#except I’m reader

[lead0]

based on from the outback with love by @neo-my-geo

no idea how tumblr works so no guarantee that link will work ahaha :,)

[glitch10]

He looks so goofy 💀

..I need to kiss him rn

[thevirginslvt]

most personal drawing so far awroo i was blushing and giggling the whole time

full version:

[fumifooms]

"Marchil? I guess I can see it on Chilchuck’s end, but what about Marcille’s? What makes you think she could develop feelings for him?" I’m glad you asked!

The first thing to note is that she does think highly of him

In the page on the right, literally defending his virtues and literally comparing him to Dalclan. And oh…

She does love a brooding mysterious guy who closes himself to love. But surely, Chilchuck isn’t her type at all, right? He’s not princely or knightly at all. In apperances certainly not, both looks wise and demeanor wise, but then that’s why she seeks to know him on a deeper level, to not only look shallowly.

And hmm. Chilchuck really is quite selfless isn’t he? Always looking out for others, and saving specifically her often, always making sure himself and, staying in or even running towards danger for her sometimes. Modesty is often considered heroic…

And can we talk about that drowning one… You can definitely frame the special attention as him knowing she tends to hesitate or be clumsy, and then his insistance on pulling her out of danger that she’s the healer aka the most important to keep alive, but. From the one who says that he just keeps his ass out of fights and won’t help this is a lot of risk to take, and he does die trying to pull her to safety in the dungeon rabbits chapter. And the drowning bit??? That’s when the dungeon collapses. The only reason they DON’T die of drowning here is that the water then gives way to outside. There was NO hope of pulling her to safety here and resurrections would likely not work either, he truly preferred to die with her than try to survive himself.

Sit your ass back DOWN you are in no state, self-sacrifical hero much damn

And Marcille definitely noticed this imo, after all she loves learning all she can about him, remembering things like how he hates waiting on people too. She pays attention to him and what he does and what he says. This to say that it’s notable, whatever reason for it you may think (though we know by this point at least she was already aware he was an adult though it wasn’t internalized), out of everyone it’s Chilchuck’s bed that she wants to sleep in during the Golden Kingdom stay. He’s safe and comforting to her: dependable, the defining trait in her view of him as is shown by the relationship chart in the Adventurer’s Bible.

^ Lending handkerchiefs is a romance trope btw and handkerchiefs have irl history of being used for courting. Especially in old English literature and plays like Shakespeare’s Othello, and personally I do see a lot of Shakespeare in Dalclan (nobility political drama with some romance). There’s how his cowl is a dearly beloved souvenir from his family too, there’s a lot of aesthetic tropes you can apply to him.

All this to say you can 100% romanticize Chilchuck into a princely noble guy if you try and that’s exactly what Marcille does with the wife roleplay. She doesn’t need much in the first place, she latches onto crumbs and makes aesthetic narratives out of details, give her an inch she’ll take a mile.

But what’s interesting about the shift throughout the arc of her and his relationship is that she starts out idealizing him into a little angel of a kid (shapeshifter), and she ends it idealizing him as a virtuous husband and family man instead.

And what’s doubly interesting is that in the former, she’s actively warping who he is personality and demeanor wise to fit the aesthetic, he doesn’t have that bitter pride of not asking for help and the edges have been smoothened. But what she does during the wife roleplay is something else, she acknowledges the flaws and just… Accepts them, rolls with them. She’s aware of his flaws and implements them into the narrative, but the reason why his wife left doesn’t capitalize on them even, rather Chil is chilblivious and his wife loves him very much still, she’s just testing him after having had a night of feeling out of place at his side.

And this is what separates the idealization vs romanticization, she’s not twisting him into someone else she’s just uplifting what he is and focusing on the good sides.

Marcille: "he has a shitty personality sometimes but if he was my husband I’d still cherish him" "If I were your wife I’d be overjoyed to go out with you and would get myself prettied up while you complain about me taking a long time, your friends would tell me that I’m nice and that’d make me happy, but I’d also be sad because you wouldn’t tell me that you love me enough"

He’s angry and his wife left him, he’s *flawed*, but he’s still worth hyping up, still worth having his own romance story, still has a shot of winning back his beloved. She sees him for what he is, human and real and not a carefully scripted character that fits an aesthetic, and she thinks it’s still worthy of love and admiration and fighting for

And what’s funny too is that you might expect her to cool down on him once she learns more about him but actually she only gets increasingly into his business. You tell her your age and next thing you know you promise to introduce her to your family. Give her an inch she takes a mile. And too the thing is, Senshi is equally mysterious but she doesn’t pester him like at all, asks him ONCE about his succubus and he doesn’t even answer and that’s like… It. With Chilchuck it starts off innocently enough with her wanting to know his age, hometown, the stuff she mentions having asked pre-canon. But it just keeps and keeps going and escalating. Think she’ll be satisfied now knowing you have a wife and kids, maybe she’s disillusioned now? Wrong! She wants to know their names and ages and occupations and hey how did you propose to your wife? Do you think she’ll stop after meeting them? What’s next? What will she want to know next????

She’s… Like it’s not a reach that Marcille is all over him. Like it doesn’t mean it’s romantic but she just is. She is not normal about him idk. Can you not ask him about what tongue technique he used when first kissing his wife, give the man breathing room

Marcille could literally go "if I was Chilchuck’s wife" having deeply pondered and thought out the hypothetical and people would still ask where anyone sees any romantic potential between them. Oh wait

There’s a platonic explanation for everything (almost?) in Dungeon Meshi don’t say I’m saying otherwise, but it’s definitely not like there’s nothing here to read into lol

Going off a bit more under read bc it’s my fave topic

Marcille has a whole theme with the charming prince trope with her idealization and storybook motif and Chil is kinda the "Well someone perfect like that isn’t very realistic and romance is usually more complex and that’s ok and good and flawed people can still be ✨virtuous✨" catalyst

Do you see do you see she starts canon thinking the most romantic thing is a prince charming but her arc in the end has her romanticizing an average, flawed, real and realistic family man, who’s on the poorer side and is on the verge of divorce. And that’s what he needed, too, seeing the positive of himself and the situation instead of focusing on the negative is explicitly what inspires him to hope that he might be able to reconcile with his wife, gives him the courage and self-esteem to shoot his shot.

He IS a prince figure instead that now it’s not about idealizing the grand and overt it’s about romanticizing the small things in real life!! About finding joy and beauty in things that seem normal or mundane and uplifting them to make the world feel kinder!!!!

He’s the devoted virtuous man that she wantsss not the storybook prince that’s unrealistic and could crumble like a script at any time. He’s the perfect example of a flawed realistic but virtuous & devoted & loving man. Far from a prince charming, but not fully detached from it either. Something worth fighting for despite the flawed cracks. Like literally, flawed romance being worth fighting for is literally the finale of Chilchuck and Marcille’s arc on the matter, where their separate arcs and issues intersect at the most crucial moment.

