#meet the blanket wizard

[iknewiwouldregretthis]

living alone has its dangers. for instance, what if one day you make a jacket out of an old blanket, but it turns out more like a robe and you model it for your friends and they say you look like you're a blanket wizard so then you start referring to the blanket robe itself as the Blanket Wizard as in i'm knitting pockets for the Blanket Wizard but also whomever wears the robe is also the Blanket Wizard and you tell your coworkers about the Blanket Wizard and they're confused but also intrigued and you end up spending all your time thinking about how you can make the Blanket Wizard even greater

[writers-potion]

Let's Scare Your Readers!

Combine the techniques below with the techniques for building suspense to give your readers a palm-sweating sensation!

Darkness

If absolute darkness doesn't make sense in your story, aim for semi-darkness: dusk, a single lantern/candle, heavily curtained windows, a thick canopy of trees, etc. Flickering lights that create confusing shadows can also be effective.

Let the darkness pool gradually around your MC. Show the night or fog rolling in, the camp-fire subsiding, or the candles burn down one by one.

Examples:

The candle sputtered. The light wavered.

The lamp cast its smoky light on the brick walls.

The night was silent, but for the dry rustling of leaves as the wind whispered through the trees.

Sound

Of all the senses, the sense of hearing serves best to create excitement and fear.

the clacking of the villain's boots on the floor tiles, the ticking of the wall clock, a dog barking outside, the roaring of a distant motor, a door slamming somewhere in the house, water dripping from the ceiling, the chair squeaking, the whine of the dentist's drill, the scraping of the knife on a whetstone, a faraway siren wailing the heroine's own heartbeat thudding in her ears.

When the surroundings are dark, your MC will grow to be more aware of the surrounding noise, even if it's not relevant to the plot.

Chill

Make it uncomfortably cold for the MC, and your readers will shiver with them.

powercut cutting off the heating, nightfall naturally bringing in lower temperatures.

winter, evening, a cool breeze that chills everything, survivors running our of fuel, the ceiling fan is over-active, stone builindg/caves/sbuterranean chambers tend to be cold.

Describe how the cold pinpricks the MC's skin, stunting their thinking and making them shiver.

The opposite can also be effective: turn up the temperature using a stove, an overheated motor, or the sweltering sun to make the MC sweat.

Isolation

This is a common technique: let the MC face the monster alone with no external help. It's also easier to limit the resources and escape routes available for the MC.

an abandoned factory, remote mountaintop, the depth of an unexplored cave.

It can also be more everyday locations: a construction site, the sewer, a malfunctioning bathroom.

Meet the Monster

When describing the threat, spread out your descriptions so that (1) the scene has constant action (2) you have material to build up later.

Good details to show:

hands, fingers, nails, talons, claws

the sound of the voice, growl, roar

the smile, teeth

the texture of skin, fur, scales.

Get Visceral

Never tell your readers that the MC is scared. Describe the fright using these physical effects:

the skin crawling, breath stalling, scalp pricking, clenching of the chest, stomach curling, heart thudding, sweat tricking down, clogged throat, pulse in the ears, cold sweat, chills up/down the spine, stomach knotting, breathless, etc.

The Gory Bits

Instead of describing everything, limit yourself to particular details, keeping overall description short. Non-stop gore doesn't shock - its bores.

Create a contrast: the child's mutilated corpse still clutches the doll. The brains from the baby's plt skull spill across the fluffy pink blanket.

Use similes, comparing gruesome buts to something from ordinary life. The intestines look like spaghetti in tomato sauce. The blood spilling from the mouth looks like lipstick.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

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[tossawary]

The visible camp and sleeping setups in Baldur's Gate 3 make no sense for many reasons, but the one I'm focused on now is... where did all of this stuff COME from?

Presumably there's some in-universe explanation about fully furnished tents that you can summon or a magical bag or whatever, but I don't particularly care, honestly. Handwaving the exact mechanics in favor of fun fic ideas.

It doesn't make much sense for all of the characters to have even magical camping gear at the ready, especially at the beginning of the game: Lae'zel was part of a larger force and may not have been in charge of supplies in any fashion, and Astarion is a city boy. As far as I can remember and understand it, Gale and Shadowheart are the magical ones, and Shadowheart is the only one between them who was actually intentionally traveling on a quest. Wyll and Karlach having camping gear, yes, I buy that (although it easily could have been wrecked by or lost during all the shit that they've been through), but you also meet them both a little later than the others.

It is FAR funnier to me to imagine the party, post-crash at the beginning, being absolutely WRECKED. Everyone is covered in mind flayer ship slime, blood, and ash. Shadowheart's eyeliner is dripping down her face and there are guts in her hair. Astarion when you first meet him is a MESS who tried to fix himself up after tripping into a river. Lae'zel is missing half her clothes, perhaps, due to the fighting on the ship earlier, and she's making the awkwardness everyone else's problem.

They have no food (Lae'zel suggested cannibalism as a joke, but no one could tell that it was a joke) and one water skin. Their armor and weapons are damaged or stolen. Everyone is resigned to sleeping in the dirt, because the only other option is sharing Shadowheart's ONE single-person tent and bedroll between them all. A cuddle pile seems like a potentially deadly option.

And then they all meet Gale. And I know that he's Mr. Stay In My House For A Year Post-Break-Up, so he doesn't really seem like a camping guy, but it's really funny to me to imagine everyone being Not Very Happy to have Gale joining them (his robes are actually cleanish somehow, what the fuck, that's not fair, fucking wizards), until he starts summoning plush furniture and cooking pots out of some pocket dimension and heating water for people so they can wash their hair. And he COOKS. Holy shit. Everyone's favorite party member immediately.

Yes, it is revealed later on all of the (possibly dubiously real) tents and luxurious cushions and blankets and mirrors and atmospheric magical torches that Gale is summoning WERE all part of former magical romantic fuck-pads from his days with Mystra, so there is a non-zero chance that Gale fucked or got fucked by a goddess on every single piece of furniture in the camp. ("They're CLEAN!" Gale insists. "I WASHED THEM.") But at that point no one is willing to give up their throw pillows or sexy furs or the bathtub that could fit two people, so they all just live with it.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hurray 🎉 more asks!!

First off love-love your writing!

I'm not sure if you were the writer or if you've read the snippet. But there was one that I read where Captain Marvel gets de-aged into a child, a speaks an unrecognizable language child (like he was an actual adult not a kid pretending to be an adult). Everything is mostly fine until he asks for his parents and nobody knows who they are. Kid Marvel screams and a giant hole tears open and I assume the JL meets the Everlasting Trio.

I would love to see how you would continue something like this or write something of this nature.

Ironically, the champion of Magic was turned into a child with magic. It was one of those things that he was sure would be funny in a few years but not in the moment. Initially, Bruce had been horrified to see his teammate fall like that from the sky, his form shifting and changing into what could pass as a five-year-old right before his eyes.

The spell caster had unfortunately gotten away with a convenient portal, and they were left scrambling to catch Captain Marvel. There was also the issue of all the civilians that were displaced due to his rampage through the city of Fawcett City.

Bruce quickly worked to have Wayne Enterprise start funding the relief program for them, but it would take time, which was not something they had. He left it to Superman, Flash, and Wonder Woman to get everyone sorted—the three were the best at working with scared civilians.

In the meantime, he Zeta-beamed himself, and the small child Marvel had become up to the watch tower. The boy had been unconscious the entire time, which worried Bruce. After a few tests and scans with the medical staff, as well as his own studies, it was decided that besides being de-aged, there was nothing physically wrong with Marvel.

They would just have to wait till the Champian woke himself.

Bruce wondered how he would take his new form. In all the research he had done on Marvel and the legends of the Wizard, the champion had never been depicted as a child. He had assumed this was due to the champion repeating in various forms- sometimes female, sometimes male- but never as a child.

If anything, Bruce had discovered that they were always at peak physical age, usually from twenty-two to thirty-five. He had assumed this meant the reincarnation or the selection for the champion was just made that way.

How foolish to think they were never children that grew to that age before proclaiming themselves as Captain Marvel.

"Where am I?" a child's voice called, surprising Bruce from his files on Captain Marvel. Twisting around, he finds himself staring into the doe-blue eyes of Captain Marvel.

For a moment, he is reminded of his various children with similar coloring, and it pulls on Bruce's heartstrings to see the distress on that little face. He raises his hands, making sure his voice is softer than his usual growl. Bruce became the vengeance, so every child should feel safe with him after all.

"You're safe here." He reassures, watching the boy's face twist. He steps closer, portraying comfort but not reaching out to touch. "Do you recognize me?"

"Are you a ghost?" The boy's voice is low, slightly fearful. There is no hint of recognition in his posture, expression, or voice. Bruce bites back a swear.

So much for that hope. Still, his teammate needs him. "No, my name is Batman. A few hours ago, we were, in fact, together against a magic user. You were hit and turned into a child. Does any of this sound familiar?"

The boy grips his blanket, bringing it up to his chin, and stares at Bruce with growing distress. He shakes his head just as tears start to swell in his eyes. It's not good at all. "Where are my parents? I want to go home."

He filed that away, wondering if there were any parents to contact for Captain Marvel. He's been around for hundreds of years. If he had been selected as a human, the myths implied, then his parents would have likely been long gone.

Bruce wonders if there is any way he can conceive Captain Marvel coming to live in the Wayne manor until he is turned back. He could leave him to live in the Watch Tower, but he hates the idea of it just as he thinks it.

His face crumbles as Bruce tells him honestly, "I'm not sure where your parents are, chum."

Captain Marvel's tears fall to the bed as he curls up. Bruce reaches out to give him a hug, trying to comfort the distressed child. He is just about to assure him he is safe again, and Batman will help him when the child lets out an ear-piercing scream.

It's high pitch enough that Bruce can't tell if the ringing he hears is from the sound or if it's only in his ears. He opens his mouth to ask when a portal—unlike the one the magic user had cast—rips open in the room.

Out steps a man with snow-white hair. On instinct, Bruce gathers Marvel in his arms, flinging them to the corner and throwing a Batarang at the intruder. He shields the boy behind him, pushing him toward the wall and growling at the man.

His batarang is shot out of the air with some kind of green ray, as the man's eyes narrow.

A sound escapes the man. The structure and expression of the man indicate that it's obviously a language, but Bruce doesn't recognize it. He can tell that the man is angry, though, and that's not something he wants anywhere near Captain Marvel in his current state.

"Who are you!?" He demanded, raising more weapons. "How did you get in!?"

Oddly, Captain Marvel speaks, his words similar to the language the others use, and the white-haired man's face softens.

"You have my son," The man says in perfect English. Bruce raises a brow.

"Do you know him?" He whispers to the wiggling child.

"Yeah, that's one of my dads." The boy whispers back, sounding a lot calmer now that his apparent father is around. Bruce cautiously steps away, watching Marvel run straight into the arms of the stranger.

The man meets him halfway with a loud, excited chirp and purr, bringing the boy into his arms and squeezing him into a tight hug. Bruce watches every hint of body language, concluding he is not lying about being the boy's father.

"I'm sorry about the scare. It's been a long time since Billy used his distress call. I got a little worried." After a few minutes of chirps and purrs exchanged between parents and child, the man says. He raises his head to stare at Bruce with a regal air.

An aristocrat. Bruce's mind whispers, wondering where this noble hails form. Nowhere on earth with his glow or bright eyes. Was Captain Marvel half-human? "It's alright."

"I'm Danny Phantom," Danny tells him, flouting over with an outstretched hand that is not holding his son up. "It's an honor to meet you."

Bruce returns the handshake, keeping his voice and tone even. "Batman."

But inwardly, he swears up a storm. He knows that name and recognizes the legends and myths. Danny Phantom, the Ghost King, ruler of the connecting dimension of the muli-verse. It was one of the first beings he had encountered in his in-depth religious and culture studies, having seen the Ghost King be depicted throughout history even when he was lost in it.

One of the strongest beings to ever exist. Alongside, his wife and husband, who each ruled their own powerful area on the mortal plane- The Green that Posoisin Ivy and Swamp Thing gain their powers were said to be Samatha, the wife of the ghost King.

The meta gene—identified by the scientific community in recent years but proved to exist long before the first ancient Egyptians—was said to be a blessing from Tucker, the Husband of the ghost King. He was the one who appointed the first pharaohs, destroying the meta gene through their bloodline.

And Captain Marvel was their child.

No wonder the man was the champion of Magic. Who else was more qualified than the Heir to the Ghost King?

"It seems like a simple curse. It should reverse on its own," King Phantom comments while continuously turning his child this way and that, making the boy giggle. "It will wear off in only ten years."

Bruce wondered if he knew that was a very long time for humans. But what was a decade to a god?

"Batman was it?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Call me Danny. I was thinking, since Billy will be stuck like this for ten years, maybe my family should go on vacation while he recovers." Bruce does not like the sound of this, but he can't deny the king's action as a bright light overcomes the glowing figure, and a regular-looking human is left in its wake.

"I'll call my husband and wife. Do you know if any properties are for sale in your neighborhood? I want Billy to be close to his work friends."

Bruce was right. He did not like this one bit. Should he risk war with the Infinite Realms to keep them out of Gotham? The answer was no, unfortunately, and he could try to push the family to move to Metropolis so they can be Clark's problem, but he knows that lying to higher beings is never a smart thing.

He sighs, tapping his wrist computer. "I know a realtor."

[hollowdeath]

Thank god, another Harry Potter lover! 👓⚡️He really deserves more love! ❤️ That’s why I imagine him and the reader settling in a cottage by the sea or lake (you decide) to heal from the Wizarding War. They find comfort and solace in each other, and yes that includes countless lovemaking. 🥰 It’s just the two of them, so they’re free to express their love whenever and wherever they want. They especially enjoy making love on the shore under the stars after a swim, by the fireplace on a soft blanket, and in the bathtub surrounded by candles. They just need to feel and hold each other to remind themselves that everything’s okay now. You can do whatever you want with this, I just wanted to put it out there. Take care!

thank you so much for this request, i fell in love with it as soon as you sent it! i hope you enjoy!

pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader (18+)

summary: you & harry have moved away from everything & everyone to a remote cottage where the forest meets the sea. all harry wants after everything he's been through is to find peace, & he finds it in you.

c/w: smut!!! oral sex, penetration, rough sex

word count: 7.3k

harry was up early. he was watching the kettle boil on the gas stove in front of him, enjoying the warmth coming off of it, letting himself relax for just a moment. the steam from the water enveloped his face and felt nice. it was so chilly this morning. the windows were fogged over from the fire raving inside the stove, the wind whistling through the walls of the cottage.

the cottage was beautiful, harry couldn't deny it, though he could do with a bit more insulation. the raw, exposed stone walls were charming, and the moss and vines growing on the outside were something out of a fairy tale, but the fire needed to be fed every hour or so most of the day for at least half of the year or else it dropped below freezing inside. however, luckily, harry came to find wood chopping and trimming to be extremely therapeutic. just him, a sharp ax, and acres of woodlands to explore.

that was another thing harry could never deny about this property: the land was worth every penny. it's not often you find such a stunning cottage sitting on the border between a local forest and, what was essentially, a private beach on the north sea. the beach stretched at least a mile, but was obscured by the trees just behind the cottage. the land wasn't cheap, but harry was ready and extremely eager to spend whatever it took to finally get away from everything, live a simple life, and be alone.

alone with you, that is.

you and harry had gone to school together until the war, but eventually ended up reconnecting and began casually dating just over 2 years ago. since then you and harry had found complete solace in each other, both suffering from the negative side effects of witnessing and experiencing the war firsthand and supporting each other through difficult times. you were mostly struggling with paranoia and anxiety, and were actually the first to suggest getting a place together away from everyone else. you thought it would help if you were out of reach, isolated from the world, practically invisible from all danger.

harry, of course, was utterly haunted by the events of the war, and everything leading up to it. he gets angry at the world, has bouts of depression, deals with monumental grief and guilt, and has chronic, clinical sleep issues caused by nightmares. which is, ironically, the exact reason he's awake so early right now.

as he's pouring the boiling water out of the kettle and over a tea bag, harry can feel his eyelids fighting to stay open. he's barely slept this week, and he's starting to feel the effects of it. he's lightheaded, detached, and just wants to rest.

as he's walking to the front porch, mug in hand, harry takes a moment to pause in the doorway of your master bedroom and admire you. sleeping, surrounded by white cotton comforters, drowning in pillows, your hair wildly framing your peaceful face. he just stays there for a while, leaning against the doorframe, watching. he often watches you sleep when he can't himself. it brings him relief knowing you can get the rest you need.

before he heads outside harry slips on his favorite quarter zip. as he's sitting on the stairs outside, he admires the sound of the waves crashing just a few hundred or so yards away from him. he finishes his hot cup of tea, closes his eyes and lets himself sit in the cold waves of the wind. it's nice. like sleeping without the nightmares.

the moment is short lived as he hears the door creak open behind him. he looks back, and is in disbelief at how beautiful you look just waking up. a nightdress that barely covers anything at all draping around your shoulders, messy bed hair, sleepy eyes and a smile as you stand with the door cracked open, admiring harry in return.

"morning," you say simply, your voice still soft and hoarse from sleeping. harry smiles at you with soft and loving eyes. you walk towards him and let the door close behind you as you cuddle up next to harry on the stairs.

you don't seem to mind the chill in the air. your exposed skin is still hot from the fire burning inside. you lean your head on harry's shoulder, reaching for his mug, seeing there's nothing left, and leaving the mug in his hands. harry's chest hums as he chuckles. "would you like some? kettle's still warm," he asks.

you shake your head. you want to stay right here with harry in this moment.

the sea is so beautiful at this time of the morning. the sun was up, but only just barely above the horizon. no clouds, no birds, just the waves and the wind carrying their breeze.

speaking of breeze, you begin to shiver the longer you're out there in only a sleep dress. you still want to stay with harry, enjoying the view with him, but he notices you shaking.

