Tw: mentions of blood, dead bodies, and mutilation. (Isnt too much actually)
It was a nice day.
The birds were chirping, the sky bright and beautiful, and the breeze flowing just enough to ruffle ones hair. It was nice, perfect even.
If only you could enjoy it.
If only the screams of dozens didn't contaminate the serenity of nature. But it did.
You had to run across the estate, away from the scenic nature, bare feet pattering on the cold floor, just to reach his dwellings. The screams grew louder as you approached the doors that separated you and whatever carnage he has created.
You threw the doors open, revealing a massacre within. Bodies lay on the floor, blood everywhere, attendants screaming and running for their lives. And in the middle of it all, the perpetrator, him.
Sukuna.
King of Curses.
Your husband.
You should feel scared. Should run away, scream like any normal person seeing the monster before you.
But you weren't normal and that isn't a monster, to you anyways.
You didn't feel scared, no. You feel the nudging frustration deep in your bones, the headache that is already forming in your temple. You want to throw something at him.
"Sukuna! What in the HELL are you doing?!" You screamed. "Stop it this instant!"
Nothing.
He heard you, of course, even through the screams of the poor servants, he heard you. He always has. Especially with the smirk on his face as he tore a man's arm from his body.
You look towards his trusted aide, Uraume, and raise your eyebrow in question. The white haired person just bowed her head and shook it.
You sighed and crossed your arms, foot tapping relentlessly on the same spot in annoyance. He was truly testing your patience. You just wanted a nice stroll and your wonderful husband decided to restructure the workforce in the most gruesome way possible.
You knew him, after all the years you were with him, of course you would. He wanted your attention, affection, to be nice and calm him down with sweet words. He's childish like that. And usually you'd indulge him, play nice with him.
But not today.
Today you just wanted peace, watch the butterflies in the garden, frolick. Apparently not.
So you looked at your husband, face stone cold and yelled, "RYOMEN SUKUNA, IF YOU DO NOT STOP THIS MADNESS THIS INSTANT I WILL NOT BATHE WITH YOU ANYMORE!!"
Everything stopped. The screaming, running, begging, and most importantly, his carnage.
He looked at you dumbfounded, like he didn't think that was an option you could do. You just glared at him, at the man who was holding a severed arm, and didn't relent. He looked hurt. Actually hurt, like you just insulted his entire being.
He dropped the severed arm and walked towards you, head slightly lowered. He gestured for Uraume to clean up the mess and ordered someone to draw a bath.
You just kept glaring at him, even as he held your hand towards the bathroom, and even as you both lowered down in the bath. Only stopping when he apologized silently and promised to take you out on a walk the next morning.
You sighed and leaned onto him, he may be an idiot, a very dangerous and murderous idiot, but he's yours.
AN: Thanks for reading this mess of words! Did not know how to finish it lol but yeah. Thanks for the hearts in my previous posts! Love ya'll mwah!
You discover one hot summer’s day by Lovers Lake that Steve Harrington loves your curves.
pairing: steve harrington x curvy!reader
words: 4.9k
contains: fluff, friends to lovers, curvy!reader, a little suggestive, body image issues and insecurity, body dystopia, mention of hormonal weight gain, idiots in love, mutual pining, hint of ronance, beautiful female friendships, steve harrington being the best man to ever exist, female reader, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns for reader.
author's note: this fic is very personal to me and perhaps a lil self indulgant. i am a curvy girl (and proud) but recently i have been going through with some hormonal weight gain and body image issues. i'm feeling it especially during the summer months! want this fic to be a reminder to not only myself but to everyone else to please be kind to yourself 💗 truly, it is only assholes and people not worth your time who care about how much you weigh or the way you look. all bodies are beautiful and remember steve harrington loves thick thighs! please enjoy ☀️
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When Robin had suggested a day out by Lover's Lake, you had said yes because it was just meant to be the two of you. Then Robin had asked Nancy to come along too (because of course she did) which you were fine with, you liked Nancy and didn’t have a problem with it. A girl’s day out by the lake was exactly what you needed.
But then Mike had found out and of course—he couldn't keep his mouth shut. And suddenly what was meant to be a quiet day out by the lake had turned into the entire party coming, along with Jonathan, Eddie and Steve. And all of a sudden—you found yourself dreading it.
You dreaded the thought of having to take your dress off for a dip in the lake in front of so many people, the thought of the others seeing your body in a bikini made you feel anxious. You had always been curvy and proud of it but some hormonal weight gain had meant this summer that you were even curvier and it was something you were trying to navigate—loving your curves while simultaneously aware that you just felt off. Like your body wasn’t entirely your own or that you felt as though you were taking up space you didn’t before. You hated having to buy almost a whole new wardrobe for the summer and that your thighs chaffing was now something you were having to deal with.
But you didn’t cancel, despite the fact you really wanted to. Because Max and El had been so excited and you didn’t want to let them down. And you didn’t want to stop yourself from spending time with your friends just because you didn’t feel good about your body.
You hoped that you could get away with just sitting at the lake’s edge, of maybe just dipping your toes in. But then the day came and the Indiana sun was sweltering. The heat was unforgiving as you sat on the small picnic blanket you had set out while the others had run straight to the lake.
Your thighs were already sticking together beneath your dress despite only arriving five minutes ago and you were trying not to think too much about it.
“You good?”
You jump a little at the sound of Steve’s voice, having not even realised he had not joined the others in the rush into the glistening water of Lover’s Lake.
“Yeah, I’m—” you turn to look at Steve and almost instantly regret it. Because Steve was wearing a backwards baseball cap and some red swimming trunks, standing right in front of you looking so gorgeous that suddenly, you had forgotten the entirety of the English language.
Because Steve may be one of your friends, but his presence always caused a fluttery feeling in your stomach. And the sight of his bare chest—of his broad shoulders, the various freckles and moles dotted over his skin, his soft belly and that generous smattering of hair over his chest—well, it made your mouth feel incredibly dry.
“You, what?” Steve asks, seemingly oblivious to you almost ogling him as he tilts his head to the side as though mildly concerned at your lack of response.
