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bg-brainrot · 3 months

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Would You Still Love Me? (Astarion x Tav)

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Summary: When you ask the question, 'would you still love me if I were a worm?' Astarion's response surprises you in more ways than one.

Tags: POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, silly goofy mood, act 3 unascended Astarion

Word count: ~1.7k

You’re chatting with Astarion over dinner at the Elfsong when a question strikes you. It’s an odd one, and you’re not sure if you should ask it. Your curiosity builds as you consider Astarion’s possible answers though and, by the next lull in conversation, you can’t help yourself.

“Astarion?” you ask, spearing a potato on your plate.

The vampire swirls his wine glass, watching the red liquid fall into place before answering, “Yes, dear?”

“Would you still love me if I were a worm?” The question spills out of you, sounding even sillier than it did in your head.

Your lover blinks at you, as if he couldn’t possibly have heard that properly. But when your expression doesn’t change, your eye contact doesn’t drop, no admission of jest is to be seen, he finally says, “Darling, what kind of ludicrous question is that?”

“Well, would you?” you counter, pointing at him with your fork before popping the potato in your mouth.

His face grows pensive as he thinks. It’s a few seconds later before he asks a follow up question, “What type of worm?”

You finish chewing as you think of the worms you know. Not many admittedly– life in the city meant that free patches of earth are few and far between. So you answer the only worm that truly comes to mind, “The earthworm kind.”

“And I would know that it’s you?” he asks, leaning forward now. It seems like he’s invested in the question now, despite his initial reaction.

You nod, as if that’s a given. “Yes, you saw me transform.”

“Hells, I was hoping I could pretend not to know,” he says with a smirk.

“Wicked man,” you retort, shooting him a responding smile.

Astarion’s face looks thoughtful again as he considers the developing situation. “Could I turn you back?”

Now you shake your head vehemently. What use was the exercise if magic would fix you? “No, nothing could turn me back. I’m simply a worm from now on.”

“Hmm, and are you certain that you would love me?” He raises an eyebrow at you in challenge, as if he’s cornered you in your own mischievous little game.

“Of course,” you answer immediately. “I don’t think my little worm brain would be able to think of much else.”

“How sweet… I think,” he says, cocking his head. You suppose it is, though you had meant it as fact. “Well then, one final question, if you would?”

You nod, gesturing for him to continue with your fork. “Go ahead, I’m an open book. Or worm, in this case.”

“How long do worms live?”

You blink, having not expected such a question from him– and truthfully also due to not knowing the answer. “I don’t know. Maybe Halsin would?”

Astarion locates the druid, sitting a few tables away talking to Wyll and Karlach. He raises his voice to be overheard in the din of the tavern. “Halsin, be a dear, how long do earthworms live?”

“A fantastic question, Astarion!” The druid’s voice carries easily with excitement. “It truly depends on the conditions of the worm, but anywhere from a few years up to eight years.”

You balk at that fact. A worm can live how long?

“I’m happy to tell you all about ideal soil conditions–”

Astarion cuts the man off with a loud, “Thank you!” Then he turns back to you. “Well, there you have it.”

“Have what?” you ask in response, confused at the turn in conversation.

“You would live at most eight years. I’m immortal, my love. I think I can manage less than a decade of loving a worm,” he says, rolling his eyes at you.

You’re not sure how to take the casual way that he speaks of your impending wormy death, but you find it oddly comforting to know that he would in fact still love you. You honestly hadn't expected that. “So you’d keep me around? Made sure I stayed healthy and safe?”

He nods, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. “Naturally.”

You can’t help but laugh at the idea of him keeping you as a pet worm. It seems almost unbelievable. “You wouldn’t throw me into the nearest patch of dirt? Or worse yet, let a bird take me?”

“Gods below, dear,” Astarion responds, aghast, putting a hand over his heart as if he’s been truly, deeply offended. “I would never.” Then he gets a far off look in his eyes and adds, “Well, maybe never. I suppose it depends on if I needed you as bait. But I’m certain I would be able to rescue you after the fact.”

“I would allow it,” you say, with a short nod. “If you’re using me as bait, it’s likely for good reason.”

"And after you pass? I would miss you terribly of course," he says solemnly, with his most maudlin, tragic expression.

"You'd better. And I expect the best soil for my burial," you say, pointing your fork at him threateningly.

“Of course, darling,” he says, only the hint of his smile visible from behind his wine glass. He takes a sip and looks at you again. “Now, why would you ask such a thing?”

You shrug, entirely convinced it was just a passing thought. But, as you poke and prod at your food, you find yourself answering, “I don’t know. What if, before this all ends, something happens to me. I already come with my own scars and problems, gods know how much worse it can get.”

Astarion stares at you over his wine glass, processing what you've just said before responding, "My love, believe it or not, I'm a vampire. I have 'scars and problems' of my own. If you think that anything could happen to you that I wouldn't be able to handle, you'd be sorely mistaken."

You hadn't expected him to say such words so sincerely, and you find yourself a bit taken aback. You love each other, you'd said as much on the night Astarion had been freed from Cazador, but it still feels a bit intimidating to know how deep that love could run. Apparently earthworm deep.

The idea that this man, who would rather bathe in blood than touch an inch of dirt, would continue to love you? Well, despite the inane premise, you find the warmth in your heart to feel very real.

"What about you, darling?" he asks, pulling you out of your thoughts. "If I were to become a worm, what would you do?"

You answer quickly, "Easy. I would still love you, probably keep you on my person, and offer you blood or other sustenance when you need it."

Astarion looks at you aghast. "Sweet hells, do not put me in your pocket."

"And why not? I would be extremely careful, and then I would never lose you," you respond, explaining yourself logically. "Besides, even as a worm, who knows what kind of trouble you'd get yourself into."

"I should be saying that to you," he says, placing his wine glass on the table, serious now. "I can't believe you would put me in danger like that. I fully expect you to place me somewhere nice, like the lawn of some pampered Upper City noble."

You think about his proposition for a second before shaking your head. "But then I couldn't take care of you. What if you get stepped on?"

Astarion considers your counterargument with narrowed eyes. “Ugh, fine. I shall stay in your pocket. But I expect you to clean it regularly. And I demand that you get a new lining for it. Silk, preferably.”

“Easy enough to do,” you say, nodding along. “You would be most comfortable worm this side of the Chionthar.”

At that, the man looks pleased, picks his wine glass back up, and reclines back in his seat. “Good. And, for what it’s worth, I'm sure you would make a very cute worm.”

You’re not sure if that’s meant to be a compliment or an insult, but you suspect it’s the former. “Thank you,” you say, smiling at your lover. “You would make a dashing worm yourself.”

“Are you both expecting to turn into worms any time soon?” you hear from behind you. You turn around to see Halsin standing tall over you. His tone is friendly, warm as he continues, “I would be happy to take care of either of you.”

