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unlikelycupcaketrash · 3 days ago

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You want more?

I gotchu

(It’s all Danny and Lancer with the Waynes crack) (probably)

New rare pare just dropped??? Why do I kinda love Bruce/lancer

what is Mr lancers first name?? *one google search later* we don’t know but it starts with an L :/

I dub thee: Lucas

Lucas “Luke” Lancer (hell yeah, alliteration!)

So anyway Tim and Danny meet and are suspicious of each others odd behavior but ultimately end up with a more or less “I don’t ask questions about where you sneak off to and your spontaneously unimportant injuries and you don’t ask about me and mine yeah? Alr.” Type relationship, and actually hang out a lot.

The first few times Tim asked Danny about that Danny would always say that “you haven’t unlocked enough of my backstory” and move on. Tim doesn’t like this but he gave up on trying because he cant find anything weird about his paper trail and Danny’s a chill guy so it’s probably fine, I mean it not like he’s a vigilante right?

In the show his top speed was 112 mph so ima say he keeps improving his speed as he goes back n forth from Gotham to amity because let’s be so fr Valarie is handling most of the ghosts but there are some nights where it gets too much and she hast to call in backup, and by some nights I mean twice a month at least. What can I say? Amity park ghosts are mean and don’t care about your education

After Jason gets back whatever plot shenanigans you want make it so that lancer is checking up on Danny at the same time Jason has to pick up Tim for whatever and Jason recognizes Lucas but he doesn’t recognize jay yet (he will later), see where I’m going with this? Ok so they get talking (the literature nerds) and Jason decides to double down on shipping Luke with Bruce. Bruce could seriously use the normal and positive influence and hey he’s good with kids so why not? It’ll be funny!

How could he do this the most efficiently, effectively and flamboyantly?? A gala probably, but first Bruce and lancer need to be to the level of friends where they would interact/maybe even seek each other out at a high society event, so *sigh* I guess he’s going to have to invite Danny and lancer to a family dinner or something, but he’s not close enough to either of them do do that without it being weird! His whole plan is falling apart!

Oh Timmy!!!!!~~ has Jason ever mentioned that your his favorite brother?? and he’ll give you his desert at the monthly family dinners for three months if you do this one little thing for him?

So Danny ends up being invited to a Wayne dinner and oh Mr. Lancer you come in too, you came all this way, we insist! (He realizes Jason is Jason Wayne at the dinner btw)

Tim is floundering around Danny because this is the first time Danny looks well rested and with actually styled but also messy hair and what the fuck that’s his roommate! He has no right to look this cute! Tim can see his freckles instead of the ever-present eye-bags and-! wait what why is his heart beating so fast, he’s been trained by the bat! A cute boy should not be able to affect him as much as it is. He need to do some more heart rate exercises because why is Danny so cute all of a sudden and maybe it’s one of his meta powers? No they’re roommates, they live together, he would’ve noticed, and now he’s spiraling but he can’t really stop and-

Bruce is similarly struggling but he can deal with it by being such a clueless bimbo and tired dad because why are so many of his kids here? It’s not even the monthly dinner yet? Is it because of Danny and Lucas? It probably is, he should invite them over more, jay is here and talking passionately about whatever lit thing with Lucas and he will totally invite Luke over more, I mean see how much he cares about his kids? Gah he’s just so perfect- wait what?

DCxDP: The Roomate

Despite all their madness, it's no secret in Amity Park that the Fentons are certified geniuses. When Maddie and Jack Fenton first move to town, they are all anyone can talk about.

Maddie was well known among women because, at the time, women in STEM were rare, and it was even rarer for them to actually gain recognition for their efforts. Her work, confusing to most of the public, meant a lot to the women in Amity Park.

Before she arrived, she had been featured in three separate magazines: one for science, another for sponsoring a scholarship for STEM women, and the last for her inventions of self-defense accessories to arm young women. Yes, most didn't know about her until they learned that she was moving into their small town, but that was beside the point.

Her husband was a little less known, but it came as no surprise that he was also said to be rumored as a well-educated man. He had two PhDs. Two.

At the time, almost everyone in Amity Park had a high school diploma, the highest degree level of the masses. Sure, some well-off families could send their children four towns away to the closest college, but it was rare.

It was also a privilege—a means to show off at the annual street market, where the proud mothers would smugly describe their children's dorm rooms or majors to the tightly smiling neighbors.

In the early eighties, having a higher education made people appear more respected, and here was Jack Fenton, a man who had two Ph.D.s and was rumored to be working on his third. The man who had bought out the old Steward faculty building by the main street was having a crew removed into a home/laboratory.

