grin on his face, unable to wipe it off before Imelda walked past him. She didn’t look at the redhead but he watched the Slytherin Captain shake her head in disgust, knowing it was aimed his way. 
“Forget everything I said about keeping an eye on the Quaffle.”
“Excuse me?” MC questioned, turning to face her friend as they entered the Slytherin section of the changing rooms. “Doesn’t the defeat the purpose of my position?” 
“Your new job is to tail Weasley.” Imelda had a wicked smirk on her face. One that usually accompanied words of insanity. “Weasley has been infatuated with you since you stole the Fwooper feather for him. And, as much as the babbling buffoon bothers me, once he’s in the air, he’s exceptionally talented. I need you to put a stop to that. Whenever you’re around, you’re the sole focus of his attention. I’m not even sure he’s aware of it.”
The flaps to the tent rolled back, allowing in bright bursts of sunlight. Emerald and maroon robes filed out onto the grassy pitch. 
“You’re so full of shit.” MC muttered, pushing aside the way Imelda’s words made her feel.
The only response she received was a knowing smile before Imelda slowly sailed out of the tent, and into the roaring crowd. When the whistle blew, MC was further convinced of her friend’s dishonesty. Dashing after the Quaffle, she was elated when her hands were the first to wrap around the ball. Darting across the sky, she was unable to dodge the mass of red barrelling towards her left side. The two collided. She released the Quaffle, dropping it into Natsai’s awaiting hands below. Tightly grasping the handle of her broom, it took all her strength to avoid tumbling off it.
Oblivious to the Quaffle sailing past his head, Garreth’s attention remained on MC until he was confident she wasn’t plummeting to the ground. Furious eyes snapped up in his direction but he simply winked at her, flying back into the fray. He attributed the red tinge of his cheeks to the biting wind. Not the fact that his skin heated from where it had made contact with the beautiful Snake. 
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#2. Natsai Onai
Sunshine illuminated the two Seventh Years lounging in the Transfiguration Courtyard. Bags and outer robes discarded by the bench, the pair of them curled up on the neatly-trimmed grass. Taking a much-needed break from studying, the pair of them soaked up the warm rays. Even though it was only two months into the school year, NEWTS were bogging them down. So, instead of discussing the terrifyingly long Potions essay they’d been set, the pair were gossiping about their fellow classmates.
Entering the Courtyard, Garreth was alerted to his friend’s presence when her familiar giggle reached his ears. His head whipped round, searching for her.
“Is it true that Sebastian has a basilisk inked onto his back?” Natsai asked, when MC’s laughter upon hearing about Leander’s disastrous date subsided. Her hands weaved a small pile of flowers together. 
MC lifted her head up from the cushion she had transfigured her cloak into, squinting at her friend. “Pardon?” 
“Some of the Ravenclaw girls were discussing it in the Library. I may have overhead, and decided you would be the best person to ask.” 
“And you thought to ask me, and not Ominis? Why do you think I am the most knowledgeable about Sebastian without a shirt?”
A dark shadow fell over her, stealing away the warmth that had likely burnt the skin of her nose. 
“Who’s seen Sebastian without his shirt on?” Garreth dumped his bag beside MC’s before collapsing onto the grass beside her. His hand picked up a strand of her hair, twirling it between his fingers absentmindedly. “Can you believe the length of Sharp’s essay?” 
MC smiled up at him, amused by his actions. 
“I was just asking whether MC could confirm the rumours regarding Sebastian’s tattoo,” smiled Natsai, watching her housemate’s reaction closely. 
“The one on his back?” Garreth’s jaw ticked, fingers dropping the hair. “Why have you seen him shirtless?!”
Without letting MC reiterate that she hadn’t seen Sebastian without a shirt, Garreth spoke again. His teeth clenched tightly together as though the words pained him. “Although, I suppose the pair of you as a couple makes perfect sense. You would compliment each other nicely.” 
MC pulled herself into a sitting position, eyebrows knitting together. “What is that supposed-?”
“Oh, Garreth! We need another player for Gobstones.” Poppy shouted across the Courtyard, waving eagerly at him. 
Wanting to escape the bubbling feeling in his chest, Garreth excused himself, clambering to his feet before his mouth blurted out anything else he might regret. Watching the redhead make his way towards Poppy, MC felt a nauseous feeling arise in the pit of her stomach. 
“What was all of that about? Sebastian and I? Together? Merlin, it would be like dating a brother. A really annoying brother.” MC rambled. “And, could he have escaped us any faster? You would think he hadn’t seen Poppy in months instead of a couple of hours.” 
Guilt coursed through her at the ugly thoughts she was possessing, not enjoying how the idea of her friends together was making her feel. Poppy was a delightful witch, and if Garreth were to date anyone, MC couldn't think of someone who could be nicer. 
Natty snickered at the words tumbling from her friend’s mouth, watching her suck in a deep breath. “They were playing Chess in the Library earlier, but you had your head buried in your Herbology book.”
“Oh…” A dejected look overtook her face, watching the dark-haired witch laugh loudly at something Garreth said. “I wasn’t aware he felt that way about her. Although, I suppose it’s impossible not to like Poppy. She’s the sweetest. Now that I think about it, he is always patient with her, and they do spend a fair bit of time together. I think everyone should love Poppy. Oh, no… I’ve been trying to convince Ominis to tell her how he feels about her, but clearly that would be counterproductive if she and Garreth are courting. I wouldn’t want to interfere with that. Not when he looks so happy and-”
“My friend,” interrupted Natty. “Breathe.” 
Natsai looked at the witch across from her, wondering how somebody who had duelled Rookwood and survived, could be so oblivious to someone she looked at every day. 
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” 
“What is going on with you and Garreth?”
“Nothing. We’re just friends.”
The fact that she didn’t ask for a further explanation told Natsai everything she needed to know. She shook her head in disbelief. “I have watched that boy almost snap his neck because he heard you laugh and wanted to see what was causing it. Even worse, I watched him smear mashed potato over his face because you walked into the Great Hall, and he was too busy watching you instead of where his fork was going.”
“I remember that,” mumbled MC to herself, before turning back to her friend. “It is sweet of you to try and boost my ego but Garreth and I don’t feel that way about each other. Poppy was next to me that day in the Great Hall. He was clearly looking at her.”
Natty enjoyed the discomfort on her friend’s face. MC clearly didn’t understand why the idea of Garreth and Poppy was so unsettling to her but Natsai certainly did. She just hoped the pair of them would figure it out soon. She had done her best to prompt her friend but it was not her place to declare the redhead’s love. That was something he needed to do himself. Ignoring the knowing smile on Natsai’s face, MC’s eyes zeroed in on the flowers in her hand. Changing the topic of conversation, she commented on the beauty of the flower crown. The Lion leaned over, placing it atop the Snake’s head. 
“I feel like a faerie princess.”
“I believe you are as frightful as one sometimes.”
“Oi! I haven’t duelled anyone in two whole days.”
“A new record.” Natty deadpanned. 
MC laughed, loud and clear. Fumbling his gobstones, Garreth’s head snapped up. His lips quirked into a smile at the joy on her face and the flowers in her hair. He paid no attention to the foul-smelling liquid spraying his robes. 
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#3. Sebastian Sallow
Legs aching, MC wished she was curled up on the couch in the Undercroft, reading to Ominis. That was how she was supposed to be spending her frosty Sunday. Instead, she was trudging along the icy pathway to Hogsmeade, eager to get to J. Pippin’s Potions. She’d overheard Garreth complaining that he was out of Bicorn horn and his latest experiment required some. Unfortunately, he had managed to land himself in detention for the first weekend of December. Professor Sharp hadn’t been overly impressed to find his hair transfigured into snakes, having been on the receiving end of the redhead’s latest concoction. The redhead had spent all of dinner last night complaining about his plans for the day had been ruined. 
Wanting to surprise him, MC decided to brave the harsh December weather to go for him. Because that was what good friends did. Nose pink and goosebumps dotting her arms, she snuggled further into her scarf and cursed when she slipped on black ice. 
Large hands wrapped around her arm, pulling her upright. “Remind me how you managed to save Hogwarts when you can barely stand on your own two feet?” 
“Are you stalking me, Sallow?”
“Absolutely. I bet you’re glad for it now.” Sebastian grinned, falling into step beside her. 
“Only because you saved me from cold and bruised buttcheeks. I shall sorely miss the peace and quiet though.” 
Sebastian pressed a hand to his chest in faux offence. “You mortally wound me. Even more so upon discovering you failed to invite me on your little outing. I thought we agreed you would stop fighting Ashwinders and Poachers alone,” he scolded. His expression turned questioning when she continued past the Forbidden Forest, instead of venturing into it as he had expected. 
“Fret not. I’m simply running errands today.”
“Even better. Any adventure with you is thrilling but the best ones involve Butterbeer and free samples from Honeydukes. Are we looking for anything in particular?”
“I need to stop by Pippin’s,” mumbled MC. 
Whilst she enjoyed Sebastian’s company, and was pleased that he preferred outings to Hogsmeade than skulking around Catacombs these days, she’d slipped away quietly that morning in the hopes of being alone. Only because she hadn’t wanted to explain what she was doing. 
“I thought you stocked up on potion supplies last week? Don’t tell me you’re out already.” Sebastian chuckled, eyes honing in on the blush staining her cheeks.
Damn him and his perception, she cursed. 
Clearing her throat, her spine straightened. “I’m not actually going for myself. Garreth mentioned he was low on some supplies.” 
“Where is your boyfriend? Why isn’t he accompanying you?”
Pace picking up as they neared the Wizarding village, she prayed that the sight of Honeydukes would be enough of a distraction to keep Sebastian from prying too deeply into the meaning behind MC’s deed. She, herself, wasn’t willing to look past the fact that she wanted to help out her friend. “He’s not my boyfriend,” she protested
To her dismay, Sebastian persisted, following her down the cobbled streets. “Have you told him that?” A gleeful grin lit up his face. 
“What are you blabbering on about?” 
“I happen to have it on good authority that he spent the entirety of Potions convincing Andrew Larson not to ask you to Hogsmeade today. That’s why he messed up his potion. For once, he wasn’t brewing his own recipe.” 
MC stopped in the middle of the path. Sebastian smacked into her back with a soft ‘oomph’, unable to slow down in time. “That’s why he’s in detention? Why would he do that? I’m not complaining because at least I didn’t have to find a polite way to deter Andrew but…”
“Why would you decline Andrew’s offer? Perhaps your answer is the same reason why Garreth convinced him not to ask in the first place.” 
“Or maybe you’re listening to gossip again, and they got it wrong. Who is this so-called good authority?”
Sebastian’s smirk deepened. “Ominis.”
“Oh.”
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#4. Ominis Gaunt 
Splattered with mud, strands of hair slipped from her low bun, sticking to the sheen of sweat coating her face. Her entire body groaned in protest as she and Poppy sullenly made their way up the stairs before the Great Hall. Neither were feeling particularly victorious despite having saved all animals caged up in the Poacher camp. When Poppy had suggested Flooing to Irondale to dismantle a Poacher camp, the two witches had thought they would return before dinner, pleased with themselves and the good they had done. Instead, dinner was in full-swing and all the witches wanted was to reach the Hospital Wing without detection.
The three Wiggenwelds they had taken with them were long gone, and yet numerous injuries remained. Poppy had taken a nasty hex to the chest, and MC hadn’t hesitated to shove all three of the healing potions into her mouth. Unfortunately, that meant there had been none left over for when she was thrown from a platform, body slamming into the hard ground. Despite her twisted ankle and Poppy’s bleeding forehead, they had managed to get back to the Floo flame but were deposited all the way down at the Boathouse. 
“Is that blood?” A horrified voice exclaimed.
Footsteps hurried over to them. Warm hands reached for her cheek, pulling her face into the light so that green eyes could inspect the cut marring her face. Beside her, Ominis was reaching for Poppy, wand waving to assess the damage. 
“Don’t worry. It’s not ours. Well.. not most of it.” 
“Is that supposed to reassure me?!” Garreth shrieked, looping his arm around MC’s wait to help take some of the weight off her swollen ankle.
The two men accompanied their wounded witches to the Hospital Wing. Easing MC onto the stiff white sheets of an unoccupied bed, Garreth dashed into Nurse Blainey’s office, dismayed to find it empty. Tugging at his curls in frustration, he paced back and forth, fretting about his friends. 
“Gar, it’s dinnertime.” MC reminded him, voice soft and comforting. “She’s likely in the Great Hall. We can wait, we’ll be fine.” 
“No, you can’t,” he said firmly. “You’re injured.” Pain shone in his bright green eyes. 
Demanding that Ominis keep a close eye on them, (to which the Gaunt boy promised he’d do his best, prompting MC to giggle), Garreth announced he would go hunt down their healer. Before MC could ask him to stay with her, he was dashing out of the infirmary, robes flapping behind him. She didn’t care about the pain. She had just wanted him to stay. 
“I do believe he genuinely forgot how to breathe when he caught sight of you hobbling into the castle. I almost thought I was going to have to carry all three of you into here.” Ominis spoke up, hand twitching as he fought against the urge to reach for his favourite Hufflepuff. 
“He did go rather pale when he looked at us,” snickered Poppy.
MC shifted, easing her body into a more comfortable position. “Yes, well, you seem to have that effect on him.” She winced, attributing it to the heat lancing down her spine. Nothing to do with the words she spoke crushing something deep in her chest. 