"darling, let's get you inside,"

harry sits you in front of the stove and opens the small latch, letting the door stay open as you attempt to warm your hands. harry feeds the fire and rearranges the coals to make it burn hotter for you. after a minute or so, he also slips off his quarter zip and pulls it over your torso, smiling to himself at just how big it looks on you.

you find yourself finally starting to warm up, your toes burying themselves into the fur rug you're sitting on. after harry pours you a cup of tea, he joins you next to the fire. "thank you," you tell him with a smile, eagerly taking a sip of the warm drink.

harry's arm wraps around you and he watches the fire as you continue to sip your tea, enjoying the feeling of it warming you up from the inside.

you relish this moment with harry. since moving here barely a month ago, you've grown so fond of these smaller moments throughout the day with him. watching the scenery, watching the fire, sitting in comfortable silence, sharing a kettle of tea in the morning and afternoon, simply enjoying each other's company and the peace you've created for yourselves. it was one of your favorite parts about settling into this little slice of life.

and, of course, there was all the alone time.

while living with harry at grimmauld place was lovely, there was never truly a moment alone with him there. you had your own room with locked doors, but could hear someone walking, talking, cooking, always something in the background.

here, you were completely alone. a lot of people might find this situation to be even more terrifying, being so far away from everything, but you both agreed the isolation made you feel safer. safe from death eaters, safe from drama, safe from other people.

the safety from being so alone out here also meant that you and harry could be vulnerable with each other 24/7. you never had to put on a face or pretend things were okay if they weren't. if harry had nightmares, he could make some tea and enjoy a moment outside alone without anyone trying to psychoanalyze him. if you wanted to lay in bed until it was dark out again, harry wasn't going to judge you for it.

that vulnerability spread into other parts of your life as well.

you set your mug down next to the fire and turned towards harry who's already watching you as you admire his blue eyes, bloodshot from barely sleeping last night, or the night before. you take his face in your hands and just hold him for a moment, feeling him lean into your touch as his eyes flutter close. "i love you, harry," you say just above a whisper, breaking the comfortable silence.

harry looks up at you, but his eyes are now full of lust. you barely have a moment to process what's going on before harry leans in for a gentle, wanting kiss.

harry's always so soft with you despite his clearly strong desire. you've never been with someone who wanted you so bad no matter how many times you've been with them. everything with harry was like the first time all over again; the same desperation and desire to please that just never left.

the kiss quickly gets heated as harry pulls his quarter zip off of you, making you both giggle at the fact that he just put it on you only a few minutes prior. your lips reconnect in a haste, not wanting even a single second away from each other.

harry lays you down on the rug beneath you as his hands make their way to your exposed legs, feeling the heat from the fire on your thighs. his shirt quickly comes off as well from you tugging at it. a moan escapes your lips just watching his body as he pulls the shirt over his head.

harry's suffered from many injuries in these last few years that have left him littered in scars. and while you obviously hate to think about harry in pain, something about his scars drove you crazy with lust. a brave boy who faced death and came back, now healing far away from the cruel world with you as his lover. it was just another reminder that you were safe, that he was finally safe.

harry smiles as he goes in to kiss you again, his hands going right back to your thighs as he pushes your nightdress above your panties. you're holding his face lovingly but harry pulls away from the kiss to look at you. he watches your expression intently as he starts sliding his fingers over your panties, earning a sigh of relief from you. harry's eyes grow darker the longer he teases you. he sits up to use his other hand to hold down your bucking hips, causing you to whine in frustration.

"patience," harry commands from you in a stern voice. you look up at him, jaw lax, breathing uneven, and simply give him a nod.

you love this side of harry. of course you fell in love with the soft, gentle, careful parts of him first, but over time you saw more and more of his angry, controlling, dominant side during sex that you were completely weak for.

living at hogwarts and then grimmauld place right after, most of your intimate moments with harry were kept quiet to avoid being heard. soft whispering, quiet moans, slow movements, and breathless orgasms under a heavy blanket with the lights dimmed. once you moved here, away from everything and everyone, things were different.

of course, you were both still a bit quiet and shy at first, not used to having a place all to your own where no one can hear you for miles. but, slowly, you and harry learned to break old habits and started experimenting together. a lot.

it seemed like neither of you could ever get enough of each other since coming here. you'd always been really attracted to each other, maybe more than the average couple, but something about being alone together in this corner of the world where the forest meets the ocean made you feel so connected, so in tune, and completely and utterly obsessed with each other.

it started with long, drawn-out, foreplay-heavy love making in your new bed to "break it in", sometimes spending hours each day just entangled together on top of the sheets, admiring the other's body and exploring every part. then it would slowly move over to the bath, naturally, after spending so much time sweating together in bed. after a while the sessions would get shorter as you would both be completely exhausted afterwards. instead, they increased in frequency.

either you or harry would find little opportunities to sneak in a quick fuck throughout the day between chores, or would give the other person head as they made dinner in the kitchen. it was thrilling. neither of you had ever been sexual outside of the bedroom/bathroom before, but you found it completely erotic.

you had yet to have sex in front of the fire, oddly enough, but you had thought about it quite a few times before. the warmth of the stove, the soft rug beneath you, the light on harry's skin, the sweat dripping off of him…

"[y/n]," harry said, snapping you out of your daze. "are you even listening to me?" he asks with a smirk.

you blush immediately, so lost in your thoughts about the sex you were just about to have that you couldn't even focus on what was currently happening…

"s-sorry…" you mumble. "you just drive me crazy," you admit shyly.

harry's hand pushes further into your hips, a groan crawling out of his throat as he glares at you. "don't make me cum already, darling," he growls, his voice deep and rumbling in his chest.

you whimper under his pressure, your back arching as your body attempts to find some kind of release from the growing tension inside of you.

"so fucking desperate already," harry says, clearly enjoying watching you struggle under his control. "if i could resist you even a little bit i would sit here and watch you struggle all day," he tells you as he leans into your neck, his teeth sinking into your skin. you wince and squeal, your heart racing from the pain.

harry smirks at your reaction. he sits up and releases the pressure on your hips, causing them to buck upwards instinctively. a pathetic "please," is all you're able to muster as you attempt to catch your breath.

normally harry wants to hear you do a lot more begging than that, but he's just as desperate as you are at this point and he can't resist you much longer.

harry props your legs up for him after helping you take off your panties, throwing them to the side as he lays between your thighs. you prop yourself up on your elbows to look down at harry who's hungrily looking between your eyes and your pussy. your breathing is rapid and shallow as your heart continues to thump in your chest. even after all these years and all the times you've seen harry between your legs you just never get used to the sight. he still gives you butterflies like a nervous girl with a crush.

your head rolls in pleasure as harry starts kissing your thighs; even in both of your desperate states, even when he's at his most dominant, he's still the gentle, loving harry you're so in love with.

harry's hands find your own and intertwine your fingers together as his tongue begins exploring your pussy. you can feel yourself getting even more wet as harry's mouth attaches itself to you, enjoying how you taste. moaning, whining, hips bucking onto harry's tongue, you start to feel yourself sweat from both the fire and harry's intense gaze up at you.

"f-fuck," you cry, your thighs instinctively squeezing around harry's head. he can't help but moan as he sucks on your clit, practically letting you ride his face.

you reach for your silky nightdress and lift it above your chest, exposing your nipples to the warmth of the fire as you continue watching harry make your legs tremble.

harry's eyes droop in pleasure. one of his hands grabs for your tits and the other applies the same pressure to your hips as before. you let out your first real moan above a whimper, your hips still trying to grind against harry's mouth as he continues pushing you further into the rug.

his tongue's now inside of you, teasing you as you clench around him, your thighs still quivering.

"harry, harry, please," you say breathlessly, begging for more. harry ignores you, instead only going slower to drive you mad. you groan in frustration. he looks back up at you for only a second, but you can see the smirk in his eyes.

his hand lets go of your tits before making its way to your thighs, pushing them away from his head as harry takes a moment to breathe. you're blushing, completely flustered, eyes half-open. "sorry," you apologize.

"don't be. give me more." harry demands.

his hand pushes further into your pelvis, his elbow holding down your thigh as you wince at the pressure.

harry's mouth returns to your clit as his fingers feel how wet you are for him. your body jolts at the sensation, but harry just holds you down tighter. starting with one finger, harry pushes inside you slowly as you writhe under his grasp. your hands get tangled in his hair again, desperately pulling his face further into your pussy.

harry just chuckles, looking up at you as he slowly pushes another finger inside you. you gasp, your grip in his hair tightening as your other hand plays with your tits. just the look in harry's eyes watching you chase your high is enough to bring you close to the edge.

harry's fingers were pumping in and out of your pussy, his lips and tongue still teasing your clit. your thighs threatened to close again, but harry kept them spread open for himself. "enough," he states, planting his elbows into your thighs and his hand against your pelvis. he glares up at you as he repositions himself. "stay."

you can feel your body react to the aggression in his voice. this is the hungriest, and hottest, side of harry you've ever seen. you're already brought back to the brink of orgasm as soon as you can see harry's fingers pumping inside you again, his wrist and forearm veins pronounced against the light of the fire as he picks up his speed.

the moans coming out of your mouth are filthy and involuntary, your mind going blank at the sudden rush of pleasure through your body. once harry's tongue begins circling your clit again, you don't have a chance at lasting much longer.

"i-i, harry, stop, i'm–" is all you're able to get out before your legs begin shaking, your head thrown back, crying out in overwhelming pleasure. it feels so good not having to hold back your moans anymore.

harry's lips detach from you, swollen, covered in your wetness. his fingers continue thrusting into you, gently now as you ride out your high. he slowly removes them after a moment, his hand and elbows relieving the pressure that kept you pinned to the ground.

you're still whining, your legs aching from struggling against harry's weight. they feel impossibly heavy as you try to bend your knees up. harry just watches you, enjoying the aftermath of his work.

you're still seeing stars by the time harry's pants have come off, his cock barely peeking through the front of his boxers. he starts rubbing himself through the fabric, his breathing becoming labored as you watched him in a daze.

you look up at him innocently through your eyelashes, your mouth slightly ajar as you lean your weight to one elbow, using the other hand to take his place. he lets you take over, slowly stroking his erection through his boxers, enjoying his gaze down at you from above. his hand goes to your cheek, softly tracing the curve of your smile.

his fingers delicately open your lips before roughly shoving them into your mouth. you make a surprised noise, but quickly begin sucking and licking his fingers. he pulls his boxers down with the other hand, and uses your spit to lube himself up. you lick your own fingers and do the same, helping guide his cock into you with a groan of both pleasure and discomfort.

harry gradually thrusts into you, letting you adjust to him, taking his time with you. he watches your aching pussy welcome his cock eagerly, your legs already starting to tremble from the pressure building inside you again. "oh, fuck," harry's voice cracks, his hands gripping your thighs as they continue to involuntarily shake.

a hand flies to your mouth, barely able to contain yourself already. seeing harry's face of relief as his cock slides all the way inside you only makes you clench around him tighter. he lets out a struggled breath, his grip on your thighs only tightening as he spread them open for himself again.

harry's eyes are closed in bliss, his thrusts slow but deep, forcing a whine from your throat each time he's completely inside you. he's starting to sweat, his hair hanging loosely around his forehead, arms flexed to keep his grip on you, his body leaning down into yours as he starts picking up his pace.

harry looks down at you. one of his hands grabs the hand covering your mouth. "let me hear you, angel," he speaks gently but his voice is hungry, immediately earning a soft moan from your lips. he smiles, leaning down to kiss you sloppily.

harry takes this time to really pick up his speed, adjusting his position to roughly thrust himself into your throbbing pussy. his hands grab for the back of your knees, forcing your legs to bend back as he only pushes himself into you more.

"oh my god," you gasp into harry's kiss, your hands wrapping around his shoulders to steady yourself. harry's forehead rests against yours, looking down, glasses fogged up from the heavy breathing and heat from the fire. he's watching himself from your angle, slowing down his thrusting to a torturous pace. you both groan at the feeling and sight of harry pushing his cock completely inside you and slowly pulling back out before thrusting into you again.

"fuck, baby, you take my cock so well, feel so fucking good," harry says breathlessly into your ear.  your nails dig into his shoulders as you try not to cum again already just from harry's voice. you're both sweating, faces pressed together, the fire slightly dying beside you but still creating a warm glow.

"y-you're, mmph, i'm so close, again," you cry, letting yourself rest back on the soft rug. you feel so at peace despite the growing tension in your stomach – watching harry prop himself up with one hand on the ground beside you and the other still holding your leg back, his chest heaving as he continues thrusting inside you with a growing pace.

harry looks at your twisted expression, eyes glossed over and cheeks flushed, your tits bouncing as he roughly uses your body for his pleasure.

"yeah?" harry looks at you, his grip on your leg tightening as he fucks you roughy into the rug. "fucking cum for me," he commands from you.

you barely need his permission before you're already over the edge, legs uncontrollably shaking, eyes rolling back, incoherent words getting lost in your broken moans and cries of pain.

it's all harry needs before he feels himself release inside you, still thrusting into you slowly as his cum spills out of your pussy.

your body is shaking from the sensation, your legs still vibrating as you clench around harry's cock. he struggled to finally pull out of you.

still trying to catch his breath, harry lovingly rubs your thighs as he watches your swollen pussy ache for the feeling of his cock again.

"so fucking beautiful, my love," harry sighs, relaxing his body on top of yours, his head in your neck. "my beautiful, beautiful girl," he repeats, covering you in kisses as he showers you with compliments.

you just giggle at him, exhausted, trying to come back down to earth.

"i can't…move," you mumble between breaths, your eyes drooping closed as your feet touch back down on the rug. you feel even more weak than before.

harry hums, kissing your forehead. "it's okay, i've got you, darling," he says with a warm smile.

he stands up, slowly, but isn't in as much pain as he expected. his knees are sore for sure, but otherwise, he couldn't feel better.

he leans down to help you sit up, guiding your body into his arms as he picks you up bridal style, your head resting in his chest. you giggle again but you're too weak to reject the gesture. he carefully carries you to the bathroom just down the hall from the living room.

harry runs you both a warm bath as you watch from the counter. he's still naked, as are you, but it's not awkward or sexual – it's just natural.

he shuts the water off and reaches for you once again. "i'm okay now," you insist, standing from the counter and steadying yourself with his hands. he still helps you walk to the tub before helping you climb inside. the water's extremely hot, but it feels so nice on your sweaty, aching skin.

"i'll be right back, gotta feed the fire, just wait for me, yeah?" harry says before he dips out of the bathroom.

looking around you as you warm the rest of your body with the water, you notice the candles sitting around the tub from the last time you both took a bath together. just the flash of the memory through your brain is enough to make your stomach twist into knots again. harry had you bent over the side of the tub as water splashed everywhere, the feeling of freedom and carelessness intoxicating you both as you cared about nothing but each other's highs.

with a flick of your wet hand, you light all the candles again, and the room is lit with a warm glow. it's not often you use magic anymore, harry prefers to do things manually now that you're both caring for a piece of land, but the convenience of certain spells are too useful to forget completely.

walking back in, harry smirks at all the candles being lit. he admires you for a moment, naked, sweaty, half submerged in the huge clawfoot bathtub surrounded by the glow of the candles. "trying to insinuate something, love?" harry asks, closing the bathroom door behind him.

you blush, curling your knees into your chest. "just thought it'd be nice to have some light," you say softly.

harry grabs you both towels and sets them next to the tub before climbing in himself. he positions himself behind you, holding your body as he guides you to relax into his chest. once you laid your head back, you and harry sat in comfortable, warm silence for a long while.

it takes a few minutes before harry's hands begin rubbing at your stomach, slowly, making ripples throughout the water as you lower your knees, letting harry comfort you. he's humming softly, your head rumbling in his chest. he rests his head next to your own and watches his hands from your perspective.

his rubbing gets further and further down your stomach, running his hands along your waist and hips before finally grabbing at your inner thighs roughly. you let out a pathetic whimper, watching his hands from above the water.

"is it bad that i already need you again?" harry chuckles, half joking but half already turned on. you shake your head quickly, your hips thrusting up for relief, moaning at his words. "no, need you, please," you respond desperately, looking over at him.

harry's eyes are darker once more, watching as his hands gradually move to your sensitive pussy. you groan in response, but harry quickly kisses you to cover it. "i know, baby, just let me take care of it," he says into your lips.

slowly circling your clit with soft fingers, harry watches as your eyes droop more and more from the building pleasure. eventually his fingers are back inside of you, gently pumping in and out. his head turns back to your body as he watches you react to him. his other hand goes for your tits, grabbing one roughly from just above the surface of the water.

while it feels good being teased you're insanely desperate for harry once again. your hand reaches behind you, feeling harry's growing erection against your back. harry's grip on you tightens as your hand starts stroking his cock slowly under the water.

"fucking dirty girl," he groans under his breath, taking his fingers out of your pussy to continue rubbing your clit. you cry out at the loss of feeling, your hand squeezing around harry as he just enjoys the feeling.

soon, harry's moved your hips to align with his, your arms holding your body up on either side of the tub as you slowly insert harry back inside your pussy once again. the familiar feeling is only enhanced by being underwater, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease as you adjust to the feeling.

"oh my god," you sigh, your stomach already tightening, thighs still a bit shaky. harry's guiding your hips expertly, groaning in pleasure watching your ass dip in and out of the water onto his lap. his head is resting against the edge of the tub, mind blank, solely focused on your pleasure and his.

"fuck, harry," you whimper again, rolling your hips around on his cock before thrusting it inside you again. harry wishes you could see just how sexy you look from this angle, your hair flowing down your back, your skin glistening in the candlelight, the water droplets running down your hips, it's enough to make him resist the urge to finish already.

