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justmeinadaze · 1 year

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

A/N: *melts into goo* I swear the vibes I get from this story and where I can go with it are a mix of Ariana Grande's "Dangerous Woman" and "I Didn't Change My Number" but Billie Eilish lol That lost song is actually where I got the title because I saw a TikTok where some did the Steddie AI followed by the lyrics "Take it out on you...and your best friend to."

So this is set in the 80s and I chose to make the reader plus size because I haven't done it before with these two and because we plus sized babes are sexy bitches ;). (All you souls, no matter your size are beautiful. Never forget that <3)

Warnings: Dominate Steddie and Sub Reader, she's not a virgin but she's definitely new to this. Everything in this story is consensual! Even though they are rough with her they do come up with a safe word and tell her she can stop if she wants (and they would! I would never write a version of these boys who wouldn't.)

There is degrading (mostly about how the reader wants to be used), spanking, choking... rough smut for sure but followed with aftercare.

Word Count: 3953

This wasn’t normal for you. You never got in trouble at school but today was just one of those days. Carol was picking on you again because of your appearance. Every day it was something different. Your hair looked flat, your clothes were hideous, or something you were reading at the lunch table made you “a dork”.

Today, it was how fat your ass looked in your jeans. You slammed your locker shut as you turned to face her. “At least I have an ass, you ugly bitch!”

“Y/N Y/L/N!”, Ms. O’Donnell scolded. You hadn’t even noticed she was there. She sent you to the principal’s office where he gave you a week’s worth of detention after school.

You were surprised when you entered the designated classroom to find it empty except for the teacher in charge.

“Ah Miss Y/N, I presume. In for offensive language and bullying a fellow student. Come in and have a seat. I’m waiting on two more.”

You flash him a soft smile as you slide into the desk in the front corner. The door opens again and fear dances through your eyes as Steve Harrington saunters in and throws himself down in a desk in the middle of the room.

“Our very own basketball and swim star himself, Steven Harrington. Currently in detention today fooooor…”, the teacher looks at the papers in front of him. “Being caught in the girl’s bathroom. Huh. Did you get lost?”

Before he could respond, the final student entered loudly swinging the door open as he flew in. “Hey! Mr. C! How are we this fine afternoon?”

“Mr. Eddie Munson. Always a pleasure, sir. What are we in for today?”

“I may or may not have caused a disruption in the lunchroom today.”

“Mhmm. Well, since everyone is here, we can start. Detention begins at 5pm sharp and if you aren’t here on time, I do get to tell the principal who will do with you as he will.”

“Sounds sexy.”, the metalhead grins as he sits on top of a desk and crosses his legs.

“Mr. Munson, I know you’ve heard this many, MANY times but for the new prisoners can you please…shut up.” The boy salutes him as the teacher continues. “The majority of the time, you guys will be here, SILENTLY, doing homework or reading, I really don’t care. Just be quiet. Depending on what is going on that day this week we may help out with things. The theater kids have a play on Friday and need help with the sets. As I’m sure Mr. Harrington knows, there’s also a game so the pep squad may need stuff set up.”

“Other than that, let’s just shut up and get through the week, okay?”

The first twenty minutes go by extremely slow as you try to focus on the homework in front of you. After a while, you felt someone watching, turning your head to see Steve staring at you. Something in those admittedly gorgeous brown irises sent a tingle through your body. It felt like he was trying to read you with the little information he had in front of him.

You jumped as a loud beeping echoed through the room and a small devious smile spread across his face.

“Shit.” The teacher pulled his beeper off his belt, furrowing his eyebrows anxiously. “That’s my wife. I’m going to make a quick call but if I come back and I catch you all talking or fucking around…” He points at the metalhead accusingly as he runs out the door.

“Jesus Christ. I thought he would never leave.” Eddie sighed as he got up and slid into the desk in front of Steve reaching out to high five him. “Harrington. What are you in for?”

“Fucking Tammie told Ms. Luhrmann I was hiding in the girl’s bathroom.”

“You pervert.”

“It’s not what you think, ok! I left Nancy a note but she never showed up.”

“I told you, man. You need to stay away from those good girls. Speaking of…” Eddie swivels around on the desk to face you. “What are you in for, sweetheart?”

You curl a bit into your body, hoping they’ll just leave you alone. You don’t belong here. This isn’t normal for you. You just wanted to get through the week and never think about this again.

Two hands, one of them covered in rings, come into your field of view in front of you as they press against your desk. “I asked you something, princess. Don’t be rude now.”

You closed your eyes at the deep tone of his voice. He sounds so sexy…

“She can definitely speak. Talked back to Carol today. It was amazing.”

That grabbed your attention as you turned to look at him. When you yelled at Carol, he wasn’t in the immediate group but he must have been nearby. They were his friends after all.

“What did that bitch say?” Eddie asked Steve but his eyes never left you.

“Said she had a fat ass.” The other boy rolls his eyes.

“And what did you say?” He asks, speaking to you again.

Your eyes found his before they left to scan you lips, down your curvy body, and back up to your face.

“Boo!” Eddie shouted as he slammed his palms on the wood in front of you, making you jump again. He and Steve both chuckled as he sauntered away, back to his friend.

“She commented on the fact that Carol lacks any kind of an ass and then followed that up with the word ‘bitch’.”