Marcille is important to Chil’s arc not only because of her optimism, but also because of her interest and knowledge in romance & matters of the heart, and that’s what he needs to both open his heart up to hope and to try to reconcile with his wife, like idk sounds gay

Their arc together is literally learning to 1) see each other for how they are and not undermining their qualities capacities etc etc while still not leaving flaws unchecked either and 2) opening up to people. Marcille LITERALLY makes Chil open his heart up to hope like idk man. What do you want from me. He’s literally the guy helping her through deconstructing novels and fantasy and rose tinted glasses and like. Deconstructing the prince charming figure into something more real but still romantically beautiful like KUI KUI STOOOOP STOP I’M ALREADY HOOKED I’M ALREADY-

 Ok fine that’s me reading into the tropes too much forgive me for being storybook brained but like. Speaking his heart out to a lone woman on a balcony, Romeo and Juliette shit, asking if she, too, doesn’t want to meet his family, madly blushing. And like she’s learned with Chilchuck it’s all in the little things, all the implications he cannot speak aloud. She does reciprocate, does blush madly back, and the first thing she does is shower him in flowers and jewelry and what in her heart is coded as romantic gifts

A lady, stashed away in a high tower by her lonesome, waiting for someone to call out to her from below… Romeo courting type shit with an offer, a heartfelt spiel, implicit confession from underneath her balcony. Offering him flowers because he succeeded in calling out to her heart…….. And they have to climb to her too…. Crazy

Doesn’t it sound like a proposal. One that’s both so storybook-like and not, contrastedly real and grounded, all about the implications rather than in your face grand gestures, "Don’t you want to meet my family?". They literally have an arc about the topic of romance and this is the climax/pinnacle of it like god?? This is @ the woman who said "Chilchuck is a shy/bashful man so I know he wouldn’t tell me he loves me, but…" btw

To quote a friend, truly the shiny secret unlockable dating sim capture target : THE DUNGEON LORD BIT WAS SO FUNNY BECAUSE HE KNEW SHE'D TAKE IT HOOK LINE AND SINKER HES THE ONE WHO GOT HER TO TURN AROUND COMPLETELY SHES LIKE. WIDE EYED FLAG RAISED???? FLAG RAISED WITH CHILCHUCK 👀👀👀‼️👀👀‼️👀

And the way that this is the culmination of their arc together… Like people are not ready for the ‘Chil calling out to dunlord Marcille on the balcony has Romeo and Juliette romance novels imagery’ take. Or the ‘their arc is about growing to see beauty even in the non-idealized, in the flawed and in the real’ take which makes it so so perfect if she were to lower her ideal from a charming elven prince to a virtuous halfling man (which she does end up romanticizing)

So there, you got to witness in real time what happens when I think about marchil for longer than 2 minutes, there are so many layers it’s a deranged rabbithole. I saw the necronomicon of subtext and it’s driving me to madness with forbidden knowledge that no one else sees

……. Like what if I told you she implicitly picked Chilchuck over a "unrealistic prince charming who’s actually disingenuous" much earlier in the story already. If she was given the choice to think through going with a guy that seems perfect and chivalrous like her succubus she’d pick Chilchuck over the other actually. If I sound insane rn tune in for my full analysis on them coming this month hopefully thank youu. Interwoven arcs of fantasy vs reality and idealization vs pessimism I love youuu

So now you know the general thesis of my planned analysis about the importance of the prince charming figure in Marcille and Chilchuck’s arc, where she romanticizes things to a sometimes worrying degree or idealize people into something easy and digestible and poetic (like Chil being a kid, and then him being a virtuous ✨✨✨husband), and how she needs to value aesthetics less and actual acts and facts more, be more grounded (like seeing people for what they are flaws and all, and accepting that people need money and not pulling through on principles of honor or unity shouldn’t get Namari shamed) and a part of that is accepting that Chilchuck is BOTH flawed and virtuous, a loving husband that still has shitty moods and fumbled his marriage so bad etc etc. So it’s like, her image of perfect prince charming that will whisk you away on an ethereal romance -> realistic flawed middle aged dad with personality issues and a failing marriage but he still is worthy of love and having his cute grand romance story and his happy ending. Ik I keep repeating the same point through this but I need it to be burned into everyone’s brains it has its grip on me I can’t do this. They are so special……

[leafybnuuy]

Y/N, whispered : Arthur~ I love you~ :>

Arthur, snoring away :

Y/N, gently slapping his cheek : Arthur? Arthur wake up!

Arthur, turning away :

Y/N, lets out soft offended gasp : >:o

Y/N, starts hitting him with pillow : ARTHUR GET YOUR BUTT UP AND SAY I LOVE YOU BACK!

Arthur, not affected : Hmm.

Y/N, tsk’d : Don’t ‘Hmm’ me! Tell me you love me back

Arthur : I love me back. Now shut up, I want sleep.

Y/N : . . .

Y/N, laying back down then face the opposite direction with a pout : I hate you.

Arthur, sighs :

Arthur, turning over to pull you into his arms tightly : Love you too, sunshine.

Y/N, slowly melting into his embrace but still pouting out of stubbornness :

[theloveinc]

Barbarian!Bakugo is a little bit… obsessed with lactation.

No, it’s not a new concept to him—he’s seen mothers feeding their children before, in fact, hardly ever put a thought to it.

But now that it’s you, now that it’s his child… it’s interesting to him. Beyond interesting, really. That someone he loves and desires so carnally can provide an almost irreplaceable service, one he is incapable of replicating despite how much he wants to provide for the both of you.

And he’d want to be present for most feedings anyway, both to bond and help ease the parenting load off your shoulders… but the whole time, he can’t take his eyes off your chest, where the little one is latched so safely and happy, suckling away as he stares in a protective haze, in awe. Blinking when baby blinks, wincing when you wince, his hands balling into fists when you sigh and the soft fat of your bosom jiggles.

He’s shy, though. Shy to admit his fascination despite how he asks to touch you one night, after the babe has been fed, swaddled and put to rest, and then rubs his fingers so gently against your nipple it starts to leak.

Bakugo looks at you under thick lashes, no blush because he’s seen you naked endless times, was there for the birth, but hesitant, almost… to do more than feel your raw areola underneath the rough pads of his fingertips. Even if, no sooner, does he put a thumb into his mouth to taste the few, silken drops of milk that escaped onto his skin.

Baby always eats first, of course, until plump and sleepy… but after that first touch, barbarian!Bakugo is no longer above licking up what’s left for him until your tits are relaxed and soft, then massaging you til there’s milk in abundance once more.

[luckycharms1701]

It would be easier, Raph thought, if you had a partner. Then he could use the guilt of longing for someone who isn’t available to suppress said longing. Instead, he pulls himself up once more and tries to lose himself in the physical exertion. Tries to focus on the strain in his arms, the sweat forming on his brow. Tries not to think about you doing yoga behind him.