You can’t help the blush of embarrassment that comes over your face. You’re also not sure how to take the words. Is he asking to adopt you both, as worms? Gods, how did you end up here… So you look back to Astarion who is now shooting you a look that says, Now look what you’ve done.

“Err, no Halsin. It was just an odd little conversation we were having. Sorry to cause you any confusion.”

“No need to apologize, my friend,” he replies. “Though if you ever do need help, you know where to find me.” He gives you both an affectionate smile before heading off.

While it’s nice to know that others would care enough to take care of you as a worm, you’d meant the question to be solely for Astarion. You’re left burying your face in your hands to hide your shame.

“So, darling… what did we learn?”

“To never ask Halsin about earthworms,” you mumble through your fingers.

Astarion gives you a ‘tsk’ before responding. “No, my dear. If either of us turns into a worm, we must hide that fact from Halsin." He scrunches his nose in distaste before continuing, "I refuse to live in whatever healthy soil he’s found for us.”

You snort at Astarion’s conclusion, but still find yourself agreeing. “Fair enough. Better yet, let’s try to keep ourselves at the very least bipedal.” The two of you share a laugh, but in the back of your mind you’re already thinking of your next question. I wonder if he would still love me if I were a mimic? I suppose there’s only one way to find out.

#astarion x tav #astarion #fanfic #rogue + rogue #astarion x reader #astarion fluff #would you still love me if i was a worm?#there's no right answer ofc

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springbon-t-art · 10 months

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A little drawing i made for myself, of Aurelia and the neighboors Sally, Julie and Wally! inspired by the Wish Festival and the flower lanterns

i like how this one turned out :)

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST

#LMAO #welcome home #welcome home oc #the wish festival from...cookie run ofc...#wally darling #julie joyful #sally starlet #home #my artwork #thanks for all the birthday wishes btw!#i will try to answer all of them #this is my new banner now HAHAHAHAHAH

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cuethediscoandthedrinks · 1 year

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being a little slut for tonowari and cupping his balls in public, getting him all riled up.

could be sub or dom abt it.

agreed, this bby needs it tbh. (っˆڡˆς)

tonowari x teased in heat ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ｡⋆

• and yes, despite being a pleasure/soft dom his knees 100% fkin cripple when you cup his big daddy bear balls, yk?

• maybe you're sat by the seashore early in the morning, just taking in the beautiful hues of pink and yellow, the fresh breeze and salty air. tonowari's laying his head in your lap as you stroke gentle circles on his tattooed blue skin

• initially you'd leave it there, but this bby's little sighs and subtle huffs catch in your ears; you could smell the change in scent ofc, but didn't want to pressure him into telling you that he was in heat, but a little playing wouldn't hurt, yk?

• continuing to brush his thick brown locks with your left hand, using your right hand you lightly feathered your touches along the side of his body. first his jaw, then his neck, his muscled shoulder and chest, lightly brushing along one of his perked up nipples as you went--and the quiet gasp of surprise didn't escape your ears, ofc

• then you went further down, leaving little firm gropes to his pouched tummy and thick, squishy thighs; only to gently splay your long blue fingers across his hardening girthy cock and balls

• tonowari's breathing had picked up ofc, the poor papa bear's heat only worsening as your fingers skittered across his body. he'd just close his eyes, almost willing his cock to calm down; balls to soften and relax; heartbeat to slow, but to no avail

• his wide, light blue tail batted against the sand with a badly-cloaked sense of urgency; you knew he was hoping you'd catch on, which meant this bby still didn't know that you already had.

• he'd closed his eyes, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, nuzzling his pretty face into the crook of your pelvis. "..um'ma..love you..l-love you, um'ma..mhnhhm.." he'd lowly whine into you, as his hips began lightly gyrating into your hand

• you'd decided that granting him such a gift of release wouldn't be right, considering all the punishing he'd been doing to you this past week. be it bending you over his knee, laying hard smacks to your bruised ass,

• or making you take him deep into your throat, your muffled gags vibrating up the length of his pulsing blue cock; or even making you lick up his strings of saliva as he spit into your open mouth. with that in mind, this daddy deserved a taste of his own medicine.

• using your index, middle and ring fingers, you cupped his weighty balls in your hand; fingertips brushing extra firmly up against the base of his sack, as your thumb stroked the hilt of tonowari's now throbbing cock. his small whines had since devolved into throaty moans and desperate gasps merely at the prospect of cumming

• his balls had tensed, lightly pulsing in your palm as you began leaving hot open-mouthed kisses to his exposed neck and cheek. this sweet bby only keened into your touches; little low mewls rippling through your body, reaching your spread legs as he hummed into your clothed pussy. likely he could smell just how much his movements and sounds affected you, too

• "..hmhm..you g'na be a good daddy for me, sweetheart?..i don't want you cumming just yet, i want to hear those beautiful noises, ok up'pa?" you'd lovingly hum into his ear in between sloppy kisses and wet lovebites--"..y-yes, um'ma..unhhnhh..t-touch..more, please um'ma.."

• the poor love would only squirm and mewl further as you begin fondling and bouncing his heavy sack in your hand, your left fingers intertwining in his thick locks; you lightly tugged on the braids as you coaxed out all this handsome babyboy's pretty sounds, watching his brows knit together, his face forming an almost pleasureful grimace at your ministrations--"..i know, sweetheart..so pretty for me, such a good love for me.."

i want a lil sub!wari to grope and fondle aaaaa 🥺

#meant to be a lil answer #but ofc like usual any tonowari content makes me write #a lot #idc he's hot/cute/adorable/sexy/fkin thick/daddy/baby/papa bear/babygirl #tonowari x reader #tonowari x y/n #tonowari x you #tonowari x ronal #tonowari smut #avatar smut #avatar x reader #na'vi smut #na'vi x reader #jake sully x you #jake sully smut #jake sully x reader #miles quaritch x afab reader #miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch smut

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bigshotautos · 3 months

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I really like your theory about Spamton basically haunting a mannequin after death. Have you ever touched upon the reaction from Jevil (or anyone, really) upon seeing the new Spamton? Especially considering Spamton isn't even aware he 'died'.

^ how i think jevil's first sight of Spamton would go. i love this ask. this is referring to some headcanons I made a while back, I'll link it here for the one post and the general ghost spamton theory is linked in that one as well. Going to elaborate on it more under the cut for those interested + more art.

In general I think that people from Spamton's past wouldn't really care if they notice at all, since he wasn't in the business of making close friends with anyone. With the Addisons, in my interpretation he had a "weird co-worker" relationship with them, and while Addisons in general treated each other like potential business competitors that they had to make-nice with, Spamton is especially easy to single out for being visibly and temperamentally different. His altered, current state is something they'd feel at least uncomfortable by, but many wouldn't have been too close with him to begin with for them to talk about it with him directly. Would get whispered about between each other for sure, like we saw with them talking about Spamton after the NEO fight. It moves him from the "disgraced guy I used to know" category to the "actually unpleasant to look at or think about" territory. This goes for Swatch, Queen, and Seam (less so), who seem to buy heavily into the Lightner and Darkner dynamic, with Spamton corrupting the Lightner's dream being a strong taboo against what it means to be a Darkner.