Everyone buzzed for weeks about the new neighbors, and sharing any new details about them was exciting. It may be strange to people outside their little town, but with a population size of at least five thousand (at least in the eighties when the Fentons arrived. and the population grew well into the thousands when Axion Labs was built), news of changes was rare and few in between.

Amity Park didn't have big-shot names on their roads, much less stay to live. Heck, they only recently started getting a carnival to go by, and that was at least seventeen years since the Fentons moved in.

So, it was no surprise that Fenton's daughter showed just as large a brain as she did. Yes, the Fentons were less academic types than they were expecting, showing a rather odd obsession with the paranormal, but no one could deny their ability to build anything.

The Fenton boy was the only one who didn't live up to the family name. Danny was on the right path until Freshman year, when his grade rapidly dropped to the bottom of his class, he vanished for hours on end and went into destructive fits randomly.

He has been found among enough rooms ripped apart to know that Fenton was out of control. School staff spoke to Mr. and Mrs. Fenton often, and the two parents genuinely seemed to take their conversations to heart, attempting to instill better behavior within Danny.

Nothing seems to work. No grounding, detentions, community work, or group meetings seem to get through the boy's head. The Fentons were at their wit's end with their youngest. Mrs. Fenton, fretting that her son had never behaved like this.

Then, ghost attacks started appearing around the same time to make things worse. While the town laughed at them at first, everyone quickly realized the Fentons were one of the few who could provide defense against the ghosts. Throughout more and more attacks, the people started to defer to the Fentons in times of crisis.

The people who once booed them now rallied around them, and it took no time for everyone to acknowledge that the Fentons were now among the highest in the town's social ladder.

That came with some benefits.

"Are you sure this would help Danny?" Maddie asks, staring at the pamphlet in obvious doubt.

"Mrs. Fenton, I assure you that I would not have recommended Daniel for the program if I didn't think it would help him," Mr. Lancer responds with great patience. "It is apparent that he is dealing with something that needs more support than the school staff can provide."

"But to send him away?" Jack cuts in, looking close to tears.

"Don't think of it as sending him away. Think of it as putting him in an environment that can help him. Frankly, Daniel is struggling here. He's been having more and more destructive fits, his teachers have noticed he's paying less and less attention in class, and a few students have even approached me saying he seems to be hiding weapons in his bag."

"Weapons?" Maddie gasps. "Our Danny?"

"Rest assured, we have done searches and investigations as these accusations are not accepted without reason. Daniel does not seem to have any on him, but I worry he may be facing severe bullying if children were willing to lie about something so serious." Mr. Lacner sooth swiftly. He sighed, leaning back in his seat as neither adult looked particularly happy by his words. "The staff and I attempt to step in when we can, but bullies always find ways to slip past us. For example, bothering him off campus. I just think Daniel will be better away from those causing him harm, especially if he really is dealing with a previously unknown mental illness."

He pulls out more pamphlets, one with testimonies from previous program participants. When Lancer left Amity Park for college, he never planned to return. He got his teaching degree alongside his associates in English and History.

Lancer had taught at a different school, a more well-known and better-funded school, but he missed his small town. He missed the neighborly people, the less noise, and Amity's clean, crisp air. He found himself quitting his Gotham Academy job in Grades six to eight, moved back home, and attempted to drag Casper High out of its failing pit.

He still struggled as the school couldn't find enough teachers. He taught four different subjects—math, History, English, and Science—whenever he could, and there was almost no funding.

But Casper High was slowly getting better every year due to the connections Lancer had made in his seven-year tenure as a Gotham Acadamy Professor. One of these connections was the father of his favorite English student.

Bruce Wayne.

Mr. Wayne attended every single one of Jason's plays, and as the Drama Club sponsor, Mr. Lancer would chat with him. Most people knew Wayne was an airhead, but Wayne was delightful to be around. Like Mr. Lancer, he cared deeply about education and always took the teacher's suggestions to bring up at PTA meetings.

When Lancer chose to move back to Amity, Jason was devastated and insisted he had Bruce's number. It was heavily implied that the board wanted Lancer gone due to his "questionable" teaching plan—he tried to teach empathy a little too much, according to some parents—and the boy thought his sudden departure was due to this.

Mr. Wayne assured him if he had been let go or pressured into leaving, he would provide Lancer with an entire team of lawyers. Touching as it was, Lancer assured them he was leaving on his own accord.

He contacted Mr. Wayne, asking for advice on how to apply for school grants or any other tips the billionaire could give him. The man was the most involved Father Lancer had ever met, including fundraising and supporting art programs.

