#blaize writes
Text
Let's Meet in the Middle
steve harrington x afab!reader
words: 8,603
warnings: ermmm for once no smoot and not edited LMAO im lazy anyways
summary: Secretly yearning for your friend and no one notices is a blessing and curse at the same time.
a/n: oh boyyyyyyy i havent wrote in ages. im a lil rusty lmao
The twinkling milky stars stretched across the deep pool of midnight, casting an illuminating glow over Sugar Maple Park. It was the only park nestled in the small town of Hawkins. Four swings, a merry-go-round, and a jungle gym. In the corner there was a soon-to-be skateboard ramp under construction.
You were laying on top of a wooden table, legs dangling over the edge, arms crossed over your stomach, and eyes closed. The crickets sang their summer song and from a distance you could hear an owl hooting. The sweet smells of maple and pine made you feel at peace.
There was the sound of tires dragging against the loose gravel, pulling into the small parking area, headlights glaring. And although your eyes were closed, the bright light made you squint. The car turned off and the doors opened. The engine running had been replaced with arguing voices.
“I’m telling you, Michaelangelo is far superior than Leonardo. His abilities are out of this world.”
“Dude, not only is Leonardo smart but he is the most disciplined and trained. Thus, making him the best.”
Their footsteps made a crunch sound, getting louder as they approached you. You sat up, a little sad that the peace was over, but that didn’t stop you from greeting the two strangers– who were not really strangers– with a big smile. Steve and Robin continued their argument as Robin hopped on top of the table next to you, throwing her arm over your shoulder. Steve stood in front of you two, hands on his hips.
“Are we seriously arguing over Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, again?” You had rolled your eyes, but couldn’t deny that you were intrigued with what they both had to say. You nudged your foot against Steve’s leg. “I would think that nerd shit wouldn’t interest you.”
Steve huffed. “Mutant Ninja Turtles is not nerdy. It’s badass.”
You and Robin shared a laugh. You knew she didn’t actually care for the show, but she loved to piss off Steve as much as she could. “Did you bring it or did I sit out here for ten minutes for nothing?”
Steve looked over at Robin, giving her a pointed look, letting her know that the conversation was not over. Robin rummaged into the breast pocket on her shirt, pulling out a nicely packed joint. “Eddie promised us it isn’t the cheap shit this time.”
Steve threw a lighter towards you to light it. Robin was the one to take the first hit, then you, and finally Steve. “When will I ever get to meet this Eddie Munson?”
They gave each other another look. The same look you had seen them give each other for five months since you had moved to Hawkins. The look full of secrets, too afraid to put you on it. Because what if it was too much? Or maybe because you wouldn’t understand. Either way you respected their decisions not to share whatever it was.
You had met Robin and Steve your second day in Hawkins. Your father had been hired to help rebuild the town after a massive earthquake. Everything about the town seemed shady. It wasn’t just Steve and Robin who hid the secrets of the town. It was everyone.
You should be upset. Agitated. Furious. But you weren’t. Well, to be honest, at first you were a bit irritated with the hushed whispers, but the more you got to know the duo, you realized it wasn’t to exclude you or to be mean. It was to protect you.
And maybe the secret that bubbled inside you made up for it.
You tried not to stare too long at Steve’s pink lips as he took a drag of the joint. The way he licked his bottom lip after he blew the trail of smoke out, sighing loudly. “Tough day?” You didn’t mean to make it aware that you were watching him. That you were paying attention. But like always, no one seemed to notice that your question was deeper than just a check-in. You quickly averted your gaze to the joint that had found its way back to you.
“He’s had to work doubles all week because this guy Martin has mono.” Robin answered for him.
“He’s lucky.” Steve grumbled. “The time off part, not the mono.”
Robin elbowed you. “He’s lying. He’s so touched starved. He complained for an hour that he wished he had mono because it meant that he was actually–”
“Okay, Robin. I think she gets it.” Steve grabbed the joint from your hand, fingers brushing against yours. Did you just imagine him pausing, looking at you endearingly? Must have because he turned away and walked to the swing sets.
“Aw man, he could have at least left the jay with us.” Robin frowned, leaning back, elbows holding herself up. “Don’t mind him. He’s been in a pissy mood since Esther Clark called him a geek when he asked her out last week.”
“I didn’t know he was crushing on anyone.” You hoped you didn’t sound jealous. “I mean, because he doesn’t really talk to me about that sort of thing.” Nice save, you thought.
But Robin didn’t seem to notice the waver in your voice. “Steve likes anyone with long hair and boobs.” She looked over at you, eyeing you from top to bottom. “Surprised he hasn’t made a pass at you yet.”
You awkwardly laughed, eyes wide, and looked over to make sure Steve was still moping on the swingset. “Yeah, like that would ever happen. Me and him would… ha… it’s hilarious just thinking about it. He’s totally not my type.”
Robin shrugged. “That’s what I love about you. The one girl who isn’t my friend to get to Steve.”
You smiled weakly, looking at your fidgeting hands, something you always did when you weren’t exactly telling the truth. You had only lived in Hawkins for eight months, but it only took three for you to wake up in the middle of the night and realize you felt more for the brown haired boy. No one had caught onto you either, keeping it quiet, going on dates with random boys you didn’t care about.
Robin grabbed your hand and dragged you towards the swing sets, letting go to plop in the one right next to Steve. She leaned over to lay her head on his shoulder. You felt a pang of jealousy on how easy it was for them to be friends. How they could put an arm around the other without it being weird or romantic.
Whenever Steve even looked in your direction your whole world spun.
You kicked the mulch, hugging yourself, softly laughing at a joke that Robin and Steve really only understood. Pretending was so much easier.
***
Eddie Munson was erratic, eccentric, obnoxious, but probably the most real and down to earth guy you had met. He was hilarious, making your friends laugh more than you had ever seen them laugh.
Robin and Steve finally orchestrated a get together that involved Eddie Munson. Steve picked Robin and you up, and drove about ten minutes out of city limits, pulling up to a small cabin in the middle of nowhere. You couldn’t help but feel your heart race. This was Robin and Steve’s evil plan all along. They spent these past months getting you comfortable when really they were trying to kill you.
But then a man burst through. His hair was short and curly. You could see scars run up his face. It was clear he had a story, but that didn’t seem to matter from the huge, cheesy grin on his face. “My my my. Thought you guys weren’t gonna come.”
Steve had his window rolled down, and you could see him roll his eyes when you glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “Can you just get in? Don’t want to get you back past your curfew.”
It confused you. By the look of Eddie, he looked well past the age to still have a curfew.
Eddie blew out a raspberry, picked up a bag on the ground and strode over to the car. He must have not realized you were there until he approached the back door, brows furrowed when he saw you. You quickly scooted to the other side, thinking you were most likely in his usual spot.
Eddie didn’t say anything as he opened the door and got in, throwing his bag on the floorboard. Or at least, never said anything to question your existence. He threw his head back and sighed. “Thank god you guys called me. My uncle was trying to convince me to help him with what to wear to his date tonight.” He rubbed his face.
“No way, Wayne has a hot date tonight?” Robin turned to face him, a big smile on her face. “Is it JoAnn from Dolli’s? I’ve been telling him for months he should ask her out.”
Eddie chuckled. “Yeah, he stayed with her until the diner closed one night, and she calls him almost every day.” Eddie leaned over and patted Steve on his shoulder. “Sorry man. I bet it’s hard hearing that my fifty-something-year-old Uncle is getting more action than you.”
Steve let out a sarcastic laugh. You swore he glanced into the rearview mirror and looked at you. But his gaze left as quick as it came. You couldn’t help but look away, flustered.
It was then Eddie finally acknowledged you. “And you must be the fair maiden that my friends have been spending so much time with.” He had a warm smile across his face.
You told him your name, holding out your hand. He took it. “Name’s Eddie Munson. You can just call me Eds, or even good-looking if you want.”
You let out a laugh that sounded more like a cackle.
Robin reached over and his leg. “Put your dick back in your pants, dude. This is why we don’t introduce you to strangers.”
Eddie seemed to have a permanent cheesy grin on his face. “Can you blame me? I’ve been on house arrest for almost a year. When I see a pretty girl, it’s pretty much an insult not to make a move.” He looked over at you. “Don’t worry, won’t do it again. I just didn’t realize when Steve said you were pretty he actually meant it.”
You felt that flustered heat rise up again. Pretty. Steve thought you were pretty? You couldn’t react. You couldn’t let anyone know that your stomach was burning with butterflies. “House arrest?” You took the changing the subject route.
Eddie sighed, shrugged, and pulled up his pant leg to reveal an ankle monitor. “You guys didn’t tell her she’d be hangin’ with a criminal?”
Steve spoke up. “He’s not even a criminal… well… not the way people thought he was.”
You should probably start thinking about how this was all a plan to kill you. But when you looked over at Eddie, the sincerity that gleamed in his eyes made you give him a small smile.
The rest of the car ride was mostly filled with Robin and Eddie bickering back and forth. You would join in the conversation if needed. And once in a while you swore you would catch Steve’s eyes in the mirror, both of you quickly looking away.
You had always been scared of heights. Something with the anticipation of potentially falling, landing with a thud. It made your knees wobble. You looked down at the creek beneath you, Steve looking up at you as you clutched the rope tightly tied to a branch above you.
“C’mon, we’re not getting any younger.” Robin said behind you.
You gave her a helpless look. “I shouldn’t have come up here. I can just climb back down.” Actually, the thought of you climbing down the steep hill of rocks made your stomach churn.
You heard Steve call your name. “What’s wrong?”
You couldn’t help but scoff. “Are you kidding? I am facing death right now. I can’t believe you and Rob convinced me to get up here.”
You felt Robin slightly pull you back. “Here. I’ll show you how easy it is.” With no hesitation, Robin grabbed the rope, ran forward, and swung into the air. She let go and her arms flapped until she wrapped them around her knees. Her, Steve, and Eddie who was sitting on dry land reading a book, all laughed as she crashed into the water.
Steve ran his hands through his hair, a playful smirk on his face when he looked back up to you. He took a moment as if thinking about something before he began to swim back to land. You watched as he quickly jogged to the edge of the hill. He joined you at the top.
“This is so embarrassing,” you mumbled.
He chuckled. “Don’t be embarrassed. It took me months to get over my fear of swimming places like this.” He motioned for you to grab the rope again.
You did as you were told, giving him another pitiful look. “I’m going to die.”
“You’re not gonna die. I’m gonna jump with you.” He grabbed the rope, his hands beneath yours.
“Are you crazy? The rope is going to snap in two!” Your heart started to beat fast when his bare chest touched your arm as he scooted closer.
He rolled his eyes. “Me and Rob do it all the time. Do you trust me?” His eyelashes fanned over his cheeks. His deep pools were probably the only thing you wanted to jump into.
You bit your lip, giving him a nod of approval. He grinned from ear to ear, backing up to get the momentum to run. “Why were you afraid of the water?”
Steve looked at the ground. “That story isn’t ready to be told.”
You had never really talked to Steve like this before. In fact, you never spoke to him alone. You leaned into him, bumping your shoulder into his. “Well, I’ll be here when that time comes.”
He looked up, a glint in his eyes. “You ready? I’ll tell you when to let go.”
The two of you ran forward. You shouted in fear as you swung over the edge. Steve then shouted for you to let go and you did. Your screams turned into laughter when you felt the wind kiss your cheeks. You felt like you were flying.
Steve met the water first and you joined in not long after. When you resurfaced, Steve’s face was the first thing you saw. It was out of instinct. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. Steve’s hands grabbed you by your waist, lifting you up into the air, making you squeal. “Look at her now. Facing her fears.”
You laughed as he threw you back into the water. You splashed him before swimming back to land. The sudden brave act made your stomach rumble, and you decided to eat one of the sandwiches Robin made.
Once you got your sandwich, you made yourself comfortable on a blanket right next to Eddie. He still had his jeans on but no shirt. You tried not to focus on his tattoos and many scars on his pale skin. You wondered if the story behind them had to do with the earthquake in Hawkins. If it had to do with Steve afraid of water. You leaned forward to see what book he was reading.
You hummed, taking a bite out of your sandwich, watching Steve and Robin arguing about Ninja Turtles again. You did a lot of that, watching.
“So, you ever gonna tell him?” Eddie broke your concentration on a water bug spinning around, making tiny ripples in the creek.
You swallowed, furrowing your brows. “Hm?”
Eddie wasn’t looking at you, his eyes still in his book. “You ever gonna tell Stevie boy you like him?”
You guffawed at the remark. “I- I don’t like Steve.” Panic washed over you. You wondered if maybe you were more obvious than you thought. “He’s like totally not my type.”
Eddie snorted. “Yeah. Okay.”
You opened your mouth, but whatever was going to be said stayed on your tongue because Robin and Steve walked over to the two of you. Robin sat down next to you and laid down with her arms behind her head. “You guys, I’m so ready to get out of here.”
Robin was going to college in a few months. She rarely brought it up knowing Steve was upset at the idea of his best friend leaving. You smiled, happy for your new friend. “I feel like I still have so much to learn about the place.”
Robin puckered her bottom lip. “Aw babe, it’s okay. At least you’ll still have Steve, and Eddie if he ever gets off house arrest.”
You glanced over at the freckled boy, noticing a mole on his stomach which was right next to similar scars that Eddie had. Steve kicked the dirt a little, pouting. “Rob, why do you have to be such a buzzkill?”
Robin had her eyes shut from the glare of the sun, but you could see her roll them beneath her lids. “You act like you don’t have other friends, dingus.” She smirked at a new thought that crossed her mind. “Can’t the girls in town keep you busy while I’m gone?”
Your stomach knotted, and you felt Eddie look over at you, wiggling his brows. “Harrington has gotten older and wiser. He’s looking for a fair maiden to settle down with.”
You knew if you reacted, Eddie would figure out you had a crush on Steve. Well, he already knew, but it would only confirm his suspicions. No one could know.
Robin snorted, “At his rate I’ll graduate before Steve goes steady with anybody.”
“Must you speak about me like I’m not here?” Steve put his hands on his hips. It was kind of cute when he got irritated, a small wrinkle appeared between his brows. “I’ll have you know I’m going out with Carol on Tuesday.”
Robin’s nose scrunched. “Didn’t you already go out with her? Said her breath smelt like tuna?”
Steve shook his head. “No, that was Carol Dill, I’m talking about Carol Fists.”
“Fists? I know what she can fist.” Robin and Eddie burst out laughing as Steve groaned in disgust, saying something about how Robin always ruins things. You pretended to smile at the joke. However, your stomach twisted. You knew Steve dated, but you never took into account the amount of girls he had gone out with.
Robin once told you he had only been in one serious relationship, but it ended badly. You didn’t know her name or what she looked like. A part of you wished you did so you could see what it took to stand out from the pool of girls. Were you that uninteresting?
Robin and Steve asked if you wanted to join them in one last jump, but you opted out, saying you were tired. They both shrugged and made a bet who could get to the top first. You waited until they were far enough before you brought your knees to your chest, biting your bottom lip. “Is it that obvious?” You didn’t look at Eddie but you directed the question to him.
It took him a moment to figure out what you meant. “Mm, only if you are one who observes the smallest of details.”
You let out a sigh. “Please don’t tell him.”
Eddie let out a laugh. “Sweetheart, I don’t kiss and tell. He probably wouldn’t believe me, anyway. He never thinks girls out of his league like him.”
There was an involuntary scoff that came out of you. “Don’t bullshit me. I am not out of his league.” You heard Robin scream, arms flailing as she fell off the cliff. Steve was bent over laughing which made you assume he had pushed her. He then ran and jumped off, making you smile as he cackled.