God—you wished that he wasn’t so lovely. That way, you might not have developed this stupid crush on him.
It happened gradually over the years. Steve had gone from being the guy you never spoke to in high school because he was popular and threw parties almost every weekend (ones that you had never been invited to) to the guy who bought you blueberry muffins when you were on the early shift at the pharmacy that sat next to Family Video just because. The guy who you now consider to be one of your best friends. The guy you were desperately in love with but didn’t stand a chance with.
“I’m good,” you tell him finally, forcing a smile despite the fact the heat from the sun was already getting to you. “Just a bit hot, that’s all.”
“Bit hot is an understatement,” Steve grins down at you. “A dip in the lake should cool you down though.”
You swallow at the suggestion, your skin prickling at the thought of taking off your dress in front of Steve, of all people. Steve—who was so gorgeous that it made you aware of the sweat gathering beneath your breasts, made you aware of the fact that your body didn’t look like any of the girls he had been with previously. You had thought about the latter a lot more than you cared to admit.
“I’m fine for now,” you tell him with what you hope was a convincing smile.
Steve nods and part of you hopes, as he looks away from you, that he’ll leave you there. That he’ll take your word for it, join the others in the lake and you could watch from your spot on the picnic blanket without needing to think of an excuse to not join him in the lake. But of course, Steve was too good of a friend to just leave you on your own.
He sits himself down on the blanket beside you, his thigh pressing against yours and making your stomach feel as though it was made out of goo. Because Steve Harrington had that effect on you.
“Well, I’m not going to just leave you out here by yourself,” Steve declares, leaning back on his hands and making all intelligent thoughts leave your brain at the sight of him lounging shirtless beside you.
Your face warms and for once, you’re grateful for the sweltering heat. “You don’t have to,” you tell him. “It’s fine. Really, it’s—”
But he shuts you up by carefully placing his baseball cap on top of your head.
“I’m good here,” he tells you with a smile that devastates you in the best way possible. “You’re way more fun than those losers anyway.”
It was hard not to react to that—the corners of your mouth twitch and your face now feels hot to the touch but thankfully, a yell from the lake saves you from responding.
“I heard that!” Dustin Henderson yells from the water.
The day only got hotter as the afternoon wore on. You made sure to keep hydrated, but you were still so hot and the lake was taunting you.
Steve had been dragged into the lake by Eddie some ten minutes after he had sat down beside you. Once again, you had politely declined the offer to join him and the others in the lake and it was something close to torture to watch Steve—skin wet, water dripping from the coarse hair over his chest, laughing loudly as Max cussed Lucas out for splashing her.
“He looks like a wet dog,” Robin comments, a slight frown on her face as she drops a cold bottle of water from the ice cooler onto your lap, jolting you. “I seriously don’t know why you like him when he’s got all that on his chest.”
“Robin!” You yelp, eyes wide as she plops herself down next to you. You look over to where Eddie and Jonathan were arguing over the correct way to set up the barbeque nearby. “What if someone—”
“Relax,” Robin tells you, waving a hand as though it was nothing, as though your face wasn’t burning from her comment at the thought of anyone overhearing—of Steve overhearing. “I’m not going to scream it from the rooftops. I’m subtle,” you let out a small snort of laughter because nothing about Robin Buckley was subtle. “You however gawking at him like that—”
“—I was not gawking—”
“—you’re totally gawking. Like if you were in a cartoon, you’d just be drooling from your mouth and—”
“—okay, I get it,” you say, bringing your knees up to your chest and looking anywhere but down at the water where Steve’s back was on full display—muscles rippling as he stretched and looking so delectable and gorgeous and— “I can’t help it, okay? I just—”
“Really like him?” Robin offers with a small smile before nudging your arm. “Yeah, I know.”
You sigh before you uncap the bottle of water she had bought you, bringing the bottle to your lips and taking a long sip. The near ice cold water was heaven in your mouth, the liquid sliding down your throat and giving you some minor relief from the heat.
Robin doesn’t say anything, just watches you thoughtfully before she looks out over the lake—at the sun making the water sparkle, at the heatwaves making the trees on the other side of the lake move.
“I’m sorry that everyone else tagged along,” Robin murmurs, glancing at you. “You know I can’t say no to those kids. I mean, they’re little shits but—”
“—you don’t need to apologise Robin,” you tell her with a faint smile.
“But I feel bad,” she says, her eyes flickering down as though suddenly interested in the embroidery on the picnic blanket. “I mean—you haven’t been in the water yet.”
Your stomach turns, you shift on the blanket and you feel your calves sticking to the backs of your thighs from sweat. You didn’t want to have this conversation with Robin—not right now. You knew she would tell you that you didn’t have to feel uncomfortable, that the others didn’t care about the bit of extra weight you had put on. But the fact of the matter was—you cared, despite your best efforts not to. You cared.
“I’m fine,” you tell her with a slightly forced smile. “Really.”
Robin opens her mouth to respond, likely to call you out for your blatant lie but the sudden appearance of Nancy Wheeler shuts her up.
“Hey,” Nancy greets you both brightly, her eyes flickering over to Robin for a brief second before she sits herself down on the blanket directly opposite from you.
“H-hi Nance,” Robin stutters a little and you have to fight the urge to tease her for it.
Nancy smiles at Robin before her eyes flit over to you. “Steve keeps asking if you’re okay.”
Your face burns at Nancy’s words but you try your best not to react. Not to show how her words had made your stomach turn and made you feel as though your entire world had turned on its axis.
“Oh,” was all you managed to say. “Yeah—I’m ok—”
“—I think he likes you back.”
It was quiet and then—
“Robin—”
“—I didn’t tell her!” Robin insists, her face paling as she looks from you to Nancy and back again. “I swear! I didn’t—”
Nancy laughs and all you wanted was for the ground to swallow you whole.
“I’m very observant,” Nancy explains. “And the way you’re looking at each other—it’s kind of obvious.”