Casper High had been this close to removing Band, Drama, Cheerleading, soccer, and Baseball because it needed more money to afford them. Not to mention all the other clubs that had vanished when Lancer was a Casper student. Bruce was happy to help him save the programs for the students.

It was the main reason Lancer was made vice principal so quickly. He was basically keeping Casper High running.

Two years later, he heard the news that Jason had been murdered. It shattered Lancer's heart. He went to the funeral and watched Mr.Wayne slowly fall apart. Even as he returned home, he tried to reach out to the man whenever he could.

It may have felt different to the other man, but Lancer always thought they were friends. Eventually, Mr. Wayne bounced back—never forgot—from Jason's death, and slowly, the gap between them was reconnected.

The reason for Mr. Wayne's mental recovery was the one that suggested this program. He had personally invited Mr. Lancer to send Daniel.

"Tim Drake is a brilliant boy," Mr. Lancer continued, watching the two couples struggle to decide. "His team is filled with trained psychologists, he has the facilities to deal with Meta children, and Daniel won't be uncomfortable rooming with him as a teenager himself."

Maddie looks at Jack, but while she sees the hurt in his eyes, she also sees his resolve. "Alright, we'll send Danny to the Meta Mentoring Program. It's what's best."

"I'll let Mr. Drake know he'll have a roommate."

#if dead tired happens and Bruce/lancer happens then Mr lancer is going to be Danny’s father in law and Danny doesn’t like this #i don’t know where i was going with this #but god damn was i going #dead tired #Bruce x Lancer #i don’t know their ship name #bruce wayne #danny fenton #tim drake #mr lancer #prev tags #danny phantom x detective comics #dcxdp crossover #dcxdp #dpxdc crossover #dpxdc #dcxdpdabbles #the roomate #mr.lancer is one of those teachers that care and single handle keeing the school open #part 1 #I see that part 1 tag and I have decided to ignore it in favor of giving the people shenanigans #sorry op #i had to #Jason sees the moment Bruce realizes his crush is back #he is rejoicing inside but it ends up with him just looking smug #to be fair he is also being smug about it #everyone else catches on quick about what’s up with Bruce and Tim and their crushes #either immediately is on board ride or fucking die #or is hesitant and is reluctantly okay with it they guess but only because b is happy #I reached the tag limit lmaooooo

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theereina · 2 days ago

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Big Mama Pt. 6

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +2.3K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, heavily dialogue-centered, no smut, use of pet names (Daddy, Mama, lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, b*tch, etc.), fluff, dirty talk, choking, Dom/Sub(brat)~relationship established

A/N: I don't know how many parts there will be. However, I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Big Mama Pt. 1 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 2 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 3 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 4 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 5 => 🦋

*Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥

“So, where yo’ man at? He still ain't back yet?” asked Monica. We had been on the phone chatting all morning. “I guess on the lake. He's still probably fishing,” I said, leaning against the counter. “Oh, so he out fishing, and you at home being all domestic and shit. Okay, housewife!” Monica laughed. “Shut the hell up,” I laughed.

I had been cooking all morning since Terry left. I packed his lunch in a cooler before making breakfast earlier that morning. “So, we cooking three meals a day now?” she said being messy. “Listen, you messy whore. Stop picking on me,” I said, smacking my lips. I turned back to the stove and stirred the pot of collard greens. “You right! I'll leave you alone,” Monnie said.

I walked to the fridge and pulled out the variety of shredded cheeses I bought. I poured all of them into a glass bowl I placed on the counter. Since it was too soon to cook it, I only wanted to start preparing the macaroni and cheese for now.

“We both know you're lyin’!” I said into the phone. “Girl, it's just crazy seein’ you like this. It's so fuckin' cute. You all soft and shit,” she said giggling. “Whatever!” I yelled back while rolling my eyes. “You and I both know you ain't never did no shit like this. I'm used to Big Mama who be pressin’ niggas. Now, yo’ ass in the house cookin’ for one,” she hollered. I scoffed at her remark. Was I really that down bad?

I opened the oven and checked on the cornbread. The sweet smell of honey wafted through the air. I lightly pressed the top of the bread checking the firmness. I put on an oven mitt and pulled it from the oven. I sat it on a towel on the counter. “Girl, I wish you could see this cornbread. It's beautiful,” I said smiling. “Only you would call cornbread beautiful. Keep teasing me, and imma pull up, bitch. I'll bring my own Tupperware, so don't worry!” she cackled. “So, you just gone show up to eat, then leave?” I asked. “Well, what else am I supposed to do? Y'all too busy playin’ house and shit!” Monnie stated.