“Ooooh, you bad girl. You’re not wrong. That evil little person has nothing behind her. I prefer a girl who has some extra umph you know? Plus, their pussy always tastes the sweetest.”

You exhaled shakily at his words, having only heard or read them in stories. You definitely weren’t a virgin. You had been with men and had boyfriends but none of them ever spoke like Eddie had. They were always extremely shy type guys who had no idea what they were doing on top of you.

“Mr. Munson!” The teacher came back, sighing with his hands in the air. “Really?”

“Sorry, Mr. C. I had a question for the pretty girl but she doesn’t seem to be capable of speech.”

“I don’t blame her when it comes to you.”

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

The next day, you became more aware of Eddie and Steve’s presences. You didn’t realize you actually had a couple of classes with Steve and lunch with both he and Eddie. The metalhead’s eyes watched you walk past the Hellfire club table as you tried to ignore him and the other boy constantly turned to glace at you as he ate with his friends.

At the end of the day, you filed into the detention room, surprised to find both boys already there and seated in the front row, much closer to you than they were yesterday.

“Ok troublemakers, collect your things, we are headed to the theater room.”

“I believe thespians refer to it as an auditorium, sir.” Eddie replied in a comical voice that made you smile but only Steve caught it.

“Yeah whatever. I don’t care. Just paint and behave. I’ll be right back there watching so no funny business.”

“Can we talk, Warden or is that still a no-no?”

“Yes, Mr. Munson. You can speak as long as you paint.”

You descend to your knees and they both follow suit. Steve reaches over for the paintbrushes but as he leans over towards you, he lifts it out of your grasp and hands it to his friend.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want something? You gotta ask for it.”, he smiled over at you as he waited. “No? Ok then.”

“Please.”

They froze as he sat back to look you over. “Please what?” He laughs as your face scrunches in disgust. “I don’t know what you want unless you ask me for it.”

“Please, Steve…can I have a brush?”

He nods as he passes it to you and you immediately duck down again to focus on the task in front of you.

“Your voice is pretty. You should talk more.” Eddie’s eyes remained on the board as he painted.

“It’s not that she doesn’t want to talk. She just doesn��t want to talk to us.”

You don’t know why but hearing Steve say it like that made you feel bad. It wasn’t exactly that you didn’t WANT to. You just didn’t trust or know them. King Steve was close friends with the people that tortured you daily and Eddie was the resident bad boy your parents warned you to stay away from. They both intimated you greatly not just because of their air of dominance but because you wanted them to wield it on you.

You wanted them to use you until you or they couldn’t take it anymore and that scared the hell out of you. You were so inexperienced when it came this stuff plus…how do you explain that to someone? Shouldn’t you want to be wined and dined? Yes, you did. You absolutely did but you wanted to be fucked senseless first.

“I do want to talk to you.”

“Then why don’t you?”, Eddie asked.

“You scare me.”

“Well, shit, sweetheart. I’m not a fucking devil worshipper like these asshole people think.”

“It’s not just you and that’s not why.”

“I’ve never made fun of you, Y/N.”

“Oh, hey. She has a name! Steve, you should have told me.”

“Yeah, you never made fun of me but you never stopped them either. You laughed along with them while they picked on me and degraded me in front of the entire school. You’re just as much an asshole as they are.”

“Y/N!”, the teacher hollers from his seat. “As much as I am enjoying watching you tear the king of Hawkins high a new one, I don’t see much painting happening.”

Blinking, you shut your mouth and begin moving the brush again.

“If you ever talk to me like that again, I don’t care where we are or who is in the room, I will throw you over my knee and punish you. Do you understand me?” You turn to look him, finding his angry eyes penetrating yours. “I said, do you understand me?”

“Steve, come on.” Eddie rolls onto his back as he stares up you. “She doesn’t play like that. Do you? Probably still a virgin.”

“I’m not a virgin.”

“I see. Ok, not a virgin but definitely not a hardcore kind of girl, right? You like the missionary, vanilla, candles by the bed, listening to slow 70s tunes. Am I right?”

“You don’t know me. Jesus, no wonder you two are friends.”

“Oh wow, Eds. Look at her. No, she doesn’t like that at all. I mean, on some nights yeah, but you prefer being told to shut the fuck up and do as your told.”

“N-n-no. I don’t.”

Your answer makes them giggle. “I would not have pictured that. You like being used?”

“Edward Munson! I swear to God. If I have yell at you guys one more time, we are going back to the classroom to sit silently.”

As detention came to a close, the teacher asked if you wouldn’t mind staying a little later to put everything away. You agreed especially since he told the guys they could leave. You needed that space away from them.

When Steve scolded you, you felt your panties dampen but you meant what you said. He never did anything to keep the popular kids from picking on you. You saw him laugh with them multiple times. Thinking about Eddie asking if you liked being used, had your pussy clenching around nothing as you rubbed your thighs together. You didn’t know enough about him to really form an opinion. The town talked about him a lot and his club he had at school but you two never crossed paths.

You kept thinking about them as you collected your things and headed down the hallway to leave for the day. Suddenly, a hand covered your mouth as arms lifted you by your waist into a nearby open classroom.