As for what Jevil thinks, Spamton during the NEO fight is both a beautiful and horrifying display. Jevil at this point hasn't seen him in years since his imprisonment, and in their time apart Jevil has grown to find novelty in the cage that everyone else besides him is in since he's created huge emotional distance between him and the reality he lives in. Seeing the fact that Spamton had corrupted an abandoned dream of a Lightner and was causing so much chaos to the established order of the world would be exhilarating, but at the same time seeing that Spamton had accomplished this and still had his strings visible (and changed to a marionette puppet with no symbolic agency), it'd be a painful confirmation of his worldview that even Spamton, who deep down he still cares for, could never have been free.

Jevil would think at first he'd just gone through some nebulous situation to change what he looks like, since ofc he himself has toy-like traits (arguable if that happened with Gasterfication or not), Seam is a plushie cat, and other Card Castle Darkners are based on toys, but feeling the lack of life combined with the symbolic body of Spamton would mean to him something bigger had went wrong. He wouldn't dare to bring it up in an empathetic way, stuck in his mindset that it doesn't matter, but it'd still hit a part of him he doesn't like to think still exists. It's something he gets over quickly, almost performatively going back to fucking with him and taking advantage of his fear for entertainment, but it didn't sit well at first.

To me, the fact Spamton "died" isn't really a huge deal, kind of like with the ghosts in Undertale where no one really cares they're just ghosts. They're just doing their thing. To me it'd be fine if neither of them find out what happened for certain, but it's something that adds Flavor to his character.

#asks #deltarune #spamton #jevil #SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO ANSWER ANON LOL. its been a month or something #i asked tumblr user funnywormz for consulation on this for his thoughts as well since he's my accomplice in ghost spamton truthers #my art #ofc this is all just my internal worldview on the thing it's by no means definitive but its just for Fun!#btw as for queen im hardly even joking i think she would have deleted spamton from her memory banks because he was so sucks.#also in the image up top susie cant hear jevil saying this shit it definitely wouldnt have helped.#i think darkners can detect the itemized darkners but lightners cant like with tasque manager and spamneo noticing jevil

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tkwrites · 2 months

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I can't belive you're here. - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Photo from Pinterest

Title: I can't believe you're here.

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts

Warnings: Unprotected sex - p in v (wrap it up unless you’re in a consenting relationship!), Captain kink unlocked, oral & fingering (f receiving), squirting, swearing, surprise visit, if I missed anything, please let me know.

Summary: After a very long time apart due to bad timing, Sarah surprises Quinn on the road. Wearing his jersey, she fulfills one of his long harbored fantasies. The night just gets better when he sees what she has on underneath.

Word Count: 6,000

Comments:

Hoo boy. This is by far the most depraved thing I’ve written. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

If you did enjoy it, please let me know! Your comments and questions inspire me to keep writing!

To the lovely anon who requested this: I hope it lives up to your expectations. I had so much fun writing it.

Anonymous asked: 'In some ways, he’d love to see his name across her back, but not at a game.' Ohhh, I'd love to see something about this in the future. Later on in their relationship, he's on a roadie and not seen Sarah for 4 weeks due to it and some study trip prior. He has just played either Brady or his brothers who noticed he's really down and missing her, they call Sarah and organise to fly her to his next destination to suprise him after the game. She's waiting in his hotel room, wearing nothing but his jersey to cheer him up after a loss 😉 Or a more wholesome storyline of her first WAG jacket or something aha Absolutely love all your pieces and can't wait to continue reading of their universe xx

I can't believe you're here.

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

Fatigue and failure were deep in his bones as he walked into the hotel.

Logically, Quinn knew winning streaks always come to an end. It was impossible to have a perfect 82 game season. No one had ever come close to that.

It didn't matter how much he tried to reason, it still felt like shit to be on the receiving end of a shut out after two straight losses.

The fact that they were still on the road didn’t help. The fourteen day trek away from home was always terrible, no matter when it fell in the season, but having it come right after Sarah had to be at a conference was torture. It meant he hadn’t seen her in over 12 days.

It was terrible timing. The day after he got back from the six day Midwest road trip, she left for a seven day ocean conservation conference in Costa Rica. She got back two days after he had to leave again.

It had been nineteen long days since he'd seen her for more than twenty four hours.

They talked and sent messages and photos, but it wasn’t the same as talking face to face and kissing her and feeling her skin and smelling her perfume.

He’d learned from the past and brought her pillowcase with him, but even that was beginning to smell less and less like her.

He only had to get through three more games and five and a half more days before he'd be back home and in her arms.

One of the team assistants ran up to him in the lobby, “Hughes,” he said, a little breathless, “they changed your room.”

“What?” he asked, trying to pull himself from his misery and back to the present.

“They had to change your room. Something about the heater being broken,” Sean said.

“Okay. Petey still with me?”

“No, they had to separate you,” Sean forced the key into his hand as they stepped on the elevator, “I already moved your bags.”

He’d slept four quick hours in a room that felt perfectly fine before heading to the pre-game meeting and meal. He couldn’t remember if he’d left his stuff all over the bathroom counter. Hopefully, Sean didn’t have to go through too much trouble. Quinn definitely owed him dinner.

The room was dark when he walked in. And it smelled like… it smelled like Sarah’s smoky vanilla perfume.

Fuck. He missed her so much, his mind was playing tricks on him.

At least he would have a room to himself, and could call her in peace without the threat of Petey listening in. They could probably even get some phone sex in, which hadn’t happened for far too long.

Then, he would get a full night's sleep before their flight to Chicago. That, in itself, was a rare luxury he was outrageously thankful for.

When he flipped on the light, the first thing he noticed was the king size bed. The bedspread was mussed, as if someone had been lying on it. Strange for any hotel, but especially one this nice. Rooms he came into often looked so pristine, it was as if no one had ever stepped foot in them before.

He pushed the worry out of his mind and started toward the bathroom.

“Hey.”

Great, now he was hallucinating. It sounded like Sarah was right behind him. He must be more tired than he thought.

“Quinn?”

He stopped dead in his tracks, backpack nearly slipping to the floor. If he turned and she wasn’t here, he didn’t know what he’d do.

A touch grazed his shoulder, and a strong whiff of her perfume made his knees shake. “Sarah?” he asked, hoping against hope. Why would she be here?

“Yeah,” she said.

He turned and felt a strange, strangled sort of gasp escape his throat.

Sarah was in his hotel room. She was here. She was in Boston. How was she here?

When his brain finally reconciled the fact that she was actually in front of him, he noticed she was wearing his flying skate jersey.

“I - how?”

She smiled softly, set his backpack aside and wrapped her arms around him.

His body caught on before his brain did, hugging her against him fiercely.