“I don’t think it’s Poppy that makes him forget oxygen is vital to living. Regardless of how adorable she is.” Ominis drawled, taking joy in the pink flush blossoming across Poppy’s cheeks. 
“I told you she was oblivious.” squeaked the Hufflepuff. 
MC scowled, discontented with the running narrative that she was unobservant. Her perception had saved Poppy’s life earlier, and her body was bruised enough to prove it. It was as if her friends had teamed up to insult her consistently this year. 
Fed up with everyone tip-toeing around the fact, Ominis decided he was no longer waiting for her to figure it out. “Please tell me that you are aware Garreth is in love with you, and has been for the past year.” 
“If not more.” Poppy chimed in, supporting Ominis’ decision. The rest of the gang decided to let Garreth tell her himself but Poppy knew he would never do it. 
“No, he’s not.” 
Ominis snorted. “He’s so infatuated with you. Even a blind man could see it.” 
“You are blind.” 
“Exactly. And I can see it.”
“You can’t see anything,” shot back MC.
She shot her tongue out at him immaturely and whilst he couldn't see it, he had the sense to lean over and punch her in the shoulder. He shrunk back in terror when MC winced and a furious voice reverberated off the flagstones; amplified for his sensitive hearing. 
“Why the fuck would you do that. She’s already injured, Ominis. I asked you to look after her whilst I was gone.” Garreth thundered, storming in.
Poor Nurse Blainey was rushing to catch up with him. A slice of carrot cake was cupped in her hand, having been grabbed just as dessert was served. 
“Mr Weasley, you made it sound as if the poor thing was on death’s door.” Blainey scolded, saving the blind wizard from Garreth’s wrath.
The healer took MC’s ankle in hand, examining the swollen ligament and apologising as the Hero of Hogwarts gasped in pain. Poppy wrapped a hand around Garreth’s wrist to prevent him from trying to push the healer away.
──────── . ☆ * ☽ * ☆゚. ────────
#5. Garreth Weasley
Mended and amused by the tension in the room, Poppy thanked Nurse Blainey for healing her before taking her leave from the Hospital Wing. MC had insisted that Poppy be seen to first, despite the Hufflepuff being mainly mended by the earlier Wiggenwelds. MC watched her and Ominis leave, hand in hand. A pitiful sigh escaped MC’s mouth as she watched them. That’s what she wanted. Someone who loved her enough to hold her hand in public, propriety be damned. The only issue was that she would only be satisfied if it was with the man beside her. The man who was also watching the new couple go, an unreadable expression on his face. Most likely agonised over watching the woman he liked walk away with another man. Ominis had finally worked up the courage to ask Poppy to accompany him to The Three Broomsticks. 
“Best drink it all in one go, dear.” Nurse Blainey advised. She had mixed numerous healing positions into one foul-smelling tonic, handing it over in a wooden goblet. “You’ll have to stay here for the night whilst your fracture mends but Mr Weasley is welcome to stay with you until curfew. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m hoping I can catch the end of the Feast. I’ve been looking forward to the choir all week.” 
Thanking the healer, MC immediately mentally cursed her when she swallowed the contents of her cup. The vile taste of the potion had her gagging, coughing loudly. Instantly, Garreth was there, a glass of orange juice in hand to chase the taste away. He had listened to MC recount the events of her fight - and the extent of her injuries - to Nurse Blainey in complete silence. Even now, he said nothing as the door shut behind the healer. The loud click echoed in her ears, reminding her that the pair of them were entirely alone. 
“You don’t have to stay with me. I’m sure you have better things to be doing.”
Garreth nodded but made no effort to move. An uncomfortable silence settled over them for the first time since their friendship developed. Their time together was usually filled with babbling antics and loud laughter. Now, the pair struggled to string a sentence together. MC’s hands moved towards each other, Garreth’s eyes tracked her movements. Fingers cracking her knuckles, she was desperate for something to focus on. Something aside from the hollow look in Garreth’s eyes. His hand shot out to still hers, and stayed there. His fingers enveloped hers, curling around her. As if he were grounding himself, reminding him that she was still here. Her heart stuttered in her chest. The tissues in her ankle slowly started realigning, pulling a pained gasp from her mouth. The sound dragged an anguished noise from Garreth’s chest. 
“Garreth, are you okay?” She whispered, concerned by his unnerving silence.  
A bitter laugh escaped his mouth. “Me? You’re the one who had to drag herself back to the castle, injured.” 
“I’m fine.” She grabbed his other hand when he turned his head away in disbelief. Garreth’s eyes instantly shot to hers. “Look, I’m alive. Unharmed.”
“But you weren’t!” He snapped. “You went out, alone. In the dark with only Poppy as your backup, and the pair of you came very close to not coming back.”
Her eyes stung at the harsh tone directed towards her. She chalked it up to being overtired and emotionally drained. Not because she felt as if she were being reprimanded. 
Garreth charged forward, oblivious to the look on her face. “I spent all evening looking for you, worried out of my mind because nobody knew where the pair of you were.”
“I told Sebastian-”
“Who was hidden away all day in some secret underground only you and Ominis know about!” 
Infuriated that tears were still pooling in her eyes, MC snapped back. “I don’t have to tell you where I am every minute of every day. You’re not my keeper! If you’re concerned that I’m dragging Poppy into danger then you should take that up with her! Besides, she’s the one who suggested we go. She made it quite clear it didn’t matter if I came or not so I went for her safety.”
“I don’t care about Poppy!” Garreth exploded, not meaning it in the way it sounded aloud. “Why must you bring her up in every conversation we have? Godric, you make it so hard to care about you sometimes.” 
MC sniffed before icily responding. “Then don’t bother. Walk away, Garreth, I’m not your problem.”
Garreth stood, and she thought he was going to listen to her, and leave. She didn’t truly want that but if she were such a burden- The pot at the end of her bed sailed across the room, smacking into the floor with a loud thud. When he turned to face her, there was no anger on his face. Only anguish. He wasn’t mad at her. He was furious with himself, for not being honest. For not being able to say the words desperately hanging to the tip of his tongue. If he had told her the truth last year, perhaps he would’ve been with her at the Poacher camp. Maybe he could have saved her from the bruises welting her back. 
“You don’t understand. I want you to be my problem. I want to worry about you, and I want to drag you to the Hospital Wing when you’re injured. Although I would really prefer you remain unharmed. But because I want to hold you in my arms afterwards, knowing you’re safe. I want to comfort you when defeating Poachers doesn’t go the way you expected. I want to take you to Hogsmeade, and hold your hands around the shops. I want to see you laugh, and know why you did so. And, I want to kiss you before a Quidditch match and when you win, even if that means I’ve lost. You are the cause of all my distractions, and the only regret I have is that you fail to understand how deeply I care for you.” 
“But, you and Poppy and seem so close?”
Was that really all she could say, MC chided herself. 
“Because she’s been trying to convince me to tell you how I feel.”
“Oh.”
“I love you. I am so deeply in love with you that every potion I’ve invented for the past year smells like you.”
And, as his thumb brushed her cheek and he leaned in closer, MC truly believed Garreth Weasley loved her. 
201 notes · View notes
tugoslovenka · 5 months
Text
Safehaven
Summary: You have felt a little insecure in your situationship with Halsin as of late. Fortunately, the druid seems to have taken notice—and takes some steps in consoling your fears and self-consciousness.
A/N: I just want to say this was something of a self-comfort fic. I don’t often see plus size/fat bodies in these fics (I’m responsible for doing the same in all of my work too) and I felt like making active efforts in remedying that. Especially when it comes to Halsin. With that said, obviously don’t take this as anything other than an exercise in writing something different. All bodies are beautiful, I just want fat ones to be more represented in fiction sometimes.
This is also my first time writing in second person and I must say, it’s very unnatural for me to do so. But I hope it at least tickled someone’s pickle.
Also available on AO3!
The tent was haphazardly made. Having lived in Baldur’s Gate for most of your life, nature was not where you felt most comfortable. Although, this entire adventure has been an exercise in understanding yourself ever since the Nautiloid crash a couple of weeks ago. Sometimes you felt utterly useless, having to trek through some of the rougher parts of this strange land. Other times, you felt strong—a leader, even, among your companions. It was an odd feeling, stepping in to mediate a confrontation, consoling others or simply having others come to you for advice.
The anonymity brought upon by the abduction slowly turned into a journey of self-discovery. Baldur’s Gate was too big a city to truly achieve the passions you wanted to. But out here, in the middle of nowhere, with strangers who are equally as confused as you, it’s different.
You’re different.
The shadow looming over you brings you back to the sound of crackling fires and whetstone against metal. In tattered leathers, Halsin stands, a hand outstretched towards you.
“Yes?” you ask, following the bulging veins on his arm until you note some of the scarring on his shoulder from today’s goblin encounter. Your eyes quickly divert to meet his—warm brown, with a speckle of ember that almost glows at night.
“Where have your thoughts leapt?” He cocks his head to one side, observing you with care. The druid had an uncanny ability to sense your discomfort from a mile away. You sometimes wondered if he had an infinite supply of Potions of Mind Reading, topping up each hour just to ensure he was inside your head at all times.
“Oh?” you quip, hugging your own body in response. “It’s been a long day, I suppose.”
He kneels down, blocking most of the light from the campfire. With elbows resting on his thighs, he continues to stare. Instinctively, you raise your knees until most of your body is covered. You wrap your arms around them, placing your chin in between. His eyes simply follow your movements.
“Is that all?” He turns his hand until his palm faces you, offering it in case you felt the need to hold it. You always did, but embarrassment or pride often had the last word in the conundrum of comfort.
Halsin never pushed you to share more than you were willing to, and so very quickly, he retracts his hand. The air is particularly chilly tonight, and even though you handle the cold better than most, the goosebumps spreading on your skin prompt you to involuntarily shake when a gust of wind passes by.
“I do not mean this to offend you, but your tent is…” he trails off, looking at the deflated fabric that could serve as a second blanket if need be. “... Not very—”
“—It’s shit, I’m aware,” you chuckle, letting out a yawn when you feel the shakes come again.
Halsin smiles. Almost immediately, you grin back at him. There is something so captivating about the wrinkles on the sides of his face showing each time he is chuffed with your comments. He would call them ‘direct’ even though you knew he probably meant rude. Not that he would allow himself to say so.
“I was going to say not very safe,” he corrects. “I can feel a storm brewing below my feet. If it encourages the bunnies to burrow, then I imagine it will not be pleasant.”
“After all this, dying from drowning by rainfall sounds rather embarrassing.” Your hands begin to rub your shoulders in an effort to raise your body temperature.
“I know we have both been rather busy as of late, but I do miss you, little one.”
Little one. Your teeth grit at the sound of it. It takes the willpower of a thousand suns to not bite off a chunk inside your cheek when he says it. The first time he did, it was following a particularly generous indulging of your cunt—when he refused to be serviced in return—and wrapped you in his arms instead. A thank you, he called it, for aiding him in the fight against his captors. The second time was after your face was painted in his seed, scorching hot like the anger he had for Kagha’s activities in the Grove. A kiss on the forehead followed. The third time was during a cuddle atop one of the particularly beautiful outlooks near the settlement—where he Wildshaped into a bear to keep you cushioned against the uncomfortable floor.
It was frustrating. Never have you felt so secure yet vulnerable with a person. At times, he made you feel like the most unique flower in a gardenia of preciousness, and yet he almost seemed frightened to touch you. You couldn’t remember the last time his touch was wanting, and it had been a month since your last indulgement.
“You certainly don’t act like it,” you murmur, scooting away until you felt your back hit the tent—or whatever was left of it.
Halsin’s eyes narrow. You have studied his expressions well enough to know this was his way of practicing his thoughts before he felt comfortable enough to speak out loud. He opens his mouth to utter a protest, but the loud cheers from Karlach interrupt him. You both turn to see the tiefling using a stick to gently pet over Scratch’s head, squealing in excitement when he drops a ball with a bark.
You take the time to disengage.
“Nevermind.” Standing, you pat away some of the dirt on your thighs and pull down your top, careful to pull at the bottom until it covers the bits you want it to. The druid is quick to follow, and you find yourself blocked by his giant frame as he looks down at you with concern.
“Come,” he instructs, limply pointing towards a direction away from the camp. “Follow me.”
“Halsin, it’s late and if this storm is—”
“Please.” 
You relent. With a groan, you lean down to pick up the giant blanket one of the tieflings knitted as a farewell present and wrap it around your front. Halsin is the first to move, occasionally looking back to check if you’re nearby. Once you’re far enough that the noise from camp turns distant is when his hand intertwines with yours, squeezing a few times to offer reassurance. 
Rolling your eyes would have been the appropriate response, were it not for the exhaustion you feel in fighting the inside voices and the man responsible for them.
The journey is spent in complete silence, though the tension in the air could be cut with a knife. It takes some time until you reach a nearby creek. Halsin lets go of your hand once you reach a spot he finds appropriate, but not before giving it a gentle kiss. He tells you he will take precaution in scoping the area for any threats. You take the time to sit on a nearby rock, curling the blanket until it covers every inch of your body save for your head.
It doesn't take long. The approaching footsteps catch your attention and you see the large druid return with a couple of branches. He kneels next to you, using some of the nearby rocks to create a campfire.
“I know you are upset with me,” he murmurs, striking two sharp stones against one another until sparks fly in the air. “But I wish to understand why.”
You sigh. “Halsin, is this the time?”
“I miss you,” he retorts, continuing to smash the pebbles more aggressively this time. “And I cannot bear this tension.”