“Hey, sweetheart. Steve and I wanted us to finish our conversation. Now that that asshole isn’t here, we can!” Your eyes widen as you listen to Eddie speak. His tone light but there’s a strength behind it that frightens (and excites) you. “Now, where did we leave off? Ah, yes. You were just about to tell us if you liked being used.”

Steve lifted his palm from your lips, resting it gently against your throat. “Please.”

“Nope. We already had that discussion. You have to say what you want to get it.” Eddie sighs as you push back against the man behind you and he quickly tightens his grip on your neck. “Sweetheart, give me a word. Any word you feel like you’ll remember in any…overwhelming situation.” His eyes seductively raked along your body.

“Vanilla.” You aren’t sure why that’s the first word that came to mind but it was the only thing you could think of as Steve loosened his grip and your head fell back against him.

“If there’s one thing you are not, baby, it’s vanilla but… that’s fine. If at ANY point during our little talk here you feel unsafe or you want to stop just say that word. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, I understand.”

He steps forward, running his thumb along your bottom lip. “Good girl.” His fingers trailed down to your shirt, grinning before he roughly ripped it open exposing your bra covered breasts. “Now…I’m only going to ask one more time. Do you…like…being used?”

“I-I-I don’t know. I want t-t-to be.”

His eyes widened in genuine surprise.

“You said you’re not a virgin, right?”, Steve asked and you shook your head.

“Aw, Harrington. What she’s telling us is she’s never been fucked properly. Is that right?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Eddie, that’s right.”

The metalhead rolls his eyes in frustration and takes a few steps back. Steve flips you around and slams your upper body down against the desk, reaching around to unbutton your pants as he pulls them below your ass. You hear the sound of a lighter being closed before the echo of his palm slapping your skin reverberates through the room.

As a handcuff belt buckle places itself in front of you, the smell of smoke fills the air.

“Sweetheart, this would go a lot smoother if you just listened and did as you were told.” He bent down on his heels so his face was level with your own. “Yes. What?”

“Yes, Eddie, I’ve never been fucked properly.”

“That’s better.”

Steve’s hand moves to hold your face flat to the wood and your arms reach to claw in front of you. You whine as he spanks you again. “Stop moving!”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m…” Your apology trails off as the tears start to fall down your cheeks.

Eddie balances the cigarette between his fingers as he runs his thumb under your eye. The gesture was sweet in contrast and he noticed you begin to settle. His eyes flicked above you and a few moments pass before Steve slides his hand off your head to between your shoulder blades.

“You said you were afraid of us. Why?”

When you don’t immediately answer he sighs and the other boy delivers two hard slaps to your bottom. Instead of pushing back or fighting underneath the weight of his palm holding you down, you laid still, accepting it. The only movements you made were with your face as you winced at the feeling.

“Why?”, he repeats.

“Be-be-because of… how you m-m-make me feel.”, you whisper.

“Did you hear that, Stevie?”, Eddie smirked up at him.

“Just barely but yeah. Y/N, I was there when you shouted at Carol, remember? I know you can speak louder than that.”

Your face scrunched at his words and the metalhead held his chest as he laughed. “It kills you doesn’t it, princess? To both hate someone AND want them at the same time.”

Suddenly, you felt yourself being lifted as Steve tugged on your shirt and adjusted you so you were facing him again. “You hate me, Y/N?”

When you took too long, his fingers pinched your cheeks roughly as he tilted forward till his nose was touching yours. “I asked you a question. You fucking answer! Do you hate me?!”

“Yes! You fucking asshole! I hate you!” You defiantly glared at him as you screamed at him.

“His friends kind of suck. They don’t even know about me. Do they, Harrington?” Eddie snuffed out his cigarette, tossing the butt in the garbage. “I mean it’s fine. I don’t care. What I do find fascinating through is this electricity between you two even though you both hate each other.”

“I don’t hate her.” Your eyelids fluttered at his admission. Why did you torture you with his friends if it wasn’t because he didn’t like you? “If I hated her, I wouldn’t want to make her cum right now.”

Eddie pressed himself to your side as his lips hovered over your ear. “Has anyone ever made you cum before?”

You couldn’t tear your eyes from Steves and you didn’t even both trying. “No. No one has ever made cum.”

“Good girl. See? She’s learning. I knew you were smart.” Eddie’s palm slid along your shoulder, bringing your bra strap down your arm. His fingers, almost delicately, freed one of your breasts from its confine and you panted out a silent moan as the pad of his thumb grazed your nipple.

“Do you want Steve here to make you cum?”

You couldn’t help it. Your hand wrapped around the back of the other boy’s neck as you brought his lips to yours. The first thing you noticed was how delicious he tasted. You felt like you could orgasm just from this alone. His hands remained still against your hips except for the little twitch of his fingers when your mouths connected.

Your bliss was short lived as a hand abruptly clung to your neck and violently shoved your back flat to the desk.

“Did I ask you if you wanted to fucking kiss him?!” You trembled as Eddie angrily shouted in your face. His gripped tightened against your neck for a brief moment before he let go and you turned to the side as you gasped for air.

“Munson.” The metalhead glanced at Steve realizing quickly the man was gone. His eyes were black with lust and need, practically hyperventilating as his hands dug into your meaty hips. “Jesus fucking Christ. Fine. She said she wanted to be used. I guess we’re doing it this way since someone can’t fucking listen.”