Coming home from her conference in Costa Rica, which had been lovely but incredibly socially exhausting, all Sarah had wanted was to fall into bed with Quinn. When she came home to a dark and empty house, it had been a rude reminder he was on the longest road trip of the year. The apartment felt too big without him in it, especially for so long.

“I missed you so much,” she said into his neck.

“How did you do this?” he finally asked.

He’d known other players' wives and girlfriends occasionally showed up on road trips, but generally, their partners always knew, and it was usually because they were close by one of their hometowns.

“Brady called me. He said you were so sad and not yourself on Wednesday, he wanted to do something. So he bought me a ticket and called Brock to get the schedule.”

He sniffed and she pulled back.

“Oh, Quinn,” she said upon seeing the tears pooled in his eyes.

“I’m just…” The shock of seeing her brought all his emotion up to the surface.

“I know,” she said, pulling him into her again, feeling a few tears slip down her own cheeks. It felt so good to hold him.

His mouth landed on her neck. It was a comforting thing to taste her skin as they embraced. He mumbled something against her.

“Sorry?” she asked, trying to pull away so she could see his face.

He didn’t want to let her go, not even for a second. Instead, he lifted his lips just enough so he could repeat, “I missed you so much.”

“I know Quinny,” she said, running her fingers into his hair. “I missed you, too, but I’m here now, and we have all night.”

His mouth was still on her neck, though he’d started moving with more intent, licking and kissing. The shock to his system was giving way to relief and desire.

Finally fed up with his teasing, Sarah took his jaw in her hands and forced his head up so she could kiss him.

He sighed into it, and found some way to pull her tighter against him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew she was wearing his jersey, but the shock of her in his hotel room, seeing her face and her blue eyes and her lips - god her lips, he couldn't get enough of them - stole all of his brain power. Now, as his hands splayed across her back, feeling the numbers patched and stitched there, the reality of it hit him.

Forcing himself to break away so he could look at her, his knees threatened to buckle when he noticed she wasn’t wearing anything else - not that he could see anyway. The fabric hit her upper thigh, leaving much of her legs bare.

“I -” he tried to say something, but lost the words.

The idea of wearing his jersey came from Emma. Sarah thought it was cheesy, but Emma assured her he’d love it. She’d surprised Brady at the end of a roadtrip like that, and “I swear his brain, like, short-circuited or something. He just stood there, staring at me for like 30 seconds before he went wild.”

It didn’t surprise her Quinn didn’t have the same immediate reaction. He was so much quieter than Brady, and from what she could tell, they had a much more subdued relationship than the Tkachuks.

The way he was looking at her now, though - like she was the thing he'd been anxiously waiting for on Christmas morning - made it all worthwhile.

“I borrowed it, I hope that’s okay.”

“Yeah,” he breathed.

When they were apart, the mechanics of an orgasm could be there, but it just wasn't as good. It could never be. She missed feeling him: his skin, his breath, the rigid length of him inside her.

It wasn’t that she’d been hoping he’d ravish her right away (okay, maybe she had been, but she knew Quinn, and knew he would never react that way), but all this looking without any touching was getting out of hand. Impatience was pulling tight through her stomach. The prospect of finally feeling fulfilled was driving her crazy.

She needed to give him a little nudge.

Leaning in, she let her lips graze his ear, down to his jaw and then back. He made a soft, breathy noise, and she knew she almost had him.

Just one more push.

“How do you want me?” she asked, following it up with a slow, open mouthed kiss to the soft spot under his ear.

Blood rushed from his head so fast he felt dizzy.

“I want you to ride me in this,” he managed to say, fingering the stripes on the sleeve.

It was a fantasy he'd harbored since middle school, but had yet to experience. He'd asked his college girlfriend once, and she had scoffed, telling him it would get too hot, which he thought was a strange argument considering a jersey was designed to do the exact opposite.

Sarah didn’t acknowledge his request other than popping open the buttons of his shirt, one after the other. That set him into motion, tugging at his clothing. He couldn’t get it off fast enough.

Through a jumble of arms and hands, tangling in their effort to get him naked, they found themselves on the bed. Quinn flat on his back, breath heavy with anticipation, and Sarah astride him, trying to game plan her next move. She had on lingerie he’d never seen before and didn’t want it to go to waste, but he wanted her in the jersey, and she couldn’t take anything off without spoiling the surprise.

He grew impatient as she debated, shifting his hips up, trying to entice her onto him already. “Sarah,” he whined.

Finally, she decided to just move it to the side, and sink onto him. The stretch after so long was a pleasant burn.

His eyes rolled back, and his hips jumped, wanting to fill her more.

“How are you so wet?” he asked. They hadn’t kissed for that long. Usually, it took a little more to get her this soaked.

A wicked smile spread over her face, “I may have gotten myself off while I was waiting, thinking about finally seeing you again.”

“Fuck.”

She was a vision. Riding him after so long? Wearing his jersey? Confessing to touching herself in this bed thinking of and waiting for him? He was the luckiest man on the planet.

She pitched forward to get the right angle, and moaned, loud and earnest. Good thing they moved him two floors up from the team.

He tried to brace himself, but the fantasy of it, of her being here and wearing his jersey - the golden C winking at him, reminding him of all the work he'd done to get here - knowing his name was on her back made him groan out loud. His restraint stretched until it was paper thin.

His hands explored under the jersey only to feel something smooth tied at her hip and lace at her ribcage.

He coughed, “are you wearing lingerie?”

“Just for you,” she said, meeting his heated gaze with a coy smile.

He didn’t think this could get any better. Now, his mind was wild with possibilities.

“Come for me and I'll show you.”

Holy shit.

The little control he had snapped and he flooded her with a loud groan of her name.

Sarah's hands traced his arms, entwining their fingers before guiding them to rest on either side of his head as she leaned forward to kiss him.

His chest pressed into hers, catching the scratchy logo on his jersey as he tried to catch his breath. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

Shaking her head, she pushed herself off of him to go to the bathroom. She needed to clean up and readjust before the next part of her plan could move forward.

He lay there and tried to wrap his mind around what had just happened. It was almost too fast for him to remember the way he wanted. The bathroom door opened, and he looked over.

“Alright, captain,” she said, leaning on the door frame. She felt incredibly silly, but relished the way his eyes widened at the nickname, “are you ready to see what I have for you?”

Oh God.

He nodded, though he wasn’t sure how he could possibly be prepared for what was coming.

“Do you want to, or should I?” she asked, fiddling with the hem of his jersey, exposing the little heart tattooed on her thigh.

“You can.” His voice squeaked a little as he said it, and he blushed.

Being sexy wasn’t really in her forte, but Sarah tried her best. Lifting the jersey over her head, she thought briefly about tossing it in his face. Deciding that was a step too far, she let it fall to the floor.

Quinn gaped.

Most of the time, Sarah wore cotton briefs - occasionally she switched them for lace or a thong, but this was something totally different than what he was used to seeing her in.