“If you don’t want people to figure it out, maybe you should stop staring at him with that stupid smile.” You realized if this was the birth of a new friendship, Eddie was going to give you hell. He must be bored being under house arrest and all.
***
Fourth of July at the Harrington’s was a big deal. The front door was adorned in red, white, and blue streamers. It looked like Uncle Sam had thrown up walking up the steps.
Robin kept slapping Eddie, who had recently gotten off of house arrest, because he kept trying to unbutton his polo that Steve had let him borrow. It was the only way Steve’s parents would allow him for the festivities. If he looked presentable.
But even looking presentable did not take his personality, eyeing all the wives and widows that walked past him.
You on the other hand were secretly sulking because Steve was across the living room, his arm wrapped around the new girl he had been seeing. You think her name was Lacy? You didn’t talk to her too long because it was like talking to a brick wall with breasts.
Robin scoffed when she heard Lacy laugh, clutching onto Steve. “Dear Lord, he’s really lowering his standards every day.”
You cracked a smile, hiding it behind your cup of punch, catching Eddie looking at you with a smirk. You prayed he wouldn’t say anything. “I’m pretty sure I heard her ask if Rome existed during the Roman Empire while Mrs. Harrington was showing some painting.”
You and Robin had to look away from one another, knowing you’d cause a scene if you laughed. It was like word vomit, jealousy had taken over you. “I don’t know what he sees in any of these girls. He’s like attracted to these non-spectacular bimbos just because they have big boobs.”
You heard Robin whisper your name, and her elbow into your ribs. You laughed when you looked up at your friend but her eyes were full of panic, glancing at something in front of you.
You turned your gaze to see Steve and Lacy in front of you. Lacy didn’t seem to realize who you were talking about. However, Steve’s jaw ticked. Lacy tried to get closer to him and he reacted by removing his arm from her and walking away.
“Uh hello? You’re going to leave without saying anything?” She called after him. He didn’t reply as he made his way to the staircase that you knew led up to his bedroom. Lacy huffed, “Whatever.” She crossed her arms and stomped elsewhere. You kind of felt bed for speaking badly about a girl who had no clue about your feelings. But it felt worse knowing you had hurt Steve.
You looked at your feet, ashamed of what you had said. “Didn’t Steve say his dad had a gun cabinet?”
Robin smacked your arm. “Not funny.”
“I thought the clueless look on non-spectacular bimbo was funny.” Eddie’s grin went from ear to ear. You and Robin looked at him with narrowed eyes. He put his hands up in defense. “Too soon?”
You groaned, turning around, laying your forehead on the wall behind you. “I’m such an idiot.”
“Jesus Christ. You like him,” Robin proclaimed.
Eddie laughed. “Wait, you didn’t know?”
You felt Robin roll her eyes. “She has literally never said or done anything that made me think… ugh this ruins everything. I thought you were different.”
You snapped your head to face her, brows furrowed. “How does this ruin everything?” You noticed people looking over at you, listening to the commotion.
“Maybe we should lower our voices,” Eddie mumbled.
The scoff that Robin made sounded like Are you kidding me? “Girls never want to be my friend unless they want to get closer to him. Then you came along and didn’t immediately start drooling. I thought I had hope.”
You opened your mouth to defend yourself but you snapped it back shut. Your lips pursed together and you swallowed a large lump down your throat. You didn’t mean to start liking Steve. She was overreacting. “You don’t know anything Robin. And what does it matter? You’re leaving in like three weeks.”
“Not the point,” Robin said through bared teeth.
Eddie awkwardly steered some bystanders away, convincing them everything was okay.
You shook your head, laughing in disbelief. “I get it now. This whole time you’ve been jealous.”
“Excuse me?” Robin was fuming, almost nose to nose.
“Admit it, you’re in love with Steve and can’t stand that he chooses all these boring girls over you.”
You must have touched a sore spot that even Eddie was aware of because before Robin could do anything, he stepped between the two of you. He looked at Robin, giving her an assuring look before back at you. Immediately you felt desolate and little. You didn’t belong, because in only one look you knew Eddie was going to back up his friend. “Maybe you should…” he shrugged, motioning to the door.
You looked between the two of them, Robin faced away from you, but you could see her glassy eyes, brimmed with tears. Your heart sank, wanting to take everything you said in only ten minutes back in your mouth. But you were too stubborn to admit you might have been in the wrong. “Screw you both.” You pivoted, and suddenly the picture of Lacy looked familiar as you stormed out of the Harrington’s house.
It took you three days to find yourself at the front door of Robin’s house. You knew she would be home because she talked about it a few days ago. She would be packing for her move. When she answered the door, her face was expressionless. You held up a basket of banana muffins, her favorite. You smiled awkwardly. “Can I come in?”
You could tell by the grip she had on the door that she wanted to slam in your face. Nonetheless, she sighed and opened it wider for you to walk through. “Sorry about the mess. Packing and all.” Her voice was quiet as she led you to her bedroom. Sure enough, clothes, boxes, and other items were scattered all over her bed and floor. “Just got done packing my voodoo doll of Steve,” she joked.
You winced. One thing about Robin, she wasn’t beating around the bush on any confrontation. “Look, Rob. I didn’t mean what I said. LIke truly. I was the one that was jealous and always have been of your relationship with Steve. You two have all this history and I can’t compete with that.”
Robin ran her fingers through her hair. “Steve and I have been through a lot of shit… like a lot. But it’s not like that.”
You couldn’t help but perk up at the last part.
She continued, “I just don’t understand why you never said anything to me. That you thought you had to keep it a secret.” She plopped down on the ground, her arms hanging off her knees.
You followed the lead by also sitting on the ground, legs crossed. “I just didn’t want to be like every other girl I guess. I knew it wasn’t going to happen so I never said anything.”
Robin thought carefully of her next words. “I can’t deny that you were right.” She started to mess with a loose string on her shirt. “I was sort of jealous.”
Your face softened. “Rob, listen, I can get over him. It’s like a schoolgirl crush.”
The brunette put her face into her hands and groaned loudly. “No… I didn’t mean I was jealous of you.”
“Of Lacy?”
Robin bit her lip, looking away from you. Tears started to form at the corner of her eyes and she wiped one with the back of her hand. She sniffled and shook her head. “No.” She faced you again, “I was jealous of Steve.”
Your brows furrowed. Why was she jealous of him? Your eyes widened. “Oh.” You tried your best not to react extravagantly. It was mostly a reaction of guilt and understanding why Eddie jumped to her defense so quickly. You swallowed something hard. Your cheeks started to heat up. “So the person you like…”
Robin let out a breathy laugh, wiping her nose. “Not like where it consumes me but I can’t deny the idea crosses my mind once in a while.”
You couldn’t help but leap and hug her. “Rob, I value your friendship so much. Thank you for being so vulnerable.”
“I guess we both are good at keeping secrets, huh?” Robin asked once you broke apart.
You smiled. “Eddie too. He figured it out the first day I met him.”
She burst out laughing. “He figured out I’m a lesbian in like two days. For a man who won’t ever shut up he somehow sees things we don’t in a matter of minutes.”
There was a beat.
“Have you spoken to Steve?” You looked away shyly.
Robin smirked, rolling her eyes playfully. “He’s fine. You just hurt his ego a little bit. I think he misses you.”
You blew a raspberry. “Whatever.”
“Why do you think I was jealous? He definitely likes you and that moment I found out you liked him too, I knew it would be a matter of time.” Robin no longer looked sad, in fact she looked ecstatic. She blushed. “I think I only had feelings because you were the first girl who didn’t express feelings for him. That wasn’t fair to you. I’m sorry.”
Your mind had so many things to address. “No, I’m sorry for not being truthful. There were many reasons I never said anything. Number one being I valued our friendship more than anything.”
Robin reached over, placing her hand on your knee. “I don’t want to be the middleman. I’ve done that for him for almost two years. All I will say, he dates these uninteresting bimbos because he thinks those are the only girls who will ever like him. You should talk to him.”
You left Robin’s house two hours later. You both spent time packing, laughing about the summer, and telling her when you started having feelings for Steve. You both also cried because Robin was leaving. You had to convince her out of staying that college was meant for her.
The next day Robin asked you to go bowling. What she didn’t care to mention was that Steve and Eddie would be there. However it didn’t surprise you. You were tempted with running out the door, however; but Robin grabbed your arm quickly as if she knew your plan and walked you to the lane.
Eddie was facing you both, a childlike grin plastered on his face.
“Well well well. Isn’t it the two fighting pussycats?” Eddie stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth.
You could only see the back of Steve’s head. He had chosen to wear a baseball cap to hide his hair. He didn’t turn around, but he peeked over his shoulder, quickly averting his gaze to the ground as he put on his bowling shoes.
Robin walked up to Eddie, smacking him on the back of his head. “That was a gross comment, Munson.”
He rubbed the spot she had just hit. “Geez. Twas just a joke.” He then looked up at her, grinning. “I could’ve said it was kind of hot. But did I?”
Robin thumped his forehead this time.
“You make me want to scream sometimes.” She pinched the bridge of her nose.
“That’s funny, your mom said the same thing to me last night.” Eddie and Steve burst out laughing. Robin looked like she wanted to strangle Eddie. Yet, she didn’t react. She plopped in the seat next to him and put her shoes on.
You followed by sitting next to Steve, avoiding any type of eye contact. You noticed Eddie and Robin giving one another look. The awkwardness between you and Steve was too suffocating not to notice.
Your mind raced if he knew your feelings or did Robin and Eddie not say anything? Robin did say she wasn’t meddling but nosey is Eddie’s middle name.
You opened your mouth to say something, anything, to Steve, but he had already gone up to enter names and take his turn. You looked at your hands, defeated.
And so it was like a tug-of-war. When Steve talked, he only spoke to Robin and Eddie. He wasn’t excluding you on purpose but whenever he spoke he never looked at you. Whenever you tried to enter the conversation or talked he’d act uninterested.
You even tried to flirt, going up to him personally and saying what a good bowler he was and if he could give you any tips. He glanced over at the scoreboard, noticing you were in second place. “M’think you have the hang of it.”
You could hear Eddie wince audibly for you. You shit daggers his way before turning around and rolling the ball down your lane. This bowling alley was not on your side because you somehow made a strike.
“Good job! I guess the trick is to make you pissed off.” Eddie laughed at his own comment. Robin elbowed him in his side, whispering that now was not the time.
“I’m not pissed off,” you defended, feeling your cheats heat up with embarrassment. “I’m fine, perfectly fine!”
Steve still was not looking at you, rather the ground.
You stormed up to him. “Are you just going to ignore me the whole night? You won’t give me a chance to even apologize because you’re acting like a child.”
He didn’t flinch.
You threw your hands up. “I’m so sorry I hurt your feelings the other day. I can own up that I shouldn’t have said it. But dude, it freaking sucks when I see you wasting your time on people who don’t care about you.” You regretted speaking up now, mostly because of other people looking over in your direction. You pursed your lips, trying not to cry. “Thanks for inviting me, Rob, but I think it’s time for me to go.” You stopped her and Eddie before they tried to argue.
You walked out of the building and sat in your car processing everything. Robin was moving away and now you had lost one of the only friends you had in this stupid town.
***
You contemplated knocking on the front door to the Harrington household for nearly fifteen minutes before committing. You let out a sigh of relief when it had been Robin who answered the door. Almost immediately you wrapped your arms around her.
“Hey, no crying. I told you that yesterday.” Her hug didn’t reflect her words as she pulled you in tighter. “Thank you for coming.”
She knew you almost didn’t.
Everyone was in Steve’s backyard, Robin told you, explaining that was the only way his parents allowed Robin’s going away party to happen if all the activities were not in the house. She even made a joke that his mom probably didn’t want them using the bathrooms.
You felt nervous when you heard all the voices walking to the backyard. You didn’t recognize anyone. It didn’t seem to phase anyone when you appeared with Robin. Eddie was lounging on a chair, talking to a dark-haired scrawny boy. He called out your name, greeting you. It brought the attention of others, including Steve.
He was in the pool, laughing with a girl you thought looked familiar but had no idea who she was. She was petite and shiny brown hair. This was the first time in weeks you had seen him, and he had actually acknowledged your presence. He smiled half-heartedly and gave you a small wave.
Robin grabbed your hand, dragging you towards the pair. “Rob, I don’t think–”
“Nance! I want you to finally meet who I’ve been telling you about.” Robin laid her arm on top of your shoulders.
Nance smiled. It was warm and inviting. “Steve said you were pretty.”
You peered at Steve who had begun to submerge himself into the water, his face still poking out. “It’s nice to meet you Nance.”
She chuckled. “Actually, it’s Nancy. Nancy Wheeler.”
You smiled at her. You normally found it hard to talk to new people, but she somehow seemed to make everyone around her comfortable. “How do you know Robin and Steve?”
Everyone gave each other a look, silently saying something that you didn’t understand. It was the same look Eddie would also give them whenever you asked a too personal question that no one knew how to answer. It was like they all were hiding something.
“We were close when the earthquake hit.” Nancy answered, smiling warmly. You felt not everything was being said but it didn’t matter. You knew you could trust there was a reason they didn’t say.
The afternoon consisted of conversations with all of Steve and Robin’s friends. Most of them were in college or had moved off. Your favorite was a curly haired boy named Dustin who seemed to have a special connection with Steve. It was like they were complete opposites but also shared the same mind.
Steve had spoken little to you, but it was a step up from ignoring you. It hurt knowing that you two were no longer friends. Yet, you accepted it. Even when you had gone to grab a drink out of the cooler outside, and Steve’s hand touched yours when he went to grab it at the same time. Or when you had found yourself sitting next to him, his shoulder still damp from pool water, brushing your bare arm. You swore when he laughed he leaned into you.
It wasn’t until you had gone inside to use the restroom, finding yourself in one of the hallways looking at all the pictures on the wall. They consisted of wedding photos of his parents, family portraits, and a lot of pictures of Steve. That’s when you caught the picture of Steve and Nancy on the wall. Your heart plummeted a little as you realized why you recognized her. Granted, it was only from what you assumed to be their prom, but she must be the girl Robin had talked about.
“That seems so long ago.” You jumped at the voice that came from behind you. Your shoulders relaxed when you peered behind your shoulder to see it was Steve. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
“No, it’s okay. I didn’t know you were there, that’s all.” You looked away from him, still embarrassed from everything that had been going on these past few weeks. You had made your apologies, and although you felt like he should apologize too, you just wanted your friend back.
He stepped forward so he’d be shoulder to shoulder with you, but he didn’t say anything. At first. “Isn’t it weird we think we meet everyone we’re gonna meet when we’re young?”
You looked back at the prom picture. “I wouldn’t have wanted you to meet me in high school.”
He laughed. “I wouldn’t want you to meet me either. I was a true asshole.”
“What changed? A girl?” You motioned to the picture on the wall.
Steve took a moment. You could tell he was thinking about what he would say next. “No. I was still a pretty big asshole. It was more of the break-up part that I decided I needed to grow up.” He looked down at you, but you avoided eye contact. “I guess I’m still not doing a great job.”
Your face softened, finally catching his gaze. “You are. We all have moments when we're assholes.”
“Yeah, but I never apologized for giving you the cold shoulder. After hearing what you said I had a lot of… self-evaluation.” Steve licked his lips. “I haven’t gone on a date in weeks.”
You took a second to process. “How is that going?”
He smiled, nodding his head. “It’s been good. I guess I was a serial dater because I was afraid of being alone.” His shoulder brushed yours. “I think I took my friendships for granted.”