Steve hastily unbuckled his belt, pushing down his pants just enough to free his cock before spitting in his hand and stroking it along his length. You gasped as he breached your entrance, giving you no time to adjust to the size of him as he stretched you open. He was much bigger than anyone you had every been with and you cried out as you reached out into the air, grazing your hand along Eddie’s shirt as you grabbed the fabric.

“How does she feel, Harrington?”

The man’s grunts filled the room as he slammed his hips into yours. “So, fucking tight. My god.” He slowed his pace as he craned his neck to watch between your legs as his dick disappeared inside of you.

As you continued to moan, you focused on Eddie as he unzipped his pants and pulled out his own cock, pumping it with his fist. “Open your mouth, princess.” You did as you were told as his fingers tangled in your hair, pushing you lips to length. “Good girl. Fuck me…” His teeth bit into his bottom lip as he slowly thrust hips.

The feeling of you moaning around him causes him to wipe his head towards Steve, watching as the boy pressed rapid circles into your clit. With both of them inside of you, you were quickly hurtling toward that ledge.

“Yes, pretty girl. Take it. Fuck…your mouth feels amazing.”

Both boys thrust into at a fast pace, Steve slamming his hips into yours so hard the desk underneath you began to shake. You started to gag and gurgle around Eddie’s cock.

“Wh-what, baby? You gonna cum? That’s right. Just let go and feel it.”

He pulled himself out from between your lips, continuing to pump himself as he watched you. Your body shook as your back arched and you came.

Steve murmured obscenities under his breath as your pussy clenched around him.

“God damn. That was so fucking sexy.” The metalhead shoved his cock back into your mouth as they both chased their highs.

Steve came first, pulling out of you just as he released ropes of his seed on to your stomach. Eddie soon followed, holding your head in his firm grip as he came down your throat.

You laid flat against the desk, staring up at the ceiling as you tried to catch your breath. As you heard them pull up their pants, you half expected them to leave you there having got what they wanted but were startled when you felt a napkin being run along your stomach.

“Geez. Always so jumpy.” Eddie gripped your arm as he helped you sit up so he could adjust your bra and shirt. “Shit.” You followed his eyes realizing what he did; that when he tore open your shirt a lot of the buttons flew off with it. On impulse you covered your chest with your arms as you tried thinking of excuses to give your mom when you got home.

While his face furrowed in thought, Steve lifted you off the desk and guided your pants up your legs before buttoning them back up.

“I got it.”, the metalhead snapped his fingers as he tugged his shirt over his head. Gently, he removed your blouse, handing it the other boy before throwing his own over your head. He smiled in triumph at himself as he walked around you both towards the student desks and put on his leather jacket.

“Do you drive here or…?”, Steve asked.

“Yeah, my car is out front.”

“Good. Come on. We’ll walk with you.”

As they started to head for the door, you reached for Eddie’s arm, turning him around, and yanked him to your body as you leaned up to kiss him. It startled him at first but after moment he keened into it as his hands cupped your cheeks. He definitely tasted different than Steve but you still wanted more. You could kiss him all night if he let you.

After pulling away, you pushed past them and headed for the parking lot, feeling their eyes watch you as they followed. When you guys got to the parking lot, you were thankful for the slight breeze as it cooled your still somewhat sweaty skin.

There were only three cars remaining; yours, the BMW you assumed was Steve’s, and Eddie’s van. Steve reached across you, cutting you off as he opened the vehicle door for you. You paused for a moment before turning to look at them. You weren’t sure what you were expecting but the soft eyes that looked back at you were completely different than what you had experienced these last two days.

You wanted to say something but weren’t sure what. Thankfully, they understood as Eddie stepped forward, placing his hand on your shoulder as he guided you into your car.

“See you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

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@sidthedollface2 @luna-munson83 @devilinthepalemoonlite @corrodedcorpses

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inhuman-obey-me · 3 months

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Diavolo with 🕶 and MC please? I excited to see what you’d do with that?

"I saw a little thing I didn’t like you tried to hide." - Diavolo/MC

There is a whistling through the rustle of the tree branches, high-pitched and ringing in your ears like alarm bells.

Just the wind, you try to tell yourself -- but the wind has never sounded so uncannily steady with its song. Nor, usually, do you expect to hear faint words hidden in its screaming -- Die. Die. Die. But that too, surely, is just a trick of your mind?

Well, this is the Devildom, after all. The strange and unexpected are to be expected.

You don't know how to tell your lover, crown prince of this very land, that his realm still unsettles you from time to time. He has always tried his very best to make you comfortable here. He himself is proof that terrors are not always so terrifying. His wings, gilded black and extended so wide that they could have blocked out any sun if one existed here, had terrified you the first time you'd seen them in full. But, so too does the expanse of them feel gentle and loving when he wraps those wings around you, a dark cocoon in which you share your secret passions.

You love him, and you love his realm. Scary though it may be, it's beautiful, too, and you try to focus on that. This world is not so dangerous as your human instincts would have you think.

Still -- did the trees you pass on your way home always look like these?

You realize it for certain when a whisper of the breeze against your face sends a chill shivering through your whole body.

Die. Die. Die!

This is not the way home. And you are not alone here.