"you're so perfect," harry groans. he smacks your ass, slapping the water with it, causing you to squeal and quicken your pace. the same filthy moans are still spilling from your mouth, hardly able to contain yourself in this situation. something about using the time meant to help each other clean up to only continue fucking makes you feel so dirty, so used, and it's driving you crazy.

harry suddenly stops you, much to your disappointment, and tells you to trust him. "just get out and stand up," he says.

you do as he says, and eventually harry has you bent over the bathroom counter, barely lit by the candles behind you. he slowly returns his cock inside of you, your bodies dripping water everywhere.

as harry's thrusts become more consistent, one hand grabs for your shoulder and the other for your damp hair. he forces your face to look in the mirror, your eyes barely open from the pleasure. "watch," he commands. your eyes shot open at his voice, tracing the shape of your shadows in the mirror in front of your face.

harry loses himself in you, his head rolling back in pleasure hearing you struggle to take his cock for a second time. you're trying to moan, say anything at all, but your voice is incomprehensible as harry only becomes rougher with you.

"god damn it, [y/n]," harry spits out, his voice clearly exhausted. his hands travel back to your tits, pulling you back up into him as he continues pounding into you from behind. you're a mess in his hands as they roughly grope your tits.

"look at you," harry growls into your neck, looking into the mirror just in front of you as his gaze meets yours. "so fucking sexy,"

your hands desperately grip the edge of the counter for balance, your legs getting more and more weak by the second. harry pushes you further over the counter, his moans becoming urgent.

"i'm gonna fill you up because you're fucking mine, yeah? look at this perfect body of yours," harry's voice strains, his sweaty chest against your back as he forces you to continue watching yourself get pounded in the mirror, one arm over your chest and the other holding your hips. the light of the candles is just enough to let you see harry's dark expression. "fucking perfect, just for me,"

you haven't been able to get a single word out, your mind spinning as harry only gets more and more desperate, his pace getting sloppy.

"fuck, baby, just be good for me and let me cum inside your tight little pussy, hm? let me show you what's mine,"

you're already starting to cum just from harry's words. the overwhelming pleasure racks your body harshly as harry continues to use you for himself. shaking, barely able to stand without his help, your voice is breaking as you cry out in ecstasy for the third time just this morning.

harry's barely able to last much longer. his thrusts have slowed to uneven, jerky motion as he feels his cum spilling deep inside you. breathy moans and aching bodies, harry rests against you with your body limp against the counter. he lifts his head from your neck to kiss your skin softly, everywhere, slowly helping guide you back to the tub for a second time. your legs are weaker than before and you're barely able to contribute as harry leans you into the water, still kissing your damp skin.

"i love you, i love you," he's mumbling between kisses.

you're too weak and dizzy to respond in any way, still trying to catch your breath as harry begins cleaning your skin. he rubs a soft rag along your chest, neck, back, shoulders, and arms. the whole time he's complimenting you lovingly, a gentle touch and warm gaze upon your tired face.

after washing himself, harry also dries you off, carrying you back to bed before getting you both dressed in comfortable, warm pajamas. "just rest for today, my love," he told you as he laid you down. you reach for his hands. "stay?"

harry smiles. you didn't have to ask, it was literally his bed too, but he admires how soft and innocent you are in this moment. though he loves to be rough with you like he just was, there's nothing more special in the world to him than the gentleness between you two. his whole life has been nothing but challenges, setbacks, problems, and you're everything but. he just wants to be soft and gentle with you.

harry climbs under the sheets, his body also succumbing to the ache and exhaustion. he wraps himself around you, already falling asleep against his chest. harry joins not long after, finally getting his much needed sleep without the threat of his nightmares.

a few weeks later it's just a bit warmer out than it has been, so you and harry immediately started the day doing outdoor chores while you could. harry was chopping wood as you cleaned up around the cottage garden. it was too cold most of the year to grow much of anything out of it, but you still liked to keep it manageable for the smaller animals that stopped by to look around.

you also took the time to admire harry, shirtless, sweaty, groaning each time he drops the ax into another cut of firewood. his body had become well built from all the manual labor he's been doing lately, carrying entire trunks or stumps of trees out of the forest, lifting heavy bags of mulch and dirt for you, digging out the flower bed around the cottage, he was more muscular and toned than you'd ever seen him. it never mattered what harry's body looked like to you, you always found him attractive no matter what, but you couldn't deny that his toned back and broad shoulders got you more worked up than usual lately.

it was nice getting to work on the home with each other, a comfortable silence filling the day broken by the occasional question, favor, kiss, or compliment. it was peaceful, this routine you both had, and it felt so natural to work with each other. you hardly had to communicate your ideas because you were often thinking the same things.

tea in the morning, chores once the sun is out, taking a dip in the ocean at sunset, and having a warm home cooked dinner in the dark, the cottage lit from within from candles and the fireplace. it was perfect. for both of you.

and, of course, the sex had never slowed down as well.

you had both joked at the beginning of your move that you didn't think you could ever stop yourselves now that you were isolated from the world, but that's exactly what ended up happening. neither of your desires could be relieved no matter how many times you tried. not that you wanted them to go away by any means, it was just overwhelming, the feral need to spend hours each day pleasuring each other in every way possible. it was always passionate and desperate for more, never becoming repetitive or any less exciting. it was exactly what you both needed and wanted all the time.

as the sun was setting for the day, you and harry sat together and shared an orange you had gotten at the market just a few miles away earlier that week. you were lucky to be close enough to something that offered fresh produce, even in the colder parts of the year. harry watched the waves crashing against the sand, his knees to his chest as you both steady yourself on a large rock between the cottage and the water.

"thank you," harry says softly. you look over at him, his hands now empty as he's swallowing the last of his orange slices. you finish yours as well. "of course," you respond.

harry shakes his head. "no. really. thank you, [y/n], for everything." he says, still watching the sea. you blush, giving him a soft smile before turning to watch it as well. "i'm finally, really, truly happy. for the first time in my life, i feel at peace." harry explains, still speaking softly just over the crashing waves.

you could cry just from harry's words. all you've ever wanted was for him to feel safe. he's had such a difficult start in life and didn't deserve what happened to him, or what he was forced to do. he deserved simplicity. a normal life in a normal home doing normal chores. he deserved to be happy.

overcome with love, you stand from the rock and grab harry's hand, pulling him with you. he silently follows you down the beach. once you're a few yards away from the shore, you pull down the straps of the dress you had been working in off your shoulders, letting the material slide right off your body and onto the sand as you continue heading towards the water.

you turn to look at harry, and he's stunned at how beautiful you are. the shape of your body against the warm sunset over the water, nothing but a pair of panties covering your sweaty skin. your hair was flowing in the salty breeze of the ocean, hands reaching for his as your feet began to touch the water.

harry's ripped and dirty blue jeans come off as well as his glasses, leaving them behind on the sand as he grabs for your hand. you walk into the water together, slightly shivering from the lingering chill beneath the warm surface, but quickly adjusting to the temperature. harry's only admiring you, like he always does, as you dip your head under the water and come up, pushing the hair out of your face.

harry does the same, wiping his face of the sweat and dirt that's collected over the work day with the salty water. this has become one of his favorite parts of your routine together, cooling off in the ocean after a long day. not just to wash off the sweat and stress of the day, but also to admire you in all your glory under the shining sun.

harry wastes no time reaching for you, pulling you into him as you float in his grasp. he holds you for a moment, mesmerized by the light in your eyes, a smile permanently fixed on his face. "my beautiful girl," he reminds you, his forehead leaning against yours. you hum, reaching your hands to his neck as you pull him in for a heated kiss.

you've had sex in the ocean a few times now, and it's quickly become one of your favorites. it's the ultimate form of freedom being naked together making love in the gentle waves, harry holding you around his waist as he hugs your body into his.

most nights you're both too tired from working to go further than sloppy making out and feeling each other up; but other nights, like tonight, you're both too desperate to care if it hurts.

as harry continues kissing you he carries you back to the shore, your legs still around his waist as he lays you down onto the sand. the water just barely washes over harry's legs as it meets the shoreline. you relax into the warm sand beneath you, harry already pulling your panties off. you giggle at his eagerness. he smirks, his hands gripping your waist hungrily.

you can see harry's erection through his soaking wet boxers barely hanging off his hips. just as eagerly, you pull them down for him as he kicks them to the side.

harry easily slides his cock inside of you, letting out a struggled sigh of relief at the feeling. no matter what's going on around him, harry will always feel perfectly in place when he's inside of you.

your hands are tangled in his wet hair, gripping tighter as he bottoms out. he moans desperately, leaning in for another kiss. his pace evens out to a familiar rhythm, your body wrapping around him as he fucks you into the wet sand. the warm sunset is perfectly met with the chilly breeze of the water that's still waving over both of you gently. each time it gives you shivers, your body arching into harry's from the shocking feeling.

harry's not sure if he's ever wanted to finish this quickly before. it was so perfect, this moment, the sun, the waves, you. he just couldn't believe this was his life. making love to the most beautiful girl in the world where the land meets the sea. he never thought life could be this simple and beautiful, but with you it was effortless.

he pulled away from the kiss to simply look at you, eyes drooping, cheeks blushing, eyebrows pinched together in desperation. he smiled. "i love you," he says so simply, his thrusts beginning to stutter against you. you smile back, eyes still half open. "love you, harry, so much," you manage to say between heavy breaths.

you pull him back in for a kiss, and feel his body weaken on top of you, leaning on his elbows for support in the uneven sand. "baby, baby," he tries to warn you, but you just continue kissing him and wrap your legs back around his waist, pulling him deeper into your pussy.

he completely unravels, pumping his cum inside you as he cries against your lips. "fuck," he keeps groaning in a broken voice. you can feel yourself letting go as well, your thighs squeezing around harry's waist as the water crashes into your body again, making you shake even more.

you both enjoy the moments after your climaxes together, letting the water continue to run over you as the sun's light falls below the horizon. harry, still inside you, his body resting on top of yours, tells you he loves you in the softest, sleepiest voice he can manage.

you kiss his head, reminding him how much you love him.

you both eventually sit up, covered in sand, and chuckle to each other about it. harry invites you back into the water where he washes you off, giving you a loving kiss under the dim sky.

he continues holding you there in the gentle waves, the emerging stars lighting the sky above you. he's a bit cold now, but he couldn't be more warm inside. harry just loves you and the little life you've built with him here on the sea. he feels happy, loved, and completely at peace in the ocean with you in his arms.

[tarottaleteller]

*Disclaimer: This reading is for fun and entertainment purposes only. It is in no way meant to act as or replace professional reading. Please take what resonates, leave what doesn't. All the pictures were taken from Pinterest. Heyy, I am very sorry for the delay, can't seem to time manage for some reason these days. This reading's topic is "When are you going to meet your next partner". Hope you enjoy! This is an 18+ reading! If you're a minor, please skip this post.

Pile 1

Pile 1, I see summer for you. Or definitely when the sun will be out and it will be warm enough to wear dresses. Most likely, it is going to be somewhere near nature. If you live in a city with the sea or any large body of water, then you might literally meet them at the beach. I see your future partner having bronze skin, lighter coloured hair and green/hazel-ish eyes. Their smile will be what you’re going to fall for, Pile 1. You’ll literally see them as the sun. Your relationship will be filled with inside jokes and lots of laughter. You guys might become each other’s besties first before getting into a relationship since one or both of you will have some anxiety or fears when it comes to dating, but with that partner it will all go away. Aww, I hear “You’re my safe place”. You could call them at 3AM with any problem and they will be happy and eager to help. I’m getting a scene where the girl is sick and the guy wraps a blanket around her and lovingly hugs her saying how cute she is even when she’s sick. Very healthy vibes here. Even if you’re not going to last, this relationship will help you grow confident and you will be forever grateful for that partner. This is such a soft, loving energy. I’m so happy for you, Pile 1!

Pile 2

Wow, Pile 2. The very first thing I got for your pile is “LOTS of sex”. I feel like your future partner will have a very high libido and will just generally find you super attractive. Physically, you will be their absolute ideal type. And it’s like they will always want to have a hand around you somehow because they just love your body a lot. Regarding timing, I keep getting fall, I see yellow leaves on the trees. I think you’ll meet them at some sort of party or gathering. Even if you go to a bar with a friend, that also counts. Basically a place where people have fun. If generally you struggle with self-esteem or finding yourself sexually attractive, this partner will definitely massively help with that. You will feel like the hottest girl in the room alwaysss. I’m not gonna lie, Pile 2, I don’t really see any serious intentions from this partner, but they also won’t deny it. Like you will know that it’s mostly physical and perhaps some fun dates here and there, but that’s about it. Although I feel like you will accept it and be ok with it because you will also find them very good looking. Hope you enjoyed your reading, Pile 2!

Pile 3

Now, this is my depressed pile. I am getting a lot of loneliness and sadness. I’m so sorry, Pile 3. Whatever you’re going through right now, please just remember that there’s always a rainbow after the storm. The Universe is insinuating that you have to deal with your depression/anxiety first, because otherwise you won’t be able to find healthy relationships. I know it sounds cliche, but you should fall in love with yourself first. I understand that it can be very tricky, but you can write down all of your achievements in life (earning 50 cents by selling lemonade as a kid counts!), all your little and big wins. We all have them! Watch some creators like Wizard Liz to boost up your confidence (I do it all the time!). Start eating healthy foods, take care of your body. Do for yourself whatever you would do for your partner. It will help you, I promise. Soon enough, you’ll start to realize how powerful and great you are, and that’s when your future bf/gf will find you. And guess what? They’ll love the hell out of you, because they’ll see how much you had to go through and how gracefully you overcame your battles and how kind and loving you are in spite of all that. You’re truly beautiful souls, my Pile 3. I promise, love will find you at the right time when you will feel ready. And you will feel ready when you will start loving and appreciating yourself, your body, and your heart just as much as your partner’s. I believe in you, Pile 3!!!

Pile 4

I’m getting some mixed vibes here, Pile 4. You’re meeting your next partner very soon, within a few weeks literally. Your future partner is gorgeous, Pile 4. They might literally take your breath away when you first see them. Hollywood actor type of look. However, I just want to warn you that this partner might have some deep traumas that they refuse to acknowledge that might lead them to be closed down and be easily irritable. It’s like they will actually be a softie inside, but because of their past (feels like a dysfunctional family environment) they might pull up this idgaf persona that will push people away. It's weird because I see that you will know and sense that very well and will try to break through that facade, but your future partner just won’t let you, even though they realize you have the best of intentions. Honestly, this is kind of toxic. The relationship will feel one-sided and it will seem like you’re the one initiating everything. You might stay with them for a few months but then you will face the truth that if they don’t want to heal, nobody else can do it for them. It kind of reminds me of the “After” series, but less dramatic. They will definitely like you and deep inside they will feel super guilty to be treating you like this. That also could be the reason why they don’t want to get too close to you. They care about you and they understand that you deserve better. They’re not a bad person, they are just not ready to face the traumas yet. Honestly, Pile 4, I do not recommend you to get into a relationship with this person, maybe just stay friends until they heal. 

Sorry that some of the piles were negative, but these are the messages I got and I just want to be honest with you guys. Sending love to all of you!! 

[starlight-sev]

Nothing’s Out to Get You (Post War!Snape x Reader)

Just because there’s peace outside now that the war’s over doesn’t mean there’s always peace inside.

Warnings: themes of ptsd and trauma. This is more of a comfort fic for these issues but please be aware these themes are brought up a few times throughout ❤️

A/N: i found this bone-chilling cover of The Bug Collector and my mind wandered. This is what came out of it. Enjoy 💕

Recovering from the war wasn’t easy.

Perhaps that was why you convinced Severus to move in with you. It was better to heal together than face your demons alone.

You had volunteered to bring him home after he was discharged from St. Mungo’s. You went in, expecting to have to fight your case for hours to get him to agree. To your surprise, as soon as the dreaded question left your lips, Severus nodded. Eagerly, even, which made your heart sink a little. After all, you seemed to be one of the only professors at Hogwarts that still respected him. You were one of the only people who knew the truth.

Harry hadn’t told the wizarding world the truth about Severus yet. You figured it would be a while before his real story came out.

You couldn’t let him fend for himself with the wounds he had. They only discharged him because he was no longer in critical condition, in order to make more room for other wizards that needed healing. Severus still had a long way to go in his own healing process. You wouldn’t have been able to live with yourself if something had happened to him while he was living alone, especially after having escaped death so narrowly.

He needed a friend by his side, and although you didn’t want to admit it openly, you did too.

You didn’t escape the war unharmed, either. A near miss with a Death Eater’s curse resulted in a steady tremble of your right hand. The nerves had been damaged, and no healer had been able to find a remedy strong enough to stop the trembling for good. Sometimes the shooting pain would be strong enough to wake you from your sleep, but you were beginning to manage. It was the only choice you had, really.

It had only been two months since the battle at Hogwarts, yet it felt as though you had aged fifteen years. With Severus being at your home, it made the days slightly more bearable.

The two of you existed as shadows in your home, orbiting each other in almost complete silence for most of the day. It was a stark contrast to how both of you behaved together at Hogwarts, often meeting on Friday nights to share a pot of tea and complain about that week’s troublemakers. You were the only one who could coax a smile out of Severus Snape.

Now, you couldn’t remember the last time either of you had smiled.

There’s a centipede, naked in your bedroom.

And you swear to god, the fucker’s out to get you.

You can still remember the way your blood ran cold the first time it happened.

Severus had been sleeping on your couch while you were in the process of cleaning out your office to turn into his new room. You woke in the middle of the night to a muffled sound. At first you thought it was a stray cat outside, but after a moment of rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you heard it again.

It was a scream, loud enough to travel down the hall and through the closed door of your bedroom clearly.

Severus.

You threw the covers off, wincing as the abrupt motion sent a tiny shockwave through your hand. Throwing open your door, you raced down the hall to the living room. Your heart pounded as you fumbled for the small lamp by the coffee table, and you tried your best to ignore the images that played through your mind of that night you found Severus in the Shrieking Shack.

Severus lay curled up on your couch, his hands tightened into fists as he clutched the blanket around him. He was whimpering loudly, and from the dull light of the lamp, you could see he was sweating profusely. Your heart relaxed only slightly as you cast a worried glance to the bandages on his neck but luckily found them clean.