The warmth of his hand made your stomach flip. You needed to tell him. “Steve.” Your tongue felt dry.
“Thank you for being patient with me. It’s nice knowing that even though Robin won’t be here I’ll still have a good friend around.” He patted you on the shoulder. You tried not to feel the disappointment in you. Of course he only saw you as a friend.
Did you need to say something? Maybe you could grab him by the shoulders and kiss him. You didn’t, praying it would go away in due time.
***
You understood why Robin was relieved when she had made a girl friend. Between the burps and jokes you started to miss her more and more. What was worse, you realized you were spending a lot more time with Steve. You began to notice he was getting older and stronger. The shirts he wore started to hug him. Mostly because he started going on runs again. He had told you and Eddie anytime he felt lonely, he’d just put on his sneakers and sprint out the door. He must have been running a lot.
School had technically started in Hawkins. You felt lame because you didn’t apply to the community college like you said you would. Work at the museum was boring. However, you found yourself at Steve’s house trying to get in as much swimming before it got cold. Steve didn’t seem to mind.
There was one particular day you, Eddie, and Steve were meant to go to the pond you had gone too with Robin. However, when you got to Steve’s house so he could drive, a downpour of rain began. You sat on his couch while he was on the phone with Eddie, saying that the three of you could go next weekend. Your eyes followed him as he walked over, plopping right next to you. He smelt like a mix between coconuts and bourbon. He put his arms behind his head, his bicep flexing.
Your crush had definitely not gotten any better. “I guess I’ll head back home then.”
Steve furrowed his brows. “What? Are you crazy it’s like a tropical storm out there”
You kicked his leg. “I’m not defenseless, you know? I know how to drive.”
“Defenseless, no. A good driver? Not according to those curbs you hit.” Steve’s eyes were closed, but his mouth broke out into the biggest smile.
When he had made that comment you had poked him. He poked you back. You returned by poking a sensitive spot under his armpit. He was then on top of you, tickling your ribs, making you cry of laughter.
You both cooled down, the heat from his body more noticeable when you noticed how close his face was to yours. He hadn’t shaved in a few days, his rough stubbles poking around his face. You couldn’t help drag your finger across his jaw to feel them. You were unsure how it happened. Who kissed who first was the dilemma going through your mind as your lips melted together.
He supported himself by having one hand by your head, the other hand cupping your face. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Your fingers played with his hair. He hated people touching it, but good friends don’t kiss one another.
Your eyes shot wide. Steve made a grunt as you pushed him off of you, standing up quickly, feeling a little light headed from the blood rushing through you. Steve sat up on the couch, lips red and swollen. His hair disheveled. You saw him run his tongue behind his bottom lip.
You held yourself, feeling so vulnerable. “I think the rain let up. Safe to drive.” Your voice was weak.
His jaw ticked. “Oh.” As if on cue a roar of thunder shook his house, the windows lit up from a lightning bolt. He gave you a look that he didn’t need to say anything for you to understand. He didn’t want you to go, but he knew you weren’t going to stay.
You walked out of the living room and to the front door. Your hand was on the door knob, ready to open it and run out. There was an urge to turn around and so you did. Steve had followed you to the entryway.
“Why do you tell your friends that I’m pretty?” You asked him.
Steve’s chest expanded and fell back to normal. “What do you want me to say?”
You raised your hands into the air. Your voice rose. “It’s not a complicated question, Steve. Why do you tell all these people that I’m pretty?”
Steve’s tone matched yours. “Because you are?” He said it so simply. Like it was easy.
Your arms fell to your sides. “Then why have you never told me?”
Steve was taken aback. The silence between you was full of palpable tension. “Haven’t I?”
You scoffed. “No, Steve. You haven’t.”
He swallowed hard, looking off to the side.
“Listen, we don’t have to talk about this. I know you’re lonely since you haven’t been going on dates and we just got caught up in the moment. It’s fine really.” You were looking at your feet, your shoelaces loose, dragging on the floor. You thought about how last week they did the same thing and Steve had kneeled down and tied them for you.
He said your name but he didn’t move to stop you as you bolted out the door.
The next weekend you debated telling Eddie you were sick when he had called to ask if you were still down to go to the pond with him and Steve. If Eddie knew about the kiss, he didn’t say anything.
Steve must have begged to pick up Eddie first or they were already together when they came and picked you up. You sat in the back of the car, arms crossed, staring purposefully at the rearview mirror. Eddie kept going on and on about how everyone from his old band, Corroded Coffin, had either left town or started a family. Eddie told you about after the earthquake he had lost everything, including his most prized possession— his guitar.
When you arrived at the pond there was an awkward silence as everyone carried blankets and the ice chest to a spot that seemed suitable to sit on. Fortunately, the ground was dry from the few days of rain Hawkins had received over the past week. You could see trees beginning to brown, and wildflowers wilting, telling you that summer was slipping away.
You looked over at Steve arguing with Eddie about forgetting to pack sandwiches. He had gone ahead and taken off his shirt. His muscles poked out and the hair on his chest was dark and unruly. Steve walked away from Eddie, mumbling that Robin never forgot to bring food. He caught you in the act of watching him, his face turning red.
This was ridiculous. You spent weeks being mad that he was avoiding you. “You wanna race to the top?”
Steve looked over at the hill where you could see the tan rope swaying side to side. He smirked. “I’ll give you a head start.”
You didn’t take a beat to think before you pivoted and started to sprint towards the hill. It didn’t take long for Steve to catch up with you. He was going easy, keeping a steady pace slightly in front of you. You might have gone slower because you were distracted by how his butt looked in his swim trunks.
You both climbed the hill, giggling as you almost slipped. His hand on the small of your back to hold you steady. You suddenly cried out, looking at your hand. Steve immediately went into action, eyes wide with concern. “What happened?”
He adjusted himself to look at the problem. You went to show him your hand, but then you stuck your tongue out and quickly climbed faster to reach the top. Steve called out your name, calling you a cheater as you pulled yourself to the top of the hill. You laid on your back, catching your breath, laughing once you saw Steve dragging himself on the top. “That was not fair.” He was on his arms and knees laughing almost as hard as you.
It wasn’t even that funny but it felt nice to just laugh. With Steve. You sat up, your face hurt from smiling so hard. Steve’s eyes softened. They were hazy and he looked stupidly drunk. You nudged him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
He blinked a few times. He sat up, taking his finger and brushing your cheek. “I couldn’t help but think how pretty you are when the sun shines on you.”
Your heart raced. Your words were struggling to form. You looked over at the pond, glistening underneath the sun. “I like you Steve but I can’t just be a fling to you.”
He looked sad. You heard your name said under his breath. “I like you so much. All this time I didn’t know what I wanted and when I met you it just got harder to click with anyone or feel the way I do about you. It was hard to avoid those feelings. I never said anything because Robin was so happy to have a girl as a friend and I couldn’t ruin that for her.”
Your cheeks were hot and you covered your face with your knees. You weren’t sure how to react hearing the boy you’ve had a crush on likes you back. The end of summer breeze kissed your nose.
His tanned skin was starting to fade, but you could still see all his freckles covering his shoulders. You leaned forward, placing your lips softly on his shoulder blade.
“Have you been to Enzo’s yet?” Steve leaned his forehead on yours, a cheesy smile painted on his face.
You messed with a loose string hanging off your swimsuit bottoms. You were almost too afraid to look him in the eyes. “Are you asking me on a date?” You had never been there. Someone told you it used to be the only nice restaurant before the earthquake. Most of the new residents didn’t go, leaving it to be a sacred place for the natives of Hawkins.
“Didn’t I just confess I like you?” Steve chuckled and you could feel the vibrations from how close he was to you.
You ducked your head, feeling flustered. “It’s intimidating to know I’m not the only person you’ve taken out on a date.”
Steve was silent for a moment, hopefully thinking carefully over a valid concern. He placed his hand on yours, trailing his fingers over yours. He then used the same hand to lift your chin up. “I don’t take just anyone to Enzo’s.”
Your heart fluttered. He was smooth. You tried to say something that Eddie was probably concerned the two of you had died or got lost. Steve disregarded it because his lips found yours.
It was soft and slow. It felt just as nice as the first time you kissed. Except now, you knew how he felt. You felt kaleidoscopic. It was overwhelming and sexy.
You hoped it would always feel like this. That anytime you felt the last moments of summer, you always remembered the beginning of a new season you had never felt before.
#steve fic#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington smut#steve harrington#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x you smut#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x reader fluff#stranger things fanfic#stranger things x reader smut#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things#steve harrington imagine#blaize writes#steve harrington fic
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Angst Dialogue Prompts
"Would you pick it over me?"
"I'm begging you to stay." "Clearly not."
"Don't you see I'm unhappy? That I can't go on like this?"
"It's not my weight to carry."
"This isn't survival, this is us." (Credit goes to @violets-and-books for the line).
"I never asked for this."
"I don't want to die."
"If I fall now, would you stand and watch?"
"Nothing in the world could make me hate you more than I do right now."
"Why would you do this?"
"What have you done?"
"You could die and I wouldn't shed a single tear."
"They're dead, and it feels so wrong."
"I don't know what you want me to do to fix this!"
"Would you please leave? For once, go."
#new lore#my prompts#blaize <3#angst prompts#light angst#angst#story prompts#writing prompts#writing prompt#prompts#dialogue prompt#whump prompt#romance prompts#fic prompts#fic prompt#prompt#fanfic prompts#writing practice#writing stuff#writing help#creative writing#writblr#writing
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I’m in the mood to write this weekend, if anyone has prompts or suggestions! Any canon I’ve written before - my asks are open ❤️
(I also want all of you to write something too. Can’t wait to see it!)
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I did a thing a while ago and just found it again in my drafts collecting dust and I think I might revisit it after FH 😂:
“Sit down, Fahey,” Pekka Rollins said, striding into the room with a suit way above his pay grade. Rollins was their English teacher and he was the worst.
“Well,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and sauntering further into the library where Saturday detention was being held. “I can’t quite decide where, boss.”
Rollins frowned. "Sit next to one of your fellow delinquents."
"Delinquents is a little harsh-"
He pulled out the chair next to Wylan, the force so harsh it clattered against Nina and Matthias' desk. Wylan flinched at the noise. Jesper whistled at the action, earning a snort from Nina. Rollins snapped at the chair, pointing to its seat, a silent command to sit. He flopped down, putting his hands up with fake innocence. Rollins continued to watch him, and he sighed, scooting his chair in. "Happy?"
"Almost," he said, smiling in a way that resembled a snarling animal. He stalked back to the front of the class, grabbing something off the book return box. Coming back down the rows he set a single piece of white paper and a pencil in front of all of them. Jesper raised an eyebrow at it, disinterested. Wylan swallowed. Kaz glared at Rollins, looking at the pencil with disdain a moment later. Inej closed her eyes. Matthias picked up the pencil and inspected the paper. Nina tucked the pencil behind her ear and started looking at the paper as though trying to find the best way to defile it.
Rollins stalked back up to the front, his shoes clicking impatiently on the floor. "You're going to write me an essay of no less than five hundred and no more than a thousand words." Jesper groaned outwardly.
It's a Breakfast Club AU ✨✨✨
BREAKFAST CLUB AU BREAKFAST CLUB AU BREAKFAST CLUB AU BREAKFAST CLUB AU BREAKFAST CLUB AU BREAKFAST CLUB AU BREAKFAST CLUB AU
I NEED TO TELL YOU HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS
THE BREAKFAST CLUB IS IN MY TOP 3 FAVOURITE FILMS
AJSFJDJAAKENRGHDJAJRIRND
"as if she were looking for the best way to defile it" Nina, have I mentioned today I'm in love with you?
Rollins, you mean mean man! At least let Wylan draw it out!
Wait, I'm imagining Wylan in my head as Brian but who's gonna write the essays at the end? Wylan sure as hell can't
I'm assuming Wylan's a mix of Brian and Claire, if Jesper's Bender. HOLY SHIT DO WE GET THAT SCENE IN THE SUPPLY CLOSET WHERE CLAIRE GIVES BENDER HER EARING BUT WITH JESPER AND WYLAN
DO WE GET THE KISS AT THE END WHERE BENDER CHASES CLAIRE'S LIPS BUT WITH WYLAN AND JESPER!?!? BECAUSE THAT WAS OFFICIALLY THE CUTEST SHIT
I love, please write it, I'll die, I'll get down on my knees and BEG you to write it after FH
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Am I really about to get out of my writing slump by writing a beach day fic starring my jedisona, her padawan, and the 501st?
#the answer is yes#sci speaks#ive been meaning to write for my jedisona anyway#oc: blaize starpainter#oc: yosavi
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I'm so good at naming that this guy that can control fire's name translates to essentially fire fire
#i am committing language crimes#his surname is blaize#OH GEE I WONDER WHAT HIS DEAL IS#but his first name is more subtle#titus apparently means to burn in latin#if baby name sites are to be trusted#writing is going great definitely#eli doesnt write sometimes
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𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤
•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·••·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·••·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•
Theodore Nott x reader
Catagory: Angst, fluff
Warnings: Mentions of wounds and blood. Booth of them are complete dumbasses. Reader is a tiny bit sensitive, but rightfully so.
Summary: Theodore is lonelier than ever, especially after receiving the dark mark. So he tries to find peace in new things. Like Choirs.
Words: 7.2 k
OBS! I gave reader a last name. Oak, but her first name is still your own but just so everyone knows
A/N: Uh, it's long. I don't know if I love it or hate it, but I'm also really tired so I don't have the energy to think. But also, what writers like what they write? So here you go.
(I'm not religious, but god seriously has his favorites)
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His room couldn't contain the warmth that it used to hold during the summer. The fire from his fireplace couldn't keep up with the autumn's chill breezes and cold rains. The heat easily simmered out through the cracks of the old windows, leaving Theodore with stale fingers and cold toes.
On a normal day, he might've complained. When he was younger, he used to despise the cold, always missing the summer rays during the quiet winter. But now? He wasn't sure that he disliked it anymore. The chill air became the only thing that understood the echoing emptiness in his chest.
"I'm joining the Choir." He said absentmindedly. A quick decision he took during the dark hours layered itself with pity and sadness.
"That's rash. I thought you hated Choirs." Blaise mumbled from his seat on the carpeted floor.
Theodore shifted in his soft duvets." I don't hate them, I just don't understand the point of it."
Blaze's face scrunched in confusion and he looked away from his book to watch the other young man mindlessly play with the corners of his sheets." Then why are you joining one?"
Theodore only sighed. He didn't intend to answer Blaise. He wouldn't understand. Blaise had yet to receive the itching curse on his wrist and therefore hadn't been tied to bad things for the rest of his life. Or perhaps, Theodore had become selfish during the quiet days of his suffering.
"Well, I don't care if join or not, but maybe keep it quiet from Draco... and the others." Theodore hummed absentmindedly. If Malfoy would ever find out about Theodore joining something so 'muggly' as a choir, he would stuff Theo in a box and send him straight to the doorstep of Voldermort.
"I know."
Blaize looked at Theodore for any reaction but turned his attention to the book in his lap when Theo only continued to stare at the ceiling.
"Have you packed? We're leaving in two days." He easily rerouted the conversation.
--
The smell of food made Theodore sick to his stomach. Before he left, he hoped that his appetite would return when the warm food that the elves of Hogwarts made entered his nostrils, but his hopes were all in despair.
Classes had been going on for six days and focusing had already been proven to be a task.