You blink—not fully registering Nancy’s words because there was no way that Steve Harrington looked at you like anything more than just a friend. She had to be lying, she had to—
“I mean—I don’t know if you’ve noticed but he keeps looking over at you and he’s asked me and Robin like fifteen times since we got here if you were okay.”
“He has?” You ask, looking from Nancy to Robin and back again.
“Almost as much as you’ve been looking at him,” Robin tells you. “He’s probably just waiting until you take that dress off.”
You let out a disbelieving laugh, shaking your head. “Well, he’d be very disappointed if I did.”
The words slip out before you could stop them and you don’t miss the look on both Robin and Nancy’s faces. The way Robin’s face falls slightly and Nancy looks slightly taken aback.
You swallow, face warming as you nervously adjust Steve’s cap that was still perched on your head. “I just mean—”
“—don’t start,” Robin tells you in an almost serious voice. “If you say one bad thing about yourself, I will sell that signed Bonnie Tyler vinyl you have.”
“You dare—”
“—then be kind to yourself,” Nancy says with an encouraging smile. “Because trust me, Steve would not be disappointed by you. Not at all.”
You chew your bottom lip between your teeth, wanting to believe Nancy’s words but at the same time, that small bit of doubt that lives in your ribcage seemed to gnaw at your insides, reminding you of every horrible thought you had ever had about yourself. Thoughts that would probably make Robin slap you, ones that made you compare yourself to every woman you had ever seen him with—made you compare yourself to someone like Nancy.
As though being able to read your mind, Nancy gives you a look—not sympathy, not pity, just understanding.
“He never looked at me like that,” she tells you simply. “He never looked at me like there wasn’t a single thing about me he’d change.”
Something that felt dangerously like hope twisted in your gut, your eyes drifting back over to Steve to find him already looking over at you. When he catches your eye, you swear you see his cheeks flush just a little. You watch as a smile spreads across his face before he lifts a hand to wave at you. You can barely stop yourself from smiling as you wave back at him.
“You two are sickening,” Robin says affectionately, a small smile pulling at her lips despite herself.
“It’s sweet,” Nancy says fondly.
“He even gave you his hat. Protecting you from the sun and all,” Robin comments, nodding to Steve’s baseball cap still perched on your head. “Now that’s love.”
You snort with laughter, despite the fact your face was burning at her words. “It’s just a hat, Rob,” you tell her even though you knew deep down that it wasn’t just a hat—this particular baseball cap was the one that Steve had been given by one of his favourite baseball players when he was seven years old. The hat that he had once yelled at Dustin for daring to borrow. It was not just a hat and you knew that.
“Hmm,” Robin hums as she shares a look with Nancy. “Sure. Just a hat. Keep telling yourself that.”
You roll your eyes, ignoring the way your stomach was squirming, the way it was near impossible to not smile.
“Well, I need to cool down,” Nancy announces, standing up, slipping her top over her head before unbuttoning her denim shorts while Robin looks as though she had forgotten how to breathe. “Want to come with?” She asks you, holding out her hand for you to take.
You stare at her hand for a long moment, weighing up the options. You could refuse—you could spend the rest of the day in the near unbearable heat, chasing the shade and watching your friends have fun in the water without you. Or you could take the plunge, ignore the doubt and cool down in the glittering lake. Maybe see if Robin and Nancy were right about Steve.
You swallow before you take Nancy’s outstretched hand to allow her to pull you up to your feet.
“You got this,” she whispers encouragingly, taking Steve’s cap off your head and dropping it onto Robin’s lap.
You smile shyly back at her before glancing back over at Steve who was once again already looking over at you. The look on his face, the softness in his eyes and hopeful expression on his face makes your stomach turn. And it was the look on his face, along with the feeling burning in your lower stomach that you found the confidence to finally peel your dress from your body to reveal the cherry red bikini beneath that stood out against your skin.
And shockingly, the world did not come to an end at the sight of you in a bikini. Nothing really changed. The kids were still arguing over the rules of sharks and minnows, Jonathan and Eddie were debating over how long to cook the burgers.
The only thing that had changed was Steve’s face. Because suddenly, Steve Harrington was looking at you in a way that he never had before. It was the sort of look that you hoped you’d never forget. The kind of look you wanted to bottle and save for a rainy day, the look that made you forget all about the sweat that had built up in the valley of your breasts, of the softness of your stomach, of the fact the fat of your thighs jiggled as you follow Nancy towards the lake.
Steve’s honeyned brown eyes were wide, following every movement of yours with parted lips and not paying attention to the kids trying to kill each other in front of him.
“See?” Nancy whispers to you, nudging your arm with a wry smile playing across her lips. “He is anything but disappointed right now.”
The moment you slipped into the water right after Nancy, relief flooded through you. The heat that had been prickling your skin only moments before was replaced by the cold lake water. It lapped at your skin as the lower half of your body was submerged in the water, your stomach tightening at the cold before you waded further into the water behind Nancy.
Nancy turns around, smiling widely at you. “Not so bad, is it?”
You couldn’t deny that she was right because the thought of what could have happened was much worse than the reality. In reality, no one cared. No one thought less of you because you dared to show more skin. No one was cruel, no one laughed. In fact, Max and El smiled widely when they realised you were finally in the water, both girls rushing over to you to gush about how great you looked, how incredible you looked in a bikini. Their comments and kindness made your eyes sting in a way you would blame on forgetting your sunglasses on the picnic blanket.
“Red is so your colour,” Max tells you.
“It is,” El agrees with a nod.
“I think you’ve broken Harrington though,” Max says with a snort of laughter, nudging El’s arm and pointing towards Steve who was red in the face and trying his very best (and failing) to not stare at your cleavage. “Honestly, you’d think he’s never seen boobs before.”
“Max!” You try to scold her while your own face burns at her comment coupled with the feeling of Steve’s eyes on you. “He’s not looking at my—”
“—he is,” El tells you bluntly. “He’s not very subtle about it.”
You laugh, nerves bubbling in your stomach as you chance a glance over at Steve who had seemed finally able to drag his eyes away from you just in time for him to tell Dustin off for nearly drowning Will. Still, Steve’s eyes flicker back over to you and when he sees you looking at him he shoots you a devastatingly handsome smile.