“Tension?” you scoff. “I’m perfectly fine.”
“No, you are not.”
Another spark.
“And how would you know?”
“Because I know you.”
More sparks.
“Do you?”
“It would help if you allowed me to discern what troubles you.”
A flame. A small one, followed by smoke that quickly blows in the wind. Halsin finally turns to you, one knee on the ground as he rests his body weight on one hand.
“Do I trouble you?” you challenge, gently rocking your knee in frustration.
His expression softens. “What?”
“It does seem practiced for you to whisk me away somewhere where no one else can see us any time you want to show me affection,” you snap. “I wonder if I’m the trouble here.”
Halsin shakes his head. The fire next to him begins growing until you feel a wave of heat in your direction.
“You are… anything but. What would make you say that?”
You shrug, pressing your lips together. Either he was rather oblivious at his actions, or just well-rehearsed in the responses he typically gave. You see him searching your eyes, darting left and right as though they would give him the sense he sought for.
“When was the last time you touched me in front of everyone?” you ask, voice lowering barely above a whisper. “When was the last time you touched me with purpose?”
“My heart, you misunderstand,” he responds, inching closer until you can smell the salt and earth his body carries. “My lack of affections have nothing to do with you, but with—with… well, me.”
Another excuse. One that you’ve heard many times before.
“Of course,” you scoff, turning your gaze to the creak nearby.
He reaches through the blanket until you can feel his hand tightening around yours. “Look at me.” 
You do so, reluctantly.
“I have lived for many years. I have taken many lovers. You are not some conquest I keep on a tab of many. I have—the shadow curse, it has been preoccupying my daydreams and nightmares. It has nothing to do with you.”
Your eyes narrow. “Then why come to me in the first place?”
He takes a few minutes before answering. “Passion. Attraction. Long lonely nights that needed—”
“—So that’s the reason. You needed a quick release.”
“No,” he quickly interrupts. “You are much more than a passionate night. But that’s precisely why I don’t wish to rush this. I don’t want you to have the wrong idea.”
“And what idea is that?” you arch an eyebrow.
“That somehow you are a quick solution for my frustrations. Yes, I am lonely and I have been, ever since I’ve had the Grove responsibilities thrust upon me. And yes, you have ignited a spark within me that threatens to explode into a wildfire.” Halsin’s thumb begins circling your hand. “But you are also wonderful. I can hear you speak about your love of painting until I grow old. I can watch you playing with those tiefling children until my eyes wet with tears. I can’t bear to see you fight, because my heart tears each time I see another scar on your body.” 
You search his eyes for deceit, the corners of which begin to sparkle in the dim moonlight. He curls his hand until it’s holding yours tightly, while his other reaches to touch the side of your face. You’ve always compared the rough skin on his palm to tree bark, and you would have melted into his touch were it not for the many questions you felt necessary to ask.
“It has nothing to do with the others or with you. I would happily cradle you in my arms each day, professing my adoration for you the moment the sun’s rays illuminate the skies until it dims down to the blackness of night. And I apologize that I have not done that.” His thumb rubs small circles on your cheek as he speaks, making sure to stare at you as though speaking to your soul.
“Do you mean that?”
“I do.” He tugs on your hand until you allow him to pull it towards his lips. He gives a gentle kiss on your knuckles, leaning his cheek against them. “I was not aware you wished it of me.”
You shake your head. “Much more than that, Halsin. I want you to crave me,” you profess. “I sometimes feel like you’re not willing to take the extra step. It’s as though you pull back from me when I need you most.”
He nods. “I do, but that’s mostly to contain myself. I may be an old bear, but there are some parts of me that I cannot fully control. I don’t wish to cause you any harm should it come to it. I am especially prone to outbursts at this time, given the circumstances.”
You pause. Halsin has sometimes spoken of his drawbacks—the side he’s not proud of as he would say—of being a druid. His Wildshape afforded him many conveniences, though even you have seen the yellow glow of his eyes at the height of his emotions. You didn’t mind it. In fact, you often had to squeeze your legs together to suppress the gushing need that rose from there at the very thought of it.
“Alright…” you trail off, forming a fist with your free hand, letting the anxiety rest there. “I suppose I’m not used to this. I more so felt you had changed your mind—didn’t find what you were expecting.”
“What do you mean?”
You nod towards your body in gesture. It takes him a short while before he understands the meaning, and quickly reaches to rest both hands against your cheeks. He shakes his head. “No. Never. You are important to me, attractive to me, as you are. What a privilege I have been bestowed upon, having mattered to you this much.”
With some apprehension, Halsin begins tugging at the large fur that covers most of your body. It easily slips down, allowing him full view of your frame, curled against yourself. He reaches forward, touching your neck first, dragging a finger from your chin until he reaches the shirt that covers the valley between your breasts.
“All of you—your softness, your plumpness, your swell,” he mutters, leaning until you feel the surprisingly soft lips against your skin. He inhales deeply, lips hovering over your left breast. “It does not matter. I love every bit of it.” Taking a hand, he reaches in the spot between your waist and hips, squeezing delicately. Instinctively, you jump at the discomfort, but he quickly stills you.
“Halsin, you don’t have to say any of this.” The nervous chuckle betrays you when your hand grabs his in an effort to move it aside. To this, he only hums. Before you have time to react, both hands tear the front of your shirt until your upper body is exposed to the elements. The same slow instincts fail to cover it, because his hands have tightened around your wrists before you can do so.
“Besides,” he continues, easily holding you down when you try to move your hands away. “Your voluptuousness makes for a greater resting place for all the seed I’m going to spill on account of this night.” 
Immediately, you stop fidgeting. Blinking a few times, it takes a moment for your brain to understand what your ears have perceived. The druid takes the opportunity to lean forward and take one of your breasts in his mouth. The contact makes you hiss, and still, you are unable to move from his grip. Instead, you moan, not caring for the loudness. His tongue has always been exceptionally good at weakening you. You can feel him twirl it around your nipple, followed by a light teething that prompts you to buck your hips forward.
“Halsin,” you moan, attempting to release from his hold for a second time. Fluttering your eyes closed, you lean back until you feel the tree trunk against your shoulder blades. He follows, not allowing you a moment of peace as he swirls his tongue over your hard nipple. Biting down, he begins suckling at the soft skin when you attempt to close your legs together to satisfy the ache between them.
With a pop, he releases your nipple, cheek resting against the skin as he looks up at you.
“Would you like that?” he wonders, a gentle bucking of his hips making it evident he too was seeking friction. “For me to show you how much I truly crave you?”
You bite your lip in response, hard enough that the metallic taste starts swirling somewhere inside your mouth. Nodding slowly, you attempt to tug away once again, and this time the druid allows it. With newfound freedom of movement, your hands find themselves fisting his messy hair when you propel yourself forward, landing on your knees and capturing his lips in yours. He is solid as stone, unmoving when you do so, and only grunts when your tongues find each other.
Hands begin roaming—his, yours—over soft and hardened bits, frantically looking for somewhere to rest, to hold. Halsin’s are particularly active, first finding your hair, then your cheeks, then your shoulders, then your hips, before finally resting at the front of your belly. You cringe and suck in air on impulse—habit. It only makes him squeeze harder.
“This is the body I have adored since the first time you granted me permission to touch it,” he growls, pulling away from your heated kisses. “I have hungered for every inch of you. Through sleepless nights and anxiety-ridden trips, I have grown to know this is what I want.”
Responding in full sentences is not an option. Not when he dips his head, trailing kisses along your belly, on the folds that he so carefully grabs hold of with one hand—while the other pushes itself through the confines of your trousers to find your soaking nub. Delightful cries escape your lips when he begins circling his fingers, putting enough pressure until your eyes roll in the back of your head from the feeling.
“The stream of pleasures you produce, I will lap like an animal starved,” he coos, free hand pushing you to sink lower, until he has enough space to lodge himself between your legs. “Then I will fuck you until you are mute from screaming. Are you content with that, my heart?”
Gods above and below, you think. You can only nod, and you do so, rather vigorously. The chuckle that escapes his lips seems to contend him for now, and so he momentarily leaves your aching clit to help free you from the confines of fabric. Resting slanted, partway exhausted and panting could not have been a sight to behold, but Halsin’s bulge spoke differently.  
“Please…” you beg.
“No need to beg,” he comments before standing up, hands finding the belt on his pants until they release the cock that bounces lightly against his stomach. “There is nowhere I would rather be than inside you.”
The very thought of having him rut into you was an occupying thought during most evenings. And despite the bruises your throat suffered for days the last time you attempted to take him fully, the gush of wetness sounds the night at the thought of your cunt choking it.
“Spread your legs,” he instructs. “I need to see you.”
You sit up, carefully aligning your backside until you are able to find a somewhat pleasant spot to rest against. Halsin’s hand reaches for his throbbing member, where you spot a bead of pre-cum forming at the tip. He uses his thumb to spread it across his head, letting out a low groan as he does so. Needing no further encouragement, you spread your legs per his command, carefully analyzing his features and how they soften when you present yourself to him.
“Praise Silvanus,” he says, almost to himself. “How beautiful you are.”
Following his line of sight, you look down to see the mess that you have become. Glistening in the fire and moonlight, there is a trail of wetness that begins at your drooling hole, leading in both directions of your thighs. The druid clears his throat, and when you gaze up, you see the faintest glimmer of yellow light leave his eyes as he shakes his head. Letting go of his member, he drops down on his knees in front of you, staring at your pulsating cunt.
The heart that threatens to escape your chest follows the same rhythm between your legs. It’s craving to be touched—to be adored—and as though listening to your thoughts, Halsin leans in to give a soft kiss to your right thigh. Then your left. You look down to meet his eyes, as he meticulously drags his tongue where his lips first kiss, with enough hunger in his eyes to make you audibly moan at the sight.
 “I thought,” you gasp when he bites at your inner thigh. “I thought you said I wouldn’t have to beg.”
“No, but I will indulge in this for as long as I can,” he responds, scattering kisses in painstakingly slow fashion at the soft flesh of your thighs. He uses both hands to hold them, and with no effort on his part, sinks you lower on the stone until you are halfway lying down on your back. With legs in the air, he takes his time to study you.
You can see his hips moving rhythmically despite the control he attempts to assert, as though urging him forward. Still, he takes one hand to glide over your stomach, moving lower until it finally meets your center. You immediately hiss, pushing your head against the rock at the gentleness he offers. With two fingertips, he begins circling your clit again, while his other hand holds your leg in the air for support. 
“How warm you are,” he says, picking up the pace once he finds you are able to squirm too much for his liking. You push your pelvis forward, needing more friction. “How much warmer you will be when I spill all of myself into you until morning comes.”
Intelligent thought leaves your senses the more he speaks, you writhe and moan like a wanton sinner. This seems to please him, and so with no real warning, he slides not one but two fingers inside you. Your head raises to look between your legs, but you are met with the druid’s intense stare as he leans in to kiss your neck.
Closing your eyes, you allow yourself to indulge in the explosions that are firing inside your head. His teeth find their mark at your throat and he begins sucking away while his fingers pump in and out continuously, the heel of his palm slapping against your slickness with each thrust. You don’t notice when, but his other hand has found your nipple, carefully pulling at it to elicit a scream loud enough to be heard in Baldur’s Gate.
“Halsin!” you moan, incapable of saying anything else at the intensity of his ministrations. He smiles against the nape of your neck, biting before moving to kiss your lips instead. Your tongues battle—indulge—in one another’s mouths as he continues this delicious assault on your senses.
He breaks the kiss suddenly, resting his forehead against yours. You whine when he pulls his fingers out of you, noting the considerable lack of fullness he has provided.
“I need to prepare you for me,” he sighs, hands reaching out to his throbbing member once again. He lets out a moan when his soaked hand begins pumping the tip, where you now see a considerable dollop of pre-cum mixing with your juices. “Do you think you can handle three of my fingers, little one?”
His fingers were particularly attractive to you. The way he would whittle with enough dexterity to preplex you. The grip he held his staff with each time he would cast a spell. The roughness contrasting your soft skin any time he would touch any part of you. Though, he had a particular love of stuffing you with them, as you have come to find.
The beads of sweat forming at your temples coupled with the messy hair and half-opened eyelids was enough to define you as fuckdrunk, that you were sure of. Even still, you steel your will enough to nod in his direction.
“Is that a yes?” he muses, fingertips finding your clit once again.
Proud bastard, you think. Smacking your lips, you utter a simple, ‘yes’. It’s barely a whisper and you think he doesn’t register it, but quickly find out his movements are much faster than your reflexes. Three fingers push themselves inside you, and a thumb finds your clit as he continues to stretch you to what seems like impossibility. 
“Sing for me,” he sighs. “I want the spirits in these forests to awaken to the sounds of your pleasure.”
“I need you inside of me,” you mutter, mustering up enough strength to look at him again. “I want you inside of me.”
“Soon,” he assures, quickening his pace until you feel the familiar pressure pooling at your entrance. “I need you to let go first.” As though compelled to, your body releases, all manner of reason escaping you as your screams are carried by the wind of the woods. Legs trembling, you lose control of every limb as you pant, completely encased by a coating of fulfillment you thought long gone.
Halsin only watches you, whispering something your ears do not pick up. A faint buzzing interrupts all manner of sound as you relax your body until he’s able to catch you in his arms before you land on the ground. The firmness of his chest greets your cheek, where you are able to pick up his racing heartbeat.