“You know what? Fuck you! I'm getting off the phone,” I snorted. “That's right! You betta have Mister’s plate on that table by the time he make it home. Oh, and bring me back a niece or nephew while you at it,” she giggled. “Bye, and it's still fuck you!” I said, hanging up the phone.

At this point, I was floating through the kitchen— mixing Mac and cheese, stirring collard greens, frying and flipping chicken, and whipping up a banana pudding. It felt so good to be in my happy place.

4 hours later ~ around 7 p.m.

Rinsing off the day, Terry was upstairs taking a shower, and I was finishing the final touches for dinner. The mac and cheese was browned to perfection. The collard greens were flavorful and savory. The fried chicken was chef’s kiss. The cornbread smelled like heaven. The banana pudding was just waiting in the fridge. I had outdone myself. Maybe Monnie was right. Was I in my housewife era? Had Terry put me in soft girl mode? Ah, shit!

As I reached to retrieve the plates from the cabinet, I felt something press against my back. “I got it, mama. Let me,” Terry said, reaching over me. “Thank you,” I said, kissing his cheek. He put the plates down on the counter in front of me. “Shit, I didn't realize you had done all this. You really weren't playin’, huh?” Terry asked, wrapping his arms around my waist. He leaned over and started planting small kisses on my neck.

“If you wanna eat, you gotta leave me alone. The plates haven't even hit the table,” I giggled while shrugging my shoulder to get him to stop. “It’s a shame that a man can't have dessert before dinner,” he said, turning me around to face him. He pressed his body against mine and trapped me against the counter. “Terry, you promised to behave. Come on!” I said, pushing my hip towards him. “No, I promised to try. I did. I swear, but you look so damn good,” he said, placing his arms on the counter beside me. I whined and scrunched my face. Did I want to fuck Terry’s brains out? Yes! However, I had also spent all day cooking his favorite meal and dessert.

I folded my arms across my chest. “Ah, mama! Okay, I’m sorry. You’re right. I asked you to cook for me, and you did just that. Thank you, love,” he said pulling me into him. His lips crashed into mine. He held my face in his hands and tilted my head to look him in the eyes. “Forgive me?” he asked flashing that devious smile. This sneaky bastard knew how to get me. “Yes, now move!” I said nudging him away from me.

Terry reached for the plate in front of me. “I said move. Didn't I? That means sit down, Terry!” I said rolling my eyes and laughing. I turned towards the counter, blocking him. “My bad. I don’t know what it is, but you knowin’ yo’ way around a kitchen like this makes me wanna…,” he said backing away from me. “Makes you wanna what?” I questioned as I turned around to look at him. Terry’s eyes lingered on my face and slowly dropped to my abdomen. A smile so sinister spread over his face. “I know damn well you aren’t suggestin’ that. A baby, Terry?” I scoffed while smiling. “I mean… You love me, right?” he asked while sitting at the table.

“First, it was Monnie talkin’ about bring her back a niece or nephew. Now, you! I can't deal with this. Why does everybody want me to get pregnant?” I laughed. “I don't know Monnie’s reasons because I wouldn't trust her to watch a pot of boiling water. However, I know mine, and I have… well,… many,” he said leaning back against the kitchen chair. He raised his arms so that they rested across the back. “And what might those be? Hm? I really wanna know, sir. Tell me,” I said as I turned to the food waiting on the stove.

“Don't worry about it, Mama. Just know I haven't found a reason not to. I'm just waitin' on you,” he said smiling. “Yo’ ass gone be waitin' a long ass time, too. A baby? Terry, you can't be serious!” I squealed. “A long ass time, huh? That's what you think. Imma get one out of you, ‘Vana. Best believe, I'm not gone have to trap you to do it either,” he cackled. “You know what? I'm not doin' this with you!” I said beginning to plate the food.

20 minutes later

“Done, baby?” I asked Terry while standing with my plate in my hand. “Uh,… Yeah,’’ Terry said. “You sound unsure. Baby, I ain't gone ever tell you you can't have more,” I said placing my plate in the sink. Terry’s eyes rose to meet my backside. His eyes lingered on my ass since my back was still turned. “More of what?” Terry asked biting his lip. I could sense a hint of something in his voice. I peeked over my shoulder to see him watching me. I giggled at his antics. “Terry? You know I can see you, right?” I said walking back to the table. I leaned over so that my face was close to his. If this was the game he wanted to play, let’s do it!