“Go talk to her, idiot,” Dustin tells Steve in a carrying voice, whacking him on the arm. “You think gawking at her is gonna impress her? You know, with Suzie I—”
The rest of Dustin’s sentence was cut off by Lucas dunking his head beneath the water.
You bite back a laugh, trying to ignore the way your heart was thumping in your chest.
Steve did eventually drift over to you, after preventing yet another would-be drowning. Nancy, Max and El swim away with you with every intention of eavesdropping on yours and Steve's conversation as he treads water in front of you with a dopey smile on his face.
“You finally got in,” he says with a smile, eyes dipping to your chest for a brief second before forcing himself to look at your face, the tips of his ears turning pink. “To the lake I mean. ‘Cause you looked pretty hot out there earlier—I mean, um—because of the heat y’know. It’s really hot today so obviously you were hot too. Not that you don’t look hot um—”
In all the years you had known Steve Harrington, you had never known him to be nervous but right now, in front of you? The man was floundering.
“God, this is painful to watch,” Max comments from a few feet away, floating on her back alongside a giggling El.
“Tell me about it,” Steve mutters to himself, scratching the back of his neck and allowing you a glorious view of his biceps, still wet from lake water.
“You good?” You ask him with a bright laugh, one that makes him look over at you, makes his mouth twitch as though trying not to smile.
“Yeah, grand,” Steve replies. “Just um—you look good. Like really good. Not that you don’t always look good because you do. I mean, good is an understatement. You always look pretty. No, beautiful. You always look beautiful but right now you look—wow.”
His words tumble out so quickly that you barely have time to process them but when you finally do, something swoops low in your belly, making you feel hot in a way that has nothing to do with the sun still beating down on you and everything to do with the man standing in front of you.
When you say nothing, because you’re too busy trying to comprehend what had just come out of Steve’s mouth, he adds, “I uh—I used to be a lot smoother than this, I swear.”
The comment makes you laugh and your laugh makes Steve laugh, albeit a little nervous.
“What changed?” You ask him, a small smile playing on your lips as you tilt your head to the side to consider him.
Steve seems to bite the inside of his cheek, his eyes dancing over your face in a way that seems to steal the breath from your lungs, making you feel like you were the only two people in the lake, like you were the only two people for miles (despite in the back of your mind, knowing you had an audience).
“You,” Steve says simply in a low voice that makes you feel more alive than you had ever felt before.
And yet—there was still that small part of you that wondered if it was pity or if you were imagining things or—
A sudden splash of water to your right makes you yelp and Steve swear loudly.
“Henderson! You little shit—”
Steve goes to lunge for Dustin but Max gets there first, whacking Dustin on the back of the head with a loud smack!
“Ouch!” Dustin grumbles, glaring at Max. “What was that for—”
“—they were having a moment, moron!”
Steve looked as though he wanted nothing more than to submerge himself into the water and not resurface. While you were trying hard not to let self doubt creep in again but it was beginning to slip beneath the cracks.
“Hey,” Steve murmurs suddenly, stepping closer to you in the water and causing you to jump slightly, your arms wrapping around yourself as though wanting to cover the parts of you that left Steve’s mouth feeling dry.
And Steve—he can see right through you. Because he noticed everything about you and so, of course he had noticed the way you had been quiet after a shopping trip with Robin, how your face had once fallen when your thighs had clapped together in front of him and he had noticed how much you wanted to cover up, even in the summer months. He noticed all of this and god—it killed him.
Because to Steve, you were the most beautiful girl in the world. And it broke his heart to think that you wanted to hide from everyone, from him.
“Hi,” you whisper back. You smile back at him but your arms are still locked around your body, your stomach pressing against your forearm in a way it didn’t a few months ago. The contact makes your stomach churn because you hated the fact it bothered you, you hated the fact that you were beginning to measure your worth by your body.
Almost like he could read your thoughts, Steve stepped even closer, his large hands gently wrapping around your wrists. He doesn’t pull them away. Not yet. He just looks back at you with a soft, kind expression that makes your heart feel as though it had doubled in size.
“I can see right through you, you know that?” Steve tells you gently, dragging a thumb across your skin and making your arm erupt with goosebumps. The sight and the knowledge that he had that effect on you makes his mouth twitch, but he doesn’t comment on it.
“What are you thinking?” He asks gently, head tilting as he studies you. “Tell me. Please.”
You swallow, heart pounding in your chest as you lift your eyes to meet his. Under his gaze, you felt every nerve in your body, you felt your pulse beneath your skin and you felt his touch, like fire against you.
“I just—” you begin, your tongue darting out to lick the corner of your mouth as you consider your words carefully. “I want to be sure if—that this isn’t pity or—or you just being nice or—”
“—pity?” Steve repeats, eyes widening slightly, completely taken aback by your words. “You think—think that I pity you? Why would I?”
As soon as the words fall from his lips, you know how ridiculous you were for even thinking that Steve would pity you over the way you look. Because this was Steve and he was kind, honest and genuine.
“I just—I don’t feel great about myself right now and—I guess that find it hard to believe that you would—you know—”
“—like you?” Steve asks and your breath hitches as he tugs your arms away from your stomach so he could rest one hand on your hip. “Be attracted to you? Is that so hard to believe?”
You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, trying hard not to think about Steve touching you right now, trying not to think about the others who were pretending not to watch this exchange with baited breath.
“Not because I think you’re too shallow or anything I just—I just find it hard to believe anyone would—”
Something inside of Steve breaks at your admission because fuck, you were beautiful. And he hated—hated—that there was a part of you that couldn’t see what he did.
“Do you have any idea how fucking perfect you are?” He asks, fingers gliding across your skin, over the curve of your hip, your lower back (dangerously close to the top of your ass) and finally over your stomach. “I mean—shit—this bikini it—it’s killing me. You look—fuck—I can’t even really say or I’m going to embarrass myself but you’re gorgeous and I’m not just saying that to be nice. I’m saying it because it’s true. You. Are. Beautiful. And I hope to god that one day you’ll be able to see yourself from my point of view. See how fucking gorgeous you are.”