For one, the matching set was so sheer, he could see her nipples through the swirling pattern of the black lace. Then, there was the fact that it was obviously made to be removed. The bra tied in front and her underwear tied at the hips, each with a silky black ribbon, like she was a gift for him to unwrap.

His mind ran away with the thought of tugging the bow on her bra undone with his teeth.

When she did a little twirl so he could see the back, the breath knocked out of his lungs. She looked so damn good, she might just kill him. His heart might just explode.

“What do you think?” she asked, walking closer. She could already see how much he liked it in his wide eyes and panting mouth, but she wanted to hear him say it.

“I -” He didn't know it was possible to get hard so soon after coming.

“Do you like it, Captain?”

His breathing hitched. He never thought he'd have a captain kink, but hearing the title come out of her mouth while she was wearing that? He might just develop one.

Adjusting the bows at her hips so they sat more naturally, Sarah looked at him and repeated, “do you like it, Quinn?”

“Fuck,” he breathed. “Yes. I love it.”

She smiled and climbed onto the bed then straddled him. His hands went to her waist of their own volition.

Her hips ground down.

“You can’t do that,” he said, teeth gritted as he forced the words over a moan. The soft texture of the lace against his cock was incredible.

“What?”

“You can’t ride me again. I won’t last and you haven’t come yet.”

She leaned down so her mouth was inches from his, her breath making him hyper aware of his own mouth and how much he wanted it on her.

“And what are you going to do about that, Captain Hughes?”

He topped her so fast that Sarah grunted and let out a little giggle when her back slammed into the mattress.

“Sorry,” he breathed, only half meaning it as he planted a wet kiss at the base of her throat. He moved down her chest, following the outline of her bra with his mouth. He almost made good on his fantasy of biting it open, but held off. He wanted to watch her fall apart with it on.

“What were you thinking about when you were getting yourself off?” he asked, kissing over her tattoo.

“You,” she panted.

“And what were you imagining me doing?”

She whined.

“What was I doing, Sarah?” he asked, lifting his mouth from where he’d just kissed down to the band of her panties.

“You were eating me out,” she confessed, a blush rising high on her cheeks.

Sometimes, he wished she would have told him how much she fantasized about and enjoyed oral sex before the first time he’d done it. There were four solid months he could have been pleasing her he would never get back.

He smirked a little, “is that what you want now?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?” he asked, tracing his fingers up and down her thighs.

“Yes, Quinn.”

He tutted, “Yes, what?” he asked as his lips went to her inner thigh.

The bolt of electricity that fractured up her spine tipped her voice into a high, breathy whimper.

When she didn’t answer, he repeated the question again, ghosting his fingers against the lace of her panties.

Her hips jumped. “Yes, Captain.”

Oh, it was definitely a kink now. He couldn’t get over the sound of it coming out of her mouth.

He made a satisfied noise and hooked two fingers under the lace gusset, pulling it away from her experimentally. The ties pulled taught, but didn't seem to want to slide over her hips. He tugged again, a little harder.

Flinging a hand down, Sarah grasped the band, “you're going to rip them.”

“I'll buy you more,” he said, almost off handedly, still pulling.

“Quinn, that's not the point. Please don't.”

The pulling stopped, and he pulled back to look into her face. “Okay. I'm sorry.”

Her face melted into a smile, “thank you.” She reached down to ease the ties over her hips.

“No,” he breathed.

Her eyes snapped to his, questioning.

Before she could ask what he wanted instead, he was knocking her hand away and licking one of the ribbons at her left hip into his mouth.

He pulled it away from her with his teeth, eyes growing darker when the bow unraveled and the pieces fell apart.

Taking his time to kiss and lick his way to the other tie, he repeated the action, and groaned when it also untied so easily.

He pulled on the whole thing and flung the garment away. It sailed somewhere across the room, ties flailing.

Sarah bought this set because it was cute and sort of reminiscent of her black bikini he liked so much. She didn't realize what a fetish he would have for the bows.

Settling back between her legs, she whined as he parted her lips and blew on her hot core. Shivers ran up her spine and down to all her fingers and toes.

“What were you thinking about?”

“What do you mean?”

“When you were touching yourself, what were you thinking about me doing?”

“You were eating me out,” she repeated, confused.

His laugh chuffed a burst of hot air against her that had her squirming.

“I mean how. What exactly was I doing?

“You want me to describe it to you?”

“I want to do it for you,” he confessed, voice gravelly.

She made a little squeaking noise that told him how much that idea excited her.

“Tell me how you want me to touch you,” he said before he leaned in to press his tongue against her, just to feel her twitch.

Something inside her broke. Even though she felt depraved at the very thought of telling him this, it was too late to go back. The possibility of feeling it had taken over her body and wouldn’t let it go.

“You had your fingers on my g-spot,” she breathed.

“How many?”

She squirmed again.

“How many, Sarah?” he repeated, circling her entrance, enthralled at the way she flexed.

“Two.” Her mind made her continue and she squeaked, “then three.”

His eyes widened and shot to hers. “Will they fit?”

She nodded. “If you get me off first, they should.”

His eyes were blown dark and full of mischief when he glanced down then back up to meet hers again. “And how was I using my mouth?”

She moaned out loud just thinking about it. “You were doing that suck and flick thing with your tongue.”

He had no idea what she meant.

He'd done it before: the night they'd been eliminated from the finals last season, but she couldn't very well bring that up. I want you to eat me out the way you did when you'd had one of the worst nights of your career? There was no way. Maybe if she demonstrated...

“I can show you,” she said, grasping one of his shoulders, “I need a part of you.”

He toyed for a moment with the idea of presenting her his dick, but if he did that, he wouldn’t want to stop feeling her mouth, which defeated the whole purpose of this. Instead, he crawled over her and tipped his head to expose the column of his throat.

His eyes rolled back as her open mouth connected with his hypersensitive skin. She ran her tongue over his pulse, following it with her bottom lip, before ending with suction, and a flick with the tip of her tongue.

Moaning, he ground against her hot center when she did it again and again.

He wrenched himself away before he could follow through with his desires to sheath himself and take her any way she would let him.

Settling back onto his stomach, he shook his head to get back into the right frame of mind before leveling his gaze with her perfect, pretty pearl again.

He tried to follow the movement of her mouth, and her hips jumped at the feeling.

“Quinn,” she whined as he eased two fingers into her, curling them against that sensitive spot. “Oh my god.”

He continued on. She could feel the movement of his chin, up and down and in and out with each pass of his tongue.

“Harder,” she begged.

He dug his fingers into her soft spot even more.

Throwing her head back, she moaned loudly. “Oh my god, Quinn. Just like that. Don't stop. Please don't stop.”

Like he would ever stop when she was at his mercy like this. Grinding into the mattress, he continued on, moaning at the way her body undulated as she moved with him.

She let out a gasping noise as if someone had forced all the air out of her in one swift hit. Her core began to pulse around his fingers, trying to suck them deeper inside her.

Tipping her chin back, Sarah sighed as wave after soft wave of pleasure crashed over her.