“Are you spent for tonight?” he asks, hand sliding up your back until it reaches the back of your head.
Quickly, you shake your head. “No. I’m just… I didn’t expect this, is all,” you confess. He hums in approval, and positions you atop his thigh while still kneeling. Your leg bumps against his hardness and he hisses, praising the Oak Father’s blessings before turning to look at you.
“You’re pooling for me,” he smirks. “Had I known you were this eager, I would have done this long ago.”
In response, you begin grinding against the flexed muscle, grabbing hold of his bicep to steady your rhythm. It didn’t take long for the need to take hold, and you soon find yourself moaning as you continue moving against his thigh. You glance down to his cock, licking your lips at the sight of the dribble going down the shaft.
As though challenging him, he swiftly grabs hold of your waist, pushing you onto the cold ground with a soft thud. You lay there, blinking up at him. His hand caresses the curve of your body until it reaches your core. There, he spreads your lips apart, sighing approvingly when he hears the squelching sound of your desire for him. Using a finger to trace your cunt, he lifts it to his lips and begins licking away without breaking eye contact. 
“So tender, so delicious…” he comments, sucking his own fingers until only his spit coats them.
You attempt to shimmy, feeling the stickiness of his cock meet your folds once you move closer to him. His head drops at the contact, a growl escaping his lips when he looks down.
“Can you take me, my heart?” he questions, grabbing his member and lining himself at your entrance.
You bite your lip, taking the moment to admire the beast of a man whose cock was prodding at your entrance—tapping with feather-light touches, enough to drive you to moan.
“Yes, please,” you beg again, searching for grace in his expression—the grace that would compel him to fuck you.
He pushes slowly, enough to give you the accommodation you know you will need. Once you feel him coating himself in you is when he finally moans—deeply—slamming a hand against the dirt to restrain himself. Halsin was thickest at the top, and his mushroom-like head felt as though it split through every fiber of your being even with caution. To say you were not expecting him to split you apart so early was an understatement, but when his hand finds your clit, your wincing turns into mewing as you attempt to swallow his every inch.
Taking the time to push and pull against his cock to the same rhythm of your breaths, you find that the druid has some trouble keeping calm.
“You are a tight little thing,” he chuckles. “Let me in. Open up for me.”
His instructions help you relax enough so he can guide his tip inside you. Once there, you let out a long exhale, suddenly aware of the sweat coating your body. The chills going up your spine are soon replaced by hot flashes once he hits a particularly delicious spot on your clit and you grab a hold of his wrist with both arms, keeping him where you most desire.
“I can feel you squeezing me,” he moans. “While I rather appreciate the snugness of this predicament, I would like to bury my seed deep inside you.”
To this, you only groan. Halsin uses his free hand to wrap around your throat, keeping himself steadied as he positions himself fully on top of you. With one more look, he slides himself deeper, and you wince at the size that is piercing through your core. He growls, tightening his grip on your throat as he attempts to exert some control through sheer willpower alone.
Your eyes roll in the back of your head when a second wave of pleasure coats your body, and you open your mouth to scream. No sound comes, but you feel yourself loosen up completely, giving Halsin the chance to push past until he is buried to the hilt.
The pain that you momentarily feel turns into bliss. You ride the orgasm, clutching onto his wrist as you pulsate on his cock, which only encourages him to push deeper—as though he could. Any further and he would surely be inside your guts. Every ridge, every vein, every curve on his member jabs at your insides, teasing every spot deep inside you—stretching and filling you until you may just burst.
He doesn’t dare move, not yet. He heaves, chest rising and falling as he waits for you to settle. You reach up, touching the fuzziness on his muscles, tracing your hand until it reaches the side of his face. He’s warmer than you know him to be, and you smile at him reassuringly when he gives you a questioning look.
He doesn’t continue.
Instead, you feel yourself being lifted from the ground, yelping as Halsin grabs a hold of you with one arm, positioning you so that you straddle his waist while the other rests against the curve of your ass, keeping you impaled on his cock. You find the prickliness of the tree hit your back and he settles you there before pulling out completely.
The loss of contact causes you to whimper. You look down, finding him slap his member against your folds, slowly pushing between the sensitive nerves, but not enough to enter.
The sound that escapes your lips is part frustration, part eagerness. The arm holding you up is firm, keeping you steadied with no effort whatsoever.
“You have no idea,” he sighs once he traps his tip between your folds. “How much I wish you rut into you. To fill you.”
“So do it,” you provoke, rolling your hips until you feel your entrance beginning to consume him. “I need you to cum inside of me.”
Halsin snarls and straightens you both, hitching you higher until he finds a comfortable spot. With one push, he settles inside you, slowly bouncing you—breasts jerking in tandem with his thrusts. You note his stare and fist his hair, pulling him forward until he captures a nipple into his mouth. Sucking away, you moan at the intensity building inside you for a third time.
Your clit feels sensitive, as though a bruise being rubbed continuously. The only reason your legs are managing to hold is because of his grip, otherwise you are certain they have gone numb. But Halsin shows no mercy, reddening the flesh with his love bites, creating a line until they reach your throat. You feel his fingertips digging into your skin, but whatever pain you will feel tomorrow is nothing in comparison to the euphoria that’s electrifying you. His thrusts become sloppy, hips hitting against yours as he mutters something incomprehensible.
“Take me,” he commands.
Two strokes.
“All of me.”
Three more strokes.
“By the Oak—”
He doesn’t finish his words. A gushing of hotness overwhelms your cunt, as thick, spurts of cum cover your insides. You feel it hitting your most sensitive parts, coating you until you feel the urge to also release. He slams a hand next to you when he stills, bursting with enough seed that you feel certain would plug you entirely. Glancing where his cock meets your core, you see some of it spill out, dropping on the mud between the druid’s legs.
Halsin leans forward until your foreheads touch once again, heaving from the exhaustion that surely has taken hold by now. You push against him, encouraging him to move and allow you room to land on your feet—or at least try to. With a wobble, you balance, spreading your legs until you’re certain you won’t topple over.
The looming figure in front of you suddenly lowers, and you watch him kneel between your legs, focusing intently on your stomach. He presses a kiss there, before saying, “This is good, but not exactly what I had in mind,” he taps against the softness. “I need to fill your belly until it swells completely, full of my cum.”
A shiver runs up your spine. With a finger, he reaches for your entrance, as though examining you. He tuts. “It seems I have my work cut out for me, little one,” he laughs. “Keeping you stuffed is what I intend to do for the rest of our nights together.”
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spencerdaze · 9 months
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'Labyrinth' and how trauma makes us search for escapism
Welcome to 'Mikaela please log off' where i talk and overanalyze movies because i'm unemployed. In today's hell of a post, i'm going to talk about probably my favourite movie and one that has shaped me for my entire life: 1986 'Labyrinth', with musical numbers written and performed by none other than Miss David Bowie himself! SPOILERS AHEAD.
Now i've seen this movie more times than i've seen my own face in the mirror. It's a movie i enjoyed in my childhood and certainly one that has shaped me, with how the puppets have a certain uncanny feel to them almost and how crazy and whimsical the whole movie is. It trully is an amazing movie that can be enjoyed by children, but also by adults as well, with many of the movie's themes and meanings being hidden or something you find with experience or relate to later in life. Because the movie is a very clear reference to fairytales like Wizard of Oz and Alice in Wonderland, is no surprise to know there are many, many different readings that can be done to it. The firts reading i made of the movie when i rewatched it as an adult was that the movie was a very clear allegory for growing up and maturing, having to leave behind your childhood but also keeping in mind your inner child so that you don't lose yourself in the labyrinth that is life.
While the allegory reading is correct, and i think it's one of the meanings behind the movie and certainly the most obvious theme, it's definetly not the only one. One thing kept me wondering after watching the movie this time: Why is the phrase 'You have no power over me' so important? It's used in the beginning of the film, with Sarah forgetting this line in her book, and by the end, when she's facing Jareth, Sarah remembers the phrase by herself, clearly showing us as viewers the inner power Sarah has over her life. It's obvious this line is meant to represent Sarah's ambition and power, but why is it this phrase? Whi is it You have no power over me and not something else like 'My power lies within me' which could tie to the end of the film, with Bowie's Within you playing? Well, after rewatching it recently, i figured it out: Sarah isn't just talking to Jareth, she's talking to her stepmother.
At the beginning of the film Sarah seems to be, on the surface, a spoiled 15 year old girl who doesn't want to do her chores and just wants to play around, not even wanting to date, something her stepmom wants her to do. Her stepmother wants her to mature and grow, to find love, etc. And Sarah and her obviously do not get along a lot. Two important details appear when Sarah goes back to her room at the beginning after fighting with her stepmother over having to take care of her little brother: her stepmother talks to her dad, telling him 'She treats me like the wicked stepmother of a fairytale', and when Sarah goes to talk to her to her room, he doesn't even bother to open the door or make sure she's okay after the fight. To some people these details seem just normal parent behaviour, but it was very clear to me after the film that Sarah is being emotionally neglected by her father, and possibly made by her stepmother to grow up to fast. Sarah is fifteen and an older sister, and unfortunately is common for older sisters to act as parents for their siblings while also not being taken care of themselves. We see Sarah clinging to her childhood as an escapism from the fact she feels completely neglected, since her dad won't even open the door to talk to her.
When Sarah tells Toby her fairytale, it's a clear depiction of how she feels like: There once was a princess who was basically a slave to her stepmother and she was forced to take her of her baby brother. Sarah takes her rage out on her brother and sends him away with the goblins, and inmediatly regrets it. She's repeating patterns of abuse. She's realizing sending her brother away is the submitting him to the same neglectful behaviour she has struggled with. So she makes a deal with Jareth to get him back.
Jareth poses an interesting character in Sarah's healing journey from her trauma. He's in love with her, in very possessive, clingy way that makes him do anything she asks him too to try to manipulate her to love him, which doesn't work on her, because she's probably used to it. The fact Sarah has a lot of toys and costumes, which makes us feel like she's spoiled, while being simultaneously emotionally neglected, is a very common way a manipulator convinces the victim there's no reason to feel that way. So seeing as she's used to being gifted things, being given 'her dreams', instead of actual emotional support and availability, Sarah is basically inmune to Jareth's advances. This could be read as Sarah's first experience with love outside of her family life, which is also a common thing in the experiences of older sisters: they date men who aren't good for them, repeating the patterns they're used to and being once again emotionally hurt. By the end of the movie, after meeting new friends Sarah loves deeply and grows to appreciate, and by being shown there are people who do care about her and who do love her and respect her, Sarah is able to fight Jareth alone, because she might be phisically alone, but she knows her friends have her back always. The found family trope is used here even until the end when we think Sarah has grown and the people she met in the Labyrinth are gone, and Sarah tells Jareth he has no power over her because she finally has healed, and she knows she deserves better.
By the end, Sarah has matured and learned, not just about herself, but about love and relationships of all kinds. She gives Toby her plushie as a way of showing she doesn't need to desperately cling to her childhood anymore, because she now has people in her life who care about her for real, and also she tucks him in as a way to show she's going to break the cycle, and show him finally the emotional support she didn't get from her parents. She keeps many things in her room, but puts others away, and when her friends from the Labyrinth appear to tell her they'll be there if she needs them, they don't simply say this and go away, but she makes them stay. 'I need you', she tells them, because even if she's healed, her life might still be filled with the remnants of her trauma, and an escapism might be needed. But most importantly, 'I need you', because they're her friends, her found family, the people who have shown her what she deserves in her life.
The movie definetly shows us the many highs and lows in life, particularely in adolescence, and how the journey to being mature can be difficult. But these subtle themes of emotional neglect, trauma, and the struggles of a young girl forced to grow up a little too soon trully give the movie another layer of depth that maybe not everyone might see, but some of us, specially those of us who relate to these struggles, do see and aknowledge, reminding us that we're not alone and that we deserve better, for our trauma has no power over us.
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feyascorner · 5 months
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NO BECAUSE I NEED TO TALK ABOUT ASCENDED ASTARION FOR A SECOND
I feel a lot of people think he just lost his soul when he went through with the ascension (myself included) but replaying for the third time (this time w/o rushing lol), it’s more obvious that he’s still him.
Of course, there’s a very obvious difference between spawn astarion and ascendant astarion in his dialogue, especially if you romance him. Ascendant astarion, in the state that he is immediately after ascension, is absolutely not a healthy representation of what a relationship should look like and should not be desired. Obviously some people think he’s hot but for the sake of the argument just go along w me here.
Regardless I don’t think the ascension changed him THAT much as a person. In fact I’d argue that NOT ascending changes him more (for the better). Ascending just made parts of him (the less forgiving traits) that much more prominent.
Looking back on Act 1 during the tiefling celebration (assuming you don’t side w the goblins), he clearly says he doesn’t revel in being a hero. And throughout the game he makes it very clear he’s willing to be selfish because he hasn’t been allowed to be selfish for the past 200 years.
And this selfishness manifests into him wanting power so he won’t face the same environment again. He’s always wanted power, and if he chooses not to ascend, he’s letting go of that part of himself. Not only does he go against what he’s believed for most of his life as a spawn, but accepts that being a spawn is okay with him. If he chooses to ascend, he’s amplifying that power hungry aspect of himself, putting act1/2 astarion’s personality in the basement, but he’s still there.
This applies to how possessive he is of Tav after the ascension too. He’s always been possessive, even if he doesn’t make it alarmingly obvious. Though rather than possessive I’d describe it more as a fear of being abandoned in act 1/2.