He knows it is futile, but still he tries. Someday his feelings will fade, right? Someday he won’t perk up every time you enter the room. Someday he won’t wonder how you would feel in his arms. Someday he won’t dream about being your one and only.

Someday.

In the meantime he works out. He punches bad guys. Occasionally he gets drunk and pines. He tries to keep it out of his mind, the fact that he loves you so much it hurts.

It’s so hard when you’re there. When he can smell you. When you’re in the weight room and your scent mingles with his.

It’s so hard. But he will persevere. Your friendship is the most valuable thing he has.

[babyrunsforfanfic]

Tangled Necklaces

summary: the four times steve harrington untangles your necklace for you, and the one time do it for him.

steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings/tags: light angst, talk of anxiety, reader and steve meet while reader is dating someone else but they don’t cheat or anything they just kinda have a moment y’know, reader described as having hair long enough to put in a bun at one point, everyone lives ok like zero talk of the upside down or vecna, platonic fruity four, talk/use of drugs & alcohol, talk of kids but it’s like four sentences and it’s over so fast i swear

based off these two posts (one) (two) that i really had the urge to expand on.

wc: 4500ish

1. when steve harrington agreed to tag along to a party to keep his friend, eddie munson, company during some “party favor” deals… he didn’t really know why. okay that was a total lie, he had mainly agreed due to nancy and robin being out on a double date with vickie and jonathan respectively, and he didn’t want to fifth wheel.

however, watching the party with a red cup of warm beer to his lips, he wasn’t sure why people still threw these fucking things. eddie was decently in his element, happily spouting about something to some guy buying a pre-rolled spliff, the guy in which who looked like he had no want to be there. said guy who, after passing eddie a ten dollar bill, made some comment about a girl sobbing in the upstairs bathroom.

now steve, steve couldn’t deny he had things for saving people and the whole ‘kicked puppy’ schtick, so when he glanced at eddie, eddie simply waved him off toward the house. steve maneuvered through wasted teenagers, kicking a few plastic cups out from under his feed, before he treaded up the stairs slowly. upstairs was quieter, though not completely vacant, and the floor still thrummed from the music that was being played just below.

“i can’t believe that girl is in there crying over a stupid fucking necklace.” a girl had snickered in passing, and steve ignored whatever the girl’s friend had said (though he knew it was as equally malicious as the first girl).

instead, steve walked straight to the only closed door on the floor, and tapped his knuckles against the wood. he could hear the sniffles, the water running, and when you opened the door… god he didn’t think he had ever seen someone as pretty.

“m sorry.” you mumbled, mascara black tear lines under your eyes, and steve watched as your hand came up to wipe at your face. “if you need to-”

“what’s wrong?” steve instead asked, and he caught the surprise in your eyes as you rapidly blinked. “someone said something about a necklace?”

“oh.” you wince, and you lifted your clenched fist that steve had just realized had been tucked behind your back so far. “it’s nothing, really.”

“let me see.” steve folded his hands on his hips, waiting, before you let out a soft sigh. “let me see, c’mon.”

you said nothing, and instead just brought your hand around to open your palm face-up. steve sucked a breath through clenched teeth, though didn’t say anything as he glanced at the clump of metal chain you had in the center of your hand.

the necklace itself was pretty, some thin silver chain with a tiny stone on it, and you scrunched your nose as you shrugged noncommittally.

“it’s fine, i can take it to a jeweler in the next town over.” you shrugged again, and steve watched as you touched the knot with the tip of your nail from your other hand’s pointer finger. “not a big deal, y’know?”

“give it.” steve murmured, and when you didn’t move quick enough- steve plucked the necklace out of your hands for you. “wash yourself up, i got it from here.”

you blinked owlishly as steve closed the toilet lid and sat, balancing the chain on his own palm as he stared at it. you didn’t necessarily know what to say (was there anything to say?), and so instead? you just listened to him.

you used a hand towel to wash your face, paired with the bottle of cheap face wash you found tucked under the sink. you were able to scrub off most of your leftover makeup, though you were delicate around the eyes, which left the majority of your now smudged eyeliner and eyeshadow. you huffed, breathing deeply as you leaned forward, before you cupped water in your palms. the trickle of the water, the coolness of it, grounded you- and you didn’t flinch when you looked up in the mirror to see steve harrington standing just behind you. he smiled at you, slow and steady, before he jerked his head toward you.

“move your hair.” steve kept his voice soft still, and you did as he asked- before your necklace was back where it belonged. your fingers smoothed over it, as steve connected the clasp closed, fingers brushing just under the back of the collar of your sweater. “there we go.”

you both stared at each other’s reflection, unblinking and quiet, your fingers of one hand pressed to your necklace- while the other kept you steady as you stood against the counter. steve watched you, arms and hands limp at his side, though he offered you a smile still.

a sharp thwap on the door caused you to jump, and you glanced at the locked doorknob as it jiggled.

“baby? you in there?” chris, your boyfriend of six months and some change called, and while steve mouthed the word ‘baby’ to himself, you answered back with your eyes still locked on the harrington boy still stood behind you.

“i’ll meet you downstairs!”

steve let you go when you stepped away. when you whispered your apologies, he murmured his own back.

later that evening, when he makes eye contact with you when you’re pressed into the side of some jock, he can’t help but feel smug when your hand lifts to ghost against the necklace that’s nestled between your collarbones.

2. steve harrington was pretty sure his friends were out to get him. when eddie had whined and pleaded to let him throw a little friend-movie night thing. steve had reluctantly agreed, but he made his friends instead switch it into an all day thing. starting with swimming in the pool, and then. when they were tired enough, pizza and movies.

steve should’ve known something was up when eddie asked if he could invite someone over, and when steve later asked who, eddie had instead changed the subject.

but steve hadn’t pressed, and instead figured eddie had probably lucked out with a girl or guy— and was embarrassed.

he hadn’t expected to walk out of his house to see you sitting by the pool. most of your hair was scraped up in a bun on the top of your head, but your hands were currently fiddling with that fucking necklace of yours.

steve dropped off the case of beers next to a grinning nancy, who winked playfully at steve, before she gestured to you. when you turned around you beamed, giggling and waving at steve as he got closer to you.

“surprise!” you grinned wide, eyes bright, and steve chuckled as the sun caught the shine of the sunblock you’d applied to your cheeks and nose.

“hey there!” steve greeted you in an quick one arm hug when you dropped one arm, though he took note that one of your hands stayed tucked at the hair at the nape of your neck. “what are you doing here?”

“eds invited me!” you chirped, eyes bright as your dark tinted sunglasses tipped down your nose. steve glanced over his shoulder toward eddie, who was fiddling with the boombox steve had propped on a table. “said you wouldn’t mind.”

“the more the merrier.” steve grinned when you smiled wide, before he couldn’t help but gesture towards your neck with a jerk of his chin. “problem?”