“Hey,” you whispered cautiously, kneeling down and resting your hands against the seat of the couch. “Sev. Wake up.”

You reached to touch him, but then froze, your trembling hand inches from his shoulder. You didn’t want to startle him awake and accidentally hurt him in the process.

“Severus,” you repeated, a little louder this time. “Wake up. Wake up!”

You tried your best to ignore how your voice trembles as it caught in your throat.

Severus woke with a gasp. His dark eyes shot open, but they were distant, foggy almost. He was still too far lost in his nightmare to focus on you.

You took a chance, inching forward to check if he was okay. As your hand touched his own, he hissed sharply and drew back, trembling despite the warmth radiating through your home.

“It’s me,” you managed to squeak out. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

Severus finally seemed to notice you sitting there at the edge of the couch. His gaze swept over you and you watched as he frowned, as if he was trying to remember where he was.

“You’re in my home,” you continued. “You… I heard you screaming. You were having a nightmare.”

His eyes widened, and before you could stop him, he reached up to touch his bandages in the exact spot where Nagini had attacked. Panic filled his eyes for a brief moment, then confusion. You reached forward and grabbed his wrist tightly, gently easing his hand back down to his lap.

“God…” Severus muttered, passing his free hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I…”

A muffled sob escaped him as he kept his hand pressed over his eyes. Without thinking twice, you leaned forward and drew him into you. You held him tightly, despite the pain that shot through your hand as you did so.

“You’re safe now,” you whispered. “Nothing can hurt you now. You’re awake. You’re safe.”

You felt your heart crack as Severus rested his forehead against your shoulder.

“I-I’m here.” You said slowly. You reached up to caress his hair softly, feeling tears of your own fill your eyes as Severus sobbed, clutching you desperately as if you’d disappear.

You never thought you’d see the stoic and unshakable man you’d worked with for so many years fall apart in your arms this way.

Then again, you never imagined any of this would ever happen.

After that night, the two of you agreed to sleep in the same room together. And then, when that still wasn’t enough, in the same bed. It seemed to be the only way that both of you could fall asleep and leave behind the lingering memories and fear of the war.

There’s a praying mantis, prancing on your bathtub.

And you swear he’s a priest from a past life, come to get you.

The second time the war came back to haunt your home, it came after you.

You were in the kitchen drying dishes. A storm raged outside, but it didn’t bother you. You had grown to like the sound of thunder over the years you spent teaching at Hogwarts.

The day had been calm. Severus spent the morning sitting with you at your small wooden dining table and, for the first time in god knew how long, the two of you had actually laughed together over breakfast.

As you reached for a teacup to dry and put away, you heard a slight shuffle as Severus walked over to your bookshelf. You could just barely see him from the doorway as he peered at all the books you had crammed onto the shelf.

“You’ve finished Pride and Prejudice already?” You called out with a smile.

“Yes.” He replied matter-of-factly from the other room. “You’d better have more Austen on your shelf or I’m coming for your head.”

You giggled as you set the teacup back in the cabinet and reached for the second one.

“I still can’t believe you’ve never read her work before. Sense and Sensibility is on the bottom shelf, right side.”

“There is a god.” You laughed at Severus’ response. “Thank you.”

Before you could call out a reply, there was a flash outside your window.

That’s when time stopped.

You were no longer in your kitchen, but back there. In the courtyard of Hogwarts, running to catch up to Harry and his two friends as you raced against time to get to the Shrieking Shack. You looked to your right just as a bright flash of red shot your way. Then a fire in your hand.

“Y/N!”

The burning feeling in your right hand. It was all you could think about. The flash you saw. They were back. Coming for you. Ending it for good this time-

“Y/N, look at me.”

You heard someone crying. Was it Hermione? You were supposed to protect them, Harry and his friends. Did you fail?

“Y/N, come on!

Firm hands grasped either side of your face, snapping you back into reality. Severus stared at you with a strange combination of fright and determination.

“They’re back,” you gasped, wincing as Severus dug his fingertips into your shoulders tighter than you expected, an attempt to bring you out of your memories. “I-”

“It was lightning,” Severus replied quietly, resting one hand over your trembling one. You whimpered as you remembered the pain that shot through it that night the moment the curse hit you. “No one is outside. It was lighting, Y/N. It was the storm.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, but that only made the memories come back stronger. You opened your eyes again, your gaze landing on the shattered teacup that lay inches away from where you sat.

Severus guided your chin up until your eyes met his again.

“Stay like this,” he commanded softly. “Eyes on me. Breathe.”

He took a deep breath, and motioned for you to follow. You couldn’t stop shaking.

“It’s still there,” you whispered in defeat. “I can’t get it out of my head.”

Severus nodded his understanding as he caressed your cheek comfortingly. His features creased into a worried frown as he watched you try to catch your breath.

“Look at me, Y/N. Eyes on me, not the floor.”

You had to fight to tear your eyes away from the teacup. Severus smiled softly as your eyes met his once more.

“Good. Stay with me. You’re safe.”

I try my best…

…to prove that nothing’s out to get you.

The days turned to weeks, and then into months. Before you knew it, it had been a year since Severus had moved in with you.

You never believed people who said everything would heal with time, and a part of you still didn’t, but there were small things that had you thinking… perhaps there was an element of truth to that saying.

You saw it from time to time - moments of healing. It was in the way Severus placed a warm hand on your back as he passed behind you in your narrow kitchen. In the shared glances and gentle smiles the two of you exchanged over dinner. In the embraces you two gave each other before bed, which, as the months went on, turned into passionate kisses in the middle of the night.

Perhaps the fact that you and Severus had become lovers over the last few months contributed to why time felt increasingly gentle as it passed. Sure, there were still moments when you’d both be pulled right back into the war, but it happened less frequently. The painful, sharp edges of those memories had finally begun to dull.

You stood in the kitchen, slowly slicing strawberries as you watched the first few rays of sunrise begin to filter through the window. As you placed the slices into a bowl and reached for another berry, you felt a pair of arms gently circle around your waist.

“It’s not like you to be up early,” Severus grumbled as he kissed the shell of your ear. “Come back. Your side of the bed is too cold.”

“You weren’t supposed to be awake yet,” you replied with a laugh, turning your head just enough to kiss his nose. “I was planning on surprising you with breakfast in bed.”

“Mmm.” Severus began kissing your neck softly. “Sounds nice. I’d much rather have you in bed, though.”

You laughed and swatted at his arm as you resumed slicing strawberries.

Severus watched your motions in silence for a few moments, before his hand trailed back up your waist, across your arm, until his fingers rested over your right hand. You set your knife down and watched as Severus laced his fingers through your trembling ones.

“Does it hurt?” He asked quietly, stroking your thumb softly with his own. You shook your head.

“Not nearly as much as before. Sometimes I’ll still wake up in the night if I’m not careful and sleep on it funny… but it’s okay.”

“You should tell me when it hurts,” Severus murmured, leaning his head against yours. “I’ve been testing ingredients for various pain tonics, I think I might be close to finding a cure for your hand.”

You smiled at his statement. “It’s okay, really. The healers at St. Mungo’s said there’s nothing they can do. It’s permanent nerve damage.”

“Not if I can help it. There’s a cure for it until I know for certain I’ve tried everything I can.” Severus grumbled, his grip on your waist tightening. “Everyone at St. Mungo’s is a dunderhead. They discharged me when they knew I was no longer on the brink of death.”

You turned around, frowning at Severus disapprovingly. He sighed, brushing a strand of hair out of your face before kissing your forehead gently.

“Sorry. But you know it’s true. You did more to help me heal than they ever did.”

You nodded slowly, reaching your trembling fingers up to the scar on his neck. Your fingers hovered a few inches away, hesitant to touch the wound that had nearly claimed his life.

“It’s alright,” Severus reassured you. Your worried gaze met his warm, dark eyes. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

He placed his hand over your own, and the firm pressure of the palm of his hand against the back of your own stilled the trembling for a few moments. He slowly pushed your hand forward until it rested gently against his scar.

“It really doesn’t hurt?” You asked doubtfully.

“Sometimes,” Severus began softly, a memory tugging his gaze far away from you for a moment. “It feels strange. As if I’m remembering the pain but not experiencing it. It’s dull. Far away. But it’s nothing compared to the pain I felt when I first came home with you.”

You looked up and met Severus’s gaze, and you gave him a tiny smile.

“Thanks for coming home with me.” You whispered. That earned a frown from him.

“You say that as if I did you a favour.” He replied.

“You did, in a way. I don’t think I’d have been able to survive all this without you.”

In response, Severus leaned in and kissed you. It was soft at first, barely there, until you reached up and pulled him closer to you. His grip tightened on your waist and you nearly melted as the kiss grew more and more passionate. You reached your hands up to caress his face, but then broke away, cursing silently as your hand began trembling more than usual.

“Sorry,” you whispered. “It’s hard to control sometimes.”

Severus shook his head and kissed your palm, before leaning in to kiss you once more.

“You’re alright.”

You nodded. This time, you believed him.

“I know. You are too.”

Severus gazed at you understandingly. He kissed your forehead, letting his lips linger there for a few extra moments, before pulling you into a protective embrace.

“We both are.”

[ollypopwrites]

Bite Down

Rolan x F!Tav (she/her, AFAB) [** Tav's class is not mentioned. There's discussion of how she is not a tiefling, but no other hint to her race. Her appearance is also not discussed aside from some mentions of her being curvy/plus size/etc. There's not a lot of body diversity in the game, so I wanted to write a softer Tav. Other than that I tried to keep it as general as possible.]

Summary: Tav and Rolan seemed to always find their way into each other's beds, but it was never meant to be anything serious. When he finds out Tav lets her resident vampire feed from her, he realizes just how serious he would like it to be.

Rating: M (18+ MDNI)

Tags: Smut [PiV, f!receiving oral sex, biting, nipple play, marking, dirty talk, very light dom!rolan -- mostly feral!rolan who takes the lead, light blood play, light pain play, overstim] possessive behavior, jealous behavior, pining, and after care.

Word count: 4.5k

Notes: is it still pining if technically they've fucked already? not sure.

Read on Ao3

In some way it felt like being a teenager again, hiding away with Tav for a moment of privacy. She had told him she knew a spot, away from teasing siblings and tadpole connected companions. When she tilted her head conspiratorially and nodded to the Elfsong’s kitchens he had waited a few moments before meeting her back there. The cooks had said nothing when she grabbed him and dragged him to the cellar, and then into a secret room hidden behind some huge barrels of wine. 

It was filled with cobwebs and cages, along with a few racks of weapons. The only semblance of comfort was a small nest of bedrolls and blankets tucked away in one of the corners. 

“It’s not romantic but when I need a minute away from the camp it does just fine.”

“The rusted halberds certainly add… ambience,” he looked at her with a slightly bemused expression.

“There’s another less creepy hidden room I’d show you if it weren’t for,” she pulled a face, “the fact it’s currently filled with the corpses of a githyanki scouting party.”

Rolan blinked a few times at her, still finding himself at a loss at some of the things she said. Her life was a truly chaotic and absurd string of events. She shrugged, giving an adorably embarrassed half giggle and looked away from him. Pulling out a bottle of wine, she waved it enticingly at him before procuring some glasses and started pouring. 

This was the ritual, thus far. It had started at the party after she and her friends had saved the Grove, it had meant to be a single night tryst. He had the slightest hope he would find her in the city after they all made it, but he was under no delusions about what she was facing. Her entire life revolved around getting the mindflayer tadpole out of her head and his focus was getting to the apprenticeship at all costs. 

Then the Shadow Cursed lands happened. Where he was a real bastard, and she somehow forgave him. It was piss poor timing, to realize he was entirely enchanted with her in nthat place. At the time even just looking at her filled him with complete rage and shame. He blamed her, but mostly himself, and he wanted to bare his teeth and gnash and growl because it was better than giving into despair. He wanted her comfort, but he didn’t deserve it, and he hated himself for not being able to do it on his own. Yet there she was, bright and sweet and always so willing to help. Even worse, she always managed to succeed despite the odds making him feel so inadequate. 

It brought out a insecurity driven hostility that he was not at all proud of. He hoped by the time she saw him again he would be on his way to being a properly trained wizard and just altogether less of an ass. Someone worth knowing. 

After Lorrokan he’d felt raw and foolish and disenchanted. He was happy to be free of him but he was such a mess of mixed emotions. He needed some time before facing his siblings, who he had all but ignored besides sending money and short letters. If Lia ever found out what Lorrokan had been doing she would have done something stupid and Cal would have joined her, so he'd kept them away. Facing them and explaining what had been going on felt like such a heavy task. 

Tav hadn't judged. She had even. gone out of her way to further humiliate Lorroakan by making his corpse admit what she seemed to already have known: Rolan was more powerful than he ever was. When her companions took their leave, she had stayed behind and tried to distract him by suggesting they raid what had to be an incredibly expensive wine collection. It ended with her in his bed, a quiet gentle night where he buried his face in the crook of her neck afterward and she just held him. Vulnerability he had scarcely even exposed to his brother and sister came so easy for him with Tav. 

After that he had hidden away with his siblings to figure out just what the hell to do as the master of a tower. It wasn’t until she had turned up at Sorcerous Sundries a few days  later that he had gotten the courage to ask her if she was interested in having a glass of wine with him again. 

Drinking wine and talking always led to her kissing him. She always made the first move to lean in close and wait a beat for him to either allow it to happen or reject her advances. He was always keen, and never even tried to hide it. He had thought her beautiful from the moment she butted into his argument with Lia in the Grove, despite being annoyed at her intrusion. Even when he was determined to hate her his mind had turned to the softness of her while he pulled at his cock in fleeting moments of alone time at the Last Light Inn. 

As usual, her touch made Rolan suck in a sharp breath when her hand came to his cheek and gently caressed over a still healing bruise left over from Lorroakan. She always was so gentle, and generous with her touch, making him crumble and forget his pride in an instant. He cared about her a concerning amount, despite the shortness of their acquaintance, and he was always painfully obvious about it whenever she broke the fragile wall of his demeanor. He softened so easily for her. 

Her lips, just as plush and soft as he remembered, parted as tongues began to move against one another. Hers searched, tickling over his own lips and trailing over sharp teeth. It felt like the world stopped for a little bit, as they leisurely kissed  in a hidden back room, the quiet stillness making each excited breath and soft sound of enjoyment plain to hear. His tail curled around her, loose and leisurely. 

Rolan ducked his head, going to press his lips against her neck. His mouth met with a slightly rough scabbed hole. It was not unusual for her to have left over bumps or bruises from whatever fight she found herself in. The pair of puncture wounds on her throat, however, were perfectly spaced apart for it to have come from another person’s mouth. 

“What is this?” He asked, his fingers coming up to trace the wounds. 

“Hm?”

“Something bit you,” he said, his tail beginning to flick in short angry patterns. “Some one .”

Had she been with another tiefling recently? Perhaps Karlach or maybe even Wyll, who was a devil, but the distinction hardly mattered in this instance. These were bite marks from someone with sharp teeth; it could have been either one of them. The nasty flame of jealousy sparked his already quick temper, and he scowled as he looked at the pair of punctures on her skin. 

“Oh,” she said, “yes, Astarion needed to feed before we got into the city. There was nothing he could hunt in the Shadowcursed Lands.”

“You feed him your blood?”

“He’s a vampire, it’s all he can really get sustenance from.”

“I know that,” he said, shortly, “but I didn’t think you let him drink from you.”

“Normally he doesn’t,” she raised her eyebrows. “He usually picks off whoever is trying to kill us that day. But as I said, he’d been low on options until we got here.”

If Rolan were feeling more reasonable he could listen to the logic of it. She was their leader, she took the responsibility very seriously: if one of them needed something she was going to provide it. And the Shadowcursed lands had been entirely inhospitable to life, there was honestly almost nothing for Astarion to feed off of. 

“Rolan?” She asked after a few moments of his angry silence.

“Do you sleep with him?”

“What?” She pulled back to look at him in slight shock and disbelief. "No.” 

She didn't say as much, but he reminded himself that it wasn’t really any of his business even if she did. There was no agreement of exclusivity between them. No discussion of intentions or anything of the sort. They’d had sex at a party and then once again his first night in ownership of the tower. It didn’t matter that he thought of only her when he pleasured himself, or that he had spent hard nights after Lorrokan’s beatings imagining she would walk through his door with an easy smile. She wasn’t his but he couldn’t deny the needling reality that over the past few weeks he had started to consider himself hers. 

“Do you like it?”

Tav looked at him quizzically. “Being drained of blood isn’t exactly my idea of a good time.”

“But the biting?”

The hard truth was he could hardly blame Astarion, vampire or not. Tav was soft in shape and feel, she was strong of course, but at least in appearances her skin was plush and delicate. Rolan had only ever slept with tieflings before, and while their infernally ridged skin was not rough to the touch it was just naturally a bit more durable. They had to be with their sharp nails and teeth, he'd never had to worry about if he was being too rough. That first night with Tav he had been shocked and intrigued by the easy way scratches raised on her skin and how her flesh was indented by his teeth. He’d be lying if he hadn’t thought about biting into her again and again, just to feel what it was like.

Tav’s breath hitched, and her defensiveness had melted into uncertain embarrassment. “I - I suppose I would? If it weren’t for the bloodlessness —“

Rolan leaned in to kiss her again, messy and possessive, tail wrapping around her wrist. His body pushed hers back a bit onto the bedroll, and when he pulled his lips away his teeth latched onto her bottom lip. The gasp she gave made it slip from him, and she got shoved entirely onto her back as he went for her throat. Tail and one hand pinning her wrists to the ground, his other tilted her chin up and aside. The column of flesh was almost entirely unmarked, save for Astarion’s work. He opened his mouth wide enough to clamp down and each of his sharp canines dug in. Beneath him, he felt her body tense up at the sudden sensation. 

But she moaned. And he heard a rumbling groan leave his throat that sounded alarmingly like a growl. 