For example, when you drop the Githyanki Crèche on him he gets genuinely annoyed for a few seconds and then he thanks you for apologizing in a much softer tone, like he’s trying to repair any damage he might’ve done by getting mad at you. At the time, he still thinks of himself as weak, and therefore cannot bring himself to be possessive since he has no power to back it up. Instead, he manifests these feelings by doing everything in his power to please you even if it goes against his emotions. And while he doesn’t particularly love Tav going off with other people (as seen with the dialogue after you sleep with Mizora), he pretends that he’s okay with it just to keep you by his side. This tendency to please Tav in hopes they’ll stay is also seen in how he asks for your permission before he kills the Gur at the hag’s house.
Now, once he does ascend, he realizes he has the power to support all these darker emotions he feels. It turns twisted as a result, bringing us to the ascendant astarion we have today.
Spawn astarion, however, lets go of these emotions in a way, or displays them in a more healthy manner. It’s why his arc feels much more satisfying this way because ascendant astarion isn’t really changing, just adjusting. Spawn astarion goes through more raw character development which is also why I cannot bring myself to ascend him even in my evil durge play through!!
anyway yeah I made this account to do stuff like this hope you enjoyed my little rant🫶 this is just my personal opinion obviously but pls lmk if anyone thinks differently bg3 lore is so interesting
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to-thelakes · 3 months
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cake-related disaster
pairing; frank castle x fem!reader
summary; you wanted to celebrate frank's birthday properly but the world never really was on your side.
warnings; fluff, reader being a baking disaster, very brief mention of frank's trauma, frank being in love
notes; okay! hello this is day 6 of my fluffbruary fics! i wasn't sure whether i was actually going to get this up but it's here, it's out and she's just cute, this can be read as a part two to rainy day but it can also be read as a one-shot just fine! also, this one-shot nearly went in a more angsty way but since this is fluffbruary, i steered away from the angst (though the angst goblin is making an appearance, it wants me to write something heart-wrenching). it's a little shorter than my previous one but i'm starting to love this pairing with frank. i'm used to reader being a little more passive than the slightly more sarcastic and teasing version i've had in this fic and rainy day, please feel free to let me know if you like this kind of reader because i'm honestly loving the challenge. anyway! i'm done rambling, please enjoy <3
ao3
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It was Frank’s birthday and when he had told you that he hadn’t celebrated for a long time, you knew that you had to do something for him. After everything he had been through with Maria and the kids, you couldn’t blame him but this was a new chapter in your lives and you wanted him to enjoy a day just for him again. Even if it was only for a day and only this year.
But nothing ever really seemed to go how you wanted. It was embarrassing and frustrating but at least your bad luck had brought Frank to you in a capacity that was more than friendship. You’d always love the rain because of what it brought to you. Today, however, your bad luck just pissed you off. A huff escaped your lips as you stared down at the cake. This was your second attempt and somehow it looked worse than the first.
The first had been dry and yet somehow too sticky after cooking for far too long. You had no idea how you managed it since you were usually an amazing baker. But of course, fucking today of all days your skills would fail you. The second cake looked better and you had even levelled it off, just to find that when you took a bite out of it, it tasted salty. There was no other taste, just salt and you had to spit it out into his bin.
“Are you fucking with me?” You said as you dipped your finger into the jar that you had used. When you tasted the white granules, it was fucking salt. Why the fuck had Frank put the salt in a jar? Your hands ran across your face and you took a deep breath. It was okay. One more time and it would be fine.
You dumped the other cake into the bin and returned to the counter. The icing had already been made hours ago at this point and despite it melting slightly, it looked fine. It was the only thing that had gone right all day. With a deep breath, you double and triple-checked everything as you followed the recipe again. It seemed to be going well and that was good.
But then you heard the door of the apartment close. Your head shot up and you turned back to see Frank standing in the entryway. He was taking his boots off. He knew that you were in his apartment, he had let you in that morning and you had spent the morning eating breakfast before he went off to work at the construction site. He knew you’d still be here.
But when you didn’t say anything to him, he looked up, meeting your shocked and dazed expression. His eyebrows knitted together.
“Everythin’ alright?” He asked softly. You stared at him and then your head twisted back to the half-mixed cake batter.
“Why are you home? I thought you weren’t back till later?” You responded, turning around fully and doing your best to hide the cake better. But the flour, sugar and old cake batter splattered across your shirt exposed what you were doing. Well, that and the rest of the baking ingredients on the counters but there was nothing you could do about that.
“Eh, he let me off early. Said I wasn’t needed,” Frank explained as he walked closer. A smile was cracking across his face as he took in your appearance, “What are you hidin’?” He asked, a teasing lilt to his tone. You looked up at him before you let your shoulders drop. There was no point in trying to change anything now.
“I was making you a birthday cake and I know you said you don’t celebrate so don’t start but I wanted to make you something and I fucked it up,” You explained. Frank tilted his head and his amused grin settled into a soft look. He looked at you, not entirely what to say to that confession, “I made two cakes before this one and they were awful. Why the fuck do you put salt in a jar? What is wrong with you?” You asked, his features making you a little more relaxed. The embarrassment that was creeping up your neck in the form of heat didn’t seem so overwhelming now.
“Y’know, I was gonna give you a kiss f’being so sweet but then ya ruined it,” Frank said as he stepped closer. You chuckled and looked up into his eyes. The adoration in them still scared you sometimes. It felt so new, so terrifying. You had been friends for so long and you thought that he’d never want to admit he loved you. Yet, he had and here you were.
“When you taste the finished product, you’ll want to give it to me,” You muttered in response. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in.
“Mhm, might just give it to ya anyway,” He responded. A grin began to spread across your face as you gazed into each other’s eyes.
“Go on then.” Frank leant down and captured your lips into a soft kiss. Your arms moved from resting against his chest to wrapping around his neck, standing up on your tiptoes to get a better angle. He nibbled at your bottom lip and you couldn’t help the giggle that you let out.
“You need a shower,” You muttered as you pulled away from the kiss. Frank’s eyes reopened and he looked down at you, baffled.
“So hard to please,” He said. You shrugged, letting your hands rest back against his chest.
“Why don’t you get a shower and then by the time you’re done, I’ll have a treat waiting,” You requested. Frank contemplated it for a moment, leaning forward and pressing another soft kiss to your lips. Then he nodded and let go of your waist.
“I’ll be waiting,” He said. You watched him saunter off to the bedroom, biting your lip to try and stop the smile from growing into a grin. You still felt like a teenager every single time he was around you. It was embarrassing but you loved it. You loved him and you wanted this birthday to be special. So, you turned back to the cake batter and continued, determined to get it right.
And you did. 
When you presented Frank with the finished product, he grinned like you had never seen before. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as you rambled about how long it took and that you wanted it to be a surprise. You also gave him the few presents that you had picked up for him and he seemed to just melt.
It had been a long time since he’d been loved so fiercely and he didn’t even know what to do with himself. And despite being paralysed by the love he felt towards you, he knew that he was going to make your next birthday the best one you’d ever have. 
<3
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Heavy
Steve Harrington x plus size female reader
Author’s note- hola my ghouls, goblins, fellow gremlins. I’m here with a Steve one shot. I don’t write for him often so I hope o can do him some justice. Likes and reblogs are always appreciated.
Warnings- 18+++++!!!!!!! PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE A MINOR THANK YOU. mentions of fat phobia, self esteem issues. Bullying, angst, fluff, cursing,oral (f &m receiving) smut! P in V unprotected sex!, squirting.
Summary- being a big girl in high school is hard. King Steve and his friends hadn’t made it any easier. Can he make it up to you now that you’ve graduated?10.8k words
You knew who Steve Harrington was. Everybody did. He was impossible to miss. All the guys wanted to be him and all the ladies loved him. Well. Almost all the ladies. All except you. You could admit to yourself Steve was a good looking guy but you couldn’t get past who he was as a person.
Back in High School you were mostly a loner except for a few friends you made in classes and a few people you sat with at lunch. Other than that you tried your best to keep to yourself throughout High School . That however was made difficult because of Tommy and Carol. Mostly Carol. She bullied you endlessly for your weight. Whether it was making a snarky remark in the hallway or laughing at you in gym class, she made your high school years hell. And with that came Tommy and Steve. Who usually stood behind her and didn’t say a word to defend you. On special days Tommy would chirp in and make snarky remarks with her. And sometimes you would catch Steve laughing.
The best day was the day you graduated because you knew you wouldn’t have to deal with any of them on a day to day basis anymore. Hell if you were lucky you wouldn’t even have to see their faces ever again. Or so you thought.
The summer after your graduation you found a job at a record store at star court mall. The stores name was Sam Goody. It was the best job cause you got to do your favorite thing. Stock records and listen to music all day. Everyday on your break you’d go to the food court and visit your old band friend Robin who worked at scoops ahoy. She was now going to be a senior and she managed to keep you up on all the juicy high school gossip now that you were out of high school.
Today had been a day just like any other. You’d stocked your records, listened to music, and flipped through magazines at the counter until it was time to close the shop and go on a lunch break. You walked into scoops ahoy just like usual and then suddenly stopped in your tracks.
There at the counter in that stupid scoops ahoy uniform was the one and only Steve Harrington. And he was busy talking to Robin. You were so frozen you didn’t even notice when Robin had turned her attention to you and tried waving you into the shop. But your eyes were trained on Steve. And as soon as he saw you, you quickly backed away and left the shop. Not bothering to look back. You feel bad about leaving Robin like that but there was no way you were going to subject yourself to “king Steve” now that you were graduated. And now that he worked there you’d have to find another place to go on your lunch break.
Robin was very confused when she turned to look at you and watched as you quickly fled the ice cream shop. She tracked your eye-line and figured you were looking at the boy next to her. Steve Harrington in training. It clicked for her then. She didn’t say anything but she huffed and returned to showing Steve the ropes of the shop.
Steve on the other hand was a bit distracted. He’d seen Robin waving at someone and trying to get them to come into the shop and when he turned to see you standing there, eyes wide like a deer in headlights staring straight at him, he got a pit in his stomach. That pit became much deeper when he watched as you practically sprinted out of the store.
Steve wasn’t an idiot. He didn’t need to be told what happened in that moment. He knew exactly why you decided not to come into the shop. And he felt guilty. But he decided to push it down and continue with his training. He’d worry about it another time. Surely you couldn’t avoid the shop forever. Especially since he sees that you’re friends with Robin.
Oh how wrong Steve was. He’s been working at scoops ahoy all summer now and you’ve yet to come back to the shop. He’s seen you around the mall and he knows you work at Sam goody but ever since his first day working there you haven’t stepped foot in scoops ahoy. Now you usually go get a hot dog on a stick and meet Robin behind the mall to chit chat on breaks or Robin comes to you at Sam goody.
Robin and Steve have grown a lot closer and consider each other friends. Robin has seen that the Steve she works with is no longer the king Steve that ruled Hawkins high. But Steve still wishes he could get that through to you. If you’d even give him a chance.
It’s a Tuesday and the mall is pretty slow. Even though it’s summer break a Tuesday afternoon still isn’t prime ice cream time. Steve watches as Robin walks back in from her break and next to her is you. Steve’s breath hitches. For a second he has hope you’ll actually walk in the store.
You glance past Robin and look at Steve and quickly turn your eyes in the opposite direction and keep walking, saying a quick goodbye to Robin. Steve’s whole body deflates. He leans back against the counter and runs his hands up and down his face.
Robin comes up to the counter and leans on the counter with him shoulder to shoulder. “What’s up Harrington?”
Steve thinks for a moment deciding whether or not he should talk to Robin about this. Since you and her were friends, maybe she could help him out.
He sighs heavily before speaking. “You and y/n are friends right?”
“Yup. Have been since I was a freshman and she was a sophomore.”
“Has she….well I don’t know…has she ever…talked about me?”
For once in her life Robin didn’t want to speak. She knew Steve wouldn’t want to hear what she had to say.
“Come on Robin I know she must have said something. She avoids this place like the plague ever since I started working here.”
Robin sighs and stands from the counter.
“Look Steve I know you’re not “king Steve” anymore….but she doesn’t… all she knows is the Steve who was friends with Tommy and carol who bullied her for being fat. Can you blame her for not wanting to see you? Why does it bug you so much anyway?”
Steve wanted to tell Robin why it bugged him so much. Why it’s always going to bug him that you hate him. But he couldn’t tell Robin that. And he could never tell you that. It wouldn’t be fair. How could Steve ever explain that all this time he’s thought you were beautiful and an amazing girl all the while he let his friends bully you to no end? How could he explain to Robin that watching you walk past the store and refuse to come in because of him killed him?
All Steve did in return to robins question was sigh and stand from the counter and go to the back to restock the ice cream.
Summer was moving swiftly and Steve had given up on his hopes of being able to talk to you. He had become content in knowing you would hate him forever and he would have to live with that cause it’s his bed and he must lie in it.
You had fallen into a routine of avoiding scoops ahoy at all costs whenever Steve was around. You managed to still get ice cream from time to time because Robin was very helpful and told you whenever Steve wouldn’t be working.
Today was a scorcher and Robin had told you yesterday that Steve wouldn’t be working today. So you did your usual closing the shop routine and walked over to scoops ahoy. You didn’t see Robin at the counter when you walked in so you stood there for a minute looking at all the flavors and decided which one to get.
After a few moments of standing there and looking at flavors you hear the door to the back swing open and you begin to say something to Robin about ignoring customers but you quickly shut your mouth and swallow hard when you see who walks through the door.