"Who's there?" you call out, keeping your voice as steady as you can. You have been warned not to show fear -- demons can sense it, and they love the smell of it upon their prey. "Show yourself."

Die! Die! Die!

The whistling twists into a hideous laughter, and a wavering silhouette begins to coalesce before you, its form shimmering back and forth between handsome man and beautiful woman, though you know this creature is neither.

"Puny human, daring to command me?" Its words crackle like static, caught between channels of fury and delight. "Well, I am right here. But you are the one keeping secrets, lost little lamb."

To your surprise, you recognize this voice. It is one of your classmates at RAD, one that you had always found generally pleasant towards you. "Bealphares? What do you mean?"

"I never minded Lord Diavolo's plans for harmony between the realms. I didn't object to the exchange program, when so many others did. I didn't think humans were so bad. But then, today, I saw a little thing I didn't like you tried to hide," it trills, the end of its tirade whipping back into a shriek. "Did you think a pathetic little human like you has any right to our prince?"

In an instant, the air leaves your lungs as if pulled, your ribs crushing inwards at the sudden emptiness, and you drop to your knees. You try desperately to cast a spell to protect yourself, but your breath is too empty to form the words. Bealphares steps closer, cupping your face in its hands as it leans in close to hiss, "The prince of demons belongs with a demon."

"Stop there, Bealphares."

A great shadow falls over you both, as terrifying as the day you first saw it, and Diavolo's commanding presence swoops neatly down beside you. His golden eyes glow wild with a kind of anger you've rarely ever seen in him, and the air around him grows hot with raw magic.

"Lord Diavolo!" Bealphares releases you at once, scrambling to bow before its prince. You gratefully gasp in the crisp night air as the lesser demon anxiously spits out, "I-I can explain!"

"Very well. Explain." Your beloved's cold expression does not change, glaring down at your attacker. "Explain to me, Bealphares, spirit of air, why I've arrived to find one of our human exchange students on the verge of death at your hands. That's a grave offense, to try to attack one of my guests, here in the realm I rule."

Diavolo's voice rumbles like the deep shaking of a volcano, and his fangs glint dangerously in the moonlight as he speaks. Are they longer than usual? Sharper, too, you think -- though it's hard to tell, as the light distorts around the little embers that begin wisping out with each word.

"I will give you your chance to try to justify yourself. But keep this in mind -- I have the power to tell truth from lies. And if I do not find your answer to my satisfaction, Bealphares, I will carry out your punishment personally."

He takes a heavy step between you and the demon -- protective in one sense, threatening in another. His wings are outstretched so wide that you can hardly even see the other past them, with golden veins weaving glowing energy throughout. Though you cannot see, you hear the wind of the demon's voice faltering in the heat of the air as it whimpers, failing to form words.

"Now, go on then. Explain."

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transmutationisms · 6 months

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people take architecture seriously in the wrong way the same way they do fashion. there's no universal good or bad or ugly or beautiful & you should see ample evidence of this in the mere fact that aesthetics trend in and out over time lol. the ugly white-wall flipped-house aesthetic of today is the nostalgic 2020s-core of tomorrow just as the wood panelling or banisters you love now were once passé and hideous, and before that were the cutting edge of trendy. these types of value judgments aren't interesting. yet architecture and fashion both have a capability to express in material objects various political agendas, personal manifestos, social-engineering visions, and so forth. where did these materials come from? why have they been arranged in this particular manner? what trends or pieces was the creator responding to, relying on, or emulating, and what does that indicate about their purpose or material constraints? what aesthetic language is available in this particular context of creation, and how is it being purposed here? literally so many more interesting questions that don't just lead to "things i don't like are ugly and morally offensive because society is degenerating"

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confused-bagel · 8 months

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oh character clothing requests?

silver in the biggest ugliest sweater you can imagine? like, absolutely hideous. bad to look at. he loves it though because it's cozy :)

the most offensive sweater I’ve ever colored jfkdlsajflkh

character + clothing requests are still open!

#silver the hedgehog #tw eyestrain #art request #my art

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misc-obeyme · 8 months

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hello !! may i ask lost with solomon 😔💍

Hi there, anon!

Okay, so it's fluffy Solomon hours on my blog again with this one. Just in case anyone wasn't already aware, I am in love with him. I always write him in the Nightbringer timeline, too. I think it's because there's more opportunity for fluff when MC lives with him lol.

Thanks for the request!

GN!MC x Solomon with prompt Lost

Warnings: none!

It was a cold day in the Devildom, the wind thrashing against the windows, the cloudy sky threatening rain. Solomon didn't want to go out in that weather, of course, but he really saw no way around it. He needed some potion ingredients and he really couldn't delay getting them.

Well, if he was going to go out, he had better dress warmly. He made sure to wear his trench coat, long and thick enough to help with the wind, as well as a thick pair of socks. He tucked some gloves in his pocket just in case, though he might not need them. Then he rummaged around the coat closet, looking for his scarf.

Solomon pushed aside various jackets and things, looking for the scarf that normally sat on the high shelf in the closet. It wasn't there. Had he lost it?

Solomon thought about it for a minute and found he couldn't even remember when he last wore it. You had complained about its hideous pattern, so he made sure not to wear it around you too much. But it still had to be in Cocytus Hall somewhere, right?