His mouth sought after more untouched skin. Tav kept making soft, helpless little noises that spurred him on, it felt so good to have her flesh between his teeth. When he looked down at her she was a bit of a mess, covered in new love bites, parted lips swollen and her eyes lidded as she looked up at him. 

Adorable , he thought to himself. 

Besides being so beautiful and powerful and capable he couldn’t help but think about how cute she was. Sweet despite the trail of bodies in her wake, and always giggling and smiling — tits and ass bouncing with every step she took. So cute, in fact, he couldn't help but keep squeezing and biting. At the juncture of her shoulder and neck, he dug in harder than he intended to — Tav hissed in pain. The slightest hint of iron bloomed on his tongue. He pulled back, seeing he had broken skin. It was much smaller than the vampire’s bites, more like pinpricks in her skin beneath the discoloration of a bruise. 

“I’m sorry —“ he breathed. 

“S’okay,” she shook her head. 

“Do you like it?”

She licked her lips. A brief flash of bashfulness ran over her face; she chewed on the inside of her lip before she nodded a little. “Yes,” she said meekly. 

“Me too.”

“I can tell,” her hand pulled out of his tail’s hold, coming up to the tented fabric of his robes over his crotch. 

He grunted. “Y-yeah.” He swallowed, grasping onto the remaining capability of thought, “if it’s too much —  we can stop, we don’t need to —“

“I trust you,” her smile was genuine, just slightly hazy, but her eyes sparkled with affection. He was mesmerized. “Do you trust me?”

“With my life,” he answered too quickly, and too earnestly. Were there more blood for him to spare between his cock and his already heated body he may have blushed.

“I’ll tell you if I need to stop.” 

“Good.” He kissed her. 

Clothes were clumsily pulled off, until they were both all but naked in the lowlight of the candelabras in the room. With her bare before him, he kept biting every bit of skin he could get to, ignoring her attempt to reach down and stroke his cock. He felt an unignorable need to keep marking her, to clench his teeth around her beautifully adorable body. He was being incredibly greedy, wanting to make sure that anyone who saw her knew that he had been there. 

Taking the weight of her breasts in his hands he pressed them together, ducking his mouth to one nipple and swirling his tongue around it. She gasped, hands gripping into his hair. Her nails were hard enough that he felt the scratch of them on his scalp, but not nearly painful. The feeling had a shiver starting from the base of his tail up to the top of his head. 

“Gods above, Rolan,” she murmured. 

His thumbs took over in teasing the rigid peaks, as he moved his mouth onto the impossibly squishy and generous swell of her breasts. Sucking and biting until he was satisfied with the discoloration before he moved onto the same spot of the other. His knee came between her thighs, and she ground her cunt against it the moment she felt it there. Wet and somehow warm enough for him to tell she was burning for him despite his infernal blood keeping him always a fair bit warmer than her. His teeth wrapped around a nipple, extremely careful but she faltered in her breathing and tensed up in anticipation. 

But he just ran his tongue over the tip until she whined, letting it go easily when she bucked her hips against his thigh. 

“I want to taste you,” he said. 

Tav laughed a little, “as if you haven’t been trying to eat me alive already.” 

“Shall I stop?”

“Did I tell you to stop?”

“It sounded like you were complaining,” he grumbled. 

“You would know all about that,” she teased. “It’s one of your specialit — ah!”

Rolan repaid the teasing with another harsh bite on the side of her neck. Her fingers tugged at his hair, and he bit down harder. His fingers tweaked her nipples, his thigh pressed against her cunt, and she twitched a little before going limp. Tav whined and clenched her eyes shut against the sensations. 

It was a strangely satisfying show of submission. He felt his cock drip precum, his tongue dancing over the dent in the shape of his teeth in her skin.

“Let me taste you,” he said again. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” she breathed in response, frantically. 

Rolan dragged his canines along the softness of her tummy, liking the small scratches they made in their wake. When he was finally between her thighs, he groaned into the skin. As was his desire, he started nibbling into the skin there too. Her fingers still tugged at his hair, scratching his scalp and making him groan in pleasure. When he licked along the lush seam of her cunt he shuddered, her needy little whine and the taste making him feel dizzy. The vampire may have tasted her blood, but now so had he. The privilege of knowing what her arousal tasted like on his tongue was something he was sure none of her companions could claim. 

He got to hear the way she keened as he found the way to make her hips nearly buck him off of her, and the needy noise she made when he shoved them back down. There was no force in Faerûn that could pull him away from pushing down her hips and devouring her. In his haste and mindless goal to simply claim and consume, it took him longer than he would have liked to admit to keep track of what had her gasping for more. But once he did he didn't stop until her legs tried to close in on him, and even then he let himself be squished between the strength of them. Her high pitched moan echoed off of the ceiling, reverberating through his skull in a blissful ring, his eyes nearly rolling back. Soft skin bracketing his face, the smell and taste of her invading his senses all the while her moans tickling his brain made his hips grind down into the blankets beneath him. He felt her pulsing against his tongue, and dipped it into her hole greedily tasting the rush of wetness that followed after. 

“By Ao, you —“ she cut herself off with a hiss as his mouth latched onto her clit again, “fuck!”

No God’s name would do coming from her lips, only his name, only pleads for more, for him. She was sensitive, and it was plainly obvious by the way she devolved into helpless sounds as her hips ground against him. This was what he wanted, to have her entire world fall away to nothing except him between her legs, her unfettered attention as he made her feel so blissful she forgot how to speak.

He got carried away, not keeping track of how many times she came on his tongue until finally she yelped and grabbed his horns. When she tugged him away from her he admired his victory — she was a wreck of love bites, kiss swollen lips open as she gasped for breath, and eyes swimming with unspilled tears. Rolan felt her wetness on his lips and chin against the cool air of the cellar, tongue swiping over his lips for another taste of her. 

“Too much,” she gasped. 

A darker voice in him wanted to tell her it would be too much when he said so, but he was still himself despite whatever had come over him. Perhaps one day they could experiment, perhaps one day they could do this right and he could see how far he could really take her. He could make those tears spill over, making her come over and over until she was incapable of speech let alone thoughts. A shudder ran down his spine, tail lifting excitedly at the idea. 

But this was a spur of the moment tryst underneath the Elfsong, and he wasn’t going to stop everything now to negotiate limits and safewords and the like. 

“Do you,” he breathed, lifting himself up to get away from the temptation of her so close to his mouth, “do you want to stop?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I want you to fuck me.”

His so far ignored cock bobbed between his legs, and he closed his eyes as he moaned at the words. With haste he brought himself onto his knees, grabbing her thighs and tugging her half into his lap. Nestling between her thighs, he watched as he slotted himself against her, rubbing through the wetness and nearly choking on the air he was breathing. Her hand came between them, grabbing his cock from where he unthinkingly kept rubbing it against the silky wetness, and pressed it to her entrance. 

Rolan went rigid. Tav gave a little smile. His hips pushed forward, savoring the slow penetration as she surrounded him. He waited, enjoying the soft squeeze of her, and gasped when her hand came to his cheek. The unspoken hung in the air, she had him, he was safe, he was doing good -- he was perfect the way he was cupped in her palm like this. He opened his eyes, meeting hers and very nearly confessed an undying love he was unsure he was aware of before. 

There was some unknown magic in Tav that seemed to bring down the walls of almost everyone she met. He fancied himself a logical, and practical, man. He’d known this woman for mere weeks, a very short time in the grand scheme of his life, and yet it felt like he could tell her anything, and be his worst and still get that sweet smile from her. In fact, he had been the worst version of himself and she had shown him patience and compassion anyway. 

He knew he liked her, otherwise why would he be in this creepy hidden back room rutting like a beast on a makeshift bed, but love? 

Despite the constricting bliss of her cunt around him, sharp reality bled into his mind. He told himself he would properly court her once she was free of her tadpole. Then he could entertain the idea of love. Until that day came, he had a tower and unending resources of a magic nature to keep her safe, and the privilege of being the one she turned to for a reprieve from the horrors of her new fate. Which, he admitted, also granted him the pleasure of being able to bury his cock in her. 

“Alright?” She asked him, thumb trailing over his lips before she moved her hand to rub at the center of his brows which where furrowed. 

Rolan felt his throat tighten. She was so incredibly gentle with him sometimes he had no clue how to properly react to it. He just nodded. 

He needed to get out of his head, he needed to get back to the warm wetness he was currently feeling. Sliding his hips back and then thrusting forward, her hands fell to his forearms and her body laid back against the bedroll again. The skin of her hips dimpled under his grip, and he tightened his hold. It was a sinfully delicious feeling to slide against her walls, and he felt every other thought start to slip away again. His eyes danced over her body, now riddled with his own marks, but when he caught the vampire’s bite his jaw clenched, remembering where this all started. 

Perhaps he shouldn’t wait until the present danger was cleared. Perhaps he should just go against his usual self-preservation and simply tell her he wanted her to be his, only his. A harsher thrust had her tits bouncing with the force of it and kept going at the same intensity to watch it happen over and over again. 

“Gods, Rolan,” she moaned. “You feel so good.”

His jaw went slack at the praise, spurring him on to keep going. When her hips met his, rolling to meet each thrust, the slap of skin on skin started to fill the room loudly. One hand reached for her breast, fingers dancing over the bite mark he had left. 

“Will you let your cleric heal these away?” He asked breathlessly. 

Tav gulped, her hand coming over his on her breast. “I don’t want to. Do you want me to?”

Stupid question , he thought, and maybe said aloud given the way she laughed. It was hard to think now that he was thrusting in and out of her. He covered her body with his, arms wrapping around her so her own were pressed to her side. All she could do was grab at his arms, holding on as his weight pushed her legs further apart and pressed him deeper into her. 

“No,” he said, biting down on her shoulder hard enough that she yelped in pain. “I want you to go back to camp, hardly able to walk,” he said between making another bruise. “Covered in my marks — fuck, I want them to know I nearly had you in tears fucking you with my tongue.”

Gods, that was vulgar — he nearly apologized until Tav let out a gasp of his name, her cunt clenching around him. His mind went fuzzy again. There was no need to be proud and dignified for her, he could just say what he was thinking, even the deepest filthiest thoughts that came to his mind while he fucked her. 

“I’ll send you back with my cum, dripping out of you —“ he gasped. 

Tav’s back arched, her eyes rolling back a little as she came, surprising them both with the suddenness of it. Rolan was losing his rhythm, body pulsing with a need for release. No more words came to mind, just the ringing sound of her voice chanting his name and her walls fluttering around him. It was a chain reaction, as he suddenly felt the tension snap and came, whining as he did, desperately thrusting into her heat as his vision whited out. 

When he went limp against her, he took a couple breaths, the haze of the possessive flames in him subsiding. He had proved himself, he had her exactly as he wanted, and she had eagerly let him. Rolan lifted his head to kiss her. Softly, wordlessly gentle, only pulling away to press their foreheads together. The desire to say something, to tell her just how much she meant to him, but self-preservation was back in full force. The words wouldn't unstick from his throat. He helped clean her up, kissed softly at some of the harsher marks. He wanted to murmur words of encouragement and care as they curled up together, but he couldn't trust himself to not say too much. Rolan's arms, legs and tail wrapped around her as he breathed in the quiet of the afterglow. At the very least, he could trust his body to communicate what he was too afraid to say. 

“Rolan,” she said gently. 

“Hm?”

“I —“ she started shyly. “I don’t want — I haven’t been with anyone else, not since… “ she chewed on her lip, trying to decide what to say but coming up short. “I’m trying to say, I’m not interested in anyone at camp. Or, anywhere else, actually.”

Rolan’s tail wrapped around her leg, and he finally felt himself start to blush a deep crimson. “Good.”

Really? That’s all he had to say? He’d just told her more filthy things than he’d thought he’d ever said in his life but all he could come up with was ‘good' when she told him exactly what he had been wanting to hear. He cleared his throat, steeling himself to not fuck this up before it ever had a beginning. 

“You’re incredibly busy, what with the tadpoles and the cultists and all of the characters you run around with, but,”  he started, “perhaps when all of that is over we could… begin a courtship.” 

“Doesn’t courting come before sex? Bit out of order, don’t you think?” She smiled. 

“You deserve a real courtship,” he said seriously. “I owe you that, at least.”

“You owe me nothing,” she kissed him. 

“You’ve changed my life in unimaginable ways. Are you this altruistic with everyone?” 

“Don’t know if I should answer that,” she bit her lip to stop a smile, “I’ve learned you have a jealous streak about you. I’ve got dozens of bite marks to show for it.”

“Yes,” he grinned, “you do.”

Thank you for reading!

[milaisreading]

Crossdresser!Yn before meeting Ness' family:

Ness: You shitty midfielder!

Crossdresser!Yn: You dumb clown!

Crossdresser!Yn after meeting Ness' family:

Ness: You arrogant-

Crossdresser!Yn carrying blankets, chocolate, tea, fairytale books, and wizard costumes: It's ok. You had a stressful day, take these *pats Ness' head*

Ness:...

Ness: I hate you...

Crossdresser!Yn: It's ok, I understand

Ness:...

Ness: Thank you... *starts tearing up*

[hjparisian]

christmas kiss- harry j potter x reader

p: harry j potter x fem!reader w: fluff, not proofread summary: spending christmas with harry and the gang at hogwarts a/n: lil thing i whipped up, sorry its not the best. happy holidays everyone !

Christmas time at Hogwarts was one of the most gorgeous times of the year. The halls were decorated in holiday glee, Christmas trees lined the Great Hall thanks to Hagrid and the house elves. A white blanket of snow covered the grounds of the school, adding to the winter spirit.

Few students littered the halls of Hogwarts, most returning to homes to celebrate this wonderful holiday with family, but that didn't ruin the Christmas cheer.

(Y/N) (L/N) sat alone in her dorm, doing some very last minute gift wrapping. Her dormmates went home and her parents had something come up last minute which meant she would have to stay at the castle.

She didn't mind though. Especially when Harry was staying along with Hermione and the Weasleys. It was a bit exciting to be able to spend the holiday break with her friends.

(Y/N) was wrapping the last gift, which was a scarf and a broom kit for Harry. The boy had been complaining about the state of his firebolt, so (Y/N) had bought the kit to help him fix up his broom (as well as to stop the complaining). The scarf was something she knitted herself, noticing Harry's slight shiver in the colder months as he lost his Gryffindor scarf.

Harry had always been a wonderful friend to her since they started bonding in their second year. But (Y/N) would be lying if she said she just saw him as a friend. His boyish charm didn't fail to captivate her and his loyalty and kindness was something she had always admired.

Once she finished wrapping the last gift, (Y/N) gathered the rest of the gifts to bring to the Gryffindor common room. After speaking the current password to the portrait of the Fat Lady, (Y/N) spotted the trio.

"Merry Christmas everyone!" (Y/N) announced to her friends.

Hermione was the first to greet her, taking the gifts from her arms before wrapping her arms around her in a hug.

"Merry Christmas (Y/N)!"

Ron came up and greeted her in a hug as well. Harry was last to greet her, but was the best. His hugs felt like home.

"Where's Fred, George, and Ginny?" (Y/N) inquired, noticing the absence of three red heads.

"They're all outside in the snow," Ron told her. "We told them we'd meet up with them in a bit."

(Y/N) nodded. "Well, I have your guys' gifts if you'd like to open it," she said as she began handing them their respective gifts.

Ron did not hesitate to rip the wrapping paper off his, revealing sweets from Honey Dukes, a winter hat, and a poster of his favorite Chudley Cannons Players.

"This is wicked, (Y/N)!"

Hermione unwrapped her presents with care. She received a planning journal and a book of wizarding history.

"Oh, (Y/N). I love it!"

(Y/N) knew Ron and Hermione would enjoy their gifts, but she had a bit more worry on what Harry would think of his. Maybe Harry expected something more. What if he hated his gift?

Finally, Harry unwrapped his present. The corners of his lips turn upward upon seeing what he got. The sight began to put (Y/N) at ease, but her worries still consumed the back of her mind.

Harry grabbed the scarf, feeling the texture between his fingers.

"This is lovely, (Y/N). Did you make this scarf?"

The girl smiled, glad Harry enjoyed his gifts. "I did. Took a while to get it to look perfect."

"Well it look stunning. Thank you (Y/N)," Harry said to her, wrapping her in another hug.

Ron coughed, causing them to break apart. A sly smile appeared on his face.

"Hate to ruin the moment, but I think my brothers and sister are waiting for us."

"Wait, but (Y/N) hasn't opened any of our gifts," Hermione exclaimed. "Oh, but I left yours in my room."

"It's fine Hermione. I can open it later." (Y/N) reassured her. "Besides. I'm ready to go out in the snow."

The four of them went to meet the twin and Ginny out in the castle grounds, where they found them making a snowman.

"Finally," Fred said. "We've been waiting ages for you lot."

"Thought we would have to drag you here ourselves," said George.

"We didn't take that long," Ron huffed at them. "Besides you guys w-"

A snowball hit Ron in the face, stopping his sentence. He wiped the snow off his face, revealing his now slightly red face.

"Oi! What gives?" He said before another snowball hit his shoulder.

"How about less talking," George began.

"And more snowball fighting," Fred said before he and George ran from Ron.

Ron groaned. "Oh alright. Come on guys."

Hermione shook her head. "You guys can go ahead. I'll help Ginny with her snowman."

"Suit yourself," said Ron. "Let's go Harry, (Y/N)."

Ron, Harry and (Y/N) joined Fred and George on their snowball fight. The twins mainly threw at Ron since they thought it was funny, but didn't fail to make an aim at each other or (Y/N) and Harry.

(Y/N) had caught up to Harry, who stood back watching as Fred and George used their wands to cast a pile of snow onto Ron, who began to spit curses at them while digging his way out to chase after them.

"So how has your break been," Harry asked the girl.

"It's been good," she told him. "It's a bit sad I can't celebrate Christmas with my parents, but at least I'm celebrating with you."

Harry flushed a bit. "I'm glad to be celebrating with you too."