When she stopped contracting so tightly, he waited until one of her aftershocks passed to work another finger into her.

Her voice echoed around the hotel room as she cried out.

He said a silent prayer of thanks to whoever had the wherewithal to separate them from the team. There was no way he wanted anyone, let alone someone who knew them, to overhear this.

“So good, Quinn,” she croaked out. “Feels so full.”

He continued kissing her bundle of nerves the way she wanted, pausing every few passes to suck a little more intensely.

A surge of pleasure coiled low in her belly, winding tighter and tighter until every breath ended in a moan. She felt so full and stretched open. So… Alive. All other thoughts fell out of her brain except Quinn and his silver tongue and wicked fingers.

Feeling as if she might just shatter to pieces if she didn't get some relief, Sarah moaned and panted and begged, “please, Quinn. Please.”

She had no idea what she was asking for, but the waves of pleasure kept coming and coming until it was winding up her spine and pulling so tight, she thought it might just wrench every vertebrae apart and fill each gap with the soft promise of her impending release.

He could feel her high building and kept urging her up the slope. Anxious for her summit, he sealed his mouth to her, milking her clit like her orgasm might just satiate his hunger.

“Quinn,” she gasped, spine arching as her hands abandoned her nipples and rummaged for some way to ground herself. One ended up in his hair, and the other fisted into the bedspread. “Oh my god. I think I'm gonna…”

Her voice dissolved into a noise he'd never heard her make as her muscles locked around his fingers. He forced them to continue, working through her orgasm.

Quite suddenly, as pleasure whirled through her veins, a feeling, intense and ferocious, swelled within her.

As a tsunami of white-hot ecstasy crashed over her, he unlocked a space deep within her she didn't even know existed.

“Oh, fuck! Quinn!”

Something molten erupted in her belly like a long dormant volcano.

Vaguely, she heard him groan as if every fantasy he'd ever had was being fulfilled.

Though he knew women could, he’d never seen it in person, never even imagined what feeling her release gush over his hand would be like.

Sometime last season, Beauvillier had gone on and on about making his girl squirt, and Quinn remembered wishing he would keep it to himself. He didn't want to think about that every time he saw them together.

Now, having experienced it first hand, he understood why Tito wanted to tell everyone he knew.

Pleasure continued to ripple through her. No high had ever gone on this long. It eased away the tension that had knotted up in her body, until all at once, sensitivity and overstimulation set in.

“Too much, too much,” she croaked, trying to squirm away from his touch.

He’d been so mesmerized watching her face, he hadn't realized his fingers were still moving. They uncoiled and stilled, and she melted into the mattress as a sigh melted from her lips.

Her chest rose and fell steeply, the tie of her bra pulling taught with every heavy inhale, making the cups ride up the swell of her breasts. God, she was so beautiful.

It took quite a while for her to come down. He gently eased his fingers out only after she stopped pulsing.

A whine escaped her throat at the sudden emptiness.

Slowly coming back to herself, Sarah registered something wet underneath her.

“Oh my god,” she breathed. “Did I -” her eyes darted to his as her face flushed with the reality of what had just happened, “did you make me squirt?”

“Yeah," he said, crawling over her again, "and it was the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen in my life.”

The embarrassment she felt at making such a mess ebbed away with his confession.

“No one's ever done that to me before. I haven't even been able to.”

A look of immense pride took over his face. “Did you like it? I mean, it seemed like you liked it.”

She nodded, “I've never felt anything like it.”

He brought his lips to hers, and the taste of herself on his tongue made her passion throb to life again.

“Well, Captain,” she said a little while later, smiling at the way his jaw slackened and eyelids grew heavy at the title. “I think I've got one more round in me. What do you want?”

He twitched against her.

“I just want you,” he brought his mouth to her neck. “Want to feel you come on my cock,” he murmured into her skin.

“I think we can arrange for that,” she said, fingers winding into his hair.

Bracing up on his elbows, his gaze fell to her bra.

Instead of using his mouth, he twirled one of the ribbons around his finger and pulled gently to ease the bow undone. It fell apart, revealing a knot in the middle.

“It kept coming undone,” Sarah confessed, hands coming up to help him with the knot, which had pulled incredibly tight amidst her heavy breathing and writhing around.

“I think it's stuck. I can't get it out while it's on me, anyway,” she said, raising her arms above her head. “Here.”

At least he'd been able to remove her bottoms the way he wanted. He eased the lace over the swell of her breasts and helped her lift it off.

He made love to her the way he did whenever he got home from a long time away - earnestly and full of wonder, compliments falling from his lips like raindrops, as if they didn’t cost a thing.

“Fuck, Sarah, you feel so good.”

“I can't believe you're mine.”

“You're so pretty. I can't stop looking at you.”

“God, I'm so lucky.”

They didn’t cost him anything, but they made Sarah feel like she was worth a million dollars.

“I love that sound,” he murmured when she gasped in pleasure and followed it with a low moan.

As he drove into her again and again, he shuttered and moaned, feeling like she was going to shatter him into a million little pieces

He'd been hot all night. A sheen of sweat had spread over his skin as soon as she'd climbed on top of him in his jersey. The prospect of a fantasy being fulfilled sending his body into a frenzy. Working her up to that intense high hadn't been a walk in the park either. He'd been on edge and so focused. Now, he felt like his body was on fire.

She felt and sounded and looked so good. He couldn't think of anything but her.

When she tipped her face to the side with a loud moan, he attacked her jaw and neck with his lips, desperate to taste her again.

She was here. She was in Boston. She was here, in his hotel, in Boston. He just made her squirt, and he didn't have to be down to the bus until 10 the next morning. He must have been doing something right.

When he felt her fall apart around his cock, he breathed through it and hung on for dear life, twitching with the bliss of it.

Coming down from her high, Sarah was mesmerized by him. The defined set of his jaw, the sweaty sheen to his skin, how his curls fell over his forehead.

“You're so handsome, Quinn.”

She knew he was holding on, hoping to urge another high from her, but she didn't have one to give him. It was time to send him over the edge.

Propping up on her elbows, she traced her mouth along his jaw up to his ear. He let out a panicked little whimper.

“Want to feel you,” she whispered. "Want you to fill me up."

His hips stuttered.

“Come for me, Captain.”

White spots blipped in his vision and he had no choice but to obey.

Her name fell from his mouth like a prayer as she pulled him over the edge.

When they walked back in the room after showering, Sarah realized just how much of a mess she'd made of the bed. There was no way they could sleep in it as it was.

“Oh no.”

“What?” Quinn asked, lowering the towel he was running over his hair.

“We need new sheets and housekeeping is going to know exactly what we've been doing.”

“No they won't.”

She pointed to the bed, “you want to tell me they're not going to know we weren't just having sex?”

He laughed, “fine. So they might know. What does it matter? It's not like we know any of them.”

“It's so embarrassing.”

“What is? That your boyfriend made you come so hard you squirted?”

“No,” she was blushing though, “I mean…no. That was amazing.”