He sighed and cast a little tracer spell. If the scarf was in the house, he would be able to locate it this way.

The spell manifested for only a brief moment before dying out. It did not lead him anywhere, indicating that his scarf was not actually in the hall anywhere.

Well, he had tried. He wondered briefly if you had tossed it because you thought it was so ugly. The thought made him chuckle. Either that or it was lost for good. It didn't matter too much. He could always buy himself a new one. Perhaps he had better let you pick it out for him, just so he didn't have to worry about accidentally choosing a pattern you didn't like.

Solomon set out into the blustery weather, the wind pushing his silver hair all over the place. He managed to get everything he needed fairly quickly. Checking the time, he realized it was about when you normally started home for Cocytus Hall. He decided to surprise you by waiting for you outside the House of Lamentation.

Solomon watched as you waved goodbye to the demon brothers on your way out the door. You pulled your own jacket closer to yourself in the chill, the wind clearly making it slightly difficult for you to walk.

As you got closer to where he stood, you saw him and smiled. Solomon smiled back, but then he noticed something. A hint of color around your neck… was that…?

"What are you doing out here?" you asked him.

He focused his gaze back on your eyes. "I happened to be out already and I thought I'd stop by to pick you up."

You shivered a little. "You came out in this weather? It's going to rain soon, I think."

Solomon cocked his head, his smile becoming teasing as he looked at you. "Is that why you stole my horrible scarf? I was looking everywhere for it."

Solomon was rewarded by the blush that rushed to your cheeks. Your fingers brushed the fabric of the scarf that was tied around your neck and tucked into your jacket. "I couldn't find mine," you said, frowning.

Solomon chuckled. "And here I thought maybe you finally threw it away when I wasn't looking. How did you describe it again? Ghastly?"

You folded your arms. "I stand by it. This thing is truly offensive. But it was the only option."

Solomon couldn't resist tugging it out of your jacket, revealing the bright clashing colors of it, a sort of argyle combined with paisley that he had to admit was rather unsightly. He used it to pull you closer to him. "It's all right, MC. You're welcome to use my scarf any time, though I think I'll do a better job of keeping you warm myself."

Solomon laughed gently as the expression on your face revealed just how silly you thought this line was. You laughed, too, and let him pull you into his arms. "You're welcome to try, magic man."

Solomon couldn't keep the grin off his face and both of you laughed into the kiss you shared before starting off toward home.

the original prompt list

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me fluff #obey me fanfiction #obey me fanfic #obey me solomon #obey me solomon x reader #obey me solomon x mc #solomon x reader #solomon x mc #anon request #misc writes

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randoimago · 3 months

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hi kat ! um could i request some kinda hurt-comforty headcanons of reader being worried that the discrimination they face in being a drow, tiefling, or something of the like, would come to affect their romantic partner (maybe gale and shadowheart?) if they decided to get together, and their partner reacting to reader's fear that they could get hurt while with them.

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Character(s): Gale, Shadowheart

Note(s): Fantasy racism is always such an interesting thing. Kind of wish there were more "Go fuck yourself" comments you could make if you played a gnome considering there's quite a few times you can defend yourself as a tiefling or drow meanwhile gnomes are constantly clowned on (spoken by someone that played a gnome the very first time I've ever played D&D)

I wrote Gale with Drow Reader and Shart with Tiefling

Gale

Oh he definitely understands your fear but he's more concerned about your safety than his own. There is a lot of discrimination towards drow especially with the Absolute nonsense.

If he does hear anything rude said then he's casting some hideous laughter their way and taking you to a garden or a nice book store to relax with him instead.

If you're ever worried about his opinion on you because of the racism you've gotten from others, then he's more than happy to tell you all about how much he loves and appreciates you.

Shadowheart

Considering her reaction to Karlach, she definitely doesn't mind your race at all. As for how others react, she'd tell you to ignore them. The thoughts and opinions of random populace mean nothing to her.

She won't completely dismiss your worries, she understands your fear, but know that it won't make her view you any differently in her eyes. Now hold her and stop worrying!

Shadowheart really would be the one to hear someone say something rude or offensive about you and then immediately pull you into a kiss. Wouldn't care who watches. And if they continue talking crap then she has a few spells ready to go.

#Anonymous #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #shadowheart x reader #gale x reader

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wannaeatramyeon · 1 year

Text

Lunchbox for Your Boyfriend! Jake Kim, Samuel Seo

Jake Kim x Reader

"What's that, boss?"

Jake grins at Brad as he pulls out his lunch that was specially prepared by you. You had held it out to him this morning, looking exceptionally happy with yourself. Jake's expression then matched yours when he asked "For me?" and you nodded.

"Yeah, looks good!" Jason adds.

After carefully opening the lid, Jake unveils... well. Rather questionable items. At least through anybody else's eyes.

Greying meat (bless whatever poor, indistinguishable creature gave their life up for this) and wilted salad sits on one side. And there was rice - but even that looked oddly wet yet dry at the same time. The ambiguous small lumps of black, whatever the hell that was, were the final cherries on top.

All Jake saw was your love poured into this meal. He couldn't wait to tuck in.

That was not what Jason and Brad saw. They exchanged looks at the frankly inedible meal set out in front of the Head of Big Deal. Sure, you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, but if judging meant avoiding chronic food poisoning then it's just good sense, right?