“oh.” you winced, and steve felt a familiar rush of deja vu, though this time you’re spinning to show steve the back of your neck. your necklace had grabbed hold of the hairs at your nape, and it was spun almost to the root. steve whistled this time, murmuring a curse word. “i know, it’s bad huh?”

“you sleep in that thing or something?” steve settled down behind you without asking, and quickly flicked your hand out of the way. you flushed, though tipped your head forward as to make his ministrations easier.

“yeah, i uh, shower in it too.” you shrug, and steve balks as he sets about carefully pulling your hair out of the chain’s teeth.

“now, i’m no jeweler…” steve’s words trail off as he untangles one section, before moving to the next. “but pretty sure sleeping in this and showering in it is not helping you with taking care of it.”

“i just.. i don’t want to lose it, y’know?” you shrug, and steve can see over your shoulder you’re fiddling with a thin bracelet that’s around your wrist. “i don’t want to lose any of it.”

you gesture then, from head to toe, and steve looks at where you point. the tiny earrings in your ears. the necklace in between steve’s fingers. the bracelets. the rings. an anklet on your left ankle.

“i don’t have a jewelry box so i just..” you shrug again, and steve watches from over your shoulder as you start to turn a ring around your thumb.

“hm.” steve makes a noise of acknowledgment, mainly so you know he’s still listening to you, before he smooths his hands under the last bit of your previously tangled hair. “all done.”

you smile from over your shoulder at steve, an ear to ear thing, and steve pretends his heart doesn’t skip a beat when later you tell robin while you’re tipsy that you dumped your boyfriend.

you pretend yours doesn’t skip a beat, when you get back home and empty out your bag. tucked inside the towel you’d borrowed, you find a beat-to-shit jewelry case. when you eventually got the courage open it, all that’s inside is a small sticky note.

signed— from, s.

you don’t tell anyone that you tuck the sticky note away into your wallet for the safest of keeping.

it’s the first night you sleep where when you wake, your necklace isn’t tangled into your hair, and your anklet isn’t snagged on a lose thread.

steve pretends to not blush when he gets his own sticky note back, alongside a small ring, a ring that while it doesn’t fit his hand, it does fit on his key ring.

his note is signed— with a doodle of a necklace.

3. steve liked working at family video on one particular day the most out of any other day. sure, there are the days where his friends come in, keeping him and robin company at the two work while their two other friends pick their way through the stacks.

steve however, steve especially likes saturdays.

he mainly (okay fully) enjoys saturdays because those are the days where you come in. the hour varied— sometimes right when the store opened and other times you’d slink in just before your shift though.

however, when he arrived to work one day and found you sniffling while you sat on the curb in front of your car, his heart ached. you’d blinked up at him, pretty and hands shaking, as your hands cradled two parts of the necklace that you usually wore. the clasp was in one hand and the body of the necklace in the other, and steve said nothing to you as he ushered you inside the family video store.

robin wouldn’t be in for another hour, and steve didn’t care what keith would probably have to say come monday. steve instead ushered you to sit behind the store’s counter, and you sunk to the floor as steve moved around quickly.

first, he’d relocked the doors. secondly, he’d taped a piece of paper to the glass of one with just the word ‘emergency’ scrawled across it. thirdly, he’d draped his jacket around your shoulders in passing, since your body was still trembling as you cried. fourth and fifth, he snagged a coke from the vending machine in the break room, alongside a pair of needle nosed pliers.

when steve came to sit in front of you cross legged, knees touching yours, you sniffled as you held the broken necklace in your hands. you didn’t say anything at first, and instead let steve pluck the broken necklace bits from your hand, swapping them for the coke. he let you, keeping quiet as you drank, before you started to fiddle with the tab.

“my mom gave me that.” you explained, and steve nodded, set about using the pliers to reopen the clasp end that had gotten pulled off. “and whenever anything happens to it… god i just fucking freeze.”

“what made you come here?” normally, steve would think he had more tact then that, and for a moment he thinks about robin and the ‘you suck’ tally marks at scoop’s.

“i…” you blow out a huff of air, and steve gets a smell of mint and coke, smiling as he watches you become flustered. “this is gonna sound so dumb.”

“hey, you aren’t dumb.” steve’s answer is an almost bite, and you blink up at him prettily as steve’s eyes harden as he watches you. “you’re not. we all have things that stress us out, yeah? so don’t say you’re dumb just because you think you’re overreacting about something.”

you say nothing, bottom lip between your teeth.

steve continues to fiddle with the necklace, pliers helpings as he’s able to loop the rings back together. you’re smiling as you watch, steve notices, and you happily turn around after steve lets out a small ‘ta-da’.

you move your hair out of the way as if it was something you did all the time, and steve is gentle as he clasps the necklace around your neck.

“be careful with this, okay?” steve murmurs, and you hold back a shiver at the way his breath fans over the back of your neck. “if it breaks, try and not lose the rings, i can get it back together if you have all the pieces.”

you nod and promise, and for the next forty minutes, you and steve talk about life. you both say nothing when robin walks in, the girl mumbling to herself about an ‘emergency’ and you and steve both try to not squirm when she grins down at you. instead, you let steve pull you up so you’re standing on your own feet, and he finally opens the store with robin as you’re looking for your next movie to watch.

when you find it and are later checking out, you see steve’s keys, and steve looks up when the most adorable choked out puff of air falls from your lips.

“oh.” you’re grinning, shifting your weight on both of your feet, eyes bright as you rub your thumb over your ring that’s sitting on his keys.

steve just smiles at you, nervous, and you accept the movie and receipt from him. when you leave, robin slides a sticky note to him, with a sloppily drawn ‘you rule | you suck’ diagram, with a single tally mark under ‘you suck’.

steve pushes it away with a scoff, just as the door chime alerts your re-entry to the store. you don’t have the movie in your hands, and instead you’re fiddling with your necklace, your bracelets, your rings. steve and robin both keep quiet as you huff to yourself, before you send a smile to steve.

“go on a date with me.”

later, after steve agrees and gets your number, robin slides a new sticky note his way when the store is packed full.