It’s not Robin. It’s Steve. He stops when he sees you too. Instead of your fight or flight kicking in, you’re just frozen. Stood there staring at each other for what is definitely too long. Eventually however you gain your bearings and cough slightly to snap Steve out of his trance as well. He stands up straighter and walks behind the counter.
You flick your eyes back down to the ice cream to avoid looking at him.
You’re the first to speak.
“I thought Robin was working today.” You say so quietly Steve almost doesn’t hear you.
“She uh called out sick this morning…. I’m happy to help you though. What can I get for ya?”
“The birthday cake flavor” your voice is somehow smaller than it was a second ago and it’s clear being in his presence is only making you more and more nervous.
Steve grabs a bowl and instead of giving you one scoop he gives you two. He hands it to you over the counter and for a brief second your fingers touch. Steve feels like he’s been electrified and it makes your entire body flinch back. Snatching the ices cream from him. He can see your cheeks turn a rosy pink. If you’d been looking at him you would have seen his do the same.
You walk towards the register and pull out some money and try to hand it to Steve.
“It’s on the house.”
You look up at him for a brief second, confusion flashed across your features.
“W-What?”
“I said it’s on the house.”
You suddenly become defensive. You don’t know what game he’s playing. Why he’s being nice to you. You’re still looking at the ground but you raise your voice a bit and it’s clear you’re not happy.
“I don’t know what you’re playing at here Harrington but whatever prank you’re pulling isn’t gonna work.”
Steve deflates.
“I-Im not playing any game here. I’m just-I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?”
He sighs heavily. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I’ve been hoping you were gonna walk into this shop for months so I could apologize for how I treated you in high school. But when I realized you were avoiding the store just because of me I figured I’d let it go and not bug you or make it worse. So when you walked In here today I was hoping we could form an olive branch ya know? And you definitely don’t have to forgive me. And you don’t have to say anything now. But just-just think about it okay? I really am sorry and if you want this can be the first of many ice creams trying to prove that.”
You finally look up from the floor and look at his face. His words sound genuine. And his facial expression reads guilt.
“I’m not saying I forgive you just cause you gave me free ice cream…..but thank you. For apologizing. I will accept the ice cream and the apology.”
Steve smiles and you smile back. You walk out of the store ice cream In hand and for once Steve feels like he has hope.
The next day you’re about to go on your lunch break to see Robin. Usually you guys meet out back and she usually gets there a bit later than you. Today however you decide to test the waters.
You walk into scoops ahoy to the surprise of both Steve and Robin. You walk right up to the counter and say hello to them both. Robin walks out from behind the counter and the two of you walk to the back of the building for your break.
“So you over your Steve fear?”
“I wouldn’t say I’m over it…but I’m working on it. He apologized to me yesterday when you were sick and his apology seemed genuine.”
“I’ve been trying to tell you he isn’t king Steve anymore.”
“Yeah but it’s much harder to believe that when I don’t work with him everyday Robin. Besides it’s not like him and I are friends or anything. It was just an apology.”
“If you say so.”
Weeks go by and you get better at walking into scoops ahoy and saying hello to Steve. A few times you guys even strike up a small conversation. What you don’t notice in these small conversations however is just how much Steve is trying to flirt with you. Which you don’t seem to notice at all. However Robin does.
Today after you leave scoops ahoy, two scoops of birthday cake ice cream in hand, free from Steve. Robin walks up to the counter and leans on it. Staring at Steve intensely. He begins to get annoyed by it.
“What Robin?”
“Ohhhhh nothing…..just that you’re totally head over heels for her”
Steve drops his ice cream scoop on the ground and clammers to pick it up.
“Pfft what? I have no idea what you’re talking about Robin.”
“Oh come on Steve how stupid to you think I am. Now it’s so obvious why her not coming In here bothered you so much and now that she does you’re trying to flirt with her. So come on, how long have hot liked her?”
Steve sighs and leans against the counter.
“Believe it or not I’ve liked her since freshman year. We had English class together and she was always so sweet. She was so smart too. Way smarter than me. And she was stunning. I stared at her constantly”
“Then why did you, Tommy, and carol bully her so much?”
“God I’m gonna sound like such an ass…I never told Tommy and Carol I liked her. I never told anybody. I was ashamed you know? I was king Steve. I was supposed to date the hot cheerleaders or the skinny preppy girls and well. She wasn’t. And I realize now how stupid that is and I regret it every single day.”
“Maybe you should tell her that.”
Steve shoots up like a rocket.
“NO! SHE CAN NEVER KNOW ROBIN AND YOU CANT TELL HER! Promise me you won’t tell her.”
“Why not? I thought you said you weren’t ashamed anymore and you regret it everyday?”
“I’m not ashamed Robin. But she hated me a few weeks ago. I just got her to start talking to me. If I were to tell her this she might go back to hating me and never talking to me again. I just got her. I don’t wanna lose her. If I can even be her friend I’ll be happy.”
Robin decided to drop the subject and promises Steve that she won’t say anything to you. And she doesn’t. Instead she observes. She observes over the coming weeks how much more comfortable you and Steve become. Like two pees in a pod. She watches as the conversations grow longer and eventually Steve joins you and Robin on your breaks.
Today the three of you are on break and you’re laughing at one of Steve’s jokes as Robin rolls her eyes. Robin takes notice of the way you put your hand on his arm as you laugh at his joke, and how hard you laugh at it considering Robin didn’t find it nearly as funny as you did apparently.
Steve announces his leave cause someone has to go back inside to watch scoops and he’s probably already been out there too long. Leaving you and Robin alone.
“Soooooo. You and Steve?”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“I heard you but I don’t know what you mean. What about me and Steve?”
“Well do you like him?”
You choke on air for a second. Over the time you’ve been getting to know Steve you had to admit the boy was attractive….and funny…and a little dreamy. But you told yourself there was no use in day dreaming about a boy like him. That was nothing that would ever come of it so it didn’t matter what you felt.
“Robin I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh come on. Nobody laughs that hard at Steve’s joke. And I didn’t miss the way you grabbed his arm.”
“I’m sorry I actually found it funny. And I grab your arm all the time Robin. It’s just something I do. Don’t read into it.”
“I’m just saying. Would it be such a bad thing if you did like him?”
You sigh. “Even if I did, Which I’m not saying I do, it wouldn’t matter. He’s Steve. And I’m me. He wouldn’t ever like me that way so there’s no use in thinking about it.”
Robin became defensive of you for a second. You were her friend. How dare you talk down about yourself like that so casually?
“What do you mean “you’re you?” I know you and you’re amazing! He’d be lucky to have you. You know that right?”
You begin to stand up and walk inside.
“Robin can we just drop this. Please. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
You and Robin walk back to scoops ahoy and you say goodbye to Robin and Steve.
When Steve gets off work that day he decides to do something without telling Robin. He watches Robin leave the store and head to her bike outside the mall. Steve would normally give her a ride home but he made an excuse saying he had to run errands at the mall for his mom so he would be there late.
That was a lie. His mom didn’t need anything from him or the mall. Instead after work Steve heads over to Sam goody. He walks in the store and you don’t seem to notice as you’re stocking some records.
He walks over to the records you’re stocking and takes one out of the crate you’re using to carry them around. When he reaches in the crate you look up at him in surprise and then smile.
“Oh hi Steve. What are you doing here?”
Now it was time to put his plan into action.
“Well I was wondering if you wanted to hangout tonight?”
“Oh! Sure! Where’s Robin?”
Steve slumps a little.
“Uh Robin wouldn’t be there. It would just be me and you…”
He notices the way you tense and the way your face contorts into confusion.
“So you want to hangout…alone….with me?”
“Well yeah. That’s kinda why I asked.”
“It’s just-I-well-“ you sigh and set the records down.
“Steve are you sure?”
Steve’s beginning to lose his confidence here. He was expecting either a yes or no. Definitely not this.
“Yes I’m sure. I was thinking maybe we could hangout at the diner in town and then go back to my place for a movie?”
Your face has an expression that Steve can’t quite read. And you can tell you’re making Steve nervous.
“Okay Steve. I get off in about 30 minutes if you wanna wait in here and listen to music while I stock the last of the records and cassettes.”
Steve’s face lights up like a Christmas tree. He walks over to the stool at the counter and watches as you work. He finds himself hypnotized by you. The way your soft hands flick through the records, the way your nice big hips sway as you walk, the way he can see your tummy is driving him wild. Then when he thinks it can’t get any better. You bend over to pick up a dropped cassette. He almost groans out loud. He quickly covers it with a cough and you look over at him and give him a smile which he returns.
The 30 minutes seems to last forever as he quickly realizes he’s growing a boner just watching you work. While you’re not looking he quickly sticks his hand down his pants and tucks his dick into the waistband of his pants. You finally finish stocking and look at the time and begin to close up shop.
Steve leads you out to his car and opens the door for you. You get in the passenger seat and Steve tells you that you can pick the music. You put on some Bon Jovi and it takes a few minutes but you begin to quietly sing along to yourself as you look out the window. Steve can barely hear you but he thinks your voice sounds beautiful. He smiles to himself as he listens to you.
Eventually the two of you pull into the diner and walk in and are seated as a nice booth near the window. You guys order some drinks and begin to look at the menu.
As you’re looking at the menu Steve wads up the little paper that comes on his straw and he throws it at your face to get your attention and you look up and give him an angry stare that he can tell isn’t angry. He stares back until you break and laugh.
He decides to test the waters and say something he wouldn’t normally say.
“You remember Ms Jones English class? Freshman year?”
Although you and Steve have been growing closer you’ve yet to talk about high school. Both avoiding it as a sore subject.
“Uh yeah?”
“I remember you always used to read this book. The same one all the time. Even if we were required to read a different book you’d always have that book with you. What was it called? We ended up having to read it senior year and I remember when we had to read it you were ecstatic cause you already knew everything about it. Pride and Prejudice right?”
You didn’t answer for a beat. You didn’t know Steve noticed you outside the times his friends spent bullying you. And the fact that he remembered what book it was caught you off guard.
“Uh yeah. Pride and Prejudice is still my favorite. I reread it all the time.”
“Why’s it your favorite?”
“Because it was the first book I read where felt like I could see the book laid out in my mind. Where I could imagine myself as the protagonist ya know?”
“Now I don’t remember a ton about the book but I remember her name was Elizabeth Bennet right? You see yourself as her. Why?”
Your face turns a little redder and he takes notice.
“Well- Lizzie was always seen as somewhat inferior. In terms of finances and looks compared to her sisters and I guess I could relate to that.”
“You’re not inferior.”
You sigh. “I didn’t say that for a pep talk Steve. I’m just saying I relate to her. Whether you think I’m inferior or not.”
“I know. And I know you don’t need a pep talk. But you’re not inferior okay?”
Just then the waiter comes up to take your orders. Steve orders a club sandwich with onion rings and you order a burger and fries.
The two of you laugh and talk as you wait for your food and eventually it arrives. Just as you’re about to dig in you hear an all too familiar laugh. You shut your eyes tight and try to pretend like you’ve disappeared. But when you open your eyes you’re still there. And so is Tommy H and fucking Carol.
You can hear carols witch cackle as the two of them approach the booth.
“Well well well look what we have here. King Steve out with the town cow.” Tommy says as he wraps his arm around carols shoulder.
Steve quickly stands up and gets in Tommy’s face.
“What did I tell you about shutting your damn mouth man?”
“Oh really Steve? You gonna fight me? Over that?” He points at you and you can feel the tears welling in your eyes. You didn’t want to be here.
Steve shoves Tommy back hard. Tommy bumps into a table and brushes off his jacket.
“I said shut.your. Damn. Mouth.”
Carol steps in front of Tommy.
“He’s not worth it Tommy. Don’t waste your time. Let Steve have the Heifer.”
Steve steps closer to the two of them.
“You leave her alone you hear me? I didn’t stop you guys shit back then and I should’ve but I’m not gonna let it happen now.”
Tommy huffs out a laugh and wraps his arm back around Carol and the two of them saunter out of the restaurant unbothered by the encounter. Steve turns his attention back to you at the table and what he finds breaks his heart.
There you are sitting with your head down. Breathing heavily, clearly trying to hold in your sobs. Steve can barely see your face but from what he can see, he can see tears streaming down them as you cry silently. He quickly squeezes in next to you on your side of the booth and he tries to wrap and arm around you but you quickly slide away and hit the wall getting as far away from him as you could.
“Y/n? I’m so sorry about them I had no idea they were even in town. I thought they left Hawkins I had no idea they’d be here.”
Your voice is just above a squeak as you answer.
“It’s okay. Thank you for defending me. I think I should go.”
“What! Why? We haven’t even eaten yet? Come on don’t let them ruin this.”
You huff a pained laugh. “Yeah like I need to eat this. As if I haven’t eaten enough already. Tommy and carol are right Steve. You shouldn’t waste your time hanging out with me. I get you feel bad about high school and everything but really you don’t need to hangout with me out of pity.”
Steve felt so much pain in his chest he wanted to topple over. He felt at fault. He’d never defended you before and now you had this horrible opinion of yourself. You viewed yourself as inferior: as a waste of time to hangout with. And he felt like it was all his fault.
He scooted closer to you and slowly reached up to grab your face in his hands and you let him. He turned your face to where you were looking at him with teary eyes. He began to speak in the most serious voice he could muster.