"On second thoughts..." Jason murmurs, leaning away from the 'food' as Brad subtly gags.

"Huh?" Lineman pops out of nowhere, joining them at the table and trying to see what everyone was looking at. Oh... That looked. Unfortunate.

"Who shit in your lunch, boss?"

Samuel Seo x Reader

It dwells on his mind.

That ugly bento box. The bright neon pink hue, the cat pawprints on the lid. Tucked away under his desk, and wrapped in a garish purple fabric with teddy bear faces. Out of sight, but not out of mind.

You had 'tiptoed' out of bed at 5:14am. Samuel knew, because you were not quiet. You couldn't be quiet or discreet to save your life. Your heavy footsteps echoed from the bed all the way to the kitchen, and it was quickly joined by a cacaphony of saucepans or plates or whatever the fuck clashing down.

Somes days Samuel thinks he doesn't deserve you, this morning he wonders what he's done to deserve this. You had stayed up talking about nonsense until 2am, and now - inspired by bento boxes and cute lunches, was intent on making one for him.

Lovingly prepared by your girlfriend, you had said. Samuel thinks about said 'love' as you continue to bang around in the kitchen.

And then an hour later, as he pads out to greet you and ready for the day, you're covered in grease and hair in disarray but looking pleased as punch.

You hold the offending lunch outstretched in your hands. In that hideous box, and even more hideous cloth. He was sure whatever was inside would be infinitely more offensive to his senses, if your past cooking attempts were anything to go by.

With anyone else, Samuel would have scoffed and sneered. With you, he takes it with thanks and a stiff smile.

It really must be love.

#lookism #lookism x reader #jake kim #jake kim x reader #kim gimyung x reader #kim gimyeong x reader #lookism manhwa #lookism webtoon #samuel seo #samuel seo x reader #seo seongeun x reader #seo seongun x reader #lookism fanfic #lookism hc #wannaeatramyeon

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229zmi · 1 year

Text

STUCK BY THE GLUE

PAIRING: Bokuto Kōtarō/Reader

CONTENT: marriage proposal (it sucks), established relationship, title inspired by beabadoobee’s glue song

WORD COUNT: 1.7k

BOKUTO: hey hey open ur window PRONTO i need to tell u something STAT

YOU: what

BOKUTO: love of my life what part of that do you not understand I’M. OUTSIDE

YOU: WHAT

Sure enough, there’s a knock on your window and, after you haphazardly kick off your blankets and crawl over to the window and yank open the curtains, you find yourself face-to-face with a hideous, glowing, white face that resembles something you might have seen in your nightmares once. Before you can scream, however, a hand reaches up and pulls the scary face off to reveal another face underneath it, one that you recognise all too well.

You scream anyway.

“Bokuto Kōtarō?!” you screech, loud enough for him to hear through the glass. Your boyfriend just beams and nods in a manner that is too relaxed for your liking considering the horrific sight you just witnessed, and then he motions with his finger for you to open the window.

You do so with shaky hands that contrast your sharp glare directed toward him. Once there’s no longer a glass barrier separating the two of you, Bokuto is swift to lean in for a chaste kiss. Not that you’re complaining, but you feel like there are some things you should unpack first before you start romancing and all.

First and foremost: whatever thing you just saw a couple of moments ago.

You glower at him as soon as he pulls away. “Kou—“

“Why do you look so surprised?” he asks, sounding mildly confused. “I texted you I was outside, didn’t I?”

“I know that,” you hiss. “I just wasn’t expecting you to wear whatever that— that thing was. Actually,” you pause and crane your neck out the window like a giraffe to stare at the offensive object in his hands, narrowing your eyes at it suspiciously, “what is that?”

“This?” He sets it down on the windowsill in the space between your hands, front facing up for you to see better. It looks like an ordinary ski mask, except a design has been embedded into the fabric beneath the hole where the eyes are supposed to be, neatly sewn in the shape of a wide toothy smile that reminds you of something out of a horror movie. “It’s a ski mask. You know, like a, uh— what’s it called. Bald cap. Ah, no… that doesn’t seem right. Bala…clad? Hm…”

You purse your lips as his monologue continues on for another moment or two before the realisation clicks and he snaps his fingers.

“Balaclava,” he declares proudly, like he’s just made a profound discovery. Even puffs his chest out and places his hands on his hips for the full effect. “Keeps my face warm from the cold.”

“Uh-huh,” you say eloquently, not bothering to comment on how ugly the design is, and then you peer over the edge of the windowsill and nearly evaporate at the sight of his attire: a t-shirt for some band you don’t recognise, regular old pajama pants, and flip-flops (and no socks either, dogs out and everything for everyone in the neighbourhood to witness!). Definitely not suitable for the dangerously low temperatures right now.

Hurriedly, you wrap your hands around his frigid ass arm and begin pulling him through the window… or at least try to. He laughs at your feeble attempts, placing his also very cold hand over both of yours fondly. Glaring at him, you aren’t sure what’s so funny about you trying to save your boyfriend from freezing to death.

“What’re you doing?”

“Get inside my room,” you command instead of answering, though you think it gets your point across just as well. You jab in the direction of your room with your thumb for emphasis.