"So," (Y/N) began. "Do you really like the scarf?"

Harry nodded. "I love it. I can't believe you made it for me."

"I'd do anything for you, Harry," She said truthfully.

"Anything?"

(Y/N) nodded, feeling her face flush. "Of course. You mean the world to me, you always help me with anything so why wouldn't I do the same?"

"Then you wouldn't mind giving me a kiss?"

(Y/N) was taken back by Harry's words.

"A kiss?"

Harry nodded his head, suddenly feeling shy despite his bold words.

"A kiss. But only if you want to," he quickly said. "It's fine if you don't, we can just forget I even asked. Honestly it's probably silly for me to-"

Harry's tangent was cut off by a pair of soft lips on his. He was a bit shocked by it, not expecting it. He gave in, kissing the girl back.

Unfortunate for him, (Y/N) was the first to pull back, the warmth of her lips leaving his. The two stood in brief silence, staring into each other bright eyes.

"That was."

"Nice," (Y/N) said. "Really nice."

"Yeah, really nice," Harry agreed.

"So, does this mean you like me?" (Y/N) asked. Her heartbeat was racing and it felt like the snowflakes around them were floating in her stomach. This was either going to go good or bad.

"Depends. Do you like me?"

"Yeah," (Y/N) responded. "I do."

"I like you too, (Y/N). Like you for a while actually," the boy admitted.

"Me too." The girl felt herself smiling.

Clapping sounds distracted the two as they turned to see the twins, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, all with grins on their faces.

"Finally," Ron said to them. "I thought you guys were never going to tell each other."

"Thought we were going to have to do something about it, you know maybe a love potion." said Fred.

"Fred!" Hermione scolded him.

(Y/N) laughed a little. "Well I think I'm ready to head back in. Hot chocolate anyone?"

Everyone agreed and began to head back inside the castle. Harry and (Y/N) were at the ending trailing behind everyone, enjoying each others presence. Harry gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"Happy Christmas, (Y/N)."

"Happy Christmas, Harry."

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Robin Sloan’s “Moonbound”

On June 20, I'm keynoting the LOCUS AWARDS in OAKLAND.

Robin Sloan has a well-deserved reputation as a sparkly, fizzy writer, the kind of person who can tell a smart/smartass story infused with fantasy-genre whimsy but grounded in high-tech, contemporary settings (think here of Charlie Jane Anders' gorgeous All the Birds In the Sky):

https://memex.craphound.com/2016/01/26/charlie-jane-anderss-all-the-birds-in-the-sky-smartass-soulful-novel/

In Moonbound, a new, wildly ambitious solarpunk novel published today by Farrar, Strauss and Giroux, Sloan moves out of his usual, daffy, high-tech/high-weird Bay Area milieu and catapults us 11,000 years into the future, to a world utterly transformed and utterly fascinating:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9780374610609/moonbound

Moonbound's protagonist is a "chronicler," a symbiotic fungus engineered to nestle in a human's nervous system, where it serves as a kind of recording angel, storing up the memories, experiences and personalities of its host. When we meet the chronicler, it has just made a successful leap from its old host – a 10,000-years-dead warrior who had been preserved in an anaerobic crashpod ever since her ship was shot out of the sky – into the body of Ariel, a 12-year-old boy who had just invaded the long-lost tomb.

This is quite a move. This long-dormant, intelligent fungus originates a thousand years into our own future, long after the climate emergency had been (miraculously, joyously) averted and has arrived in a world ten millennia years even further down the line. It must orient itself from its position inside the nervous system of a 12-year-old, and we have to orient ourselves to having an 11,000-year-distant future explained by an intelligent fungus from 1,000 years into our own future.

This is doing fiction in hard mode, and Sloan nails it. The unraveling strangeness of Ariel's world is counterpointed with the amazing tale of the world the chronicler hails from, even as the chonicler consults with the preserved personalities of the heroes and warriors it had previous resided in and recorded.

And in this curious way, we learn of the history of the chronicler's world, and of the strange world so far into the future that Ariel lives in – and becomes incredible consequential to.

Start with the chronicler's world: on the way to solving the climate emergency, the human race figured out how to cooperate on unimaginably massive projects (for example, addressing the world's runaway carbon problem). This pays huge dividends, ushering in a period of thrilling innovation, as humans and the nonhuman intelligences they have constructed collaborate to explore out planet, our solar system, and – thanks to a faster-than-light breakthrough – our galaxy.

A crew of seven are dispatched to the ends of space with great fanfare – but when they return, they are terrified and full of grim purpose. Something they met out there in the galaxy has convinced them that humanity must never look to the stars again. They blanket the planet in a cloak of dust and establish a garrison on the moon from which they destroy any attempts to leave the Earth.

This triggers a savage war against these seven "dragons" and their moonbase. The chronicler's warrior – the one who was entombed for 10,000 years before being discovered by Ariel – was shot down on a last-ditch attempt to destroy the dragons and their base on the moon.

Flash forward 10,000 years. Ariel lives in a weird, medieval-type village, albeit one in which the peasant-types all wear high-tech performance all-weather gear…and the animals all talk. It's a very strange place – there's a sword in a stone, a wizard in a tower…and an airstrip.

Even as the chronicler is trying to make sense of this anachronistic muddle, Ariel is marching towards his destiny. In short order, he finds himself in fear for his life, and then – for the first time in his life or the life of any other villager – Ariel leaves the village.

This kicks off the road-trip part of the novel, a real bildungsroman that sees Ariel, the chronicler, and a whole Wizard-of-Oz's worth of road pals (including a rusty tin-man type robot who is part of a hive mind of thousands of other robots all over the world; oh and a talking beaver) (oh, and a dead guy) (and there's an elk with a symbiotic beehive in its antlers that dribbles a stead stream of honey down its muzzle).

My editor Patrick Nielsen Hayden once articulated a theory of how science fiction works: you have the world, which is a kind of grand thought experiment, and you have a protagonist, who is a kind of microcosm of that world. Think of the world as this big, heavy gear, and the character as a much-faster-spinning gear that meshes with the world, spinning and spinning, pushing the world inchingly around a full revolution:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/26/aislands/#dead-ringers

The chronicler is a perfect microcosm of this strange world, where dozens of great civilizations have arisen and fallen – the ruins of a great society of hyperintelligent rats turns out to be very useful on one part of Ariel's quest – and where the dragons brood overall, a menace in the sky that the Earth's inhabitants have all but forgotten, but whom the chronicler can't ignore.

Sloan is really having a lot of fun with his talking animals; his transdimensional gods; his space-maddened, murderous lunar AIs. On the way, he's doing all kinds of really cool tricks – like asking us to really sit with the idea of giving moral consideration to the nonhuman world, including "beings" we currently think of as inanimate objects. This is a great riff:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/07/more-than-human/#umwelt

Sloan's debut novel, Mr Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore, mixed the tropes and sensibilities of tech culture with a beautiful, escapist fantasy, a "curious little magic shop" tale that was absolutely delightful:

https://memex.craphound.com/2012/11/16/mr-penumbras-24-hour-bookstore-the-perfect-nerdish-fantasy/

And with Sourdough, Sloan's second book, he took that same fascination with the numinous (and with nerdy, obsessive hobbies) to the microscopic plane, with a tale of microorganisms and mystery:

https://memex.craphound.com/2017/09/05/sourdough-a-delicious-story-about-nerdism-and-the-flesh-by-robin-mr-penumbra-sloan/

Moonbound delivers Sloan's third – and best! – fusion of fantasy and science fiction, delving deep into the meaning of personhood, language and moral agency with a road-trip story that visits a dazzling collection of wildly imaginative settings and societies in an epic quest to slay the dragons on the moon.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/11/penumbraverse/#middle-anth

[mrs-snape5984]

“It’s true! Look, how they shine for you…”

“Look, how they shine for you, and all the things that you do…” (“Yellow” by Coldplay)

Today, I want to share a personal story with you…something, I’ve experienced about two weeks ago.

As some of you might know, I’m living in my very own Snape-museum-like chamber, which is dedicated to my beloved Severus and the Wizarding World in general. Since I’m suffering from this cruel disease ME/CFS, I’m not capable of leaving the darkness and solitude of my room anymore. So, surrounding myself with my already 21 years lasting passion for Severus in memorabilia and artworks, is my way of coping with my loneliness and my sadness. Every single piece of my collection is like a patch of consolation…sewed together into a huge comfort blanket, which embraces me to soothe my troubled heart.

For this reason, I get notifications, whenever someone offers another rare item of Severus Snape online. This time, I found an extremely interesting and beautiful sideboard, which was skilfully painted and decorated. Unfortunately, this object was 600 kilometres away from my home, so I couldn’t ask anyone, if they could pick it up for me. Despite the fact, that I wouldn’t be able to buy this cabinet, I contacted the owner of it with the only intention to congratulate her for her beautiful design of this unique piece of furniture….and suddenly, we found ourselves in a nice chat about Severus Snape and his meaning for us.

She showed me a delicate pencil drawing of Severus, which she had made and I was immediately in love with it. After presenting her my own art collection on my walls, she offered me her drawing as a present. And now, I’m allowed to share it with you all! Thank you, J. Holdman, for your act of pure kindness and compassion. You’re an incredibly empathetic and thoughtful person and I’m grateful for meeting you online.

Commissioning artworks has become my favourite coping mechanism, even though it’s currently more difficult for me, since my savings are shrinking and my regular income isn’t paid anymore, due to my disability. I feel bad, that I can’t add every single drawing to my walls, but my room isn’t very big (and some of them would also be inappropriate for my children’s eyes 😏). Sadly, I’m struggling a lot with the acceptance of daylight and illumination, lately. But once a day, I’m switching on a little lamplight to enjoy my art gallery for some minutes (by wearing sunglasses).

My beloved friend Miri helped me again to rearrange my whole gallery. You’re invited to grab a piece of my joy by having a glimpse at my collection. Please feel free to enjoy these masterpieces of art! Most of them are drawings of Severus and my, indeed, very self-inserted OC Jules! 🥹

Credits for these mesmerising pieces of art in my room go out to (there’s no order, I’m going through my gallery, whilst I’m writing this):

J. Holdman

My bestie Miri H.

@madfantasy

@mmad-lover

@turpinsimp-blog

@snake-queen7

@alinearthp

@dranna

@sleepybradipo

@capysnapeart

@hannisimp

@opalchalice

@pinklovecharm

You all…and all the other artists of Snapedom, I’ve already commissioned, but also all those other persons, I’ve met here on tumblr, are my lights in this dark time…my stars…my yellow! There are no words to express my gratitude…so I just leave it like that. Thank you. ✨

🖤Severus & Julia🖤

🖤Sevy & Jules🖤

[allyeardepression]

@jegulus-microfic | march 27 birthday | words: 780

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BABY!!! i had fun writing this one so i hope y’all have fun reading;3

tw: walburga appears, suicidal tendencies (it’s brief and probably not many of you will think of it that way but still)

Regulus wasn't the type to make grand romantic gestures; it was always James.

For example, when he took Regulus on their first date—not just a meeting in the middle of the night at the Astronomy Tower, but a real date—James’ found this beautiful meadow in the Forbidden Forest, near the Black Lake. Regulus thinks it must have taken the other boy at least half a day to get the place ready, because when they arrived, there were Christmas lights hanging in the trees, a record player was standing next to one of them, quietly playing some Elvis song, and in the middle there was a warm-looking blanket with candles, flowers, steaming food, fruit, and something that looked like a bottle of elvish wine. It is safe to say Regulus was in complete awe.

The other time was just a few weeks later, when it was Regulus’ birthday. James did not buy it, but he made him a little crooked silver ring with antlers engraved on it. When the younger boy asked how exactly he did it, James just shrugged and said, ‘Dad thought me’ like it was the most obvious answer in the world. And, okay, they were wizards, so it wasn’t the hardest thing for them to transfigure something into something else, but when Regulus later tried to reverse any spells cast on the ring, nothing happened, which meant not only did James make it himself, but he also made it without any magic. What a guy, that one.

When James and Sirius came to Grimmauld one night that summer to rescue Regulus and Walburga caught them, threatening to kill all three boys, Potter straightened up, holding his wand out in front of her confidently.

"Leave them alone; if you want to kill someone, try me." As he said this, the woman raised her hand to cast the killing curse, but James was faster; with one smooth gesture, he had her stunned and bound. After they disapparated, landing in Potter Manor, both Blacks started shouting at him for his recklessness and stupidity, while they hugged him tight.

Regulus could talk about every amazing thing James did to prove his love for hours—there were so many. But when it came to his own grand gestures, the list ended at one: when he sent Avery and Mulciber to the Hospital Wing with the skin melted off of their faces after throwing two Bludgers at James at the same time. So, he made exactly zero romantic gestures for almost a whole year of dating James.

Fortunately, the 27th of March was approaching, and with it, his boyfriend’s birthday.

On Friday morning, while the whole Great Hall was having a rather loud breakfast, Regulus scanned the Gryffindor’s table to find—aha!

Spotting that bright smile on the other side, Regulus pulled out the big box he had hidden beneath the bench and sent it flying through the whole room with one flick of a wand. Everyone was looking at it in almost complete silence, waiting in anticipation to see where it would land. Regulus stole one glance in the direction it was going and noticed three different expressions: James looked like he would burst out crying any second, Sirius' face twisted into something between admiration and disgust, and Remus and Peter looked like one was having the time of his life and the other was about to choke from laughing.

As the package landed carefully in James’ laps, everyone went so quiet you could hear a fly buzzing. The Gryffindor opened the box with shaky hands, looking right back up when he saw what was inside. His mouth kept opening and closing while looking at Regulus. The whole student body turned to look at him, but his eyes were trained on James’. Still to this day, Regulus has no idea what got into him at that moment, but he stood up and strode to James with a smug expression.

Reaching the birthday boy, Regulus leaned forward, took his face in his hands, and kissed him softly on the lips; James immediately reciprocated. The kiss was nothing like what they shared in the broom cupboards, in the Come-and-Go Room, or even at the Astronomy Tower; this one was the best of all of them—slow, sweet, and, oh, so full of love.

When they parted, Regulus could finally hear the whispers echoing throughout the room, making it seem as if someone had locked him in a hive. He didn’t care. All he cared for was the handsome man in his hands.

“Joyeux dix-huitième anniversaire, amour de ma vie,” Regulus whispered against James’ lips, feeling the other smiling broadly. Yeah, he thought, this one counts as romantic.

translation: happy eighteenth birthday, love of my life

[stars-and-inkpots]

hey! could you write a little something based on our wizards fav line "if I don't get my beauty sleep soon, i might get just a tad malcontent" - tired cranky wizard ftw! 🤣

absolutely i can! (i hear this line a lot given my tendency to do absolutely everything i can before long resting even though i very much do not need to) thank you for this idea! hope you enjoy!

Beauty Sleep | Gale x Reader

You forget that not everyone is used to so much travelling in one day. Gale is more than eager to remind you that some people would very much enjoy some rest, and soon.

Pairing: Gale/Reader

Tags: Cuddling, fluff

Word Count: 583

All things considered, Gale did try to keep his complaints to a minimum. He understood that things had to get done, and that you had to make the most of the day’s limited hours. It was, however, becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the exhaustion that was steadily consuming him. 

“We should rest these weary bones of ours soon,” Gale says to you as you walk. The rest of the group has started to slow, but the sun is still high enough in the sky that it would be too early yet to retire for the night. 

“Soon enough,” you answer. You can hear Gale’s disappointed huff, but he says nothing more. You continue on. The day has mostly been mapping out the forest, gathering supplies and clearing the path for tomorrow when you planned to move camp. It’s given you little trouble, only a few gnolls to be dealt with which was only a minor inconvenience at best. 

“We should rest soon. It’s hard to save the world while you’re stifling yawns,” Gale speaks up again after another hour. This time, the group seems to share his opinion, though none of them voice this. 

“We’ll return to camp soon. I want to explore just a little further; it will make the trip tomorrow easier.” You watch as Gale, clearly disappointed with this answer, sighs but continues to walk beside you. He trusts your judgement, and knows that you have the group's best interest at heart. “I promise we’ll return soon, my love,” you say quietly. The pet name eases the ire that grows with the pain in his knees. 

The sun has well begun its journey towards the horizon by the time Gale speaks up again. His patience, as boundless as it is, is truly beginning to wane. 

“If I don’t get my beauty sleep soon, I might just get a tad malcontent.” His tone is short and clipped, exhaustion leaving him increasingly irate. 

You smile despite yourself; as bad as you feel for the clear discomfort of the wizard, his use of the phrase ‘beauty sleep,’ you must admit, is a little funny. “Yes, I’m sorry. I lost track of time.” You look back at the others. “That’s enough for today, let’s head back.” You turn back to Gale to add, much quieter, “I am sorry, truly. I forget that others aren’t used to travelling this much in a day. Could I make it up to you with a cuddle later? Unless you don’t wish me to interrupt your ‘beauty sleep,’ that is.” He knows you’re teasing him a little, but he’s inclined to let it slide when he notices the genuine care in your words. 

“I suppose I could accept such an apology. My rest could wait just a little longer, perhaps.” 

You’re relieved to see his smile return as you walk back to camp. 

You keep your word. Once everyone has eaten and gone to their respective tents, you meet Gale in his. 

Looking just as comfortable as he always does, Gale is waiting on his bedroll, already underneath the several blankets. When he sees you, he’s quick to pull them back to make room for you to fit yourself in beside him. You wrap your arms around him, and within minutes his breathing has evened out and you can hear the faint snores that let you know he’s found sleep. You press a quick kiss to the top of his head, then let yourself drift into unconsciousness as well.

[justmeinadaze]

Take It Out On Me Part 20 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)

Warnings: Daddy Steve/ Sir Eddie and Sub Fem Plus size reader, you aren't going to see a lot those dynamics in this chapter. She does refer to them by their titles occasionally but due to the situation refers to them by their names more than anything. There is SMUT of the fluffy slightly vanilla variety (I know its weird lol), FLUFF, they love each other and they're a family <3.