Professor Flitwick stopped him in the corridor the earlier day to speak to him about the request for joining his 'Frog choir', as it was called. Professor Flitwick had thought that it was a mere prank. So Theodore stood in the corridor for 10 minutes explaining to the professor that he didn't pull a prank on him.
And now, he sat by the lunch table, idly waiting for the clock to tick to its designated hour. The choir lesson. He had been asked by Blaise at the beginning of the lunch if he were alright, and he had lied with a clump of nerves stuck in his throat.
He wished to believe his nerves only existed to tease him. But his nerves seemed to be right, for it seemed that wherever he went, eyes followed him. Whether it was Draco, who always appeared to be in the same room as Theodore. Or Professor Snape, that read over his shoulder whenever they had positions class.
Theodore shook his head, a small pain making its way into his head. He stood up, and curious glances was thrown his way.
"Why haven't you eaten? You always eat?" Lorenzo asked with his arms tied behind his head. Only for a second, Theodore stiffen.
"Must've eaten something bad yesterday." He barely mumbled before quietly gliding out of the grand Hall.
--
Her eyes shot up from her note page when the door slammed open. The murmur carried throughout the dark and dusty classroom came to halt, and (Name) eyed Theodore Nott suspiciously when he strode into the room. Professor Flitwick tapped his wand against the podium he stood by, effectively gaining everyone's attention again.
"Oh!" Professor Flitwick exclaimed when he saw the tall boy standing by the entrance. "I seem to have forgotten to inform you. This term, Mr. Nott here will join us."
She didn't feel good about a new person joining the choir. Especially not him. The boys from Slytherin had never been nice, and in her luck, she hadn't been the object of their harassment. Which is probably something that she should thank Harry Potter for. But didn't mean that she was entirely safe from their harassment.
If he decided she were to be his next target, it made sense. Not many people knew about her. The students didn't blink an eye when she walked by, and the teachers barely knew her name.
She never believed herself to be quiet or shy. But the lack of attention she received left her believing that she needed to be more interesting to speak to for them to enjoy her company. They thought she didn't want to go with them, so they excluded her from their plans.
It made her think, maybe being interesting didn't belong in her nature.
"Have you ever been in a choir before Mr. Nott?" The professor asked.
He timidly shook his head, and briefly wondered where his old, confident self went. "No Professor."
Professor Flitwick gave him a nod before taking a glance over his small class.
"Well then, grab your notes from the table, and then Miss Oak will help you."
Theodore looked around after this 'Miss Oak', and he believed the young lady looking at Professor Flitwick with eyes popping out of her skull would be the girl that the Professor inquired about.
The old paper felt scratchy in his hand when he grabbed the note-filled sheets, and his body heavily trudged to stand by Miss Oak. She didn't say anything, nor did she look at him when he placed himself beside her.
She tried to not pay attention to the boy on her side, but it became a problem since he radiated off his body heat by how close he stood. Perhaps, she should have offered him her help with the notes. But after a while, it seemed he figured it out and she relaxed at the thought of not needing to interact with him.
The lesson came to an end and she wasted no time packing her things so she could catch the Professor before he turned to the next class to teach.
The rest of the students filed out quickly, and to her luck, the professor didn't.
"Professor Flitwick?" She asked.
He turned around and smiled. "Yes dear, what can I help you with?" He answered, before once again turning back to collect the remaining papers.
"I was wondering if you maybe could have someone else help Mr. Nott with his notes." She stood tall and spoke calmly when the professor turned his full attention to the girl. But inside her, a turmoil of emotion rolled around, making her dizzy and anxious.
"Why is that?" She swallowed when his calculated gaze met hers and tried her best not to tear eye contact.
"Well, because I'm afraid that helping him might disturb the focus on my studies." A small humorous scoff sounded through the room, and Professor Flitwick continued to track down the classroom with (name) hot on his tail.
"I must say that I believe that you are wrong." He started, and (name)'s eyebrows scurried together." I think that you need to socialize yourself, to meet new people. Mr. Nott is a kind young man, who I think will get along great with you."
A sigh of descent escaped her, and she trudged out of the classroom in defeat, beginning the lonely track toward her next class. Which unfortunately for her would be divination.
--
Theodore is an utterly and completely helpless man. He'd met the girl once, one smell, one touch, and he dared never stop thinking about her. The realization had almost knocked him off his chair, for wherever he went, his brain lost control over his eyes and they began to wander, searching after the girl.
For the next Choir class, he made sure to be late again, only so that he could guarantee a second of attention from her. Flitwick had come to warn him about bad habits, but why care? Theodore didn't know. For her eyes flickered to his, and only for a second, the mark on his arm didn't burn his skin.
He slowly walked towards his self-chosen place by her side and didn't let his eyes leave her once. She radiated with caution and apprehension, but Theodore didn't incline to stop staring. At least not until she showed signs of being even mildly uncomfortable.
Her eyes scanned the notes of the Christmas Carol more than she could count as an attempt to not give in to his staring. Because even though she felt tempted to stare at his angel-like face, a fear still presented itself in the back of her mind.
She winced as the floorboards creaked at her nervous shuffle, and once again, felt herself becoming the attention of Theodore's eyes. He opened his mouth, and she made herself ready for anything that could leave his mouth.
"Oh, buggers. I seemed to have forgotten my papers." (Name) watched carefully when the professor rummages through his bag, hoping that his papers are there so he doesn't leave the classroom, risking that someone with dark hair and brown eyes will start a conversation with her.
But to her downfall, Professor Flitwick quickly announced that he would be back soon, and no one had the time to blink before he walked away.
She swallowed the anxious lump in her throat and took a breath through her nose.
"Nervous?" He asked, fully aware that she had been shuffling around and taking unnecessarily deep breaths ever since he situated himself on her side.
"No." She answered, too fast for her liking, before quickly focusing on her paper again.
Theodore wanted to sigh in disappointment when she wasn't up for a conversation, and at the same time felt a stream of pettiness run through his fingertips.
He clenched his pale fist in frustration and looked away. A gust of air passed his lips in a desperate attempt to not let his hopes sink. To be so obsessed with a person in such a so short time felt strange. So strange he started to suspect that a love potion had been involved. But the way she shut herself away from him, he supposed that it would be strange for her to pour a love potion into his drink.
Professor Flitwick's footsteps were loud before he came in sight, and Theodore cursed his chance when it faded into nothing.
But on the other hand, it could turn out to be for the best. He knew that the capability of making a fool out of himself lingered.
Professor seemed to have noticed the shift of emotions on Theodore's face.
"Are you alright, Mr. Nott, you seem to be a bit pale over there?" He wanted to laugh at the coincidence.
"I'm alright, Professor." He answered politely, gently clearing his throat as he tried to brush off the awkwardness of the professor's notice.
But oh to be held, he took notice of a small, inconvenient, soft laugh. His head snapped towards her when he heard who it came from, and she quickly covered it up with a cough and a small apology.
He scoffed quietly, and she pursed her lips as he looked away.
"Everyone ready?" Professor Flitwick asked, and a chorus of positive answers echoed in the hall. And with four flicks of his wand, the choir let their voices out. At first, Theodore believed that no one in this room had sung in a choir. The different voices jumbled together, but it seemed that after just a countable second, the different voices blended into an angel melody.
He could hear her voice perfectly, and he never wanted to have no one else singing in his ear, quite literally. And he let himself bask in the warmth of her tone until a crack reaches the surface. He cringe at the miss of a note in (Name)'s voice, and she did the same.
Theodore struggled to cover up the small chuckles that escaped his mouth, and he blushed in shame to be laughing at her. She didn't seem to mind or hear him. Her face bore a confused scowl, making a wrinkle appear between her eyebrows. Suddenly he felt himself wanting to reach out, to smooth the area out with his thumb. But it would've been ridiculous if he did, possibly ruining all his chances with her in the world.
The harmonious tune took an end, and a murmur broke out, asking each other for the right notes and laughing at each other's wrongs. Theodore listened in curiosity as she hummed the same part over and over again, still getting the same note wrong even though she tries.
"It's an f-sharp, not f." He instructed, and she paused. Patiently waiting for her answer, Theodore hummed the tune for her, showing the correct way. Before the tune ended, he looked towards her to make sure that she was listening, and met her eyes. Theodore felt his heart drum against his sensitive ribs when she watched him with idle eyes.
When it once again took to an end, Theodore masked his madness with raised eyebrows and a look in his eyes, that asked her if she understood.
The eye contact broke as she looked away.
"I knew that, I'd just forgotten." She explained, and the left corner of his mouth rose.
"Sure you did." Sarcasm dripped from his voice, and he feared he'd taken it too far, for he didn't know her limits, how much she would be able to take nor how sensitive she might be.
But his fear easily melted away when he saw the slightest twitch of her lips.
--
For the first time in a long time, she left the classroom with a content look on her face. The conversation that appeared, is something that she had missed happening. Like an old conversation with the rain.
And she almost wished that her next Choir lesson would be today so that she had someone to talk to again. But it was albeit a bit intimidating. She is afraid that if she spoke too much, or shares too many feelings, he would get bored of talking with her. And she wouldn't have a potential friend anymore.
She sighed at her overcalculating thoughts and decided that she would keep basking in his attention as long as it would last.
Until her Transfiguration class with professor McGonagall the next day. Usually, she was fully aware of where everyone was so she could sit alone and not risk getting a desk friend. As said, except for today. Maybe it was to blame on the bad night's sleep, but she hadn't given a second thought about where she sat down.
And once again, Theodore stormed into the class, ten minutes late. He didn't apologize for being late, instead, he took the closest empty seat he could find and sat down.
(Name) could feel the looks from the rest of the Slytherins when Theodore sat beside her and she straightened her spine and directed her eyes forwards again, not wanting to pay attention to them.
"Fashionably late, as usual, Mr. Nott?" McGonagall questioned, amusement in her tone, but stone-set face.
"Sorry, Professor." He mumbled, and McGonagall nodded, intending to start the lesson again.
Theodore could feel the burning gazes of his friends as he opened up his book. At first, he didn't intend to give the bloodsuckers their craved attention, because he knew what it would an about, and he was also well aware of who he was sitting next to.
But he could hear Blaise whispering his name, and he still didn't want to seem rude, so he turned in his chair, and was met by the eyes of his Slytherin classmates. Draco raised an eyebrow at him, before nodding his head towards (Name).
Theodore knew exactly what he enclined and shrugged. His friends didn't need to know everything, and he didn't need to be around them every minute of the day.
A warm feeling, but strange occupied her chest when Theodore turned back, a half smile on his pink lips and relaxed eyes looking upon her.
And she wanted to beat the butterflies in her stomach with a stick.
During the lesson, there were not many words exchanged between them, and at first, it was a maladroit pressure on (Name)s chest to say something or to make him, anything of the sort. But she realized quite soon that she didn't need to speak, for it was both comforting and nice to have him sitting beside her, carefree of what was around him as he wrote on his parchments.
She hoped and prayed to merlin that it would stay like this and that it wasn't just a fortunate stroke of serendipity.
--
Something changed with him. She could both see and feel it, and never had she doubted her senses when she felt as if something was wrong.
In their choir lesson, he acted differently against his usual sarcastic but nice persona, which would help her if she was wrong, or speak to her about professor Flitwick's ridiculous beard.
But today he acted strange, only chuckling at her when she did wrong, and when helping her, he sounded up stuck.
He was almost being competitive.
And it was onerous, and burdensome to have such an enthralling person seeing you as a competition. Especially when she was aware that he was more sharp-minded, wittier, and more ambitious than she could ever wish to be.
So therefore she tried to ignore it, playing it off as if had a bed day instead so that she could protect her feelings.
But it only continued and got worse too.
She was slouching in a chair, wand in hand as she tried the same spell over and over again, but the pair of dice weren't even close to becoming chocolate pralines with passion fruit filling. Theodore had gotten it multiple times and embarrassment was beginning to crawl over her cheeks in the form of warmth.
She flicks her wand once more, and when she finally thinks that she has succeeded, she is disappointed to only see a small patch of melted chocolate. A deflected sigh left her lips, and her body slouched even more in her seat.
A chuckle rang out from the side of her, and she bit the inside of her cheek in anticipation of what he was going to say.
"It's going well I see." He remarked, and (Name) felt her ears getting hot from his sudden attention.
"No, obviously not." She mumbled.
"What am I doing wrong?" The question wasn't directed to anyone in particular, but Theodore answered it anyway.
"That, you have to figure out yourself Oak." He scoffed, moving out of his wooden seat and gently picking the pralines up to place them in his palm.
"Because, unlike others, I do have pralines instead of..." he looked quizzically, but in amusement at the chocolate mush on her table. "... that."
(Name)'s face scrunched as she listened to his almost berating words that were thrown, and was about to say something but he had already started walking up to McGonagall with his paper and sweets. She took a long, calculating glance at them, and then nodded, permitting him to leave the classroom.
And he did just so, collecting his books and taking a last glance at the frustrated witch before making his way.
It left (Name) in hassle. The way that Theodore's behavior changed so quickly, and so out of context. But perhaps she's the one to blame. The hope in her heart maybe made her think that he was the nicest out of them all, that he wanted to be her friend. Perhaps -one day- to be even more. She realized that it is her younger self talking through, the child that didn't wish for anything but true love.
She decided that it was a naive thought, and hastily closed her book before walking away from the class.
The next time it happened, it was during choir. (Name) did try her best to stay civil and rational, but how could she do that when Theodore was somehow effectively getting on her last nerves? And she was usually a calm, down-to-earth person.
"What do you mean I'm doing it wrong, I sing it exactly like everyone else." She argued exasperated as she glared at monstrous holes in the side of Theodore's head. She found it strange that he could get on her nerves so easily, even if his presence were able to make her knees weak.
"You're not singing it like like everyone else, sweety." The nickname threw her off immediately, and she felt ashamed as she spluttered out excuses and arguments against it, trying to act as repulsive as possible.
"Mr. Nott and Ms. Oak, interested in sharing your conversation with the class." Professor Flitwick interrupted, and both Theodore and (Name) realized that the room was almost completely quiet, and cringed in embarrassment.
"Sorry, Professor. But I just have a question." Theodore started, holding one of his fingers in the air as he threw a side glance towards the girl on his side, who was watching him with a curiously raised eyebrow.
"But could you just tell me how this part goes one more time?" He asked, with patronize dripping from his voice like sweet, sticky honey.
The sour face that Flitwick carried quickly morphed into a lighter one.
"Why of course." His older voice rang out the words perfectly, and (Name) shrank into herself as the realization hit her that she did indeed sing wrong. Shame crept up on her from behind, and it was humbling when it came to her that Theodore, who had only been participating for two weeks, already seemed to be more intelligent and cunning than her.
"I won." (Name) didn't look at him, didn't say anything back as a strange, unknown emotion buried itself in her mind. She couldn't decide if it was jealousy, or if she was being hurt by his actions. It didn't make sense for her as to why he would need to be so right, and to mortify her like that, just to illustrate a point. Or maybe she was just being sensitive.
But right now, she didn't believe that he ever wanted to be her friend. That this was just an act to maybe relieve himself of stress, to have someone that he could compete against, knowing that he would win. It could also have something to do with power, that he felt out of control and needed something that he could manipulate. It would make sense, she supposed. (But did it though. Why would he pick her of all people to mess with? She hadn't done anything to him.)
As every single afternoon after choir, she trudged towards her house, lining up for the common rooms, more specifically, the comfort and consoling of her bed.
When she entered, it was pleasing to find that it was only one person present in the dormitory, and she hopefully could rest peacefully during the entire evening and night, and for once wake up with a good night's sleep and possibly a better mood.