‘you rule: I | you suck: 0’

4. steve harrington is pretty sure, almost a hundred percent fucking positive he was meant to be your boyfriend. he decides this early on in your relationship, while he’s listening to you giggle to robin about leaving hawkins and all seven of you moving into a duplex of some kind. he listens to you giggle with nancy, mainly when nancy tells you steve’s vision of having six kids.

when you squirm and say you wouldn’t mind, eddie claps steve’s shoulder and proclaims him to now officially be a goner. steve rolls his eyes and pushes eddie away as eddie teases him about being whipped. (steve will never tell eddie about how that night, you and steve laid nose-to-nose in his bed talking about name ideas).

he later hears you checking with nancy that she’s not upset with you for dating steve, and when she assures you that she’s not- you quietly say you think someone like steve had always been missing from your life. (that night, steve lays in your bed beside you and wishes that you’ll never leave him). when you wake up the next morning and notice he’s more bleary-eyed than usual, you have him call out and you spend all day in bed together, sheets tangled and skin to skin.

steve doesn’t mind that you both have morning breath the whole day. you do, but you’d never say a word.

if steve had to pick a favorite though, mornings would definitely be at the top of the list. you had a job at the police station with nancy, both of you working as secretaries to save up money so all of you could get the fuck out of dodge, before you all intended to move just.. out of hawkins.

but mornings, mornings steve got to help you. he got to slip your rings onto each finger, before he pressed a kiss to the digits. He carefully selected your bracelets, making sure they wouldn’t snag on anything you were wearing that day (he knew you had certain ones that were finicky for certain clothes).

your necklace, the one your mom had given you, was long since broken. you’d had a full meltdown when it happened, sobbing into steve’s shirt as held you to him. you’d both stayed like that for a long while, him cradling you to his chest as you held the necklace to yours. later, when your tears ran dry, he helped you slip the necklace into a small plastic bag, and tuck it carefully against your jewelry box.

(he’d offered to buy you a new one, a better one than the old one he’d snuck into your bag. you told him to shut the fuck up with silly questions, and steve hadn’t asked since)

he’s gifted you a necklace, just last week, a dainty chain with a small teardrop pendant that hung in the hollow of your throat. your eyes had teared up, breath stuttering in your throat, and you’d instantly turned around so you could push your hair off your shoulder.

and all of that, led to now— where you and him were getting ready to go pick up steve’s adopted children (how you’d fit them all in his little car you weren’t sure), but you’d manage. you were fully ready, one of his sweaters on but pouting, your chin cradled by the palm of your hand. steve shook his head fondly at you, even as he used the pair of tweezers you’d offered him to try and untangle the knot that you’d made with your necklace.

“oh.” you mumbled, and steve huffed playfully at you, eyes rolling fondly as he hushed you. “i’m sorry.”

“don’t apologize, pretty thing.” steve wet his lips with his tongue, slowly working out the chain as he shrugged his shoulders. “not too bad, ‘m a pro at this now and everything.”

“need to start paying you.” you teased, and you squirmed when steve grinned at you.

“pay me in kisses, huh?” steve grinned as you stuck your tongue out at him, before he pressed his hand to his chest with a grin. “ouch! fine, pay me by doing my dishes when we all move in together.”

steve gestured to one of the polaroids tacked to your vanity mirror, and you smiled as you glanced at it. it was a picture of all of you; you, steve, robin, vickie, nancy, jonathan, and eddie. you were all tucked close, hazy eyes but with bright smiles, and you’d loved the photo since the day you’d taken it.

“you want that, really?” your voice was soft, and steve clicked his tongue at you and gestured you closer as he held your necklace up.

you turned, allowing him to clip your necklace on, before his hands curled around your shoulders to hold you in place.

kiss. a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“i can’t wait to move in with all of you. waking up every day with you in our bed, not having to sneak around anyone.” steve hummed, and you let out a soft sigh to urge him on. “we’d all balance each other out, and we’d have our own space to hang out if they got on our nerves.”

kiss. a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“i can’t wait to start the rest of my life with you, sweet thing.” steve thumbed the clasp of your necklace, and you nodded as you shifted so you could straddle his lap and face him. “okay?”

“okay.” your answer has steve smiling, and you can’t help but smile back shyly.

steve let’s out this soft, almost fucked out laugh, before his fingers curl around the necklace chain..

and pull.

the kiss is shy, sweet, both of your noses brushing and giggling and smiling into each other’s mouths. steve pulls away first, eyes flickering to the clock you have above your bed, before he presses another kiss to your mouth.

“c’mon, sweet thing. let’s go get the kids.”

you don’t tell steve, but the entire drive there and back with the kids… you can’t help but think that it would be easy to have a life where steve’s hand was in yours.

unknown to you, steve feels the exact same way.

5. steve huffed as he leaned his head to rest against the headboard of the bed he sat on, brow furrowed and lips pulled down in a frown. he glanced around the room, and couldn’t help but let a slight smile curl at the edges of his mouth.

you’d all done exactly what you said you would, and now, two years almost to do the day of meeting you, you’d all moved out of bum-fuck nowhere that is hawkins. it wasn’t without its challenges, of course, the main one being it took a whole extra year to follow through with the group’s goals plan. (the group had unanimously voted to stay while eddie finished his third try of senior year, even with eddie’s insistence that you didn’t have to and he’d follow soon)

but, all eventually was okay- and you’d all thrown several darts on the map to decide where you’d move. you’d all decided on texas of all places, renting a large 6-room duplex to fit the entire lot of you. it was nice, slipping into the domestic life with steve’s friends and you around him— if he was honest with himself, it was everything he’d ever wanted in life.

on the day you all moved in, you’d gifted steve a necklace of his own. steve had blushed (and totally did not teared up thank you very much), and now it was his favorite thing to wear. it was simple, just a chain necklace, but you’d given it him. steve could also fully recall the nervous ramble you’d slipped into, one that rivaled one of robin’s. you’d been worried he wouldn’t like it and that it wouldn’t fit his style, but steve just cut you off with a kiss, before clipping it around his neck.

all of that culminated to now, steve having gotten off much earlier than the rest of you. he’d changed and showered to rid himself of just the funk for working for a little under eight hours, and while slipping his shirt over his head- he knocked his necklace off the bathroom counter. it’d fallen to the floor in a clatter, and steve felt his heart lurch in his throat as he scrambled to pull it off the floor.

his hands shook as he tried to untangle the knot of chain, but everything he did just seemed to make it worse. he’d been working at it for over an hour, hands trembling and curses on his tongue, and he couldn’t help but feel idiotic. he couldn’t count the amount of times you had to have his help untangling yours, and here he was not even being able to do his own.

“hey baby,” your voice caused steve to flinch and instinctively cup his hands together, and steve glanced up at you with wide-eyes as you slipped into your shared bedroom. your fingers were quickly unbuttoning the blazer you had on, and steve watched as you cocked your head as your brow quirked. “what’d you have there?”

“oh.” steve blushed, and took a few short breaths as you draped your blazer over the footboard, before you crawled up so you were sitting across from him. “uh-”

your hands were on his, uncurling and parting his hands, and steve watched as you smiled. you didn’t say anything, even as his own hands trembled as he held them flat. you used them as a surface as you carefully began working at the knots, and steve wet his lips with his tongue.

“do you wanna talk about it?” your brow pinched as you glanced up at steve, and he felt his cheeks warm as he swallowed. “you always make me talk about it, y’know?”