ANGST, sooooo much angst which if you read the last chapter you were prepared for (or if you know me lol), they do have dinner with his mom and they do talk about their abuse so a domestic abuse and child abuse trigger warning is in effect! They don't go into full details but hitting and bleeding is mentioned. Eddie talks about his abandonment and feeling replaced. There are feels but there is a peaceful resolution :). I wanted that for Eddie <3.

Word Count: 3983

“Baby, relax.”, Steve coos in a gentle tone as he comes up behind you to turn off the sink and collect you in his arms. 

You had been scurrying around the apartment doing busy work while Eddie finished getting ready. Tonight was the dinner with his mom at Wayne’s trailer and you were extremely nervous. 

“I’m trying. I’m just worried about him.”

“I know, honey. Everything’s going to be alright. Thanks to you he’s not doing this alone.”

You sigh as you lean into his embrace and rest your arms over his own. 

“I need you to make sure I don’t get arrested tonight because I swear to God, if she says one rude thing—”

“Ok, Rocky. Chill.”, he chuckles as he kisses your lips. 

“Alright, I’m ready.”, Eddie exhales heavily as he comes out of the bedroom and grabs his jacket. “Let’s get this over with.”

***

“How’s he doin’?”, Wayne asked as you helped him in the kitchen. 

The original plan was to have the meal outside so everyone wouldn’t feel so cramped but as if sensing the mood, a storm slowly creeped into Hawkins and began to pour as soon as you three made it into the trailer. The boys helped set up a table in the living room while you took the opportunity to catch up with Eddie’s uncle. 

“He’s been as okay as he can be. Definitely more clingy which I don’t mind. He had work the other day and asked if I could hang out with him during his shift.”

“Yeah… When he was a boy, after he moved in, he used to carry around this Wizard of Oz book like a safety blanket. I noticed after a while whenever he was nervous or anxious, he would bring it with him wherever he went and read it. I was honestly surprised when he left it here after he moved. Must have found a new thing to comfort him.”, he grinned as he patted your shoulder. 

“Is it still in his room?”

Wayne nodded as you excused yourself to go look, finding it by his dresser, and coming back to slip it in your purse. A knock on the door causes everyone to freeze as his uncle takes one last big breath and heads to open it. 

You quickly place yourself by Eddie’s side as he reaches out to hold your hand.

“Here we go.”

#################

His mother was a lot smaller than you imagined her being but your only frame of reference was the photo you had seen of her in his room with all the Munson’s together. She was a curvy woman and her short black hair accentuated the slight chipmunk plump of her cheeks. Her energy radiated the same softness that Eddie carried but you were still apprehensive especially after what she had done. 

As she entered the trailer and Wayne took her coat, Eddie remained still as his eyes constantly scanned her over. 

“Lynn, this is, um, Eddie’s best friend Steve Harrington.”

“You’re the other boy that had gotten hurt in the fire.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Thank you for saving him.”

Steve just nodded politely as Wayne gestured towards you. “This is their girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

You followed Steve’s lead, choosing to nod as well without saying a word. 

When she made it to her son, both people were completely unsure on how to proceed. Testing the water, his mom extended her hand for him to shake and his reaction surprised you both as he slightly flinched, taking a step backwards away from her.

“The, uh, food is done. Steven, can you help me bring the last of it to the table here?”

Wayne knew better than to ask you. There was no way you were leaving Eddie’s side now that she was here. Once everything was placed and everyone was seated, his uncle handled the bulk of the conversation, making small talk where he could to cut the tension. 

“I see you’re still a wonderful cook, Wayne.”

“Hm. Thank you. Since I work overnight, I don’t get to cook as much as I’d like but…”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. I was a night nurse for a while after I moved so it was a lot of microwave meals.”

“Oh? So, you, um, became a nurse?”

“I did. I had some experience with healing wounds…so…” Her head hung as her voice trailed off. “Um, how long have you guys been together?”, she asks as gestures towards you.

“A little over three years.”

“Well, that’s nice. Did you know each other in school?” 

When you only nod, Wayne tries to help again. 

“I think Ed told me he met Y/N junior year? Steve we’ve known for a while even though I don’t think you started coming over, son, till middle school.”

“Uh, yes sir. 7th grade I believe. It’s funny to think about since I came over to listen to music and watch movies but our tastes are so different.”

“Oh, the fact that he has some and you don’t?”, you tease as Steve smiles and sticks his tongue out at you.

“What kind of things are you into?”, she asks Eddie. The boy continues to glare at his plate as he moves food around with his fork.

“He’s taken Y/N here to a few concerts like Dio and Poison if I’m not mistaken.”

“My daughter is into heavy metal as well. My husband and I just bought her a drum set and she just…” She trailed off again when she noticed Eddie was finally looking at her. “You’d, um, you’d really get along with her.”

“Yeah? How old is she?”

“She just turned 9.”

“Huh. Sounds like her double digits are going to be WAY better than mine.”, the man sassed as he folded his arms and leaned back in his seat. “Just out of curiosity, how many more are there?”

“I have three with my current husband. My oldest is 9, my other daughter is 6, and my son…is 3.”

“Your oldest is actually 21 but I’m glad you were finally able to have another son. Now you can replace me entirely.”

She flinched at his words as your hand gripped his thigh. 

“I thought about you every day, Eddie.”, she whispered.

“Well, that’s good to know. While I was bleeding on the floor after the violent man you left me with knocked me out, it comforts me to know you didn’t forget about me.”, he growls before abruptly rising to his feet. “I need a minute.”

Nobody moves as he stomps towards his old bedroom and slams the door.

“Maybe this was a bad idea.”

“I mean, what did you expect, Lynn? You never came back for him like you said you would.”

“You told me you would take him, Wayne—”

“Don’t. Don’t push the blame on him.”, you warned. “The truth of the matter is you SAID you were coming back and you never did.”

“You don’t know what it was like…living with Allen…”

“You’re right. I don’t but thanks to you, your child does.”

You stand and Steve promptly trails after you as you carefully open Eddie’s door. Both of you found him sitting on his bed, smoking out the window like he used to when you three lived there. As you climbed in to sit beside him, his hand immediately shot out to stop you. 

“I wouldn’t get too close to me, sweetheart. I’m, uh, not all here.”, he lightly chuckles as his voice cracks.

Squaring your jaw in defiance, you climb in anyway and take his free hand in yours. 

“Like that’s going to stop me. I’m not afraid of you, Edward Munson.”

“You doing alright, dude?”, Steve asked as he sat on the edge of the mattress. 

“I’m, um, trying not to fall apart here. I really want to yell at her but I don’t…I don’t want her to think I’m like my dad.”

“Baby…”, you coo as you run your fingers through his hair. “You’re allowed to be angry. What she did wasn’t ok and you’re allowed to tell her that anyway you feel you need to.”

Eddie softly smiles as he tilts his head to kiss your lips and tosses his cigarette out the window. Taking your hand in his, the three of you leave his bedroom and back to the table where his mom and Wayne were still talking.

“—didn’t leave any kind of formal documentation for me to have him, Lynn. Did you really think Allen was just going to hand him over?”

“Why didn’t you come back?”, Eddie asked as soon as he sat down.

“I-I-I…your father was so aggressive. I couldn’t take it anymore, Eddie. I had to go—”

“I didn’t ask why you left. I asked why you didn’t come back. Even after he was arrested, you stayed away. Not even so much as a fucking postcard.”

She sighed as her eyes fell, trying to find the best way to answer his question. 

“Originally, I wanted to get things ready before you came to live with me. Eddie when I moved, those first few months I was practically making pennies as a waitress living in a studio apartment. I thought you would be better with Wayne. When I finally got settled, I guess that idea remained imprinted in my brain; that you would be happier with your uncle.”

The metalhead folded his arms across his chest as he glared at her. 

“Mom, I would have rather lived with you in a box on the street then anywhere with dad. You have no idea what he put me through.”

“I have some idea.”

“You. Have. No. Idea.”, he snarled. “I was a 10-year-old kid and you were a grown woman who knew what he would do to me if you left. Hell he hit me in front of you all the fucking time!”

“If I could go back in time and make a different decision I would! I don’t know what else I can say!”

“He doesn’t want you to say anything. He wants you to listen and understand.”, you cut in trying to be helpful.

“This is a family matter! I don’t know why you two are even here!”

“BECAUSE SHE IS MY FAMILY!”, Eddie roared causing his mother to lean back. “I love her. If I could marry her right now and give her my last name I would. She’s been there for me and actually sees me for me. To her I’m not ‘that Munson kid’. I’ve always just been Eddie.”

He gestures towards Steve. “This man is my best fucking friend and saved my life. Without him I wouldn’t even fucking be here. I love him like a brother and we take care of each other like we are.”

Eddie points past her towards his uncle. “Wayne took me in when YOU and Allen abandoned me. Even before you disappeared, I only ever felt safe with him. He’s raised me and not only taken care of me but these two as well when their parents abandoned them. Y/N’s lucky. Her parents admitted their mistakes and apologized for them. Steve and I don’t know what that’s fucking like. So, I guess the real point is, if this is a ‘family matter’ then you shouldn’t be here.”

Thunder clapped loudly as the power went out in the trailer.

“Shit. I don’t think anyone is going anywhere tonight. “, Wayne sighed. “Let’s, um, let’s call it a night yeah? Kids why don’t you take Eddie’s bedroom—”

“No. She can take my bedroom and we can sleep out here. If you still have that inflatable mattress.”, the man grumbled. 

***

You guys didn’t even need the mattress. Steve was the only one who was currently on it while you and Eddie were on the couch. He didn’t say much through the rest of the evening, just held you to his chest till you fell as sleep in his arms. As he sat there playing with your hair and gently caressing your legs, through the darkness in the living room he could just barely make out a figure headed for the front door. 

“You should have used my bedroom window. Lord knows I used that a bunch.”, he sighed as he used his lighter to light a candle near him, illuminating his mom’s face. 

“I, uh,…”

“No, no. I get it. I’ll tell them it was family emergency or something.”

Her eyes scanned him over softly as he continued to pet your hair behind your head. 

“She seems like a nice girl. Obviously loves you.”

“Yeah. She’s perfect…to me anyway.” His mother came around and took a seat on the other side of the sofa. “For that first year, I used to be terrified that she would leave me like you did. Now as I get older, sometimes I fear I’ll become like dad. Like there’s some dormant Munson gene that will snap into place at some point. Steve won’t say it out loud but I know he’s worried about the same thing…him becoming a prick like his father.”

“Eddie, you’re nothing like Allen.”

“Then why didn’t you come back for me?”

“Edward Munson, that had nothing to do with you. I swear on my life I never once thought you’d turn into him.”, she sighs as she leans back. “When you were a baby you always looked at me with these expressive eyes like you were taking in every little thing. Even when you got older… the night before I left, you gave me those same eyes but they were sadder. I felt like that was my fault. I brought you into this situation… he was hurting me and I was hurting you.”

“When I settled, I told myself I would send for you. Hell, I would even come and get you myself. When your grandma, my mom, told me Allen was arrested and you were with Wayne… that way you used to look at me flashed through my head. I thought ‘Maybe he’s better off with his uncle.”

“You could have sent me a letter at least or called…”

“I thought this was the best choice, Eddie. I genuinely did. I thought with me and your father out of your life now you can live yours to the fullest. I had no idea Allen had you alone after I left.”

Eddie nodded as he looked away, the gesture causing you to wake. You didn’t move or make any indication when you heard his mother’s voice.

“Eddie, I’m so sorry for what you went through. I really am. I’m not asking you to forgive me but whenever you’re ready I’d love to be a part of your life. Maybe you can come visit me…meet the kids.”

“Do they know about me?”

“Yeah and so does my husband. He’s, um, a bit of nerd but—” They both laugh and your heart explodes for him. “I’ll, um, let you get some sleep.” She pats his leg before standing and heading back towards his room. 

“Are you alright?”, you ask as you caress his face. 

“Hey. How long have you been awake?”

“Not long. What about you, Steve?”

“Jesus, woman. How did you know?”, the man rolls over to turn and face you both making you giggle. 

“I sleep beside you, remember? I know what you look like asleep.”

“Pfft. Yeah, she woke me up when I heard her shoes heading for the door.”

“So, us fucking doesn’t wake you up but my mom’s shoes did?”

“I’m on high alert, Munson. Like you said…” Steve sits up and pulls his knees to his bare chest. “We’re family. I don’t just protect her but you to, man.”

“Thanks, Harrington.”, Eddie smiles. “Yeah, baby, to answer your question. I’m alright.” 

You softly smile back at him when he kisses your forehead. 

“Come on. Let’s lay down.” Sliding off him, you take his hand and lead him down to the inflatable bed.

“You look really sexy in this by the way.”, he playfully whispers as he lightly tugs at the long, oversized shirt Wayne gave you to sleep in. After taking off his own shirt, he slid in beside you and Steve did the same. His uncle had had given them both shorts to sleep but the material was relatively flimsy. Both their cocks pressed against you and you couldn’t help licking your lips at the feeling. 

“Sir?” He answered you with a soft him as he pressed his nose to your cheek. “You can use me right now if you need to. I don’t mind. I know you’ve been through a lot today.” As you whisper your last sentence, his eyes open to look at yours, vaguely making them out in the dark. 

“You’ve already done a lot for me these past few days, sweetheart.”

“I know. I also know that when you both feel out of control…controlling me makes you feel better.” A heavy breath escapes his lips as your nose grazes his. “And you know I definitely don’t mind that.”

“You’d have to be very quiet, baby girl. We also know that when we fuck you rough like that you get loud.”, Steve tuts.

“I can be quiet, Daddy. I promise.”

“I don’t want to be rough. Not like that anyway…”

“Uh oh.” You place your palm on his forehead, feeling his smile stretch against your cheek. “Are you dying?”

Taking a hold of your wrist, he wraps your arm around his neck as his free hand pushes down his shorts to release his cock from their hold and you lift your leg, moaning lightly when he runs his mushroom tip along the fabric of your underwear blocking your core.

“Hey. When we first met you even you admitted sometimes you like it vanilla.”

“If there’s one thing you aren’t, baby, it’s vanilla.”, you cooed, repeating those words he said to you that first night back to him. 

Moving your underwear to the side, you both whimper as he slides into your entrance. His palm took hold of your thigh just below the back of your knee as he held it steady in the air. While he pumped into you at gentle but firm pace, he continually whispered things in your ear in a low, husky tone that had you clenching around him as you turned your head into the sound of his voice. 

“I love you, Y/N, so much. I love that you’re ours, baby. Fuck… not just because of how good this fucking pussy feels but because—mmm—you take care of us to. You love us for us. Tell me that you love me, princess.”

“I love you, Sir. Shit…just like that, baby, please.”

His hair brushes against your face as he shakes his head and thrusts his hips a bit harder into yours causing you to cling to the other boy’s wrist that was occasionally bumping into your side as he stroked his cock while he listened to you moan and whimper.

“Me… sweetheart. Tell me that you love me…please…”

You wished you could see his face better as you gripped his cheek and kissed his lips. Your thumb caressed along his features as you told him what he needed to hear. 

“I love you, Eddie Munson. Yes, baby. I belong to you, Eddie. It’s been a while since I’ve said that but I’ve never forgotten. Mmm! I’m yours. I’ll always be here for you. Always.” 

His breath warmed your face as he picked up his rhythm, hitting that spot inside of you that had you melting into him. Steve reached for your hand, running his tongue along your palm, and placed it around his length that throbbed in your grasp. You kissed his lips as the metalhead lightly bit into the area between your neck and shoulder, grunting when he felt your pussy flutter around him as you came.

Eddie clung to your body chasing his release until you mewled as he warmed your insides. The other boy quickly rose to his knees, stroking his cock till he came on your tummy. 

In the dark, he reached for your hand and both boys guided you into the bathroom. Just like old times, Steve hopped onto the counter while, Eddie got the shower started. Cupping his face in your hands, you leaned forward to tenderly kiss his lips. 

“I love you to, Steve Harrington. I’m yours and I’ll always be here for you.”, you whisper before he smiles and kisses you again. 

#############

“Hey Lynn. Good to see you’re still here.”, Wayne grinned sassily before handing her a cup of coffee.

She offers him a half smile and a polite thank you as she takes the cup from his hands. 

“Definitely a unique situation, huh?”, she asks as she gestures to where you three were sleeping. 

“I think what makes it more unique is that it’s genuine at such a young age. They’ve been really good for each other. When Steven started coming over, that’s when Eddie started getting out of his shell a bit more. Then they met Y/N and everything went up from there.”

“He said her parents were the only one to approve?”

“Not at first but after about a month they came around. Bill on the other hand…”

“Bill was always an asshole.”

“Yeah but I didn’t think he’d stoop so low as to call a young girl a whore who brainwashed his son.” He nodded when her eyes widened. “Oh, yeah. Don’t worry. Her father punched him in the face.”

“Good. Fuck him.” They both chuckled as they drank their beverages. 

After you guys woke up, Wayne made breakfast while casual conversation was made with Eddie telling his mother all things you three had done together like your trip to New York and the prom they had created for you. As the afternoon came to a close, Lynn had to leave and the metalhead walked her to her car while you and Steve hung back. 

“I’ll call you when I land and we can set up a time for you three to come visit.”, she grins.

Without a word, Eddie leans forward to hug her and you smile as you watch her circle her arms around him as she holds him tightly to her tiny frame.

***

“I stole this from your room.”, you announce as you hand the Wizard of Oz book to Eddie who was leaning outside of his window in your apartment smoking. “Your uncle said it was like your security blanket.”

“Shit. Yeah it was. I didn’t even realize I left it.

Steve came up behind you, taking you in his arms and resting his chin on your head as you leaned against him. 

“Why that book?”, he asked.

“It was the first book I remember my mother reading to me. It’s also the first time I remember my dad coming home drunk screaming about some mundane shit. It was nice being able to disappear into a fantasy land for a time. As I got older, I guess it just…made me feel safe.”