Though she would be missing dinner, sacrifices were made and if it would guarantee sleep, she felt confident in taking that risk.
And with the last thought that maybe, she would just have to ignore Theodore if he continued with his confusing advances. Even if it meant that he wouldn't become her friend. And she fell asleep. A deep, undisturbed, peaceful sleep.
The next morning, she felt as fresh as the morning dew on her favorite flower. Nothing could ruin her mood was the famous words, but she truly felt it today. The day began with Magic of the Dark Arts, which she sure wasn't the brightest when it came to that class. But after that, she would practice quidditch, and then she would be able to find a dark corner in the library and bury her nose in a book, possibly one about the magical creatures of the north. It sounded interesting enough. (And who would she be to say no to new information and facts?)
--
As usual, dark arts sucked all the energy out of her eyes and brain but were lucky enough when the energy returned after the intense quidditch practice. The shower she took softened her stiff and sore limbs, and the grime and dirt watched down the drain slowly as she massaged her body with her flower-scented soap bar. It was almost a luxurious feeling.
Her robes had also been washed, which ended up with her smelling like a spring field and newly washed linen. It was something that oddly enough boosted her confidence.
The corridors were fairly empty as she began her quite a long walk towards the library. It was nice, the only thing echoing in the corridors bring the whining wind that carried new crystalizing snowflakes to the ground.
She turned corner after corner, walking by the great hall and resuming towards the moving stairs. But as she turned a corner, she stopped. Not voluntarily, but her body seemed to have control over her mind.
Lit by the flames of the corridor, was Theodore, sitting on the dusty stone floor and leaning against the wall with one of his legs stretched out before him, and the other bent towards his stomach. He didn't see her, for his head rested against the knee of his bent leg, and one of his arms clutched the side of his stomach. Almost as if he felt pain. She stood awkwardly and silently, waiting for him to notice her.
It went against what she promised yesterday night, that she wouldn't interact with, nor acknowledge his actuality. But her promises seemed to become empty every time they circled the Brunett.
So she gently cleared her throat and that seemed to do it for Theodore's head snapped towards her, his face showing that he became startled. But that wasn't the only thing that his face showed.
(Name)'s brows gently furrowed as she scanned his face. His left eye was bruised, along with his sharp cheekbone, and blood continued to drip from his nose, messily running down his lips and over his jaw.
"My my, what do we have here?" The surprised face that he carried slowly turned into a teasing smirk, but she found it easy to look past his confidence to know that it was all a mask, a trick to not let her see him in a state of weakness.
"By Merlin's beard, who did this to you?" she knelt by him to get a closer look at his face.
Theodore hoped that it didn't show, but his face had begun to heat up as her big, concerned eyes stretched over his face.
His heart beat faster, and his own brown eyes got stuck on her face, more exactly on her lips. He didn't want to stare, he didn't want to make it obvious but he had no power over his brain at all.
"Malfoy and Crabe. Maybe Goyle too. Don't remember." He said, shaking his head as he smiled with tired eyes. It was a wonder that he was still sitting up, especially after the hard kick that Crabe had delivered to his stomach.
"Why would they beat you? I thought you were friends?" She questioned, staring intently at a particular wound by his eye that looked like it surely needed medical attention sooner or later.
"I wouldn't say friends, merely acquaintances." He chuckled lightly before he shifted and turned serious." And they were saying impolite things, about someone-someone that I-" He stopped himself and pursed his lips." someone that I guess I care for." He forced that part out as if he had trouble saying it out loud. It probably contributed to the vulnerability, and it had probably torn on his ego to get beaten.
And that's why (Name) didn't ask any more questions. She wasn't usually someone to care about someone's ego, but she didn't want to make him uncomfortable.
She pursed her lips and stretched her legs which created an obnoxious sound in her knees before she stretched her hand towards him.
"What?" He asked skeptically.
"If you want, I can help with your wounds and the swelling." Theodore still looked doubtful, so she sighed and lightly rolled her eyes at his mistrust. "Don't worry, my mother used to work as a doctor back in a muggle hospital and has taught me much, so you can trust me."
Theodore seemed to relax at that and slowly grabbed her hand with a steady grip. It was an odd feeling, to have his hand in hers. It felt different than she thought it would. Instead of the cold, rough skin that she expected, it became a surprise when a warm hand with soft skin latched onto hers instead.
With a strong arm, she pulled Theodore up to his feet and she could hear a small groan leave him as he used his power and might to get up.
His face twisted in pain for a second and (Name) stretched her arm forwards when he almost fell against the wall again. Bit Theodore seemed to collect his strength with a big breath before standing straight, wincing slightly as his probably bruised ribcage stretched.
He must've felt her nervous gaze because he looked down at her with a reassuring face and said "I'm alright."
They began to track down the corridors.
They choose to walk to Theodore's room instead of (Name)'s, since he had a single room all by himself, and also because the girls wouldn't be too fond of finding Theodore in the girl's dormitory. They slowly descended the marble stairs that led to the dungeons, both of them walking much slower than before because of the pain in Theodore's stomach.
"Are you sure that we shouldn't go to madame Pomfrey instead?" (Name) asked for the third time as she heard the heavy breathing that came from Theodore, but he once again shook his head in denial.
"I'm fine, promise." He tried to persuade her, but she didn't feel fooled.
"No, I don't believe that you're fine." She argued and stopped in the middle of the stairs in protest of his hardheadedness. And when he noticed that she wasn't by his side, he stopped too and leaned against the wooden stair railing
"Please." His face showed only pleading, and the foreign display of emotion made her desire to fall to her knees for him right then and there, to take him in her arms and baby him for the rest of his life. It scared her to know that the smallest display of weakness that Theodore showed could manipulate her into doing anything. But it would be inevitable to avoid him because of such a -what she thought was- unimportant cause.
"Alright, but at least let me help you walk." She requested almost timidly, afraid that he would protest. But to her delight he nodded, so she walked to him and took his arm over her shoulder before circling her own around his slim waist, and then with all her power, she took a part of his weight onto her shoulders before they began to move, slowly limping to the edge of the old stairs before they walked down the dark dungeon to the entrance of the Slytherin house.
When they stopped in front of the dark wooden door, (Name) turned to look at Theodore for him to understand that she couldn't say the password since she didn't know it.
His cheeks pinked as he realized and he cleared his throat. "Pureblood." She would be flattered by the fact that he dared to say it loud in front of her, apparently trusting her with the password, if it weren't for the fact that her face scrunched in dislike at the password. She didn't say anything about it.
Theodore seemed to gather strength and nearly pulled her with him as he tried to cross the common room as fast as he could, like his injuries suddenly didn't hurt anymore.
(Name) wanted to stop and gape at the Slytherin common room. The first thing that stood out was the large windows on the opposite side, which allowed a view into the depths of the dark lake that you couldn't get anywhere else. There were also small desks placed against the walls and two round tables on the stone floor. And in the middle two black leathered couches took place in front of a hefty fireplace in the wall. By the thought of walls, (Name) turned her eyes up, and there she saw the stone decorations that had been carved into fetching eye-catching glamors.
Theodore pulled harsher at her arm when she slowed down, and she grumbled as he stressed her towards a high-roof corridor, that had another big window by the end that was framed by long green curtains. She believed it to be strange since the corridor wasn't parted into girls or boys as it was in hers. And there were also arguably more than two doors on the walls.
She counted every door they walked past, and ended up with the number 16 when they stopped between the last pair of doors. The door they were facing had two familiar letters engraved on them. T.N, and had been filled in with silver which she believed fitted him well.
Her free hand grabbed the handle and twisted, opening the door into his dark room. Then she stumbled inside. Her body had become tired from carrying Theodore the length of the stairs and corridors, so she walked towards his made bed and gently sat him down before closing the door. And then rolled her shoulders to leverage the pain.
She tried to look around for some kind of lighter or anything that she could use to gain sight. But it turned out to not be needed when all the candles lit up by the flick of Theodore's hand. And also a small fireplace in the corner that cast a warm hue over the room.
"Medical kit is in the top drawer." Theodore's voice was pained, and it made her hurry to the place he pointed so she could get working on his wounds. It was scary to have him sitting there in pain, labored breathing and his expression tight as he attempted not to show his discomfort. A particularly loud groan made her turn around from the desk where the medical things lay.
Theodore was now leaning against the wall with his eyes closed and teeth clenched. And she wondered how he persuaded her into keeping him away from Madame Pomfrey. She also regretted offering her help to heal him in the first place, since the injuries now seemed to be beyond her expertise. His face showed nothing but discomfort and (Name) started to feel nervous. Her medical skills were good but by how Theodore looked at the moment, she seriously started to doubt her skills.
But she didn't say anything and took a cotton pad soaked in anti-bacterial and plasters to cover the wounds with.
When she stood by the edge of the bed she concluded that she would not be able to reach him when he leaned back as he did, and gently poked at his arm to gain his attention." I can't reach you, you need to sit up."
He hummed lowly, (Name) almost missing the sound before he slowly dragged himself to the edge of the bed, his legs dangling off the side.
She didn't hesitate then and positioned herself between his legs before slowly cleaning both around in the open cuts on his temple and lip that she discovered after wiping away the blood that dripped from his nose.
The position they were in made (Name) almost dizzy with nerves, and she longed to get closer. But it was only longing and she didn't dare to do anything about it and therefore stayed at an arm's length. The new feelings made her weak. Made her feel vulnerable, and that too was scary. Extremely scary.
He suddenly hissed as she slipped with her hands. It didn't take a second before an unusual amount of guilt in her chest.
"I'm sorry, I lost focus."
He nodded. A way of showing that it is okay. But his jaw still clenched when she proceeded with the plasters.
"I need to look at your stomach too." There was quiet as she stood in front of him, waiting for him to raise his shirt. But he didn't seem to be compliant. "I only need to check for anything broken."
He seemed to let down his guard when she added the reason, and her body warmed in shame when she understood that Theodore thought she wanted to see his bare skin.
Also because Theodore had started to lift his shirt, revealing his bare skin to her. She felt almost flattered that he trusted her enough to undress like this. But she knew he didn't have much of a choice.
"Lay down please." He once again did as she said, and slowly leaned into his bed, stretching his upper body when his back hit the mattress. It was quiet in the room, the only thing that you could hear being Theodore's uneven breathing and (Name)'s airy gasp when her eyes landed on his bruised ribs.
"By Merlin, what did they do to you?" she asked him while she took a closer look. The left side of his ribcage had been beaten to the point where the bruises turned yellow and green instead of blue and purple.
"What? What is it?" he moved his hand toward the bruises, trying to feel after the thing that had gotten her stunned but she quickly grabbed his wrist so that he wouldn't cause himself any unnecessary pain. Especially not when she had already made him feel enough pain for the rest of her life.
She swallowed and rested Theodore's hand by his side. He stared at her tensely as she brought her hand up, letting it float over his ribcage. This time, his entire body unknowingly tensed as he waited for the pain that would come when she laid her hand on him. But she never did. Instead, she closed her eyes.
Warmth flowed in waves from the palm of her hand and Theodore's body began to slowly un-tense.
Theodore would trust her with his own worthless life if it came to it, and it wasn't why he felt so on edge. To have her fingers, her flesh so close to his own given his heart something to work for and his brain something to think of. And if he weren't in such agony, he would've begged her to touch him. To lay her warm palm upon his beaten skin, to kiss it, to caress it.
His pathetic thoughts were happily interrupted as the pads of her finger accidentally made contact with his sternum, and a delighted shiver crawled its way over his body.
"Sorry." She apologized, thinking that she had caused him pain.
"It didn't hurt." She looked at him with an unbelieving frown, a frown that made his tongue twist when he tried to stutter an answer.
"Or it does hurt, but your touch... doesn't hurt." She barely heard the last part. Barely, but she still did. Her body heat skyrocketed, and she bit the inside of her cheek to hide her flustered expression, and also to stop the dancing butterflies that made their way up her throat.
He didn't know what came over him at that moment, but a sudden urge to tell her everything limped its way into his mind. It was a long time since he felt this vulnerable and was okay with it. An old memory of him as a child in his mother's arms flashed before his eyes, but he quickly locked it away once more.
But he bit his tongue.
He was sure that she thought he looked pathetic. Here he lay, half-naked, beaten bloodied with tears in his eyes and a frown on his face. He didn't know if he enjoyed the thought or not, because while he enjoyed being vulnerable for you, he still didn't want you to think he was weak because of the touch of the woman he had been obsessing over.
"You must care for this person, hm?" She awkwardly laughed as she smoothly changed the subject. She didn't want to know who he fought for, nor why he did it. But it started getting harder and harder for her to keep to the promise she made herself. To keep him at a distance. Both physically and emotionally.
Theodore didn't have time to answer, both because he was overthrown by the complete change of conversation, but also because she spoke again before he even opened his mouth.
"Who is it anyway. I honestly didn't know you could care about someone that much." She joked harmlessly, but the comment made his mouth feel like paper.
"You."
She stopped her magic, fingers retracting into her palm and her head snapped up to meet his eyes, to see if he lied. But she saw only honesty. No side smirk, no crinkle by his eyes, no pursing lips as a way to hide a mischievous smile.
His eyes were peering at her through his lashes, innocent, brown eyes.
"What- What do you mean?"She carefully asked, knowing exactly what he meant. But she needed confirmation.
"It was you who they spoke ill about." He murmured, staring into the abyss of her eyes. Her body burned like it was on fire because of the nerves that he created within her. And she wanted to look away so that she could catch her breath but she deemed it impossible.
A glaze was cast over his eyes, a glaze containing something akin to admiration.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" The question slipped before she could think about stopping it.
Once more, he didn't say anything. But she could feel how he moved. His arm slowly encircled her and the other hand, he raised to her cheek. His fingers danced along her cheekbone, spreading a fire on her skin that she didn't know to be possible until now.
But the moment changed, as did the energy in the room as he carefully leaned closer with big, hopeful eyes. She stood frozen, one part not believing what was about to happen and the other knowing that if she valued herself, she would have to remove herself right now.
Before he took the next step, she pulled her face away.
Deep in her gut, there was a sour scorching feeling that began to spread like poisoning, killing all happiness that was present before and taking the form of angry tears in her eyes. It was unfair, how he could treat her however he liked, be as awful as he wished. And still have her here, sitting in his sheets and bandaging him with gentle hands.
It was unfair.
"You are so contradicting Theodore." Tears were stuck in her voice and she quickly raised from the bed. She didn't want him to see that she was hurting.
"What?" There was a pang in her heart. He sounded small, like a wounded animal.
"You are mean Theodore." She started, turning around to look at him." At first, you treated me like an equal, like a friend. Until you didn't."
He couldn't meet her eyes anymore, regret eating its way from his heart to his skin. She sniffled and cleared her throat when it became harder to keep her tears at bay.
"I thought that I'd done something to make you hate me, and I was sure you did. But then you kept insisting to sit by me, or to be around me and I couldn't understand." Her voice became small, and her tears became uncontrollable. The embarrassment of sobbing in front of him made her stomach churn, and all she wanted was to shrink into herself. She wanted him to laugh at her, to mock her so that she could get over it and move on.
But that wasn't what Theodore wanted at all. He made her feel hated by him when all he wanted was to be loved by her. And he now felt adamant to change that.
However, it's hard when he slowly crumbles as her tears continue to fall.
"I'm sorry."
And he needs to go to her. So he raises himself off the soft bed and limps toward her. But before he gets too close she turns her back on him, hiding from his fierce gaze. He sighed, saddened by her shyness, the one that had worked hard to get through, only to mess it up either way.