“But until then,” Steve murmurs, lifting a hand to gently cup your cheek, holding you as though you were something precious. “I don’t know how else to convince you other than—”
He doesn’t finish his sentence because before you could even begin to understand what was about to happen—he was tugging your body flush against his and leaning in to brush his lips against yours. His mouth was warm, soft and he was kissing you so gently that you were struggling to remember how to breathe, even your own name was a blur.
The sounds of Robin screaming in delight, of Eddie and Jonathan both cheering and Dustin pretending to gag all turned into nothing as you kissed Steve back. A warmth spreads through your stomach as he groans softly against your lips, tilting your head back just so to deepen the kiss.
Truthfully, you could have kissed him for hours. Days, even. Especially when you parted your lips and his tongue eagerly licked into your mouth, brushing against yours and causing a fire in your gut that had you clinging to his biceps in order to keep yourself tethered to him.
“Keep it PG guys!” Eddie yells and you both finally pull away, breathless and struggling to form a coherent sentence. “There’s children present!”
“Sorry,” Steve grins, lips swollen and cheeks a little flushed as his fingers splay across your hip as though desperate to explore more of your curves, eager to touch every part of you that had kept him awake at night. “My girl’s just hard to resist.”
Heat blooms across your face as the girls squeal and Dustin groans in disgust.
“Your girl?” You whisper back to Steve with a small smile.
“Yeah,” Steve murmurs, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek—chaste but leaves your skin burning. “That okay?”
“More than okay,” you tell him with a smile that was almost painful to hold back.
“Food’s ready!” Jonathan calls out. The kids all race out of the water but you stay next to Steve, your body thrumming with want as his hand finally allows itself to dip to the swell of your ass beneath the water.
“You want to grab food?” You ask him, trying to keep a straight face as his fingers squeeze the globe of your ass.
“Think I need five minutes,” Steve says with a slightly sheepish expression, leaning in to press a kiss to your hairline. “Maybe ten. Blame the bikini.”
You laugh and Steve can’t help but join you, that doubt in your ribcage lessening just enough to not think twice as his hands continue to roam over your body.
“Hey Steve!” Robin calls out. “I um—I think I got mustard on your hat.”
Summary: You're happy. You have a lovely home, a wonderful husband and four bright girls. So, why does Olruggio suddenly make your heart race? And why does Qifrey not seem to mind?
Pairing: Poly!Qifrey/Reader/Olruggio
Genre: Romance, Drama, Hurt/Comfort
Tags: qifrey is a freak and olruggio has a panic attack; multichapter, Established Relationship, polyamory, love confessions, major character injury, accidental love confessions, angst, hurt/comfort, original characters used as plot devices, cross-posted to AO3, no beta cause i post for fun and for free
Word count: 4,027
Rating: T
chapter 3 - chapter 4
Olruggio stood beside Qifrey as he watched his companion work. He was propped against the table, one arm holding his weight while the other sat on his hip.
Qifrey had called him in here only a half hour ago, you and the girls were fast asleep, unaware of what was happening.
In front of Qifrey was a small round contraption. A red Kalhn gem, polished to perfection, sat comfortably in gold plated metal. The gem wasn’t rare. Olruggio had seen it, and used it, many times. It was a common decorative piece in Kalhn, used as altar details, jewelry gifts and bead embellishments. It was probably part of the reason that Qifrey chose it. It wasn’t unusual, or strange and fit right in with the world around it.
“Can you look at this seal for me?” Qifrey asked.
“Qifrey, you can’t give this to her.” Olruggio said.
Qifrey looked up at him, gaze penetrating over the rim of his glasses.
“You know why I have to,” Qifrey said. Of course Olruggio knew why. He just didn’t like it. You wouldn’t like it. Was it necessary? Maybe, Olruggio wasn’t sure. He only just learned about the threat that Qifrey was scrambling to neutralize.
After Senaka’s visit to the atelier and your reluctance to explain it, Qifrey pulled Olruggio to the side. Told him that there was no client, no job. He’d been looking for a brimcap who’d been leaving evidence of themself to everyone in Kalhn, sloppy spells and taunting sigils. They wanted to be found but didn’t want to make it easy. He’d been keeping a secret from him, and you, for at least two months.
Olruggio would say the reveal spiked his irritation but he could only sigh.
“Are you going to tell her what it is?” Olruggio asked. Qifrey often purposefully negated information, not out of malicious intent or psychotic manipulation but rather the paranoid belief that not knowing was sometimes better than knowing. He meant well, Olruggio knew that, despite not making the best decisions.
“Of course I will, she has to be the one to activate it.” Qifrey said it like it was obvious, like a tracking necklace was some casual gift made of nothing but sparkling red gems and a loving touch.
Olruggio sighed but pulled up a stool and fell onto it. He grunted as he held out his hand, asking for the contraption. He knew he had no other option than to look at it. Qifrey was going to give it to you either way, the least he could do was make sure the thing didn’t shatter after one use or burn your skin where it would rest against your chest.
Olruggio plucked a loupe from the edge of the desk, squeezing the cylindrical piece between brow and cheek to hold it in place in front of his eye. Qifrey moved the spotlight above them, casting a concentrated glow over Olruggio’s hands.
“What is it exactly supposed to do?” He asked, rotating the piece in his fingers. The weight was good, comfortable. Not too large, not too small. It was warm from Qifrey’s touch. He’d done well with designing it.
“A part of the seal is sketched on the gem and on the back of the fauceting. When you press it,” he reached over and gently popped the gem into place with a soft click. It flickered briefly before puttering out. “It glows, and triggers two rings to tell the wearer that something is wrong.”
Olruggio popped the gem out of its placement with the back of a wooden tool. He raised it to the light to examine the spell.