“it fell and i just-” steve let out a puff of air, clenching his eyes shut as he steadied his breathing. he focused on the light brush of your fingers against his, and the small hum you made to prompt him to continue. “i can always get yours untangled and then it fell and i…”

“i know.” you had a smile on your face when steve opened his eyes, and he watched as you plucked the chain up and shook it lightly. it was untangled now, dangling from the tips of your fingers, and you cocked your head with a small smile. “there we go, want me to put it on for you?”

you were teasing, steve could tell, but you didn’t even wait for him to respond before you leaned forward. your hands went behind his neck with the necklace, and he felt the slight brush of your fingers as you clasped the chain together. when you pulled back, you brushed your fingers down, smoothing the chain so it sat smoothly on his chest.

“there we go.” you smiled up at steve, who stared down at you with a slight shyness in his eyes. “all good, baby?”

“mhm, love you.”

steve watched as you curled your fingers around the chain of his necklace— and pulled.

your lips connected in a kiss, nose bumping and giggling into each other’s mouths when your teeth clashed. when you both disconnected, you had your hand placed on his chest, fingers twisting the chain of his necklace around.

“love you too, stevie.”

later, that night, while you’re flush to his chest- quiet snores falling from your mouth as you sleep, steve is thinking about rings.

specifically to go on that finger on your left hand.

[emmyrosee]

So the other day I realized that every time I laugh a little hard/loud my mom either physically cringes or tells me to chill out, that day she looked at me and said "It's not THAT funny, geez." And it made me a little more self conscious of my laugh than it should've been maybe?

Anyways, can I request Bakugou noticing everytime the reader almost laughs they quickly cover their mouth and stop themselves from actually letting their laugh out, and confronting them about it? I just need my comfort character to tell me my laugh isn't actually as terrible as I think it is :((

I hope you have a great day, thank you!!

First of all. FirsT OF ALL-

Your laugh is sexy and wonderful and tell whoever says otherwise to kick rocks. Laughter is one of the best ways to release endorphins and raise moods. You laugh at whatever the sam-hell you want because baby, laughter is free and you deserve to do it in comfort.

Now… on to the piece!!

-

It wasn’t just funny. It was downright hilarious.

The tiktok playing on repeat was so goofy, so ridiculous it made absolute cackles pour from your lips. For a moment, you let them fly, and you don’t think twice about it.

That was, until Katsuki came in, drying his hands on the paper towel. “What’re you laughing at?”

Arguably, the worst way he could’ve phrased that.

“Just… Just a video,” you manage, clearing your throat of giggles. “Didn’t mean to take you from your dishes.”

“You didn’t, I wanted to know what was so funny.”

You swallow thickly. He cocks a brow.

“It was nothing,” you brush. He rolls his eyes but he doesn’t press; he knows better than to press your boundaries in such a way.

Drying his hands, he does come over to sit with you on the couch, scrolling on his own phone. It’s quiet, no need to make conversations after being together for so long, but your heart sinks to your stomach when, once again, a video crosses your feed. This time, however, you let no laughter out, and instead smother it with your hands.

Katsuki says nothing, but judging by the way he peered at you from the corner of his currant gaze, you know saw.

More silence.

Another hilarious video, this time from Mina, and it has you whining to try and hide your laughter from pouring out uncontrollably.

This time, however, it makes him speak up.

“You keep doing that,” he says, not even bothering to look up from his phone. Chills shoot up your spine, and your jolt does cause katsuki to peek at you from his scrolling again. “What’s your problem?”

“Nothing,” you defend. “I’m fine.”

“And I don’t believe you.”

“Would you just drop it!”

A smirk quirks on his cheek, “so somethin’ is bothering you.”

A pout etched on your face, almost disappointed he realized something was wrong, and he lets out a soft sigh and turns towards you, his phone being pocketed. “You don’t have to tell me. But I don’t like you lying that it’s nothing. We don’t hide from each other, you know that.”

“Katsuki,” you whimper, adverting your eyes. Silence surrounds you both, and bless katsuki for his patience, but you just want it to end and be left alone. He moves one of his hands to rest on yours, the familiar weight making you feel more at ease.

“Do… do you hate my laugh? Is that why you asked what I was watching? It made me laugh too loud?”

“Huh?” He asks incredulously. Bleach blonde brows furrow in frustration, “of course I don’t hate it, the fuck? I was asking because I wanted to know what was funny. Don’t assume shit, you know better.”

“But you… you didn’t-“

“Literally only wanted to know what was funny. Don’t you know I appreciate a good laugh now and then?”

That, has you about to laugh, but your quick to hide it under a cough and muffled giggles.

He groans, “you’re doing it again. Just laugh, I don’t know what your problem is-“

“My problem is my laugh!” You whine, tears stinging at your eyes. “Don’t you think I want to laugh and have fun and not worry about what people think about the damn noises? How long I laugh? How when I think of a joke, I laugh more? Huh?”

This time, his brows raise, and his eyes widen as he realizes the can of complexity he’s just unleashed. But he doesn’t snap back, he never does; he quickly zones himself back with the new lenses you’ve given him into your mindset.

“Your laugh is fine,” he mumbles, tossing an arm around your shoulder. “I never said you shouldn’t be able to do those things, nor would I. Where’s this coming from anyways?”

You don’t answer him, and he doesn’t press further- he already knows the answer, but you curl into his side to hide away from your insecurities regardless.

“But… but it’s so loud-“

“Yeah, and it’s fine that it is.” His thumb gently strokes over the skin of your arm, “that’s how we know it’s real. Your laugh isn’t a problem or something. It doesn’t bother any of us, and you know dunce-face eats it up when you encourage him with your cackles. It’s cute. I like your laugh. Fuck anyone who says otherwise. Don’t hide that shit, or feel like you even have to.”

“You like it?”

“I do. Makes me all soft to know you find me and my obnoxious ass friends funny.”

Your cheeks flush and you nuzzle into his side, letting his gentle touch bring you back down.

“So…” you begin, and he hums for you to continue. “You really think it’s cute?”

He gives you a small glare and you flash him a smile, “don’t make me regret it.”

“You think I’m cute?”

“You are, in fact, making me regret it.”

“I mean… I am pretty cute-“

“Regretting it,” he snaps before tickling up your sides to make you squeal and laugh once again; but rather your hands cover your mouth, they circle his wrists to move his hands away. “Shut the hell up before I make you regret it.”

“So mean!” You whine, writhing against him. It doesn’t last long, and he moves his hands to instead wrap around you and pull you into his chest, his nose nuzzling the back of your neck. You purr and use your strange position to curl into him, letting his big arms protect you both from whatever insecurities dare try to tread.

“I’m glad you think it’s cute,” you confess, and he chuckles.

“Of course I think it’s cute. Wouldn’t go out of my way to hear it if I didn’t.”

“I think you’re cute, Katsuki.”

He plants a gentle kiss to the tender muscles at the nape of your neck, “I think we’re cute together.”

You crane your neck to look at him, his contented face burrowed into the warmth of your muscles, eyes closed as he all but soaks you in.

“Yeah?” You mewl.

“Fuck yeah.”