She wrapped her arms around herself and bowed her head to the floor when her sobbing turned into hulking and gasps for air. That was when she felt something different. Theodore had enclosed his hands on her upper arms from behind, giving them gentle caresses with his thumbs. And once more, the caresses spread the wildfire. Her body warmed and her breathing calmed as if the comfort worked.
She didn't know why she doubted that his comfort would work in the first place. Maybe because she wanted to think that he wasn't anything special to her. That love didn't do any difference when it came to a person. But he was, and it did.
Suddenly, before she could blink he turned her around and gently tugged her into his bare chest, enclosing his arms around her in an embrace. The hug didn't last long, but it didn't have to because it brought comfort either way. When he pulled away his hands immediately reached for her cheeks.
When his hands cup both sides of her face, she flinches back. But she doesn't get anywhere for his grip is unmoving. His thumb suddenly touched the space between her eyebrows and began slowly stroking the space, evening out the frown on her face.
She swallows hard. "It was never my intention to make you feel this way." He sighed. A deep heartfelt sigh." I just wanted your attention. And your laughs and your love. But my so thought to be efficacious methods didn't seem to be as efficacious as I believed them to be."
A humorous chuckle rumbles through his chest when a tiny, watery smile tugs at the corner of her lips. And then (Name) feels the aftermath of her sobbing catching up to her body, and a headache grows in her skull. And that's why she lets her forehead rest on the space in between his collarbones.
"Can you ever forgive me?" He asks while letting his fingers push her back from her tear-stained face. She makes a sound in the back of her throat.
"How can I not."
Her voice still had a watery touch to it but sounded more optimistic than she had the entire day. And Theodore tightened his arms around her. But the action sent a jolt of pain through his stomach, and therefore staggered into as he tried to lean some of his body weight on her. But since she wasn't ready, she stumbled against the wall.
"Sorry." He mumbled and pulled away from the embrace.
She chuckled while looking towards the floor, before slowly dragging her eyes up to his face. And then, out of pure instinct, she kissed his cheek and his entire body flared up. "You don't have to apologize."
She hoped he realized the double meaning behind her words. And that she truly did forgive him. Perhaps it would be a stupid decision she would come to regret. But it would be a future problem.
A gentle smile licked her features when he once again cupped her cheeks in his warm palms, and she was on top of the world when he slowly leaned closer.
But he moved so slow, and (Name) wanted to feel him and therefore rose to her toes to gently connect the kiss. It was only a peck, and also short-lived. But it was also her first kiss which meant that it still felt like a thousand suns burned in her chest.
But Theodore seemed to think differently, and with a breath, connected their lips into another sweet, blissful kiss. Although this one not only was deeper but also felt like it was. Her heart beat inside her ribs, more alive than ever when Theodore continued to angle her to meet his lips as he wished. As of the moment, he was pushing her into the wall with his chest, trying to feel as much of her as possible. But since he pressed into her, she had to angle her head up so that he would reach her lips.
Her lungs were burning, and her head spun and she had no choice but to pull away. When she did, Theodore quickly tried to connect their lips again, but she didn't let him. It wasn't that she didn't want to kiss him because she did. But she also wanted to look at him. To see his brown eyes, his pink kissed lips, and rosy cheeks.
"You look pretty." She whispered, and lightly kissed his nose. It was out of her character, but it felt right to do so. Especially when she saw the surprised face that he wore.
And at that moment, Theodore felt at peace. There was no itching on his arm, no pain and she was officially his known addiction. He would never let her go now.
•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·••·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·••·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•
I'm so lonely. Anyhow, hope you enjoyed, and that it wasn't to long;)
Quick question, do you prefer 1:st 2:nd or 3:rd pov?
#fanfiction#angst#one shot#x reader#harry potter#theodore x reader#theo x reader#theodore nott angst#theodore nott fluff#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott imagine#lorenzo zurzulo#the halfblood prince#ron weasley#hermoine granger#blaise zabini#harry potter 6#imagine#fluff#theodore x you#theodore x fem!reader#Theodore nott x fem!reader#Theodore nott#theodore nott x you#Mattheo riddle#draco malfoy#slytherin#theodore imagine#Fred and George#theodore one shot
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Golden Era w/ Prompt 14
Now in their Fifth Year at Hogwarts, Mattheo and the Reader are in a happy relationship. Of course, with Professor Umbridge as the new Headmistress, they can't show it. They resort to longing glances in the halls and passing notes in their classes. They can get away with it in most other classes, but Umbridge still teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts...
TW: mentions of blood, open wounds, torture.
"Hold my hand. You're going to be fine"
Mattheo and Y/N had more or less mastered the art of discretion. They had to if there was any hope for their relationship with Dolores Umbridge around. She'd gone on a power trip, her Educational Decrees posted all around Hogwarts.
Number 31 said that boys and girls could not be within 8 inches of each other. Y/N had found that decree to be particularly ridiculous, especially when considering Quidditch practices and games, the teams being comprised of both girls and boys. Speaking of Quidditch, they also weren't allowed to fly unless at an official, authorized practice.
There were ways around the rules. Mattheo had managed to successfully sneak Y/N into their common room in the dungeons on several occasions, and nobody in Slytherin or Gryffindor dared to report them. Especially not since Draco was a member of the Inquisitorial Squad, and one of their best friends. He'd threatened members of their own house with telling Umbridge about their rulebreaking if they said anything about Mattheo and Y/N (on several occasions).
Sneaking into an out of the common room was risky with Filch and Mrs. Norris prowling the halls, so those visits were few and far between. Since many of the other professors disagreed with Professor Umbridge's crazy decrees, they let a lot slide in their classes. This included note passing, which was Mattheo's favorite form of discreet flirting.
"The whole school should be bowing before your beauty", "Your smile tears me apart in all the best ways", and "Each wait between visits pulls apart at my soul, and your kiss is the only thing that can put it back together" were some of the notes Y/N would open and furiously blush about, even hours after receiving them. Professor McGonagall, who disliked Umbridge more than anyone else, was the most lenient with note passing.
Mattheo got his high from breaking the rules in Umbridge's class. He'd turn from his seat in front of her and give her a peck on the lips when Umbridge had her back turned, earning claps on the back from Blaize every time he got away with it. He'd pass back the sweetest notes, and usually Y/N could read it quickly enough and then hide it under her papers and continue to pretend taking notes while actually writing her response.
Usually.
"I'd love you from light-years away, 8 inches is nothing."
Her wide grin quickly turned to a mask of neutrality as Umbridge called her name. "Miss L/N, while I'd be thrilled if you were to prove me wrong, I'm sure you don't find the Theory of Magic so riveting as to grin like a baboon receiving a banana. Show me what you have."
Y/N picked up the note, knowing well what was about to happen, and held the note out to Umbridge. The moment the borish woman had touched the paper, however, it folded itself into a bird, flitted just above reach, and burst into flames. The ashes fell back onto the table like snow, a red rose resting on top of what once was a love note.
"I'm going to ask you once. Who handed you that note?" Umbridge smiled but it looked more like a grimace. She leaned in and said quietly, "Tell me who it was and your punishment won't be as severe." Y/N locked eyes with Mattheo just briefly enough that Umbridge didn't notice, looked back at her and simply shook her head. Umbridge stood up and brushed some non-existent dust from her dress. "Very well then. Detention! My office at 5 o'clock," she leaned in again to finish her sentence with a wicked grin, "sharp."
"I'm so sorry, love. I didn't think she'd have seen it." Mattheo was groveling. He felt absolutely horrible, and Y/N he did, but it was her own fault for not putting the note down sooner. She'd reminded him of that over and over again, but still, he'd apologized relentlessly. She'd just sighed and wolfed down some ham and a roll before heading to Umbridge's office to serve her time.
Umbridge opened the door just as she was about to knock. "Ah, punctuality. We may just be out of here before midnight. Come in. Sit."
Y/N glanced around the room. The walls were bright pink and there were ceramic plates with cats on them, prowling about, not unlike the moving portraits throughout the halls of Hogwarts. Everything in the room was very... pink. Y/N supposed to woman who lived there was, too. She noticed some parchment and a quill at a small desk in the center of the room. She also noticed that there was no ink pot. She took her seat, and Umbridge sat at the bigger desk in the corner of the room.
"You'll write 'I will not be insubordinate' until I tell you that you may stop." Y/N was confused. "Professor, I don't have any ink." The woman chuckled and it sent a chill down her spine. "You won't need any. Begin."
Y/N picked up the quill and started to write on the paper, instantly met with searing pain. She looked at her hand and gasped. There were deep cuts in her own messy scrawl, reading exactly what she'd written on the paper. They healed over before her eyes, and she glanced at the paper.
"Is this-"
"Your blood? That it is. Neat little thing, isn't it?" Umbridge just smiled and then turned back to her paperwork.
Y/N knew things would only get worse for her if she didn't do as she was told, so she picked up the quill and continued to write, grimacing with pain each time the skin on her hand healed over.
After a few hours, the pen couldn't do much to heal her hand. She was smearing her own blood on her hand before continuing to write. She was nearly numb to the pain now, tears in her eyes as Umbridge asked her a question.
"Do you have something to say?"
Y/N was unblinking as a tear slipped down her cheek. "I will not be insubordinate."
"Good girl. I'll write you a note in case one of our wonderful prefects stops you so that you don't end up right back here," she giggles and Y/N shakes violently. "Go directly to your dormitory, do not make any unauthorized stops along the way, unless you intend to use the restroom. Have a good night, and I'll see you in class tomorrow, Miss L/N."
Y/N couldn't find it in herself to go to the restroom, though. She walked straight up to Gryffindor Tower, Godric's painting swinging open for her, with almost an apologetic look. It was like the founder's portrait was saying "I'm sorry for what our institution has turned into." Y/N sees Hermione, Ron and Harry chatting on the couches in the center of the common room. Hermione glances over and immediately stands as she lets out a sob.
"Y/N! You've been in Umbridge's office for hours. She must have been really furious after... your hand!" She scurries over as Y/N looks down and sees the blood still dripping from her hand. "She made you use the quill, didn't she?" Harry doesn't seem shocked at all. She can't seem to make the words come out, so she just nods. "Madam Pomfrey loaned me a roll of tape and some gauze, just in case someone else from our house has to put up with Umbridge's torture. Hermione, do you want to clean her hand while I grab that stuff from my dorm?"
Hermione nods and grabs one of the throw blankets from the couch, whispering Aguamenti and wiping her hand with the wet cloth. Harry is back with the tape and gauze just as Hermione is dabbing her hand to dry it, grimacing each time Y/N hisses in pain. He covers it tightly enough that the bleeding would stop within the next few minutes, but not tight enough to cut off circulation.
"Who passed you the note, Y/N? It was Mattheo, right?" Hermione elbowed Ron. "Ow! What? I was just asking. Quick thinking with the fire." Y/N shook her head. "That wasn't me. We charm the paper we use to pass our notes so that they aren't there in case we're caught. We've never been caught, so I didn't know his would do that. The ink just vanishes from mine when someone other than him and I touches the paper."
Hermione nods, seemingly impressed. "It's very late, I think we should all get some rest. Won't be learning properly if we're all exhausted." She heads up the stairs to her dorm, and Ron and Harry exchange a look before standing, stretching, and heading up the stairs to their own. Y/N just sits on the couch for a while, tracing the words 'I will not be insubordinate' over her bandages.
She doesn't say anything to anyone at breakfast, and is silent in her other classes. Mattheo doesn't try to hand her any notes, but he does cast worried glances and try to make eye contact, but Y/N can't look at him. She can't look at anyone. She's afraid that if she does, Umbridge will accuse her of some other act of insubordination and she'll end up right back in the disgustingly pink office.
She's a model student throughout the rest of the day, hurrying from the room after her last class of the day, Potions. A hand covers her mouth and pulls her through the portrait doorway of the Slytherin common room. She immediately panics, dropping her books and turns to try to leave without them so that she isn't caught somewhere she isn't supposed to be, but a pair of strong arms wrap around her, making hushing noises that are meant to calm her as she sobs.
When she finally calms down enough to stop fighting, Mattheo turns her to face him. He wipes a tear from her cheek, and she looks down. "Oh, baby" he says quietly, heartbreak clear in his tone. He brushes some hair from her face. She starts crying, sobs wracking her body, and he pulls her into his arms. He has one hand at the nape of her neck, the other around her upper back, shushing her once again. When she's calm, he uses his hand to push her chin up. "Look at me."
Y/N forces herself to meet his gaze. Her lip quivers and she sees sorrow and empathy in his deep, brown eyes. He doesn't have to utter a single word for her to know what he's trying to say. He grabs her hand, thankfully the one that isn't wrapped, and walks her to one of the sofas in the middle of the room. He sits down, hand on her hips to hold her close to him, just looking up at her.
Y/N starts to pick at the bandages on her hand, the nervousness from before creeping up into her again. She looks towards the door, expecting Filch to suddenly burst into the room and drag her by her hair all the way up to Umbridge's office. Mattheo pulls her out of her thoughts, gingerly grabbing her wrist to exam the bandages. He slowly and carefully peels them back to look at the damage.
She sees his jaw clench and unclench and then clench again, and there's a dangerous look in his eyes. He takes a deep breath, gently covering the cuts that are sure to scar, and kisses the rebandaged hand. "I'm sorry. I love you so much. I'm sorry."
Y/N is violently shaking again as she sobs, and he grabs her uninjured hand. "Hold my hand. You're going to be fine. I'm here. I'm sorry. I love you so much."
He stands, crossing the room to grab something resting on the mantle. He turns, a red rose in his hand. He hands it to her, and as she takes it, he presses a kiss to her forehead. He holds her close as she twirls the rose between her fingers. "That bitch will pay. Someday, she'll pay." It's a promise that he makes to her, and to himself. "I'm sorry. I love you."
#mattheo riddle#draco malfoy#blaize zabini#theodore nott#enzo berkshire#slytherin#slytherin boys#x reader#reader insert#harry potter#hermione granger#ron weasley#golden era
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Okayyy hello everyone ! I'm French and bored so let's write !
But before : my rules
So these are the fandoms and character I will write for (in French or English) :
Acotar
Rhysand (my husband actually)
Azriel (my other husband)
Cassian (another one yep)
Feyre
Elain
Nesta (my wife omg)
Mor (my other wife)
Emerie
Gwyn
Lucien
Eris
Helion and other high Lords (except Tamlin, I am a fervent feminist so it's a slander Tamlin blog here)
Lotr
Aragorn
Legolas
Boromir
Faramir
Frodo
Sam
Merry
Pipin
Gandalf ?
Elrond
Arwen
Galadriel
Eowyn
Eomer
Harry Potter
Harry Potter
Ron Weasley
Hermione Granger
Ginny Weasley
Fred Wealsey
George Weasley
Cedric Diggory
Luna Lovegood
Draco Malfoy
Pansy Parkinson
Blaize Zabiniq
Theodore Nott (omg my husband)
Mattheo Riddle
Tom Riddle
Lorenzo Berkshire
James Potter
Sirius Black
Remus Lupin
Lily Evans
Regulus Black
If you have a character or fandoms not written here, ask me anyway if I can write because I sometimes forget some :)
#acotar#lotr#harry potter#rhysand x reader#cassian x reader#azriel x reader#aragorn x reader#legolas x reader#theodore nott x reader#mattheo riddle x reader#morrigan#feyre archeron#nesta archeron#elain archeron#lucien acotar#draco malfoy#hermione granger#james potter#writing#writers on tumblr#writerscommunity#female writers
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Oh hello! I thought I would just ask you what you thought about Brian Masters' biography of EF Benson? I'm about a third of the way through and my mind is buzzing with it!