“So what's the worry?”

“I just…I don't want anyone else to see.”

He laughed, “that's fair. I can just ask them to bring some extra bedding. No one has to come into the room.”

She nodded, “okay.”

He called the desk, and despite his insistence he would prefer to make the bed himself, the hotel sent someone up anyway.

Sarah folded the comforter before hiding in the bathroom.

Quinn noticed the housekeeper's eyes lingering in one corner of the room. When he glanced over, he saw Sarah’s panties from where he'd thrown them, ties scrawled over the carpet like calligraphy strokes. So much for being discreet.

After giving the woman a tip, he tucked them in Sarah's suitcase before letting her know the coast was clear.

As they settled into bed, Quinn relished holding her close.

Before sleep could overtake her completely, Sarah needed to set something straight.

“I hope you know that Captain thing is only for special occasions. There is no way I'm calling you Captain all the time.”

“That’s fine,” he said, laughing. “Makes it more special when you do.”

“To be fair, I didn’t expect you to like it so much,” she said.

She’d called him Captain as a kind of joke, and half expected him to tell her not to do it again. Quinn didn’t even like pet names. She vividly remembered the way he grimaced the first (and last) time she called him baby.

He ran his fingers through her soft hair. “I don’t know that I would have either. I’ve never had that happen before. You said it, and it went straight to my dick. I think your lingerie had something to do with that.”

She propped herself up on an elbow. “You liked the lingerie?” she teased, full well knowing the answer.

He scoffed, “I'm going to dream about it for the rest of this damn road trip.”

Giggling, she leaned down to kiss him. “Maybe I'll have it on when you get home,” she said against his mouth.

He groaned, “don't joke about that.”

“Why not? Wouldn't it give you something to look forward to?”

“I always look forward to coming home to you.”

She looked down at him for a long time, memorizing the love in his eyes. “I love you, Captain Hughes,” she said before lowering her mouth to his to tell him that way too.

“Tease,” he chided when she pulled away.

She smiled and settled back, laying her head on his chest.

“I love you, too,” he whispered into her hair before they fell asleep. “I can't believe you're here.”

The next morning, Sarah put his jersey back on and put his morning hard on to good use - slower this time so he could remember it properly.

After room service breakfast and a very steamy shower, he walked her down to the lobby to catch her car to the airport.

“I love you,” he said, kissing her forehead.

“I love you too.”

“Thank you for coming.”

“You're welcome. You should really be thanking Brady, though.”

He watched her pull away before heading back to his room to pack his bag.

On the elevator ride, Quinn did just as Sarah suggested.

Love you man. I owe you big time.

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

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#quinn & sarah snapshots #quinn hughes #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes oneshot #quinn hughes x ofc #quinn hughes x oc #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl smut #hockey fic #hockey romance #requested #tkwrites requests #asks #answered #qh43

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httpiastri · 2 months

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did i really just write a full smut about oscar based on the hilton video, even though i’m supposed to get up for work in about 4 hours?….

yes but it’s not my fault he looks this good :/

#pleaseeeeeeeee #is it really legal to look this good?????#he’s too hot i can’t even #and not just hot but also so adorable #his smileeeee #i missed his laughter #and ofc i couldn’t miss out on the hands neck arms #does this count as a dump? i think so #can the season just start already??#also !!! i promise to answer asks soon !!!!!!! but i have a very busy weekend ahead of me so idk when i’ll have time :(#osc hands osc neck osc arms #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #oscar piastri #mclaren racing

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brother-emperors · 7 months

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SO this! is about this specific entry in Burchard's Diary--

The Diary of John Burchard, trans. A. H. Mathew

--and the APERITIO ORIS rite (the mouth thing they keep talking about), but it's also a little about Ascanio's friction with the Vatican and the della Rovere-Ascanio rivalry

Politics and Dynasty: Underaged Cardinals in the Catholic Church, Jennifer Mara DeSilva

Popes, Cardinals and War: The Military Church in Renaissance and Early Modern Europe, David Chambers

Ascanio Maria Sforza: la parabola politica di un cardinale-principe del Rinascimento, Marco Pellegrini

#ascanio sforza #giuliano della rovere #italian renaissance tag #the thing about long term rivals is eventually you know each other better than lovers ever could bc you've spent so much time #trying to shove each other down a flight of stairs. there was.#christ what was it. della rovere's price of reconcilliation with rodrigo was kicking ascanio out of the vatican. something like that #literally you could've asked for anything and you picked the head of ascanio sforza. that's commitment baby.#marriage vows have NOTHING on that. but ofc. they did reconcile. and della rovere did visit him daily to talk for that one summer #ALSO THE FUCKING FUNERARY MONUMENT DELLA ROVERE COMMISSIONED #WHAT'S WITH THE ROMANTIC NECROMANCY BUDDY. HELLO? HELLO. BANGING ON THE VATICAN DOORS. ANSWER ME!!!!#drawing tag

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ifisawyoueverydayforeverwill · 5 months

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Y'ALL NEED TO SEE THIS PANEL

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florallylly · 3 months

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i've seen model steve harrington aus. i've seen child steve harrington aus. i present: child model steve harrington

note: this came from my own desperate need to see this conceptualized and i SWEAR i've searched, i just can't find any content with child model steve so. :(

bc little steve harrington was remarkably cherub-like. his large brown eyes and soft pout ensured endless cooing and fussing from his mom's friends. and when he blushed and ducked his head in shyness, they only complimented him more. when he got home that day, his mom smiled at him.

so steve decided that he would put up with the cheek pinching and the squealing. he sat upright in his chair, sitting on his hands so he wouldn't fidget and ruin the image. because he'd do anything to keep his mom smiling at him. if he was being particularly good that day, she'd let him lay his head on her lap on the drive back home.

but everything changed at his father's birthday gala. a nearly eight year old steve harrington sat prim and proper in his seat, but a smile lit up his face--his cheeks round and his dimples showing up. he raised his hand up to cover his giggle, but he couldn't help but laugh at some silly old man with a loose toupee. then he sees his mom approaching, and his face quickly smooths over, going back to the more polite smile he usually adopted when it came to these events.

he'd ruined it. he hadn't continued being the sweet boy his mom wanted. but then, she smiles at him. and introduces him to the man behind her, who says he's a designer. the man holds out his hand, but when steve puts his hand into his palm, he doesn't shake it. the man simply holds his hand, his eyes scanning steve's face. steve tries not to squirm under the attention. but the man nods and smiles at his mom, and he gives two brief cheek kisses to steve, whispering in his ear "you're going to be a star, darling." steve looks at his mom, confused, but she waves him off to continue talking to the man.

a few months later, steve's mom whisks him off on a trip to france. and steve is so excited to go, nearly vibrating in his seat as the airplane prepares to take off. but instead of the eiffel tower and the seine, steve is taken to a studio. he's posed and changed. once again, he's being fussed over, but instead of wealthy socialites, gossiping make-up artists squeal over him. he's "perfect for the shoot" and "the most darling little boy." steve doesn't understand, but his mom is still smiling, so he lets the nice ladies brush powder over his face.