“It needs to be inscribed.” He said. He ran his thumb over the back of the gem and the markings smudged. “This ink won’ hold, ah know it’s used for painting like this but the constant friction will wear it down in days, whether it’s activated or not.” This ink couldn’t handle the heat of the body like it could outdoor temperature. Paired with the elements and human sweat it was bound to dissolve.
Qifrey peered under the light. He rocked forward a little for a better view. “I trust you.” He said simply. Olruggio glanced at him but didn’t reply. He reached for the searneedle pen, plucking it from a glass holder and activating it. It hummed with heat.
Just as he was about to press the needle to the back of the gem, Qifrey’s hand snaked underneath the table and settled on Olruggio’s closest thigh. The gesture was casual and Qifery made no comment as his long fingers squeezed gentle.
Olruggio was suddenly having a very hard time concentrating.
His finger twitched and he willed himself to focus. This sigil was sensitive and the slightest mistake would ruin everything.
Qifrey’s hand rolled tortuously, caressing Olruggio’s leg. Olruggio gripped the pen tighter, the steady hand of an inventor nearly unravelled by a touch meant for a lover.
It only took only minutes for Olruggio to inscribe the spell, even with his distraction.
Olruggio placed the finished gem on the table, before reaching for the metal bed it would sit in. Out of the corner of his eye, Olruggio could see that Qifrey was watching him work, rather than watching him. As if he were unaware (or good at masking) the fact that he was practically groping him. But Olruggio made no attempt to remove the touch. He actually adjusted towards it, his thigh moving just a tad closer to his friend.
When he finished searing the patterns into the metal Olruggio couldn’t put the necklace back together fast enough. He shakily placed the gem into its housing and pressed down.
Click.
Buzz. A long drawn out ring and a small light pillared in the bowl on the table. It wiggled before straightening, pinpointing the location of the pendant. Qifrey smiled, “They work perfectly.”
When Olruggio released the contraption the buzzing stopped and the light faded. He handed it to Qifrey. Qifrey’s one hand remained on his thigh but he used his free one to take the piece.
“I trust you with her, you know.” he said casually. He held the gem up to the light, watching the candle lick at the shadows of his fingers and dance along the back of the pendant. The red gem pulsed beside the flames, rolling shades of red and orange, dancing in time with the flickering candle.
Olruggio didn’t know what to say, that damn hand on his leg was already making it hard to think, so he gave up on even trying to talk.
“Olruggio, has she said anything to you?” Qifrey asked suddenly. The question jolted the other man back into reality, only a little less dazed by their bodies being so close.
“What?” Olruggio asked.
Qifrey hummed, “ah, I mean, has she shown any interest.”
“In what?” Olruggio questioned. Qifrey looked at him like you would look at a wounded dog, with nothing empathetic understanding. Was he? Olruggio’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth to respond, but Qifrey smiled gently and spoke before he could get the next words out.
“Nothing,” Qifrey said, “Do not worry, my friend.”
The word friend was heavy, falling from his tongue with something adjacent more to that of a lover. Olruggio’s heart pulsed, he felt sweat bead at his brow.
Qifrey was married. He was married to you. But the way he spoke to him, the way he has spoken to him, dug a hole in his heart that he has never been able to fill. Never been able to satisfy, and he had no right to even try and fill it.
Qifrey was married and he was married to you and he should have pulled away when Qifrey placed his hand on his leg, but he didn’t, Qifrey never does anything by accident, it’s always calculated, this was no different, right,
and when Olruggio held you beside him at the market the other day and when your hands fell to his chest after waking up, they left the same heated touch as Qifrey’s did now, grounding, rich, addictive, but Qifrey was married and he was married to you and Olruggio knew he had no right to get in between that, but Qifrey was suggesting that he could just—right, right, right—?
“Master Qifrey? Are you awake?”
Olruggio nearly jumped out of his skin. Qifrey pulled his hand away, the weight of him now a ghost, the heat of him gone. “Yes, Tetia? Another nightmare?”
“...yes…” she said, defeated.
“I am coming, my dear. Let me clean up and I will help you settle back to bed.” Qifrey shuffled about the room, pulling on his evening robe and dropping the necklace in the bowl with the rings. He slipped out of the room silently, only looking back at Olruggio once, a glint in his eye.
“I mean it, Olruggio, I trust you with everything.”
When the door clicked shut behind him Olruggio let out a shuttering breath and rubbed his face with a trembling hand, barely concealed by his work.
“Fuck.”
That necklace haunted him for the rest of the night.
“Have you lost your mind, Qifrey?” You hissed. It was late, well into the evening, and the three of you were sitting in the living room. You’d been restless for the better half of the week. You could barely sleep and every little thing made you jump. Qifrey’s soothing hums and delicate caresses did nothing to ease you into the realm of dreams. You’d jerk awake every few minutes, the faint sound of phantom thunder and the rattle of the brass door knob rocking you from sleep.
Your nerves were fried and Qifrey suddenly telling you that he was going to the great hall to do some research, burnt out the last bit of stable light you had.
Olruggio sat awkwardly on the floor when you shot up from the couch, watching you carefully.
“Darling—”
“Do not ‘darling’ me, husband. You can’t just leave with all this going on!” You kept your voice low not wanting to wake the children, but the power behind it, the irritation was clear.
“I have to do this,” he said gently, reaching for your hand. You pulled back, and Olruggio could see the flicker of hurt that darted across Qifrey’s face. Part of him felt bad, but another part of him didn’t. He’d warned him this would cause a rift the longer he hid it.
“You have people in this home who need you here,” you said. You tried to not let your lip tremble. From the frustration, from the fear, from the anger. “We need you here. I need you here.” Your voice faltered.
“What if he comes back, Qifrey? What if he takes one of the girls from us.” You don’t know combat magic like they do, you never had the interest to learn, and you certainly never had the need to. Regular witches didn’t have the need for fighting.
He opened his mouth to speak and you cut him off when the realization struck you, “he’s going to come back, isn’t he? How long have you known?” Out of the corner of your eye, Olruggio dipped into his work and you knew you’d discovered something you shouldn’t have.
Your husband sighed. “You don’t have a client do you, Qifrey?”