Hey! I think it captured his life rather well, and the writing style is pleasant and accessible. It's a good introductory reading not only for those who want to know about Fred, but also about the Benson family, considering his parents and siblings are figures with constant presence, and they were quite an interesting lot. His relationship with Arthur is wonderful, since they were very different men, but clearly fond of each other.
I do wonder about some Masters' takes, though. It's worth mentioning this book was published in 1991, and the world has changed a lot since then. For instance, Masters wrote that "Inevitably, a few of the fans claimed David Blaize as their own for reasons Fred would genuinely abhor, and he would not have been pleased to learn that the novel is still on the list of homosexual book clubs. Clearly, it does not belong there, for it contains nothing overtly erotic and, indeed, bases its theme upon the purifying power of goodness."
Well, we know Fred was a reserved guy. He also wasn't very lefty, certainly not some social activist who's trying to change the rules of society. But I don't think he would’ve rejected his "gay writer" contemporary status, nor the more accepting situation of homosexuality in the current Western world.
He wasn't nearly as much repressed as Arthur and Hugh. He was well-connected in homosexual circles too, and not really religious. I think there's a strong possibility his "sphinx mode" was just a way he found to live his life more freely, without having to bother about the repercussions (including among his family) of his “sneaky” actions. His Capri vacations seem to indicate this, and to me it's clear he had sex with men (Eustace Miles and Francis Yeats Brown are obvious suspects). He wasn't a prude, like Masters stated, but he did live in a prude world. He probably would’ve enjoyed to live in a more relaxed reality like ours, which explains why he seemed so fixated on his childhood experiences.
Sometimes I wish he had the guts to push boundaries, particularly at the end of his life. I feel Ravens' Brood could've been a truly groundbreaking work if only he had allowed himself to be more frank and honest about the subject he wanted to talk about. But then again, Fred wasn't a revolutionary type, he was a man who enjoyed his conventional status in society. The likes of David Blaize and The Inheritor were already risqué enough for him.
By the way, there’s another E. F. Benson biography called As He Was, by Geoffrey Palmer and Noel Lloyd. I only read a few parts of it, but their take on David Blaize seems spot on:
Never had a character taken him over so completely, never had he written with such lack of inhibition about himself. True, it was himself as a boy, but it was a true, clear picture of adolescent passions.
He thought he could do it by depicting himself under the name of David Blaize as he really had been, or had wanted to be, all those years ago: yellow-haired, sunny-natured and of an unbelievable goodness.
A Very Queer Family Indeed by Simon Goldhill is another interesting book about the Benson family. I find it much less accessible and more academic-y than Masters’ book, though.
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Healing Hands by the Fire
geralt of rivia x afab!reader
words: 3,684
warnings: smut !! 18+ (minors dni) ; squint and you may see a casual plot
summary: Geralt visits Reader, a healer, with severe injuries.
a/n: very out of my comfort zone. however, i promised my friend to write this as her christmas present because writing fanfics are my love language. good thing i know basic things about the witcher heheehe.
How did she always end up here? Months without a word or seeing him. She had accepted the peace. Only occasionally did she perk up when there was a knock on her door, secretly hoping it was him. But only one could be so lucky. Instead, it was travelers from all over the Continent who heard word of her abilities.
She couldn’t complain. Healing others in exchange for seeds, food, and sometimes money. Not that it was required for her service but she couldn’t complain about the gratuity.
In fact, she enjoyed helping others. However, it was nearing winter and there were less travelers. They were most likely home to prepare for the violent winter storms that damned the Continent.
It was one of the first snow falls of the season. She had finished feeding the chickens and her horse Atticus. That was always her nighttime routine. Feed the animals, make some tea, study until all the tea is drunk, and finally get ready for bed.
Some might think the routine would get tiring, but there was never any guarantee. It was the one consistent thing in her life at the moment. She was content.
However, some nights, she heard the enchanted chimes outside that let her know someone was approaching. But before she made it to the door, it swung open, snow flurries drifted inside. The cold was sharp and pricked her nose, making her sniffle.
In most cases she would be alarmed. There was no telling what creatures or people were harmless and which ones weren’t. She clutched the nearest thing to her— a broom that always gave her splinters when she used it.
His snow white hair peeked from under his hood and she recognized the distinct low grumble that could be mistaken as a quake. He slowly closed the door, ensuring it was locked this time. “You startled me.” She said, releasing her grip from the broom, checking her hand for any loose wood.
“You should keep the door locked. What if I was a dangerous man breaking in?” She played it off as a joke, not seeing the concerned look on his face.
“Some might say you are dangerous.” She smirked. She never expected him to react to her jokes, but she could feel the warmth blanket around her when his shoulders relaxed. “Are you going to stand there all night?”
He limped further into the cabin. She could see the snow melting on his cloak, dripping on her floor. “You made a mess,” she huffed.
His head lifted and cat-like eyes met hers. It was known his abilities and job forced him to lack showing how he felt. But, she noticed right away how his eyes drooped that he was in pain.
She ran towards him, immediately untying his cloak so that it dropped to the floor. She gasped at the large claw marks scratched into his chest. He could withstand most injuries but the cuts had broken past the many layers of skin.
“Fuck, Geralt. What happened?” Her finger ghosted over the wound on his shoulder. Almost immediately he grabbed her wrist. But she didn’t pull away.
“I’m starving.” He took a moment to look her up and down before letting go of her wrist and walking past her.
Unbelievable. She scoffed and followed him into her den. “Are you serious? Geralt, you’re hurt and need to be healed before you get an infection.”
“I smell meat pie. Do you have any to spare?” He left no time for her to answer. He grabbed the plate on a table and began to shove them in his mouth. He groaned in satisfaction.
She wanted to be annoyed, but she had never seen him act this way. So instead she watched as he stuffed his face. He sat down slowly in a wooden chair. His large body mass made it creak, rocking it with the sound of the crackling fire. His spastic breathing mellowed out into a deep sigh.
He was definitely hurting from his wound but there was something else. She could sense that something was bothering him. Yet, she didn’t pry for an explanation. Instead, she let him watch the fire as she gathered her supplies of elixirs and jars. Then she picked up the pot full of water hanging above the fire and poured it into a bowl. The steam warmed her face that was still cold from earlier.
“Are you still hungry? I think I only have bread.” She sat her things on the table next to him, but not looking in his direction. However, she could feel his piercing eyes watching her every single move. “If you’re not feeling like bread I can stay up and make you soup.”
His hand flew to her wrist. She jumped, nearly knocking over a bottle with green shiny liquid. She turned her head slightly, sighing deeply. “It hurts,” Geralt mumbled.
His wound was red, inflamed, and looked worse in the light. And if Geralt says it hurts then it was worse than she had imagined. “Take your tunic off while I prepare.” Although it was her giving the instruction, she couldn’t help the heat on her cheeks arise. Especially when he did what he was told. She had only seen his bare chest a handful of times, but each time made her stomach knot up.
He took a heavy breath as he settled back into the chair, wincing when she placed a hot cloth on his open wound. His nails dug into the chair. His teeth clenched as he threw his head back. She couldn’t help but giggle. In return, he snapped his head to look at her, visibly annoyed. “What?”
She swatted him for the rash reaction. “No need to be hot headed, Geralt. I was only laughing because I’ve never seen you act so dramatic.”
“I’m not being dramatic,” he argued. He winced again when the cloth touched his skin once more. He rolled his eyes when he noticed the smirk she tried to hide from him, her hair covered her face. Not thinking, he took his finger and pushed it out of the way so he could see her more clearly.
She tried to ignore the knot in her stomach or how her chest was breathing differently. She even tried to look away subtly but the only thing she could look at without being suspicious was his bare chest. “How’s Yennefer?”
The change of subject was almost as if she had poured salt into his fresh wounds. He yanked his hand away and turned his head to face the fire, jaw ticked. She should’ve felt guilty for bringing up his on and off lover. Instead, she felt relieved his attention was no longer on her and probably wouldn’t be the rest of the night.
That’s how it always went. He would get too close and right before she fell under his spell she would mention the other woman. She had only met the sorceress once. They neither liked or disliked one another. Yet, she could tell there would not be any attempts to go frollicking in a field like they were the best of friends.
In some ways, she had been jealous of Yennefer– she was interesting and traveled the Continent and had fought in many wars. She was beautiful and cunning. Of course Geralt would pick her as a lover.
“Ow.” Geralt grimaced, shifting in the chair. Her fingers were touching the wounds, and spreading them apart. “Are you about done? I’m tired.”
She continued to inspect his wounds closely, having to push between his legs to get a closer look. “I have to ensure there are no severe damages so I know what to make.” His huff made her roll her eyes. She wanted to swat him for still acting like a child. “Whatever got you, got you good, eh?”
He looked away then back at her, swallowing. “Yes, I suppose.”
There was a beat of silence. Only the fire was popping.
“I thought I was goin’ to die.” He said out loud in a low whisper. Almost like he didn’t want her to hear him.
She stopped briefly to look up at him. He was serious. “Well, fortunately whatever it was missed your heart by a hair.” She pointed to where his heart was and traced a line to the start of one of the scratches only millimeters away. She got up, leaving him with a witty smile as she started to pour the many different potions into a different bowl.
“Me and Yennefer haven’t spoken in months,” he admitted.
It was hard not to react, but she had never seen him willingly talk about the woman before. “Oh.”
“We wanted different things I suppose,” he continued. “If it weren’t for Ciri’s letters, then I wouldn’t even know if she was still alive.”
“You miss her?” It was meant to sound like a question, but it came across as a statement.
He looked down at his hands, ashamed. “I’m not sure if I’m allowed to miss someone.”
“Are you not allowed or are you unsure you know what it’s supposed to feel like?”
He didn’t answer.
She walked back and found her place again between his legs. “Missing someone feels like always looking at the door when there’s a knock, and your heart skips a beat, hoping it’s them.” She dipped her finger in the cream she had made and started to apply it to the open wound.
“I don’t live in a cottage with a door.” His hands creeped to his thighs so they brushed her as she moved.
She finished with the first cut and moved onto the second, which was much deeper and longer. “Well, missing someone can also feel like wanting to cry even when you’re happy.”
“You do know I have emotions?” He quizzed her.
She smirked. “Of course I do. I was only trying to help you figure out if you miss Yennefer.”
He hummed, running a finger over the first wound she had treated which was starting to already heal. His skin attaching itself together again. “I miss her, but not in the way you think I do.”
“Then in what way?” She raised her brow, clearly confused as to what he meant.
He didn’t answer her right away. “Not in the way I miss you.”
The bowl in her hand nearly clattered to the floor. She froze, replaying the words over and over as if she hadn’t heard him. Did Geralt really admit to missing her? No, he doesn’t actually mean it. He was messing with her. “That’s not funny.” Her breath was shaky. In fact, her hands were shaky too as she tried to continue healing him.
“Did I make a joke?” His tone was unwavering. He placed his hand on her warm cheek, brushing his thumb over her soft flesh. He had never touched her so intimately like he was now.
She shook her head, using her free hand to brush him away, focusing on the rest of his injuries. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. You’re delusional.”
“I thought your potions helped with that?”
Her eyes flickered up to meet his, briefly, before averting them back to the bowl. She swooped the last of the cream on her finger and spread it slowly over the last scratch. The others had closed up but one could make out the red scar. “Those will go away in due time,” she mumbled.
As she tried to get up he caught her arm, standing up with her, and in doing so their chests were against one another. He could feel her heavy breathing. And she could feel the warmth from his body electrifying hers.
“I should go make your bed. You need to rest.” She tried to walk away but his grip never left her arm. “Geralt.”
He took the bowl from her hands and placed it back on the table. “How much longer will you deny it?”
She swallowed the gasp that had almost escaped her, shaking her head. “What do you mean?” Finally, she had pulled away but made no efforts to leave the room, only stepping back to make space between them. And of course he could probably read her like an open book while she only had his stoic expressions to decipher. He opened his mouth, but closed it, sighing loudly. “Thank you, Y/n.”
Her face softened.
“I don’t… I don’t know what I would’ve done if it weren’t for you. In fact, I don’t know what I would do without you.” His jaw slacked, watching her intensely.
She could feel the pull, like a magnet, all too familiar when it came to Geralt. Normally, she had to ignore it. But at that moment, it felt like a boiling pot of water, steaming and bubbling, unable to contain itself. And as she looked into his piercing eyes, the knot in her stomach told her it was time to say something. “Geralt.” Her voice was above a whisper. “I have something to tell you.”
“Yes?” His expression never faltered.
She shifted her feet, uncomfortable. “I… I um… I’m making oat porridge in the morning.” She had decided it was best to hold back what she really wanted to say. “I’ll go prepare your room.”
His yellow eyes narrowed, searching for hers. She knew he was watching the emotions swirl through her mind. She knew that he knew that wasn’t what she really wanted to say to him. “No.” He was assertive and the growled vibrations dragged along her back like a dagger, giving her chills.
Ignoring the goosebumps along her arms, she ran her hand over her face. “What do you want me to say?” She felt like a twig that had snapped. “Why are you being mean? You stand there forcing a confession out of me. A confession you will never get because there’s nothing to say.” Her tears burned in the corner of her eyes. She hated how foolish she looked in front of him. Crying and blubbering because he decided to dig deeper.
They had a routine. He would knock on the door and she would heal his wounds. Their deep conversations were rare, and sometimes he wouldn’t speak at all. Sometimes he would leave in the morning without a word. So why must this time be any different than the others?
“You’re angry.”
She scoffed. “Yes, I’m angry.” Unable to face him, she turned to look at the fireplace, shaking her head. “That’s the most frustrating part of all of this. I’m angry that you’re here. I’m angry that I don’t see you for months with no word if you’re even alive. I’m angry that you show up when I’m missing you the most.” Her eyes caught his, her nostrils flared. She had had enough of it, storming up to him and putting a finger against his bare chest. “I’m angry that you sit there and touch me and talk to me like we’re lovers. I’m angry that you won’t go to someone else for help. Because I can’t do it anymore, Geralt. I can’t do it.”
And there it was. Years worth of bubbling water, spilling over the pot and all over the floor. She had made a mess that she wasn’t sure if she would be able to clean up.
Geralt’s jaw ticked, his eyes scanning her face. “You wish to not see me anymore? Would that be easier?”
Her finger fell slowly from his chest. Her voice trembled. “It’s easier than caring about you.”
Geralt brought his hand up slowly to her cheek, brushing his knuckle against a tear. “I am angry at you too,” he whispered. Her brows furrowed, unsure what he meant. “I told you I have feelings too. Yet, you assume I don’t. You assume I don’t care about you either.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Do you?”
“Why do you think I keep coming back?” His jaw slacked.
The tension between them was thick and palpable. She wasn’t sure what else there was to say. Her heart was torn. Even with the confession, there was no guarantee. He was a Witcher with responsibilities that were not suitable for the life she wanted. She pushed it away, cracking a smile. “Are you saying that you got injured on purpose? So you could see me?”
“Perhaps.” The corner of his mouth flickered, leaning his head down towards her.
“You could’ve died.” She stepped closer to him, tracing her finger of his scars, looking at his lips.
“But I didn’t.” He said against her mouth, finally closing the gap between them.
He wrapped his arms around her, strong and sure, deepening the kiss. It was gentle but fierce, full of longing and tension that had been built up along the years. It tasted like all the warm tea she had made for him over time.