and he looks in the mirror. his hair is a little more tousled and his lips have a slight tint to them and his eyes seem to take up much of his face. he's put into new clothes, and he feels like a doll in their hands. and when he's put in front of the camera, he simply follows the photographer's directions. afterwards, he's bundled into the car and his mom can't stop gushing about how good he was.

apparently, he's a natural. and then she goes back to fussing over him, focusing more on appearance than his behavior now. but she takes him out shopping and they eat at an upscale restaurant along the champs-elysses. and steve is happy.

and then they go back home, and his mom is so much stricter than before. she has him try out all kinds of different hair products, determined to find the best combination to keep it looking shiny and soft. she controls his food intake and what he wears and makes him use weird creams and serums on his face. but this is what makes his mom happy, so he's happy to let her.

his mom is also on the phone a lot more lately, whispering harshly about the quality of brands and steve just assumes she's being picky about the clothes she buys. later, his mom picks him up and holds him, and asks if he'd like to move to italy. she looks at him intently and it's obvious what answer she wants, so steve nods. she smiles and holds him close, and it's the most loved steve has felt in a while.

so they move to italy, and suddenly steve is a lot more busy. he's put in front of more cameras for more people he doesn't know. but he's smiling and pouting and doing whatever they want him to do. his compliant attitude and polite nature have photographers and designers alike singing his praises, and steve always looks to his mom for approval. but she's been arguing with his dad a lot lately, so she's upset more often than not. but that's okay, the make-up artists are always kind to him.

but then one day, his mom takes a phone call in the middle of the shoot. and when it finishes, she's gone. steve goes back in, close to tears, but the make-up artists still hanging around look after him until a car is sent to pick him up. this becomes a trend. and eventually, steve goes alone to his shoots. he's always taken care of by the crew and someone is always there to pick him up, but it's not fun without his mom there.

but he knows that she's always enjoyed him taking pictures, so he continues to do so, hoping that she'll come watch him again sometime soon. and he busies himself with befriending the chatty make-up artists and the bossy photographers and the eccentric designers. and he's such a cute little thing that they can't help but dote on him.

steve is never catapulted into child stardom, as his mom is picky with his jobs, only choosing luxury brands and well known designers for him. but within the industry, they call him the "little prince."

and then steve is catapulted into puberty, but his intense skin regimen prevents him from getting acne, save for the occasional zit. and his diet and religious exercise schedule help maintain his look. and he's still doing remarkably well, especially now that he's fully aware that he is a Model.

and steve has truly grown into his looks. with time, he's grown more comfortable in front of the camera and made numerous friends. nearly all of them are older than him, but they're fun and loud and it fills up the space that normally surrounds him. and they're the ones who get him hooked on american movies. steve remembers living in america, but he's been in milan so long that everything he recalls is vague.

but he watches them and falls in love with the american high school experience. so when he finally catches his mom off the phone and actually in the house, steve asks if he can go to school in america. and his mom laughs. but steve keeps asking, which devolves into begging. and his mother snaps, slapping him across the face and calling him ungrateful. she cries and begs for forgiveness, cowed into shame by steve's desperate attempt to hold back tears.

and so she lets him go to school in hawkins, indiana. an odd choice, but his parents just so happened to own a property there. (in truth, both of his parents expected him to change his mind within the year). but steve finds his place at hawkins high, because even though nobody in hawkins has ever heard of versace, steve is pretty. he's pretty and charming and he knows the right thing to say. after all, he's spent his whole life perfecting his mask.

and even if his mom ended up moving back home with his dad, leaving steve all alone in that big empty house, steve is happy. he's finally hanging out with people his age and high school is so far removed from the glitz and glam of the fashion industry. and he's settled and content with tommy and carol by his side. while he misses his friends back in milan, steve finds himself longing for the clothes more often. hawkins was certainly the opposite of milan, what with the nearest mall being two hours away and only equipped with a macy's and jcpenny.

through it all, steve is determined to be normal. he laughs along with jokes he doesn't quite get and rolls his eyes at carol's cue, and he joins the swim team. and he joins the basketball team. and he goes to parties and kisses girls and wears dumb little polos with his letterman jacket and does everything that he saw in the movies.

but nancy wheeler is different. steve can't forget his time in italy and who he is and was, and he's reminded of his old life in everyone and everything in hawkins. but not nancy wheeler. she's all hawkins and all his. and then the upside down happens.

and then nancy wheeler breaks his heart.

even after three years, his parents continue to ask when he'll go back to modeling, but he's different now. the upside down and billy hargrove beat that starry eyed little kid who thrived in the spotlight. and nancy wheeler proved that adoration and love is fleeting, so what would even be the point of trying anymore? his dad was a little more approving of steve's retirement/hiatus, saying that steve must want to go to college so he can take over the family business.

but when steve doesn't get into college, he's once again badgered by his mom to go back. but he's grown and changed and he's not sure that he can pretend anymore, so he says no. and they cut him off. enter: scoops era.

the measly scoops salary is not nearly enough to cover all of the new bills and expenses steve has, but he's not willing to leave hawkins. so he reaches out to his friends back in italy, and they refer him to their american connections. steve doesn't model at the same level as before, but he poses for a couple of zines and one artist who got a little too handsy at his exhibition. but he's able to make it through until the mall blows up.

this routine continues and he starts working at family video with robin at his side, but he keeps his side job a secret from the kids, using the excuse of visiting his parents to leave town for his shoots. he's not ashamed, but he knows he wouldn't "be normal" anymore if they found out.

but how does he explain his near mental breakdown at the sight of his healing demobat scars. they're raised and ugly, ruining what should have been a perfect body. and even though he uses scar cream everyday, they refuse to fade away completely. and how could anyone stand to be near such an ugly thing when all his life, steve was meant to be pretty? after all, love and adoration is fleeting.

#steve harrington #give me grace i literally do not know how to verbalize all of my thoughts about this #child model au #imagining them finding out bc jonathan or will was interested in some photography art exhibition and steve is literally the centerpiece #everyone FREAKING OUT #robin knew bc OFC robin knew #steve feeling too self conscious to keep his old ads but he knows his mom keeps a record in her office #dustin screaming crying punching the wall YOUVE BEEN FAMOUS THIS WHOLE TIME... AND DIDNT TELL ME....#mike wheeler feeling ill bc is steve actually kind of cool....#italian steve harrington #because OF COURSE italian steve harrington #eddie munson asking steve if he'd ever consider doing playboy #steve going into a very serious answer about his career projection and actually that's an insult eddie. do u know who i am #and eddie is like yeah ur the centerfold in my heart baby #and then steve gets it #to be so clear. steve's mom DOES love him but she's also extremely selfish #that's why she feels bad when she slaps him and concedes to his request #but once she gets over the initial guilt she's like but he was a STAR i was the mother of a STAR

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