“No, I do not.” When a lover slips out of bed in the middle of the night to dip away to privacy or when they stay out working late again and again, the conclusion is rather simple. A secret lover, a midnight rendezvous.
Yours was not so simple. You had other worries, stranger ones, because when your husband did exactly that it meant he was putting himself in danger not slinking off to have an affair. It just always takes you a while to realize it.
“How long?”
“A few months. The first time I recognized it was him we were at the market.” It’s been weeks since that day. He’s known for weeks and was only telling you now?
Olruggio was not spared your wrath, “you knew too, didn’t you?”
“…for only a week o’ so…” he mumbled, shrinking to avoid your fire. He was scared of those flames.
“Out of all the stupid things both of you have done!” Your eyes burned from frustration. Tears prickled the back of them and you struggled to keep your voice steady.
Here you were, beating yourself up for hiding a palm quire for a week and your husband knew about everything for months. You’d done the same thing yourself, in all honesty, but the bubbling irritation that all three of you seemed incapable of asking for help and now wanting to worry about each other was a testament, in your mind, as to why you were together.
“You didn’t tell me, you didn’t warn me!” You gripped the front off your night gown, the robe over it heavy and suffocating, “what if he took one of our girls! I could have seen him anywhere, he’s clearly following us. I would have known to avoid him, to tell—our girls you two. Our children!”
Days of little sleep and constant anxiety burst from you in a waterfall of tears. You gripped the edge of the couch to keep yourself from collapsing, the world was blurry. You could saw Qifrey, a mass of white and grey, reach for you but you stepped back to avoid him. Stumbling.
Warm hands fell to your lower back, supporting you and keeping you from falling bottom first into the glowing hearth. “Aye, let’s sit.”
“I don’t want to sit,” you grumbled. Nonetheless you gripped Olruggio’s sleeve as he helped you settle onto the couch. He crouched in front of you as you sniffled, your mind was racing, running circles around every scenario you could think of before stopping and starting over again.
You stilled when a small wooden box was placed in your lap. Qifrey’s long fingers titled your chin up and he delicately pressed a handkerchief to your cheeks, dabbing at stress-dampened skin. “I am sorry, my love.” He said carefully. He ran pacifying thumbs over your cheeks. “I did not want you to worry.”
“Too late for that,” You bit out weakly. He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, the kiss was a shadow, a statement. You returned it weakly.
Olruggio watched the two of you quietly. It hurt him to see you like this. His hand twitched with the desire to comfort you. He wanted to place his hand on your knee, just to tell you that he was here, but he froze when Qifrey kissed you. A harsh reminder that it was not his place to do that.
“It will just be for a few days,” Qifrey said quietly. Your breath hitched, but you let him explain. “Senaka is a brimcap. There were whispers of one hiding in Kalhn, and I was trying to track him down. The last thing I ever wanted him to do was come to our home.”
“and you’re certain he’s after?” You grabbed the box, the edges digging into your hand.
“Coco. Yes. ” He said. Olruggio shifted back and settled on his bottom, bringing up a knee and resting his arm on it as he propped himself up. He stayed silent as you spoke.
This was not Coco’s first encounter with the Brimmed Caps. That poor girl had seen them once every few months since arriving at the atelier. The damned book she was given haunting her day and night. You’d thought they’d taken a break from chasing her, you’d hoped they’d given up but clearly that was not the case.
“I need to do more research. You said a storm hit when he arrived, yes?”
You nodded.
“I think he is manipulating the weather, those weeks of storms weren’t just an unusual rainy season. That was an attempt to keep everyone indoors.”
“So, he could snoop out the residents?” Olruggio said.
“Yes, precisely.” Qifrey said, as he reached for the box. “Residents would only leave for necessities, which allowed him to watch and observe. I suspect when he realized we did not live in Kalhn, he needed to find another way to smoke us out.”
He pried open the box with a gentle pop, and your eyes widened at it’s contents.
Settled comfortably a small satin cushion was a pendant, bright red and sparkling, it was connected to a golden chain.
He lifted the piece from its storage. He placed it in your hands, guiding your fingers to the facets.
“What is this?” You whispered.
You pressed into it and the pendant clicked, two bright red lights followed. Qifrey flipped his hand over to show you his fingers and situated beside his wed band was a thin gold ring lined in gemstones. They pulsed with light and the ring vibrated gently. Your eye caught Olruggio’s hand as he revealed his own, same color, same shape.
“When I heard of Senaka’s whereabouts I wanted to make something you could contact us quickly and discreetly in the event of an emergency. A portable windowway would not do. This should work, however.”
All those nights of him hidden away he was working on this. You caught Olruggio’s eye who returned it with a sheepish avoidance.
You gripped the piece between your palms as he added, “You will not be alone. Olruggio is staying with you.” Your eyes flickered to the dark haired man, he smiled at you. “Aye, you’re stuck with me until he gets back.” He bravely reached for your hand and you gripped it, allowing Qifrey to slip the necklace from your fingers.
He eased the chain around your neck, and the pendant settled just above your breasts, glowing softly across the cotton of your pajamas. Qifrey kissed the side of your head, placing his hand on top of yours and Olruggio’s.
“He will keep you perfectly safe, darling.”
Qifrey sought out Olruggio’s gaze over the crown of your head, the two stared at each other, speaking silently in that unique way only they understood.
“Perfectly safe.”
He pawed at the darkness, hands grabbing nothing but water. It flooded his eyes, filled his lungs, and he just spun and spun and spun as he was sucked into a blight of agony.
He could hear you, see your shadow above the rim of the pool, reaching for him but he couldn’t move. And when hands, that were not his, not Olruggio’s fell on your shoulders and pulled you back—
Qifrey’s eyes popped open and he inhaled deeply as he was pulled from a rather unsettling dream. It meant nothing, a whirl pool sucking him down into unfathomable darkness with no means of escape. It was normal for him. He traced the veins of the wood beams above him, the sheets of the canopy that surrounded his bed swayed gently in the earlier morning light. The sun had barely risen, illuminating the room with shades of orange and yellow. The sweat on his brow dried with the cool morning air.