“Wow, okay, uhm.” The corners of his lips curl up into a smirk, and in an overtly bashful manner, he gazes up at you through his eyelashes. “At least take me out to dinner first.”

Actually, on second thought, maybe he can freeze for all you care. You resist the urge to shut the window, close the curtains, and go back to sleep.

“Stop roleplaying like I’ve just asked for your hand in marriage or something. Just get in here.”

He visibly perks up at your words. You think that if he was a dog, his tail would be wagging right now. “Marriage?”

“Kōtarō,” you emphasise. “I’m serious, it is so cold outside.”

“Yeah, I know that. But I’ve got a bala-whatchamacallit to keep me warm, y’know.”

“It’s counterintuitive when you’re wearing flip-flops and short sleeves!”

“Alright, alright, fine,” he grumbles. Much to your relief, he swings a leg over the windowsill, making sure to push the curtain aside first so that his foot doesn’t somehow get caught in it like the last time he snuck into your room this way (he shudders in embarrassment at the memory every now and then), before hoisting himself through and tumbling onto the floor of your bedroom with a grunt. Before he even has the chance to compose himself, you drop a weighted blanket onto him without warning for no other reason than for your own short-lived entertainment.

“[Y/N], what the hell,” you hear his muffled voice exclaim as he thrashes around for a few seconds, and then his head pokes out from under the blanket with a pouty expression, “I almost suffocated!”

“Ha-ha.”

“This is no laughing matter!”

You ignore his words, opting to shut the window before plopping down onto the floor right next to him. Wordlessly, Bokuto takes the opportunity to shift his head onto your lap, allowing you to card your fingers through his hair while his eyes flutter shut.

You spare a glance at his relaxed face, squinting your eyes as if it’ll magically improve your vision in the darkness of your room. His face is fully flushed from the cold with the tips of his ears practically vermillion, so much that it almost makes you want to scold him again for not dressing for the weather. An obnoxious shadow eclipses his profile, though you can distinguish the vague shapes illuminated by the moonlight that outline his cheekbones, his nose, and his lips.

He opens his eyes; you catch sight of a twinkle in them as he reaches up and places a hand against your cheek in an affectionate manner. (You think you could sit like this forever, just you and him, if the universe allowed it.)

“Hey,” you start softly, “what was so important that you had to come here and tell me to my face?”

“Huh.”

“When you texted me. You intelligently said, and I quote, ‘Open your window, pronto. I need to tell you something, stat.’”

“Oh. Yeah,” he says more to himself as an afterthought. You blink, a second of silence passes, and then he shrugs. “All I wanted was to spend some more time with you, that’s all. I didn’t really need to tell you anything.”

Before you can interject, he adds, “Except, I love you.”

Your hands slip and fall to your knees. You’re not sure why his words have the effect that they do on you. You believe he’s told you I love you more times than you can count, but for some reason, this moment seems to carry an extra weight to it.

He pushes himself up and rotates himself so that he’s facing you. Eye-to-eye. You set your passive gaze on him, waiting— for what, you don’t know, but you can see that he wants to say something more by the slight parting of his lips, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple, the way his eyes scan your face, flitting from your eyes to your lips and then back up again.

“I love you,” he repeats. “More than anything.”

He leans forward and captures you in a feverish kiss as if it’s the last he’ll ever kiss you, the palms of his hands coming around to rest on the back of your neck. Your hands find a home at the base of his shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer.

You’ve never loved anyone like you love Kōtarō. You hear the people around you say all the time that love is a fickle thing; that it’s mercurial and fortuitous, blah, blah, blah, like a long complex path that twists and turns where you’d least expect it to, one where you can never truly see the beginning nor ending of in foresight until it’s right under your nose. That was what made it so erratic.

However, you think loving Bokuto is different from any other love you’ve experienced. Although, yes, the volatility of love still remains — you can admit that may be inevitable in any relationship no matter what — with him, you’ve never been more sure of yourself. You know this because Bokuto has always stuck by your side like glue, even before you mustered up the courage to finally confess your feelings to him years ago.

He was your best friend throughout your childhood, your crush during your high school years, your boyfriend starting in your second year of college. And now, you believe he’s a constant in your life, and you’d like to keep it that way for as long as possible.

You pull away to allow the both of you to catch your breath and then— “Marry me,” you blurt out before your brain is even aware of what’s happening. Words tumble out of your mouth clumsily, scattering out of your basket of thoughts into a disarrayed pile of stutters and awkward pauses. “I don’t have a ring right now, but tomorrow morning, or in the afternoon, it doesn’t matter, it’s whatever; we can go. Buy rings. Together.”

“Huh?”

You suddenly blanch in realisation. “That’s if you say yes. Oh fuck,” you slap your hands over your eyes before trying again, “will you marry me?”

The edges of his mouth quirk up into a toothy grin you know all too well, and then he’s leaning toward you again, pulling you in for yet another feverish kiss, a kiss so desperate that you can understand what his answer is even without him uttering it out loud.

The kiss tastes of love, of forever, of spending the rest of your future with Bokuto all at once. You can hardly wait.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu x y/n #bokuto koutaro x reader #bokuto fluff #bokuto x y/n #bokuto x reader #haikyuu fluff #i hate the second half of this it’s so corny 😭#229ZMI

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