“You are NOT a waste to hangout with. I’m NOT hanging out with you out of pity. I’m here with you because I want to be. Please stay and eat with me? Please?”
You blink back some tears and nod your head yes.
It takes a few minutes but eventually Steve gets you laughing again. Mostly cause he starts playing with his food just to try and make you laugh. He notices you don’t finishes your meal and he wants to say something but he doesn’t want to push his luck.
He pays for both meals despite your protest and the two of you leave the restaurant and head back to Steve’s house.
The drive to Steves house is full of laughter and horrible singing impressions on Steve’s part. When you get there you’re shocked. You always heard about king Steve’s house in high school and how huge it was but you never expected this. You walk in and you’re very hesitant to touch anything. Steve can sense your nerves and he grabs your hand and leads you further into the house. He stops in the living room in front of the couch.
“Okay I’m gonna go change out of this stupid ass scoops uniform and I’ll be right back down if you wanna pick out a movie?”
As Steve turns to leave you quickly grab his hand and he spins back around.
“You okay?”
“I-I just…. Well. Steve what if your parents come home? And they see….well…me? Im not exactly the type of girl you usually bring home.”
Steve gives a lopsided smile and squeezes your hand.
“1. My parents are never ever home so the chances of them coming home and seeing you are like a billion to one. And even if they did screw them. I can be with whoever I want.”
Steve turns to leave again and this time you let him. You pick out a movie and sit on the couch and make yourself comfortable amongst the pillows.
Eventually Steve returns in his pajamas and with a bowl of popcorn in hand. He sits down directly next to you despite having a lot of open couch space left. He presses play on the movie and leans back in the pillows along with you and kicks his legs up on the coffee table.
About an hour into the movie Steve yawns stretches, moving his arm to rest on your shoulder. Without really thinking about it you lean into it and make yourself comfortable at his side. Steve smiles to himself and his small victory.
Eventually the movie ends and Steve puts on a movie as his choice and returns to your side. Wrapping his arm around you. As the night goes on the both of you just keep picking movies turn by turn. Eventually Steve notices your breathing has gone heavy and your body has fully slumped against his own. You’re asleep.
He smiles to himself and lays down gently on the couch placing you gently with him. He lets the movie play out and doesn’t put a new one in. Instead he just drifts off with you In his arms. It’s the best sleep he’s had in awhile.
Movie nights begin to become a regular thing between you and Steve. Neither one of you mentioning the mornings spent waking up together. Eventually you start leaving pajamas and clothing at his house and he begins to do the same at yours.
As the summer closes you’re at home one night when you hear about the awful fire at star court mall that killed a bunch of people. You weren’t working that day but you knew Steve and Robin were.
You drive as quickly as you can to the star court mall parking lot and desperately search for your friends hoping they’re alive. You’re standing in the parking lot frantically scanning faces when you hear a familiar voice call your name. You whip around to find Robin leaning against a car next to max who comes into the record store with her friends all the time. You run up to Robin and quickly give her a hug.
“Oh Robs! Are you okay? What the hell happened?”
Robin explains how there was some kind of fire explosion and a lot of people were hurt. The details she gives are kind of vague but you couldn’t care less because you’re just lucky your friend is alive.
“Robin. Where’s Steve?”
She points to a nearby ambulance and you quickly rush over to the back of it. What you see when you open the door shocks you. There Steve sits getting treated by a paramedic. It looks like he’s been beat to shit. You swallow hard. Your heart aches for him and what he must have been through to suffer those injuries. But you’re just thankful he’s alive. You suspect there’s more to this mall fire than everyone’s letting on.
Steve quickly looks over at you. Turning his head much to the paramedics annoyance. He says your name in a bit of raspy voice and reaches his hand out to you.
You grab his hand quickly and give it a tight squeeze. You climb up in the back of the ambulance and sit next to Steve as he’s being treated. Every once in awhile you squeeze each others hands. Eventually the paramedic finishes up and leaves the ambulance to tend to someone else. Leaving you and Steve alone. You take a deep breath and gently cup Steve’s face in a way that ensures it won’t hurt him and make him turn to face you.
“Steve. I know this wasn’t just a mall fire. You don’t have to tell me what happened. You probably can’t. And I understand that. Just know I’m so happy you’re alive. And I’m here in any way that you need me.”
He gives you a weak smile and pulls you in for a hug that makes him wince in pain. But he doesn’t care. He holds you tight regardless. He whispers in your ear.
“Take me home?”
You nod your head yes and grab his hand as you leave the ambulance. You say goodbye to everyone and offer rides to Robin and some of the kids but they all say they’ll be okay. You drive Steve back to his house and help him inside.
You walk to where you have your pajamas stored and go to change. When you come out of the bathroom you hear Steve struggling in pain. You rush over to find him in his room changing. You quickly try to turn around and head out of the room but you bump loudly into the door. Catching Steve’s attention.
He turns around to see you standing there.
“Sorry! I heard you and it sounded like you were in pain so I came to check on you and you were changing so I tried to leave but then I hit the door. I promise I’m not a creep!”
“Sweetheart. Could you actually help me out here?”
“W-what?”
Steve sighs. “ I’m in a lot of pain here and I don’t think I can change into my pajamas. If you can just help me get my shirt and pants off so I can sleep in my boxers you’d be a life saver.”
The thought of undressing Steve and seeing him in his boxers makes your cheeks go rosy and makes you tingle all over. You had to remind yourself you were just helping out a friend.
You make your way across the room to Steve and tell him to lift his arms above his head as best he can. He obliges. As gently as you can you grab his shirt and roll it up his body as slowly as possible to avoid tugging on anything or causing him pain.
Eventually you get his shirt off and you toss it to the ground. Here you are standing in Steve Harrington’s bedroom with him shirtless as you’re undressing him. You know about a hundred girls who would kill to be in your position.
The next part is what has you nervous. You reach down and undo his belt and slowly pull it through the loops. It gets a little caught on a loop so you tug just a little and you hear Steve groan.
“Sorry Steve!”
“It’s okay sweetheart. You’re doing great.”
Steve noticed your hands are shaking a lot and he gently grabs your wrists.
“Are you okay?” He asks quietly.
You laugh gently. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
He gives a gentle laugh as well. “I mean your hands are shaking.”
“Yeah. Yeah. I’m okay. I just-well. God this is so stupid. I’ve never been this close to anyone before. And I’ve certainly never undressed someone before.”
Steve hadn’t even considered that when he asked you. He didn’t mean to make you nervous. He was just in so much pain. And you were being so gentle with him.
“I can try and finish undressing myself if you want. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“It’s okay Steve. You’re in pain. I’m a big girl I can do this.”
You move your hands out of his grasp and go to undo his pants. Suddenly it’s Steve who realizes he might have a problem. With you being so gentle and so close to him and him being so out of it he knows he can pop a boner any second and there’s no way he can stop it.
It’s even worse when you begin to move his pants down his legs and you kneel to make it easier on you. He looks down for a brief second and you look up at him and he realizes he’s fucked. His head quickly snaps up to look at the ceiling cause there’s no way he can look at you on your knees in front of him like that, like the way he’s dreamed, and not pop a boner.
He starts taking deep breaths through his nose and you ask him to lift up a leg so he does. He steps out of the first pant leg and then the next. Leaving him only in his boxers. You stand back up and throw his pants across the room and they land with his shirt. He looks back down from the ceiling and finds you staring at his shirtless form and it makes him smile a little to know you’re checking him out.
You however quickly realize what you’re doing and you clear your throat and say goodnight as you move to leave Steve’s room. Having planned on sleeping in one of the guest rooms. As you move to leave Steve gently grabs your arm and pulls you close to him.
“Stay with me?”
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to be in pain cause I’m laying with you?”
“Honey I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep without you.”
The way he says it has your heart melting. In this moment you realize no matter what you told yourself and no matter how hard you tried to deny it. You were head over heels for Steve Harrington. You were so relieved to find out he was alive tonight. But now him saying he needed you? Oh you were so fucked.
You silently nodded your head and Steve led you to the bed where you both laid down and made yourselves comfortable holding each other. Despite all the horrible things he’d been through. Steve didn’t have a single nightmare with you.
The months go by and Steve and Robin find new jobs at family video. You follow them and get a job next door at the arcade. Everyday you all still take your breaks together and everyday Robin notices your and Steve getting closer and closer.
One day Steve has to stay in on break and help Keith check in some late videos so it leaves you and Robin alone. She decided to breach the subject again.
“Soooooooo I’m gonna ask something you’re not gonna like.”
You give a chuckle and continue to fiddle with something on the bench.
“Okay robs go for it.”
“When are you gonna tell Steve you like him.”
There’s a loud thunk as you slam your head onto the table.
“You’re right Robin I didn’t like that.”
“Well?”
You sigh.
“I’m never gonna tell him Robin.”
“AHA! So you do like him!”
You hit your head on the table again and Robin moves her hand to become a barrier between your head and the table.
“Can we drop this please?”
“Absolutely not! You have to tell him!”
“I don’t “have” to do anything. Especially when it would be pointless. Steve is my friend and he would never see me that way. End of story. I’m not gonna tell him that just to lose him.”
Robins internally screaming at how stupid the two of you are.
“Why don’t you think Steve could see you that way?”
“Robin come on? The last girl he dated was nancy. The girl before that was Stacy. The girl before that was Rebecca. You know what all the girls Steve’s dated have in common?”
“Um… they all have a vagina? I think?”
You laugh. “Well yeah…but none of them are fat. Steve wouldn’t date a fat girl like me and I don’t blame him. I’m just not attractive and that’s something I have to live with.”
Robins about to respond and tell you off for speaking so lowly of yourself when the back door to the video store swings open and out walks Steve. The two of you go oddly quiet and Steve gives a confused look between the two of you.
“What did I miss?”
“Nothing! I just remembered I have to go empty the change out of the arcade machines so I’m gonna go.”
“But we haven’t even gotten a chance to talk or eat yet?” Steve says a little sad.
“Sorry Stevie.” You quickly walk back in the building leaving Steve and Robin alone.
“What the hell was that about?”
Robin doesn’t answer.
“Robin? Hellooooo?” He waves a hand in front of her face and snaps a couple of times.
“I want to tell you something but I don’t want to be a bad friend but I also just want my friends to be happy.”
“Robin what the hell are you talking about?”
“SHE LIKES YOU!” Robin blurts it out without thinking too much.
Steve stands there frozen.
“W-what?”
“I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Well Robin you can’t unsay it so now you have to elaborate.”
“Okay okay. She likes you. But she doesn’t think you could ever like her back so she has no plans of ever telling you or doing anything about it.”
“What? Why doesn’t she think I can like her back? Isn’t it like stupid obvious that I’m absolutely gone for her?”
“She says she thinks she’s too fat for you. That you’ve only ever dated skinny girls so that’s all you must be interested in and there’s no way you could like her. She said and I quote “I’m just not attractive and that’s something I have to live with.””
Steve sits down on the bench and slides a hand over his face.
“Fuck! Doesn’t she realize how beautiful she is? How do I make her see that Robin? How do I make her see that I want her?”
“Maybe. Dingus. Start by telling her? Maybe she’d believe it if she actually heard it.”
He swallows hard. She’s right. He has to find a way to tell you. He gets up from the bench and walks towards the door to the arcade and walks inside. He finds you not changing out the money in the machines but instead he finds you resting your head on the counter.
“Hey.” He says quietly.
Your head shoots up off the counter.
“Hey.”
“Wanna come over for movie night tonight?”
“Sure. You gonna grab some movie options from work?”
“You know it baby.”
“Okay I’ll see you when we get off then.”
Steve returns to family video and rents all your favorite movies. At the end of your shift the three of you climb into Steve’s car. He drops Robin off at her house and takes the two of you back to his house.
You walk in as if you own the place and quickly change out of your work clothes and make your way back to the sofa. You sit down and swing your legs over Steve’s. He lets the first movie play and orders some pizza.
By the time the second movie plays and the pizza has been eaten Steve thinks it’s time to try and talk to you. He doesn’t know where to start so he starts stroking a hand up and down the legs that cover his own. He moves his hand a little higher to rest on your thigh and he gives it a light squeeze. You turn to look at him and find him already looking. He grabs the remote and pauses the movie much to your confusion.
“Can we talk?”
Steve notices the way your face turns into nervousness.
“Yeah Stevie what’s up?”
He sighs and takes a deep breath and you can tell whatever he’s trying to say is hard for him. You reach a hand up and swipe some of the hair out of his face and run a knuckle down across his forehead in a soothing motion.
“Sweetheart I’m just gonna come out and say it. I’m crazy about you. I always have been. And I know you like me too.”
You retract your hand quickly.
“That’s not funny Steve.” The look on your face is full of confusion and it’s slowly morphing into anger.
“Robin told you didn’t she? And now I’m what? Some joke between you two? Haha the fat girl likes me. Let me play with her emotions is that it Steve?” You start to move off the couch and Steve desperately starts clinging to you.
“NO! No! Absolutely not! That’s not what this is! I would never do that to you! Yes Robin told me you liked me but she only told me cause she knows how crazy I’ve been about you!”
You’re still trying to move off of the couch and now you’re starting to cry. Steve thinks to himself fuck how could this go so wrong.
“B-but you don’t like me Steve. Y-you can’t!”
“What?”
He grabs hold of your arms and tries to get you to look at him but you refuse.
“Honey what do you mean? Why can’t I like you?”