[frescoisnotinthemilitary]

Not sure if this is how I send you asks but could you do a König x male baker reader? Like a fluff story? Like at some point Konig realizes he's in love with the sweet baker? If not that's fine too 🫶🏾🫶🏾 please?

Sweet Tooth

König x Male!Baker!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, and König being clueless about his feelings (Tags apply differently. Jokes about suicide, meant to be read with a light heart)

Pronouns for reader: you, he/him, reader is implied male

A/N: I really appreciate this opportunity to write for a character I haven't really written for or considered writing for in the past. I’ve also never written for a male reader before, so thanks so much for this ask! I’m also a firm believer that König drinks an unhealthy amount of hot chocolate. We’re talking 4+ cups on a normal day. I was given the idea and it kind of spiraled. He’s also shy and very pookie-coded here, I think.  Let me know if any of the German is wrong, I relied heavily on Google Translate for this. Also if I missed anything. I’ve read this so many times that the words are melting together and I just needed to post it. Sorry this took so long, I’ve been sick and it’s kicked my ass.

It was a bit of a shock, the first time he walked into the bakery. At almost seven feet tall, how could he not be a shock? 

Ding. The soft tinkle of the bell above the door alerts you to the presence of the morning’s first customer. You glance up, and the smile drops from your face, then immediately reappears. 

“Good morning! Take your time with the menu, and let me know when you’re ready to order.” Your voice cuts through the silence. “I’m going to go take some muffins from the oven, but I'll be back soon. Let me know when you're ready, alright?”

“Ja.” A man’s deep rumble sounded from under his dark veil. You notice his head tip back up toward the chalkboard menu as you slip through the swinging doors to the kitchen. 

When you return, holding a tray of still-warm muffins, he looks to you. “Bitte, ah, please, may I order?”

“Mhm,” you hum in response, your chest buzzing with the vibrato. “What would you like?” The air is filled for a moment with the quiet sound of each muffin tapping onto the glass display plate. 

“May I have a- a blueberry scone, and a medium, ah, large, hot chocolate, please?” He asks. You notice him picking at his gloves and shrinking down as if trying to appear smaller than he is. 

Maybe he’s shy. The thought makes you smile inwardly. “Yup. I’ll get those for you. Sorry for the wait, it’s just me this morning.” 

“Die Stille [hush], it is- do not worry. It is no problem.” 

Oh my god, he really is shy. 

“For here, or to go?” 

“To go. Danke.”

Several minutes later, you raise a hand in a slight wave as he leaves, paper bag and steaming cup clutched in one gargantuan mitt. “Have a good day.”

“Ja. You as well,” he replies. 

It becomes routine, after a while. At first, it was about once a week. Then, it was a few times. Now, Monday through Saturday, he’s the first customer in the bakery, often causing the bell to ring as soon as you flip the sign. 

It’s a typical Tuesday morning, about a month after he started coming in. You’ve already opened the door, he’s received his usual order, and you’re curious. “What’s your name?” You ask, the urge to inquire obscuring any boundaries you might cross. 

He considers lying for a moment, but you’ve been kinder than most. Always assisting him whenever you could, treating him like a human, not like an apathetic war machine. 

“König,” he answers. 

“König,” you repeat. “Isn’t that German for ‘king’? Are you German?” You can’t keep the questions in. They fall from your lips before you recognize that what you’ve asked is invasive. He’s a customer. He’s here to get cocoa and a scone, not be bombarded by questions he might not even want to answer. 

But the man seems unfazed. “Ja, it is German. However, I am from Austria, not Germany.” 

Thank god for those Duolingo lessons, you think. 

“Oh. I’m sorry for all the questions so suddenly, but what do you do for work? Do you work around here?” The embarrassment you felt at the barrage of questions leaving your lips ebbs, and you feel more comfortable asking them now. 

“Ah, well,” he hesitated. “I am a Marine. I am a colonel. I work on the KorTac base, just outside of the city.” He checked his watch, then looked back up to you. “I’m sorry. I have to go, now. It was good speaking with you. Ah, goodbye.” 

It seems rushed, but you think little of it. He’s just shy. 

“Oh, yeah. Of course. See you tomorrow.” 

“Ja, I will be here.”

Tomorrow comes and goes. As does the next day. And the next, and so on. You don’t ask any more questions, as he seemed to leave hastily the last time. 

But he wishes you would. Why did I not ask one of him? I want to know more about the man, the little voice in the back of his head tells him. 

Weeks pass. He returns again. And you’re feeling brave.  

“König?” Your voice accompanies the sound of the paper bag as he grabs the top. “Would you, uh…” You trail off. 

“Would I what, Schätzchen [sweetie]?” 

“Would…” You had a hard time getting the words out. Your palms begin to sweat against the counter, and everything seems to be amplified tenfold. “Would you like to get dinner sometime?” You blurt. 

König is silent for a moment. Then, “Dinner?”

“Uh- yeah. With me.” You wish you could see under the veil, as he doesn’t answer. It seems like hours before König’s head tilts back upward to you. 

A small smile grows on his face, not that you can see it. He finally speaks, and his voice is soft. “Ja. I would like that, very much. Thank you.”

He doesn’t understand why his neck feels hot. His ears. His cheeks. His face is on fire and he doesn’t know why. 

You breathe a sigh of relief. He didn’t reject me. He wants to go to dinner. 

Shit. He wants to go to dinner.

“Cool, cool. What, uh, what kind of food do you like?” You ask casually, as if talking about the weather. As if you hadn’t just asked Colonel Colossus to grab a whole ass meal with you. 

He thinks for a moment before responding. “I quite enjoy anything. I am in favor of the foods of my Austrian background, though I am sure you are much more accustomed to those of your home. The choice is yours, mein Täubchen [my dove].” 

“Uh, well, it’s not Austrian, but there’s a little German restaurant a few blocks from here.”

Why did he ask me to choose? “If that’s okay.” 

König smiles, though his glowing cheeks remain obscured by the veil. “That sounds perfect, Mein Schatz [my dear].”

Your face lights up. “Great. When are you free?”

[stevebabey]

i love u x reader fics and i will never abandon u but dear god [shivers] the steve harrington x reader tag is shit on a level of epic proportions like sweet jesus

[thotofthecentury]

fuckboy!angela x reader college au

could be read as a part 2 to my last one, but isn’t required to read this

TR: dubious consent, briefly

“You haven’t said anything since you last spoke?” Mariah whispers from across the library table.

“No!” you whisper-shout back. “I’ve done everything I can to avoid her! I am out of the room when she doesn’t have class, I go to bed before she gets back-“

“God, just ask her out already,” Chanse groans into his hands at normal volume.

You and Mariah both shush him, looking around, perhaps a bit paranoid.

“Not yet!” Mariah replies at the same time you say, “Are you crazy?”

The last time you spoke to your roommate, Angela, was Tuesday. Today is Friday. Your suddenly super hot, sexy, and very flirtatious roommate.