When she moaned, Geralt took the opportunity to slip his tongue in her mouth, gliding it tenderly and carefully against hers, groaning in satisfaction. He somehow managed to pull her closer as if their bodies weren’t already meshed together.
It was her who broke away first, both of them gasping for air, chests heaving from the heavy kiss. Geralt’s eyes had turned black, his senses heightened, craving more.
Without a word, she unbuttoned her blouse, freeing her chest as she dropped it to the floor. She kissed Geralt again on the mouth, his neck, and then his chest. She whispered in his ear, “I think I should go prepare your room now.”
He nodded, allowing her to take his hand to lead him to her room, rather than the room up in the attic that her guests normally stayed in. It was full of knick knacks and books scattered. Her bed was unmade, but neither one of them cared.
She pushed him on the bed, straddling his lap, peppering kisses all over his chest. If she was smart, she would savor all of it– every kiss and touch. But fuck all of it. She had waited too long to savor it. She grinded herself against his hardness, smiling against his ear when she felt him jump through his trousers. Something had told her it was too long for him too.
The rest of their clothes had found a new place on the floor of her bedroom. She was now laying down, Geralt hovered over her, his chain dangled over her face, and his hands roamed over her bare body as she whimpered under his touch. His lips attacked her neck, trailing down her body, relishing every inch.
“Geralt,” she mewled.
She felt the vibrations of his chuckle, revitalizing her, the warmth between her legs now ached. “Yes?” He came back towards her mouth, placing a life-wrecking kiss on it.
She nibbled his bottom lip. “You know.”
“Mm, I don’t think I do,” he teased. His hand was between her legs, fingers gliding, taunting her.
She thrusted her hips upwards, forcing friction against her swollen clit, gasping when he slid a finger in her. “I need you.”
The pitiful look in her eyes convinced him enough to give her what she wanted. And because any longer, he felt like he would combust. Geralt pushed her legs apart and then guided his girthy length to her entrance, sliding it in slowly.
She gasped as he sunk deeper inside her, finally able to marvel all of her. It was sweet like the honey she snuck in his tea. Rich like the pastries she packed in his knapsack whenever he left in the mornings, without saying goodbye because he was afraid he would never leave if he saw her golden smile in the mornings. Yet, he wasn’t strong enough to never come back.
At first, his thrusts were slow and tender, slipping so deep that his tip reached as far as it could. She gripped his shoulders, nails forming crescents, back arching as he picked up the pace. She wanted to hug him with her thighs, but his hands were sure to keep them open and spread for him.
The sounds of their sticky skin crashing together blended with their moans and grunts, forming a delectable melody. She pulled him into an open-mouth sloppy kiss, humming. The bed rattled beneath them, his pace was dangerously close to cracking the frame.
In a swift move, he pulled her up, so that she was straddling him. Their bare chests flushed together, her face in the crook of his neck, whimpering as she bounced on his cock. “I’m… fuck,” she breathed, unable to make the words as it hit her sweet spot.
“Me too.” He slightly pushed her shoulders back, wanting to see her. His palm cradled her face, swallowing the thickness stuck in his throat. He knew he looked destroyed. He didn’t show how he felt often, but the pent up tension over the year had finally arisen.
“G…Geralt!” She shouted as her walls closed around him, releasing her orgasm around him, resting her forehead on his chest as he continued to move her up and down. She clutched onto him as if she was about to float away.
He threw his head back as his cock twitched, finishing, He thrusted through his climax, panting as he slowed to a halt. His senses were still high and could hear the fire still crackling in the den. He could feel her breathing still rugged and hot, sticking to his chest.
She couldn’t see it but Geralt let a small smile briefly appear as he stroked her bare back. He placed a kiss on the top of her head. She looked up at him, running her fingers through his snow-white hair. “Will you stay one more night?”
He tilted his head, brows knitted together. “Are you still angry with me?”
A mischievous glimmer crossed her eyes. “If I am, does that mean you’ll stay?”
He snickered, placing a peck on her lips, lingering, scared if he were to break away she’d disappear.
Angry or not, he was going to stay one more night.
#geralt x reader#geralt of rivia x reader#geralt x y/n#geralt x you#geralt smut#geralt x reader smut#the witcher fanfiction#the witcher smut#the witcher x reader#the witcher x you#the witcher x y/n#the witcher fic#blaize writes#geralt of rivia imagine#the witcher imagine
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I am having angsty thoughts
Specifically, what's rotating around my head is the crows are in a fight. And Wylan sets up a bomb. And it goes wrong
It goes off too early. And Jesper's stood near it, doing what he does. He's so focused he doesn't notice Wylan's warning until it's too late and the bomb goes off. Right next to his ear
He's not hurt. But he loses his hearing in one ear completely. Imagine how that would fuck with him. His balance. His self-worth. His relationship with Wylan because you know Wylan feels unimaginably guilty about what happened
Thinking about him dealing with that
Ofc
NO BECAUSE I READ A FIC WHERE WYLAN LOST HIS HEARING FROM THIS BUT LIKE, I NEVER HEARD OF IT HAPPENING TO JESPER
Maybe he was too close to a flash bomb? He's too close and Wylan is like "Jesper move" because it's gonna go off but like, Jesper doesn't hear because he fires his gun or smth?
Oh Wylan would feel so guilty 😭
I kinda like the only losing it in one ear? Like how you mentioned balance? It would throw him off real bad.
Jesper would have trouble in a fight. He'd have to learn how to redo a lot of things, and he'd definitely have trouble shooting for a while.
Oh God, the relationship exploration-
Casually thinking about it, angst Demjin.
#bestie#write it#please#one shot one shot one shot#blaize <3#blaize's ask#blaize's beautiful brain#the angst demjin strikes again
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FREEBIE QUESTION, BUT IT'S FOR ALL OF YOUR FANDOM CHARACTERS AND ORIGINAL CHARACTERS
SPILL THE TEA TO ME, SIS!!!
HFJSI GIRRRLLLL YOU'RE OPENING PANDORA'S BOX
In terms of main Kirby OCs (fandom/franchise characters):
Eave, Twyla, Fintan, Slinx, Squire, King Orpheus, Jesse, Ducky and the Dusters, Princess Alatariel, Nimue & Gilroy, and Malacai
I love all my goobers to pieces! And Orpheus, oh Orpheus has taken over my life. I no longer have control over my story because of him. It's his story now, and I'm the lowly servant who's constantly subjected to his demands for me to rewrite things 😭 I've rewritten his intro episode at least 5 times, and now he's injected himself into DotS:MMM. Orpheus PLEASE I NEED A BREAK— I WAS JUST FINISHING PART 6 IN SCRIPT FORMAT YOU JERK
Thia man's made me rewrite his ENTIRE BACKSTORY THREE TIMES! And now I have to rewrite his WHOLE NOVEL SERIES. YES THE WHOLE NOVEL DEDICATED TO JUST HIM. I have to rewrite it from THE GROUND UP. JUST AS I FINISHED CHAPTER 2.
CHAPTER 2 HAS BEEN COMPLETELY SLAMMED OUT OF CANON. I spent 4 months writing it and he just went "mmmm nah, not canon". 20+ pages. TWENTY. PLUS. PAGES. Right in the trash. Gone. Reduced to atoms. I love Orpheus. But he likes to make me work. I'm not allowed to relax 😭 and what's worse is that's also in character for him 😭😭😭😭 I can't control this man, he controls MEEEE *SOB*
Woes aside– Main official characters that I manage in DotS are the following:
Meta Knight, Galacta Knight, Sir/King Arthur, Magolor, Kirby (shared), and Bandana Waddle Dee (shared)
My sis and co-writer @starlightfyre handles other officials in our AU! She's got King Dedede, Taranza, all of Arthur's knights (Falspar, Dragato, etc.), and more!
They're all pretty neat! :D
Original character and original content rambling below the cut here, if anyone is interested in my OG projects:
In terms of active proper OCs, my main cast has been demoted to just being doodle buddies and officially retired from being a series. All my OCs are sorta on standby until I have some story ideas for them! My mains under World Jumpers are these goobers:
Oswald, Tempest, Blaize, Asoné, Raymond, and Xylea! Ozzy and Tempest are the protagonists with the rest being secondary!
I've wrestled with their story for so long that I decided to throw in the towel and admit defeat early this year. It's been 14 long years with these guys collectively, and no actual plot or meaning to their story? Yeah no time to shelve it for good. I have a very fleshed out world for them, but it's really detailed to the point where it's kinda convoluted, but it's been set in stone for so long that I can't undo it without shattering everything
So I figured it'd just be better to start fresh with something else later. I love WJ, but after the history I've had with WJ, it's better that I leave it to rest. The world and story was too big for just me, and I tried for years to find a partner as passionate about the world as I was, but none were. I lost my passion after getting burned out due to stress writing and drawing everything. I love WJ, love my characters and world, but it's a story that never wanted to be told
Since then I've sort of been at a loss on what to do next in terms of original projects. I've got loads of WIP ideas and concepts from over the years, but none have really jumped up at me like DotS has for years 😭
I have a lot of OCs, like A LOT. I had a list and there's like easily 100+ named characters in WJ's universe alone
The others are much smaller! These are all my WIP OG stories:
Project: "Listen" | Animated anthro film inspired by "Cats Don't Dance", focuses on Kaeden who is a mute genet whose dream is to be an actor, despite having a job as a director easily lined up for him. Faces a bit of adversity in a market that hankers for a voice; he becomes friends with a frustrated actress who's been locked into the same kind of roles for years, and wishes to do more, who becomes a voice for Kaeden when he needs it most (I aspire to have an actual deaf/mute person be Kaeden's voice through sign language, since animators will nees references for his dialogue; they'll be put in the credits as his voice because they are! LOVE!)
Project: "Dragon Rider" | Sort of a chosen-one story with a twist, focuses on the struggle between duty and desire. Female protagonist is the prophesized reincarnation of a figure that's meant to bring her tribe into a new golden age, but when she bonds with an unexpected and common kind of dragon (and not the big gaudy one they expected), she faces a dilemma: follow the wishes of her people or her own heart?
Project: "Willemina" | Sci-fi detective story that was originally a spinoff of WJ, so it's set in the same universe. Main protag is non-binary hoomin (human-like species of mine), Willemina, a former space ranger gone private detective investigating the mysterious murder of a local guardian. Will befriends the late guardian's companion, a sweet little Weapon Spirit, and sets out to solve the mystery together (and discovering said weapon spirit's very useful defensive abilities)
Most everyone from each respective story has concept art or complete designs!
#answered#oc asks#fc asks#character asks#fan character asks#asks open#blazin beeps#blazin answers#oc rambling#fc rambling#kirby#kirby series#magolor#dreams of the stars#hoshi no kirby#kirby oc#hoshi no kaabii
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every story is about love actually. to me
#writing#blaize rambles#stories#myths#reading#all types of love#platonic love#romantic love#queer#queer community#lgbtq
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Second take of my Mythology AU this time of a pairing.
A bigger writing featuring their story together is coming soon.
Note if wanna you can pair either with a twst oc au version of Ares or Aphrodite as wrote this in way it can be for any even if the two are my main rot twst ship.
Adan Blaize ~ Based on Ares
The coliseum champion,with a undefeated streak like no other. Being put up against him highly means your downfall. In that circle of stone he is mean,ruthless,and downright unmerciful...people fear him even when he walks the streets normally. He takes pride in it and hates if anyone tries to walk pass him so close like you walk on equal grounds with him. His mother is the only one to tame him usually but not many get to see his loving side with her as his title he just to prideful about it.
Little did he know on a random day someone would test him..walk pass him so close he could smell their scent like it was part of the wind. Figured it must of been a mistake or someone got some real guts to step that close....that had something he wasn't expecting to fall crazy in love with.
Aruna ~ Based on Aphrodite ~ They/Them in AU
Little is know where this beauty came from but city hasn't been the same since. Are they man or woman? It's a question all who eye them wish to know so Aruna is quite popular to try to swoon with lavish gifts and quick words. Seems alittle unfair this lovely can't utter a word so can't speak up for themselves. Constantly being given to one then another without a concern for how they feel. Finally a wealthy smithworker who eyed them for a long time decided they would be his.
Gave Aruna the unwanted gift of a entire arranged marriage using his wealth to show he would take care of them the best and it was agreed upon by others not Aruna. They hated this,the way he looked at them made them feel awful. Every night when they could be alone they walked quietly along the streets seeing the happy people at night wishing they were happy too. They hoped every night..til one night a sign under the moonlight happened.
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland oc#twst oc#twst au#mythology au#adan#aruna#ares and aphrodite
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Master list
Requests open for all these characters. I don’t really have anything I won’t write but I won’t do like really explicit smut.
I actually love requests so pleaaaaaaaasee if you have something you want, ask!!
Also if you want another character from anything just ask cause I’ll do research and make sure you get what you ask for!
Key: fluff-🌸 angst-💔 smut-❤️🔥
OBX
JJ Maybank
“Idiot”🌸
Reconciling 🌸💔
Lie?💔🌸
Bad timing 🌸
Pope Heyward
Nothing here
John B Routledge
Surprise🌸
Rafe Cameron
Lie?💔🌸
Web cam❤️🔥
Barry
Nothing here
Sarah Cameron
Nothing here
Kiara Carrera
Nothing here
WEDNESDAY
Xavier Thorpe
Jealousy 💔🌸
You can draw anything, so why me?🌸
A little too far🌸💔
Ghost 🌸
Enemies💔🌸
Ajax petropelous
Nothing here
Wednesday Addams
Nothing here
Goody Addams
Nothing here
Enid Sinclair
Keep me in your life💔🌸
Bianca Barclay
Nothing here
Avatar (twow)
Jake sully
Nothing here
Rotxo
Nothing here
Norm spellman
Nothing here
Tsu’tey
Nothing here
Lo’ak
Nothing here
Neteyam
I will love you for the rest of my life-💔
Ao’nung
Nothing here
Tsireya
Nothing here
Neytiri
Nothing here
Kiri
Nothing here
The vampire diaries/The originals
Damon Salvatore
Hurt💔
First🌸
Stefan Salvatore
Nothing here
Kai Parker
Nothing here
Niklaus Mikaelson
I don’t want to-🌸
Elijah Mikaelson
Nothing here
Kol Mikaelson
Nothing here
Rebekah Mikaelson
Nothing here
Elena Gilbert
Nothing here
Bonnie Bennett
Nothing here
Caroline Forbes
Nothing here
Kathrine Pierce
Nothing here
Harry Potter
Draco Malfoy
Nothing here
Mattheo Riddle
Nothing here
Theodore Nott
Nothing here
Lorenzo Berkshire
Nothing here
Ron Weasley
Nothing here
Harry Potter
Nothing here
Blaize Zabini
Nothing here
Hermione Granger
Nothing here
Luna lovegood
Nothing here
Ginny Weasley
Nothing here
Pansy Parkinson
Nothing here
May add more :)
Preferences
Obx
They find out you self harm-💔
Wednesday
They find out you self harm-💔
Avatar (twow)
Nothing here
TVD/TO
Nothing here
Harry Potter
Nothing here
#masterlist#request#reqs open#x reader#obx#outer banks#wednesday#avatar 2009#avatar twow#the vampire diaries#the originals#harry potter#obx x reader#obx x y/n#obx x you#wednesday x reader#wednesday x y/n#wednesday x you#avatar 2009 x reader#avatar twow x reader#tvd x you#tvd x reader#the originals x y/n#the originals x reader#the originals x you#harry potter x y/n#harry potter x you#harry potter x reader#hp x y/n#hp x reader
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