“BECAUSE IM FAT STEVE! BOYS LIKE YOU DONT LIKE GIRLS LIKE ME! IT JUST DOESNT HAPPEN!”
Steve’s taken aback by you shouting at him but it doesn’t sway him one bit. If anything he tries to pull you closer to him.
“Please look at me.”
You can hear the desperation in his voice so you decide to glance up at him. You find him staring deeply into your eyes.
“Sweetheart I’ve been head over heels for you since the day I met you in that stupid English class freshman year. I watched you every day to see what you were reading or writing. I was so fucking stupid for being friends with Tommy and carol and letting them treat you the way they did but my head was too far up my own ass to realize that what I was doing was wrong. I should have been letting you know every fucking day how stunning you are. And you’re right. I don’t like you. Because you’re not the kind of girl boys like. You’re the kind of girl boys fall in love with. And I’m that boy. Can’t you see I’m in love with you?”
By now the tears were just streaming down your face and you couldn’t stop them even if you tried. Nobody, especially not a boy, had ever said you were stunning or beautiful or anything of the sort. Steve slowly let go of your arms and when he saw you weren’t trying to run away he gently lifted his hand up to your face where he cupped your face and began to wipe the tears away.
The way he was being so gentle with you made you want to cry even harder. And you did. You’d never known this kind of affection and you didn’t even even know you were missing it. You melted into Steve’s touch and let him hold you for a few minutes before you began to speak.
“Steve?” You whisper.
“Yeah?”
“I-I love you too…but I don’t know how to be loved. Or how to love really.”
“Sweetheart. That’s okay. I can show you.”
Steve looked into your eyes and started to lean in. You didn’t know what to do. So you shut your eyes and let him come to you. Only a second later you felt his lips make contact with your own. His lips were soft against yours and they melded right together. You were hesitant but you began to kiss him back. As your lips moved together you pressed further against each other. You sighed into against his lips and your mouth opened slightly.
Steve saw his opportunity and slipped his tongue in your mouth. Much to your surprise. Although it wasn’t unwelcome. You let him explore your mouth and then you explored his. Eventually your head starts to get a bit foggy and you’re running out of breath so you gently push back on him a bit and your mouths disconnect with a string of spit in between you. You’re both smiling like lovesick fools and while you catch your breath Steve finds he can’t get enough of you. He moves his lips to your cheek, then your jaw, and down your neck. He starts at your ear where he gives your lobe a little nibble that makes you whine a little. Barely loud enough for Steve to hear but he does. So he keeps going. He starts to kiss your neck and suck on spots that makes you whine. The first time he bites gently on a spot he knows you like though and he hears you moan for the first time. God the boys in heaven. But he stops. Much to your disappointment.
He pulls away and finds you looking disheveled. Face flushed and breathing heavily .
“Is what we’re doing okay baby? I don’t want to take things too far. I know you’ve never..”
You’re still breathing a little heavily as you answer.
“Yeah Steve. It’s okay. I trust you. Just…be gentle with me please.”
“But are you sure you want this? I know I want this but I don’t want you to be caught up in the moment and regret it honey. I want this to be something you want.”
You grab his face in your hands and pull him so close into you’re own that you’re almost kissing him again.
“I’m sure of this Stevie. There’s no one else I’d want it to be.”
Steve kisses you again. With much more ferver. He works his way back down to leaving you more hickies on your neck. He can tell your neck is sensitive. All the whines and moans you’re making are sending the blood rushing straight to his dick.
Still on the couch with your legs draped over his. He begins to move his hands around your body. Squeezing at the thick flesh and feeling it mold beneath his fingers. The more he squeezes the more sounds you let out. Your hands find their way to his hair where you tangle your fingers in his strands.
After a few more kisses Steve stops.
“Is it okay if we take this upstairs. I don’t want your first to be on a couch.”
The two of you walk up stairs and Steve starts kissing you again before you even reach his bedroom door. He opens it and backs you towards the bed but you stop him.
“Whats wrong sweetheart?”
You look a little red in the face as if you’re embarrassed. He taps your chin to look at him.
“Come on honey. Tell me.”
“I wanted to do something. Involving you.”
“What is it?”
“Do you remember that night when star court blew up? And we came back here… and you had me undress you?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“I was wondering if I could do it again?”
Steve practically melts right there.
“Of course you can sweetheart. Have at it.”
You give Steve a quick kiss before telling him to lift up his arms. He obliges. You slowly move your fingers to the hem of his shirt and pull it up and over his head and toss it to the floor. Now that his shirt is off you move your hands gently to Steve’s bare chest and let them roam. You lightly scratch up his torso and watch as his muscles react under your touch. Your hands move slowly to his pajama pants and you can’t help but notice a large bulge underneath the fabric. You take a deep breath and slowly start to pull the fabric down. As you pull the fabric down you kneel to the ground and Steve looks down at you. You look up at him with your big eyes and Steve can’t help the way his dick twitches. You catch the movement and smirk.
Once you work each leg out of the pants and discard the pants across the room you run your hands up Steve’s legs and give his thighs a squeeze. You reach for the waistband of his boxers and curl your fingers inside. Before you pull them down you ask one more time if it’s alright. To which he says yes.
You slide his boxers down. Unveiling his painfully hard cock. You’ve seen enough porn to know that was Steve has is practically a horse cock. Hell if he wanted to he could probably be a guy in a porno. You hadn’t realized you were staring wide eyed at his dick until you hear Steve huff a laugh.
“Honey if you keep staring at it like that I’m only gonna get harder.”
You don’t say anything. You just move your hands and quickly grip his cock. Not too tight but with a nice grip. You don’t really know what you’re doing but you know you don’t want to stop. You begin to slowly move your hand up and down his shaft and when you get to the top you give it a little squeeze. You hear Steve release a broken moan above you and so you decide to focus on his tip a little more.
You decide that instead of using your hands you want to use your mouth. So you lick your lips and lean forward to give his cock a little kitten lick on the end before taking the tip in your mouth.
Steve wasn’t expecting you to do any of this and watching the girl he’s been pining after for years on her knees for him is driving him crazy. He feels himself rushing towards an orgasm at your slightest touch and he just can’t have himself cumming in your mouth in under 30 seconds. So he backs a way a bit and pushes your head away. He leans down and grabs your hands and helps you stand to the floor.
“Since you got to undress me I think it’s only fair I return the favor.”
Steve gives you a brief kiss that takes your breath away as his hands rake up and down your body. Squeezing your breasts, your stomach, your thighs. Anything he can grab he’s squeezing. And you’re letting out all sorts of glorious sounds for him.
Since you are just in your pajamas he doesn’t have to remove much. He starts with your shirt and much to his already known delight. You’re not wearing a bra. He’d imagined your breasts plenty of times but seeing your big breasts bare for him. Now that was driving him wild. Before you can cover yourself up from self consciousness he’s dipping down to kiss and lick all over your breasts.
Your nipples have perked up due to being exposed to the cold air. Steve takes advantage of this and sucks one of your nipples into his mouth while pinching the other between his fingers. You cry out at the new sensation. He continues doing it as he backs you towards the bed and once you hit it he lays you down gently.
He begins to kiss down your body. Stopping to give your plump tummy a few squeezes and kisses. He reaches the top of your pajama pants and looks up at your for confirmation. You nod your head yes and he begins to slide the pants down your legs. Much to his surprise you aren’t wearing any underwear.
You try to close your legs but he quickly stops you and just stares at your dripping pussy. The longer he stares the more self conscious you become. You’re about to say something or move when he finally dips his head down and inhales the scent between your legs. He takes a heavy inhale and sighs on the exhale. His hands move to your thighs where he starts kneading and squeezing them.
He moves his lips to your inner thighs where he starts nipping at the skin and sucking hickies into the flesh. After you’re properly worked up and whining for him, he moves towards your center. Placing a gentle kiss on you clit. Making you jump.
He runs his tongue through your folds. Licking at your hole all the way up to where he starts sucking on your clit. The new sensation is driving you wild. You’re reaching for the sheets, his hair, the headboard. Anything that can ground you but he just keeps on making you feel like you’re floating.
Then you feel something teasing at your entrance. A single finger. He then dips it in slowly just a little bit. And back out. He works his finger in and out of your until he’s knuckle deep. You’re moaning out his name and Steve starts to hump the mattress just to relieve himself a little bit.
He adds a second finger and starts to stretch you out a bit. Your back begins to arch off the bed and your thighs are closing around his head. And with the plush of your thighs surrounding his head Steve thinks to himself. “If I were to die in this moment I would die a very happy man.”
He continues to suck on your clit and pump his fingers in and out of you. Listening to the way your slick coats his hand and the whimpers and moans falling from your mouth.
He can tell you’re getting close by the way you tighten around him and the way you’re chanting out his name as if it were a prayer.
He starts working in and out of you faster. And eventually you feel that tight knot in your stomach snap as you scream his name and scratch at the headboard. He feels you cum all over his face and fingers and he licks up every drop of it.
Slowly your thighs loosen their death grip around his head and he sits up to take a good look at you. All pretty and splayed out beneath him looking absolutely wrecked. He wanted to wreck you even more.
He kissed his way back up your body. Making sure to squeeze you tight everywhere he could. Once he reached your mouth you started to lazily make out as he began to grind himself against you. Making you whine against his mouth.
“Are you ready?”
“Yeah stevie. I’m ready.”
“You tell me if it hurts or if it’s too much okay? You say the word it all stops. I promise.”
“I trust you.”
Steve lines himself up with your hole and slowly pushes the tip in as he intertwines his fingers with yours. You gasp and squeeze his hand. He stills for a moment and lets you adjust.
Once he feels you relax around him he pushes in a little more until he feels you tense up again. He stills and starts to kiss your face until you relax. He repeats this process until he’s all the way in. You’re breathing heavily and your face is flushed.
“Are you okay?” He asks quietly against your ear.
“Mmhmm. Yeah. I’m okay Stevie. Just-fuck- it’s a lot. Feel so full.”
Steve let’s you take as much time as you need until he feels your hips start to rock against this own. He pulls out almost entirely and pushes back in. You gasp and moan and Steve groans. He begins to snap his hips even faster and you start to scratch down his back and pull his body closer into your own.
You’re still worked up from your last orgasm and from the way Steve is driving in and out of you, you feel that coil in your stomach growing even tighter than it did before.
You’ve had orgasms before but none of them felt quite like this. You almost wanted to warn Steve that you didn’t know what was about to happen but you couldn’t form the words to tell him. Instead you just let yourself get lost in the feeling. Your orgasm approaching rapidly.
Steve was panting and moaning in your ear.
“I’m not gonna last baby. You’re so fucking tight- I- I can’t think straight.”
He grabs onto the headboard and starts driving into you even deeper and harder than you thought possible. You’re letting out noises you didn’t even know you could make. And then you feel his cock brush something inside of you you didn’t even know was there. It makes your entire body convulse and you’re screaming out his name.
Steve feels your pussy squeeze around him impossibly tight and he knows you’re cumming. What he doesn’t expect is the squirts of liquid that come with it. It takes him a second to realize he just made you squirt all over him. The second he does realize it however it’s over. His entire body tenses and his thrusts come to a violent halt as he continues to grab the headboard so hard he thinks he might break it as he pumps you full of his warm cum. His head dips into the crook of your neck and he starts to whine cause he just can’t stop cumming. He’s pretty sure he’s never come this much or this hard in his entire life.
When Steve finally comes to you’re holding him. Stroking the back of his head as he lays on top of you. Practically suffocating you. He gently pulls out of you and gives you a quick peck before standing on wobbly legs. He goes to the to the bathroom and comes back with a washcloth in hand that he runs between your legs.
He lays down beside you and you curl into his arms. The both of you fall asleep. The world for both of you feeling a lot less heavy.
The next morning when you wake up in his arms both of you naked. You turn to face him. You stroke his face gently and it rouses him out of his sleep. His eyes flutter open and a soft smile crosses his features.
“Morning beautiful.” He leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead.
“Morning Stevie.”
“How are you feeling honey? Was last night okay?”
“Last night was amazing Steve…but I have a question?”
He strokes your face gently
“What is it honey?”
“What does this mean for us? What are we?”
“Well I was hoping this means we’re together. You and me. And I was hoping I could take you out on a nice date. If you want to of course.”
“I’d love to go on a date with you Steve.”
You start to roll out of bed because it’s time for you and Steve to get to work but Steve grabs hold of you and pulls you back into him on the bed. Making you giggle.
“Steve we have to go to work!”
“Come on let’s just call out today. Spend the whole day together.”
“And leave Robin and Keith alone? Robin will kill us.”
“Can I convince you to be a little late then?”
“Oh? And how would you do that?”
Steve starts leaving kisses along your shoulder and down your chest.
“I’ve got a few ideas…”
You and Steve arrive to work about an hour and a half late. You walk into family video hand in hand. Robin looks up from the counter.
“I was so going to give you shit for being late but I’ll let it slide this one time because you two are happy.”
You give Steve a kiss and leave family video and walk over to the arcade. Leaving Robin and Steve alone.
“So you finally told her?”
“Yes Robin I did.”
“Well….what happened? Give me every detail!”
“Trust me Robin you don’t want every detail.”
“Ew! Gross! That’s my friend you’re talking about!”
“You asked!”
Robin and Steve share a laugh and Robin quickly realizes she’s going to probably have to start covering for both you and Steve a lot now. And after you and Steve’s first official date you immediately prove Robin right by showing up 3 hours late for work the next day. Both of you practically covered head to toe in hickies.
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