His eyes glance towards you both before flipping absently through the pages. 

“When my mom left I would read it to myself especially during those first six months. Allen was, uh, really ruthless.”

Eddie spent the rest of the evening opening up to you and Steve about what happened to him. When he finished, he seemed so much lighter as if a weight had been lifted from his chest. You made him dinner while they both played some fighting game on the expensive console they saved up for.  When we went to bed that night he held you tightly to his side while he played with your hair. 

“Y/N?” You answered with a soft hm to which he responded by tenderly kissing your forehead. “Thank you.”

###########

@manda-panda-monium @sherrylyn628 @eddiesguitarskills

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@paleidiot @mrsjellymunson

[keldae]

Musings

Gale couldn't remember the last time he had slept with someone – spending his time asleep wrapped in a lover's arms had been before Mystra. He hadn't ever needed to sleep when he was with his goddess in her realm, and she would never have come to the mortal planes to spend an entire night with him. So sharing his bedroll now was… unusual.

Not a bad type of unusual, he admitted to himself. But still unusual. And it was even more unusual that he hadn't had relations with his bed partner yet – that hadn't ever been a situation he'd found himself in, during the years before Mystra.

But then, with the orb in his chest… having sex was out of the question.

Unable to shut his mind off, he propped his head up on his pillow, looking down at the half-Elf who had stolen his blankets, and was trying to steal his heart. Devi was dead to the world, squished tightly against Gale's side, coppery hair loose around her head. Gale smiled fondly down at the little half-Elf, watching as a few strands of her hair moved with every slow breath past her parted lips. 

What are you seeing in your dreams tonight, Devi? he thought, gazing down at the thief. Hopefully her dreams were pleasant tonight. He didn't think she'd had a bad nightmare since they'd started sleeping together in the Underdark – he definitely had had pleasant dreams while sharing his tent and bedroll with her. Are you in Baldur's Gate, thriving as a little thief? Or are you thinking of the halfling and the dwarves from the book we read tonight? She had seemed to enjoy the story he had read to her.

Devi shifted slightly, rolling onto her side, facing Gale. Before he was quite aware of it, he was reaching to gently brush the loose strands of hair out of her face, tucking the locks behind one delicately pointed ear. His thumb touched her lips, slowly tracing the outline of her mouth. For a moment, he felt an unspeakable yearning for the woman sleeping beside him. If her thoughts during their lesson in the Weave were any indication, she wanted to kiss Gale, despite his affliction – and gods knew he desperately wanted to give her that kiss. He wanted to know what it would feel like to press his lips against hers, to let his tongue meet her own, to taste her mouth and breathe in her exhales as he fulfilled the vision she had shared with him of a kiss…

He closed his eyes, trying to force his mind away from the dangerous thoughts of kissing the woman with him. He'd spent the last year struggling to stabilise the orb – he couldn't risk his mental discipline failing him now. If he killed them all because of letting himself think too much, too enthusiastically, of kissing a beautiful girl… He wanted to groan in frustration.

Except that would have woken Devi up. He settled for silently scolding himself instead. Get a grip, Dekarios!

Besides, Devi wouldn't – couldn't – truly love a broken man like Gale was. He was older than she was, by quite a few years – and in trying to keep up with her youthful half-Elven exuberance, he definitely felt every tenday of his age in comparison to her. And he was irreparably broken, only a shadow of the man and wizard he had been a year and a half ago. He was the reject of a goddess, damned by his own foolishness, and doomed to meet an explosive end alone. 

In comparison, Devi was young, and full of life and fire and optimism. She had had a poor start in life – any child born poor in the Lower City of Baldur's Gate had a disadvantage. But she was smart, and stubborn, and if she was given the correct support, she could exceed any expectations for a girl born as a poor urchin. Maybe, Gale thought, he could leave a note leaving his wealth to her after he met his unavoidable end? Or he could just give her the key to his tower in Waterdeep before he inevitably had to leave the party to die somewhere safer. If she could cure her tadpole, maybe she could live on, somewhere safer than Baldur's Gate. And it would be a good use for the money and wealth he had, rather than leaving it all to rot. It wasn’t like Tara would really be able to use it, after all.

But he digressed. Devi was too young for him to pursue romantically, too vibrant, too lively to tie herself to a damned man. In another life, if they had ever even crossed paths, they would never have given each other a second thought (unless Devi had identified him as a pickpocketing target… which, Gale knew she would have targeted him in a heartbeat.). Even if he hadn't been damned, they were in entirely different social circles. Imagine the scandal, if he were to return to Waterdeep with an uneducated, uncouth, younger Baldurian thief, and one who could swear like a well-educated mercenary at that, as his lover! 

Gale grinned for a moment, imagining the reactions of some of his more class-conscious peers. His amusement faded with a sigh as he looked back down at Devi. You don't deserve as grim a fate as tying yourself to me would give you, he thought. You're too alive and hopeful to bind yourself to a broken, damned man. In another life, one where he wasn't a walking explosive, he might have still taken her to bed, trying to perhaps prove that being this much older than her just meant he was more experienced with pleasing a lover. And he was pretty certain he had pleased Mystra when he was the goddess’s lover – he could have wowed Devi with his command of the Weave in bed. He had already impressed her with their magic lesson after the tiefling party, and that had been tame! What he could have done behind a sound dampening ward to blow her away and make her cry out his name in bliss, over and over again…

Speaking of blowing away, he firmly turned his thoughts away from the idea of bedding Devi, thinking about spell incantations instead. The orb rumbled in his chest, but remained calm for the moment as his heart settled back down.

With another sigh, he stroked Devi's hair back from her face again. Where will your mind take you tonight? Will you dream of me? You really shouldn't – I'm a dead man walking. You deserve better than a broken heart. Although, wasn't he bold, to think that Devi might care for him the way he did her? What could he possibly offer her besides his knowledge of the arcane? He was doomed twice over – once from the illithid tadpole, and once from his own idiocy. She at least still had a chance at a normal life once she was cured of the tadpole. 

Tomorrow, he decided, he would start trying to distance himself from her. It would hurt her in the short term, and it would be agony for him, but it was for the best. She deserved better than to develop affections for a man who had nothing before him but an explosive death. Maybe he could subtly point her in the direction of Wyll – the warlock, despite his devilish appearance, was a good man. He was certainly a better man than the wizard who had tried to advance himself beyond mortal limitations to impress a goddess – and even with Wyll’s pact to a devil, he had a hope for a future beyond a destructive death alone. And he was younger, and handsome, and full of life and vigour, and could crack a joke to make even Devi groan while she was laughing…

Gods, this was already breaking Gale's heart.

But Devi would be happy with Wyll. Or maybe Shadowheart, if Wyll didn’t strike her fancy – the two half-Elves seemed to have a close connection already. Even if Shadowheart was a Sharran, Devi didn't seem to think less of her for it. Or Karlach, as boisterous and friendly as she was, would be a good match for the feisty little thief.

None of them were a depressed middle-aged wizard who had already exceeded his potential and his usefulness to Faerûn. 

Gale sighed yet again and started to roll away from Devi onto his side, trying to get some sleep. In the morning he would talk to Devi, and see if the thief would be receptive to the idea of spending her nights apart from him. Certainly, she would be upset at first – Gale fully expected to get slapped. But she had to see the logic eventually, right? She was more than smart enough, even if she was uneducated –

At his side, Devi softly moaned in protest of his movements. Her hand reached up, grabbing his shirt and pulling him down on his back again. Before Gale could do anything, the little half-Elf wrapped her arm around his stomach and settled her head on his chest, squirming until she was comfortable. Once she was satisfied with her human pillow, she sighed and draped her leg over his before she fell fully back to sleep, peacefully lost in her dreams.

Shit. This was not doing a damn thing to help Gale reconcile himself to letting go of her. She felt so damn good beside him, warm and snuggly, tucked under his arm where she belonged. How in the Nine Hells was he supposed to separate himself from her when she did things like this to him? His heart twisted in his chest at how serenely innocent she looked. She trusted him enough to sleep with him, even with the orb in his chest that could kill them all in an instant. Hells, she was sleeping on him now, only inches from the ugly markings he bore!

And she didn't seem to be bothered by that in the slightest.

“Why do you do this to me?” Gale whispered to the woman at his side. Giving up, he wrapped his arm around her, holding her closer to him. Was it his imagination, or did a little smile flicker over her lips as she felt him embrace her? He inwardly groaned – there was no way he could force himself to let go of her, or make her let go of him, when she so effortlessly held his heart in her hands. He was dooming her, every night that he slept with her, every time he read a book for her, every time he gave her a kind word or a smile or a gentle touch.

She would never let go of him in the way she needed to, in order to save herself from him and his grim fate. And Gale knew she would only call him a “self-destructive hopeless idiot”, or something similar, and cling tighter to him if he tried to talk to her about this and make her see sense.

Was she wrong, though?

Frustrated, Gale closed his eyes again and tried to will himself to sleep. Perhaps in the morning, he could think of a way to gently turn Devi from him and to a partner who actually had a future. It would break his heart, but it was better than dragging her down with him.

But maybe he could allow himself one more night of holding Devi against his heart and wishing he could safely confess his love for her. He sighed, forcing himself to resist the urge to kiss her hair, or her forehead, or those perfect lips. If he started kissing her even innocently right now, he knew he wouldn't be able to stop, not until the orb ended him. But gods, he wished he could… He could have died happy while kissing her, but it wasn't worth the risk he posed to everyone else in a ten-mile radius. Nobody else deserved to die while he indulged himself in kissing the woman he wanted – especially not the woman in question.

He sighed, shifting as much as he dared until he was comfortable under Devi. His other hand came up to slowly card his fingers through her loose hair, a soothing motion that made her contentedly hum in her sleep. Dammit, Devi, he thought, you make it too easy for me to love you.

That thought made him blink his eyes open again. Was this…? He thought for a moment, then sighed. Yes – this was love he felt for the woman in his arms. This was adoration, and devotion, and more than a bit of strongly-denied lust. He wanted her in every way possible – emotionally, and in spirit, and yes, physically too. 

But he wanted her safe and happy, even more than he wanted her with him. If you really love her, then you have to let her go, he tried to tell himself. Doesn't she deserve better than to be with you? Wyll would make her happy.

But what if she doesn't want Wyll? What if–

He firmly shut down the little voice in his mind before it could make the suggestion that maybe the woman in his arms wanted him. Nobody with any sense would want the older, broken, damned man that he was.

Then again, just that day, Astarion had been very enthusiastic in telling Devi that she had no sense, or self-preservation instincts, whatsoever…

Shut up. He scowled, then tugged the blankets up a little higher over himself and Devi. Just go to sleep. With any luck, Devi will see the truth herself without any prodding. And if she doesn't… it will hurt, but it will save her in the long term to break from her.

He sighed, then settled in to sleep, savouring what he was determined would be his last night holding the woman he loved.

—

Only a couple of hours later, Gale awoke to the sound of a whimper. He opened his eyes, frowning into the darkness of his tent until he heard a stifled sob from the half-Elf in his arms. He mumbled the incantation for a light cantrip, looking at Devi with anxiety spiking in his chest.

She didn't appear to be hurt. But her brow was furrowed as if she was in pain, and she was shaking. “Stop…” she whispered, flinching from something only she could see. “Please…”

Worried, Gale gently shook her shoulder. “Devi,” he lowly said, softly calling her name. “You're dreaming. You need to wake up.”

Devi didn't seem to hear him. She flinched again as though she'd been struck. “No,” she begged whoever was tormenting her. “You're hurting me!”

Gale shook her again, fear making the motion a little harder. “Devi,” he spoke her name again, a little louder. “Wake up, darling. I have you – you're safe. Wake up.”

His words didn't seem to be getting through. Devi whimpered again, her fingers tightening in Gale's shirt. “Please… help me… stop!” Her next words made Gale's heart twist in his chest. “No! Not Gale! Please!”

“Shhhh.” Gale shook her again and pressed his lips to her hair. “It's all right, darling. You're safe. Wake up now.” He lowered his lips to her ear as she whimpered again. “Wake up, Devi. You're safe… you're safe. I promise. Wake up. Wake up!”

Devi's twitching and flinching finally slowed, then stopped as Gale kept kissing her hair and whispering soothing reassurances to her. He finally felt her clutch his shirt a little tighter as she turned her head up to him. “Gale?” she whispered, her voice tiny and broken.

“I'm here,” Gale murmured, relief washing through his veins. “I have you. You're safe – it was just a dream, dear one. You're perfectly safe.”

“Oh, gods.” Still shaking, Devi buried her face in the crook of Gale's neck, clinging to him. “You were… you were…”

“Shhh,” Gale whispered. “I'm here.” He took her hand, guiding it to rest over his beating heart so she could feel his pulse. “I’m here. You’re all right – and so am I. Just breathe.” He heard a little sob from the woman he was holding, and felt his heart break for her. “Shhh. Breathe with me, Devi. Can you feel me breathing?” He waited until she nodded into his neck. “That’s my girl. Breathe with me, darling.” He focused on taking slow, calming breaths to make his chest move enough for her to easily feel him. For the first few breaths, Devi couldn’t quite match his slow breathing – stifled sobs made her body jerk unevenly under his arm. But as the minutes passed, she seemed to find his rhythm with breathing, her inhales slowly coming to match his as she calmed down from her nightmare. 

“Thank you,” she finally mumbled, slowly pulling her face out of his neck. There was a suspicious wetness on her cheeks that told Gale she’d been crying into his skin; indeed, he could feel her tears on him. “I’m sorry–”

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for,” Gale murmured, stroking his thumb over her cheekbone. He offered her a small, reassuring smile. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Devi started to shake her head, then hesitated, fidgeting with the hem of the blanket. “I… told you how my father’s a gods-damned bastard that not even the hells want?” she asked, her voice low and quiet. 

Gale nodded. “You’ve told me he’s a terrible person and you plan on dancing on his grave when he dies,” he softly answered. “Or using his grave for a latrine. Perhaps both.”

Devi made a little sound that Gale thought was trying to be a laugh, a laugh mingled with a sob. “He deserves it. He and his friends, they…” She took a shaky breath, not looking at Gale’s face. “They were hurting me, and then they… they decided to hurt you when you appeared in the dream — I think you were trying to save me? But they… gods, the things they did…” 

“Shhh.” Gale pulled Devi’s face back into the crook of his neck; she went to him willingly, clinging to him. “We’re both all right – there’s nothing to be afraid of in this tent.” Except the orb, and the tadpoles, and the threat of the Absolute, and the small-but-still-present risk that Mystra would simply spontaneously detonate the orb in Gale’s chest to kill him and everyone around him – Gale shook his head. “We’re safe here. Nobody can hurt you when I’m here to protect you.” 

“They hurt you,” Devi mumbled. “They were hurting you, and they were going to kill you, and–”

“Shhh. It was just a bad dream, darling. I’m entirely unhurt, and so are you.” Gale hesitated for a moment, then chuckled. “And you can tell your subconscious that I don’t fear a thief and his henchmen. I might be outnumbered, but I would make them regret facing me before falling.”

Devi trembled again in his arms. “You couldn’t fight,” she whispered, quiet enough that Gale almost couldn’t hear her. “You… you were trying to save me. If you had fought them… they would have hurt me more.”

Apparently Devi’s subconscious knew Gale well enough to know that this was a truth about him. If that nightmare had been reality… Gale knew he would have stopped fighting the instant it became clear that his resistance would have endangered the woman he loved. “Shhh,” he murmured, stroking her hair. “It was just a dream. Your father can’t hurt either of us here.” 

He felt Devi slowly nod, but she still clung to him, shaking like a leaf. He suspected that she was probably too scared to easily go back to sleep. With a grunt, he reached out for the book they had been reading earlier that evening – or rather, that he had been reading to her. Nudging the lights to where he could more easily see the pages, he opened the book back where they had left off. “Shall I try to get your mind back onto a more soothing subject?” he asked. At her hesitant nod, he kissed her hair again, then started quietly reading the next chapter. The halfling and dwarves had been caught by ogres, and were being argued over by said ogres who couldn’t decide how to cook them properly. It was one of Gale’s favourite scenes in the book, and Devi seemed to be entranced by the story normally. Indeed, she seemed to calm down as he read to her, shifting from having her face buried in his neck, to resting her cheek on his shoulder. 

As Gale came to the end of the chapter, he looked down to see Devi’s eyes closed and her lips slightly parted again, her breathing soft and slow. He wasn’t sure when she had fallen asleep again, but he was grateful that she had found rest. Careful to not disturb her, he replaced the bookmark in the pages, then set the book back down and extinguished the lights over their heads. Devi grunted as he slowly rested on the pillow again, then snuggled up as closely as she could to him.

Gale sighed softly, running his hand over her hair soothingly. Apparently this was the gods’ way of foiling his plan to break apart from Devi before anything could begin with them. Who else was going to cuddle the little half-Elf after her nightmares? Who else would read to her to get her mind off her fear again? Try as Gale might, he couldn’t imagine Devi snuggling up so closely to Wyll, or Shadowheart, or Karlach, or any of their other friends in the party. For some reason, she had chosen Gale, doomed and damned as he was.

Guilt and hope surged in equal amounts in his heart – guilt because he was dragging Devi down with him, and hope because maybe he wasn’t quite as broken and useless as he believed himself to be. Maybe Devi saw something in him that he couldn’t see or acknowledge himself.

It would have been easier if she didn’t see anything in him, he thought. 

He yawned and let himself cuddle Devi closely, doing his best to make sure she felt protected and safe in his arms. “No harm will come to you if I can help it,” he promised her in a whisper. “You are safe with me.” Closing his eyes, he rested his cheek on her hair and let himself fall back asleep, praying that Devi’s dreams for the rest of the night (and his, he supposed) would be peaceful.

If you dream of me again, dear one… dream of the happiness that I can’t give you in reality. Please don’t dream of either of us suffering for the other, he thought before sleep reclaimed him.