Senaka had been on his mind since he’d fallen to sleep. The mystery of the man and the threat he held over them a haunting lullaby.
“Hmm…” you were curled at his side, head resting on his chest. He brought a hand up and gently brushed your hair from your face. You slept peacefully, finally, after nearly weeks of unsettled rest. Your gown, skewed and uneven from adjusting in your sleep. The rays of light caught the pendant around your neck, reflecting the gem across your chest. You’d not taken it off since he’d given it to you. He was happy for that, it eased him, if only a little. His ring sat securely on his finger.
He glanced at the wall clock opposite of the bed, it moved thoughtlessly, hands on 7 and 6. He sighed.
He needed to get up, but he didn’t want to disturb you. He always found sweet satisfaction in how you clung to him at night, hand desperately clenching his night shirt and nuzzling as close as you possibly could.
He tried to slide from underneath you but you whined. He smiled and kissed the top of your head, hand caressing your cheek as he tried again. He evaded your touch the second time and managed to leave the bed without tripping. You groaned and rolled, pawing the bedsheets. He crouched when your eyes cracked open, looking for him blearily. He thumbed your cheek, “I am going now.” he said gently.
You hummed, half aware. You knew he was leaving this morning but the exhaustion sat so deep in your bones that you barely had the energy to speak. “Come back soon?” You muttered, burrowing further into the pillows. “Of course,” he said softly. He kissed you delicately, and all you could do was hum in satisfaction before being lulled back to sleep. Thank goodness. He was sure he’d be able to leave if you begged him to stay again.
Qifrey rose and dressed, pulling the curtains to the canopy closed just before he left the room.
He stood in the kitchen now, tucking bread and dried meat into a sack. Checking to make sure he had enough ink and parchment for spells.
“Goin’ away for a while are yuh?” Olruggio leaned against the wall, watching him casually. His accent was thicker in the mornings.
Qifrey continued packing, “I hope for just a day or so. I won’t be long.”
“Aye, like I’ll believe that.” Olruggio hummed. Qifrey’s plans always derailed in one way or another, and Olruggio was always prepared for that inevitability. Qifrey, from the way he was packing, was too.
Qifrey’s face was set in melancholy, “She will get lonely.”
“Well, that means you’ll ‘ave to hurry back.” Olruggio said. It wasn’t often that you were separated from Qifrey but it always felt like the weight of the world was suddenly crushing you when he wasn’t around.
“Will you stay with her?” Qifrey asked. He stepped in front of Olruggio who righted himself, straightening to his full height as he looked up slightly at the taller man.
“We already talked about that, I’ll keep the girls safe too.”
“Olruggio.” Qifrey said.
The dark haired man raised a brow, “Hm?”
“When I spoke to you that night, when I first started drafting the seal.”
“Yeah, wha’ about it?” Olruggio asked.
“I told you I trust you with everything. With her.” Olruggio remembered. The night was not easily forgotten.
“If she needs anything, wants anything. You do it.” Qifrey paused, rolling the next words in his mouth to taste them before saying, “If you want to give her anything, you’re more than welcome to. I’m sure she’d like it.” Olruggio’s breath hitched and his eyes darted to Qifrey’s lips before catching the man’s bright blue eyes.
Olruggio muttered the phrases to himself, lips mouthing the movements, trying to understand exactly what he meant. He couldn’t possibly—?
Qifrey didn’t break eye-contact as he secured the bag around his chest, and grabbed his cap off the hook by Olruggio’s head. Olruggio followed his movements. They were steady, assured. When he pulled his arm down he paused, glancing at Olruggio’s lips just before he leaned in and brushed his against Olruggio’s cheek instead. It was so light that if Olruggio wasn’t paying attention he would have thought it was a brush of the breeze.
“I will be back soon.” He placed his cap on his head, “Stay safe, Olly.”
He swept past Olruggio, his strides long as he exited the atelier with a click of his heels, leaving his life long friend with too many thoughts to organize and a racing heart.
Ya'll know that DBZ movie scene where Vegeta was fighting this big ass alien and wouldn't let anyone else fight?
When Bulma threatened not to bathe with him anymore, the speed in which he went back to her and let the others fight was hilarious. Mans has such a soft spot for his wife...
ANYWAYSSS
That with Heian Era Sukuna☺
I might write something about it, it'll be short tho😛
Thinking about biting Heian Era Sukuna's biceps....
Yes all four of his arms are going to be chew toys...
Imagine!
Heian Era!Sukuna, just lounging about in his palace, no care to the world. He ordered that no one bother him or face the gruesome consequences.
In comes his wife, feet pitter-pattering across the floor. She just came from a stroll outside and is looking for a bite to eat. She saw Sukuna, just laying there, way too peacefully for her opinion.
Then she looked at him, more specifically his biceps, glowing from the bright light of the sun. It's like a meal set just for her.
So she skipped her way towards him, not a care in the world, climbs onto his lap, and bites his upper right bicep.
Sukuna just let's her do it, that's his wife 🤷♀️. He's laying there, smiling, as his wife litters bite marks on all four of his arms. He looked like a chew toy but he's right where he wants to be.
Thank ya'll for the love on the last Heian Era! Sukuna post! I'm obsessed with him (if you can't tell😛😛) Ima write more me thinks....
Heian era Sukuna and his 'frail' little wife who actually is a quiet crashout.
Imagine...
A rude minister being a sexist fuck and telling Sukuna to get more concubines.
Sukuna's wife, sitting on his lap in the throne room, wrapping her arms around his neck, whispering: If you do not get rid of him right now, I will not be talking to you for the rest of your life.
Sukuna being the attentive husband that he is, mutilated the man in front of everyone.
hello fellow artists. google has fallen. pinterest/duckduckgo AI filters don't work. do not despair; here is a list i made of places to find reference images without having to sift through piles of worthless garbage. (for future editing convenience i am just linking my blog post on dreamwidth.)
✨ good places to find art reference that are not full of AI trash 🌈