“You can’t avoid her forever,” Chanse whispers like you didn’t know that. Like that hasn’t been on your mind since she found out you were a virgin. To face her… now that she knows…

The words ‘you can’t avoid her forever’ loom over you like a cloud. Or more like a loaded gun. It’s nighttime and you suspect Angela’s going to stay over at a girl’s dorm, being Friday night and all, but you never know.

You’ve never felt more vulnerable or practically humiliated than when she called you out for being a virgin. When she called you out for not-so-secretly masturbating while she hooked up with a girl in the next bed! But it was just a one time thing. It’s over. There’s nothing more you can do but to coexist with her.

An hour passes and you’re ready for bed. It’s 2:30 in the morning. Just because you’re a bit of a prude doesn’t mean you don’t have fun on Friday nights. If ‘have fun’ means watch reality tv for hours on end instead of doing homework. Angela’s called you lame for it, but at least you’re having fun.

You turn out the lights and lay down, getting all comfy to go to bed, knowing you won’t have to get up uber early to leave the room before Angela wakes. No way she’s waking up from whatever hangover she’s about to suffer from anytime before lunch.

You wake with a start to a soft thud on the outside of your door. Probably someone drunk stumbling to their room.

“Shit,” you hear from the hallway along with a keycard hitting the tile floor. It’s Angela’s voice.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. You look over to the clock. 3:43.

You are not letting this ruin your very peaceful slumber. You roll over and pretend you didn’t hear a thing. Surprisingly, falling back to sleep wasn’t a challenge. Must have taken her a while to figure out how to unlock the door completely wasted.

You feel your hand grab your own boob under your shirt. Your hips rock slowly into… something. The pressure between your legs grows. Your eyes open to a pitch black room. 4:17, the glowing red digital clock reads. Both of your hands are suddenly back to your sides. The wetness between your thighs is obvious. You’ve had sex dreams before, but this was different. There was no dream part. Out of nowhere, your body reacted. To something? You guess you bunched up part of your blanket in your sleep and shoved it between your legs.

There’s warmth still on your boob and when you go to touch it, you touch a hand. Your heartbeat quickens. Then you feel a body beside you, touching you, leaning against you to not fall off the twin size bed. You know who it is.

You gasp and raise yourself onto your elbows.

“What the fuck?” you whisper. You hate yourself for whispering. This is not a time to whisper.

She shushes you softly, moving her hand from your boob to your face. One finger presses over your lips.

“Don’t,” she whispers. “It’s ok.”

“What are you doing?” you say quietly, obeying her.

“I wanted to help,” she whispers into your ear before kissing your neck. Her hand goes between your legs, toying with the hem of your underwear. You never bunched together your blanket. Her hand’s been there before. How much before?

“I-I don’t-“ you start but cut yourself off with an unintentional moan as she pulls a finger up over your clothed clit.

“Wait, stop,” you try.

“I don’t think you really want me to,” she hums into your neck.

“Y-Yes I do-“ you moan again.

“Fuck, stop it,” you try to sit up, pushing her hand away with one of yours. You’re out of breath and so insanely turned on.

She places her hand on your inner thigh.

“Y/n, let me help you. I’ve seen the way you look at me,” she swipes her tongue from the base of your neck to your ear. “I’m doing this for you. It will be quick, I bet you won’t last long.” Her breath is directly on your ear, her hot, hot breath. There’s a faint smell of alcohol coming from her.

“Angela, I don’t-“ you want to say you don’t want her to but yes you do. She’s ever so slightly pulling your thigh, spreading your legs, and you clench around nothing.

“Say the word ‘no’ and I’ll go to bed,” her hand squeezes your inner thigh.

“I-“ you moan again.

“Mmm, what was that?” she teases, licking your neck again.

“God, just fucking do it,” you say. It felt like another person said it. But you know it was you because her fingers push your underwear to the side and she plunges a finger deep inside you.

You swallow, hard.

She wiggles the tip of her finger against your g-spot and you grasp her wrist. You push her in deeper.

“Angela, more,” your whispers are strained.

“How can I deny you?” she whispers back. She adds another finger and roughly pushes into you to her knuckles. She leaves her fingers there for a moment. Her fingers are larger than yours, that’s for sure. Your knees threaten to close.

All while leaving her fingers inside you, she positions herself between your thighs with her other elbow next to your head to keep herself up right.

“Does that feel good?” she asks, the streetlight reflects off her big brown eyes that now look down at you.

“M-mhmm,” you whimper.

“You’re going so good, honey,” she says as she starts to finally thrust her fingers in and out. Her wrist lines up with her pelvis so she begins using her hips as well, to drive her fingers into you. The palm of her hand digs into your clit with every thrust.

The bed begins to make the smallest thump against the wall behind it.

You’ve never felt your g-spot and clit be used at the same time and it’s making you crazy. The leans all her body weight into you creating the best pressure imaginable. Her mouth surely leaving marks along your neck.

“I think I’m-“ you try but it comes out as a moan.

“It’s ok,” Angela whispers without relenting her pace. “You can come, y/n.”

“Fuck, Angela,” your legs squeeze her waist and your hands scratch her back as you come. You grind into her, reveling in your aftershocks. Once you relax, she pulls out of you and brings her fingers to your lips. You take them into your mouth, licking between her fingers. She doesn’t break eye contact. You’ve tasted yourself before but never on someone else and you’ve obviously never had Angela’s fingers in your mouth before which is really what you’re loving about this.

Angela leans down to connect your lips, tongue darting between them. Your tongues meet and it’s like heaven. She pulls away and you’re certain you saw a string of spit in the faint streetlight.

“You kissed me,” you say softly.

She raises an eyebrow at you before flopping onto her back beside you. “Yeah, I also just fucked you, keep up,” she laughs.

You turn over to look at her silhouette. “Yes, but you didn’t while you were…”

“Fucking you,” she provides nonchalantly.

“Yeah,” you sigh and you are so glad there’s no light on. Your cheeks are undoubtedly bright red.

“Be grateful because I usually don’t kiss a girl until the third hookup,” she adds. Ah, there’s your roommate Angela.

You close your eyes, meditating for a moment instead of lecturing her on treating women with respect.

“Hey, so that was really hot and I’m really turned on now,” Angela says. “I don’t expect you to do the same for me, but would you mind if I took care of it? I can go to my bed-“

“Don’t go,” you cut her off.

She smiles a stupid half smile. “You can, y-you should,” you stutter. “I want you to do that… here… I want to watch.”

[cams-cozy-corner]

Mommy coded. If u even care

[cxtori]

wanting to write a wolverine/logan x reader enemies to lovers slow burn sooo badly. thoughts? 👀

[momsopposed2theoccult]

I’m such a massive simp for Percy Weasley and I’m not even ashamed of it. I wanna give him kith <3

[theselesbiansloveeachother]

here me out: sweet but dom shoko x reader