“Mmm. Why you playin’ wit’ me, ‘Vana?” he said shifting in his seat. “It’s easy,” I responded. “Oh, really?” he said licking his lips. I could feel his breath on my face. His chest was rising and falling rapidly. I could tell he was becoming more aroused by the second. “You never answered my question, honey. Do you want more?” I asked squatting down in front of him. “And you never answered mine. More of what?’” Terry asked as he leaned up to gently grab my chin. “You want my honest answer?” I asked placing my hands on his knees.

Terry's eyes watched my hands. “Of course, I want honesty, mama. Talk to me,” he said letting his thumb stroke my cheek. “If Daddy wants more, he can have whatever the fuck he wants,” I said trailing my hands up his thighs. Terry’s movements stilled, and his eyes shot up to my face. His eyes clouded with lust and darkened with desire.

Terry’s grip on my chin tightened as he used it to pull me forward. My knees hit the floor so I was kneeling in front of him. I leaned over and let my cheek rest on his growing erection. “Mamas, don't start something you can't finish. If you aren't ready for this, find you something safe to do,” he said. “The fuck is that supposed to mean,” I snapped as I looked up at him. “Aye, watch yourself. You heard me, little girl. I meant what I said,” he said grabbing my chin again. “Me? A little girl? Does someone need a reminder of who the fuck I am?” I asked leaning back on my calves and folding my arms across my chest. “You got one more cuss word before I…,” he said lowering his eyes into slants.

I couldn't believe I was doing this. I was initiating “playtime”. The excitement of the unknown pulsed through my veins. I was about to allow Terry to fully indulge in his needs and wants. I calmed my breathing before looking up at Terry again. “Before you what? You ain't gonna do shit, and we both know it. There ain't shit you can give that I can’t take,” I said fully committing to brat mode.

“You sure you wanna take this route? Once we begin, there's no turning back. You know that, right?” Terry asked leaning over me. His posture had changed and so had his energy. His shoulders were stiff and squared. It was as if his body was blanketing my entire aura and being. I sat for a minute contemplating my next move. How could I outdo myself?

I smiled as a thought crept into my head. I pulled my hands away and placed them in my lap. With the confidence of a goddess, I said, “You created this monster. Deal with it.” Terry's breathing halted before a smirk spread across his face. His hands instantly grabbed a handful of hair at the back of my head. “You got a lotta mouth, lil mama. I don't like that. I don't like it all,” he said tightening his grip. I moaned loudly. I could feel a puddle growing in my panties.

I was fully committed to my role as a brat. I laughed at Terry in an attempt to piss him off. That was having little to no effect on him. I knew I had to make him execute his fantasy to the fullest. I took a deep breath before speaking. “Fuck all that! What you trying to do, huh?” I asked biting my lip and cocking my head to the side.

All sentiments of expression left Terry’s face, and his body grew in anger. His hand quickly left my hair and found my throat. He squeezed tight enough for my breathing to stop. Ironically, all I could think about was how good this felt. My pussy quivered and ached as I released what felt like a mini orgasm. It soaked through my panties as he loosened the grip he had on my throat. “Look at you. Daddy’s little slut. You just couldn't help yourself, huh? That’s fine, mama. Just know this— when we get in that room, I’m gone turn yo thick ass every which way but loose. Don't run. Don't speak. Don't touch shit. It's my turn. Got it?” he said, releasing me with a push.

I looked up at Terry with big doe eyes before speaking again. “Yes, Big Daddy. I understand,” I said while struggling to hide my excitement. “Oh, you think those pretty brown eyes gone help you, huh? Ha! Too late for that. I’m trying to see the monster I created. Bring her out. Fuck all that cute shit!” he said leaning back into the chair. “But…” I started. “Aye, I don't remember asking you to speak. The only thing I want you to do with that there pretty mouth of yours is to suck, lick, slob, swallow, and do it again. You nasty, bitch!” Terry demanded.

As if activated on cue, I could feel the heat between my legs. I wanted this man’s hands all over me. RIGHT THE FUCK NOW! It was Terry’s turn to indulge in his fantasy as a dom. I loved the idea since he would show hints of it sometimes. His only request was not to be easy. He didn't want me to fully submit without any pushback. He liked the idea of me talking shit and provoking him. Terry’s plan involved leaning into a darker side of himself that he had never completely let out, and I trusted him enough to agree to do it. I felt he deserved this moment especially since he didn't judge me about mine.

So, let’s see where tonight takes us.

Taglist: @brattyfics @avoidthings @5headsupremacist @insidefeelingofanadult @creartivefairy @kirayuki22 @nayaesworld @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @ariiijestertheklown @miyuhpapayuh @megamindsecretlair @nayaxwrites @jimmybutlrr @gg-trini @vivaalenaa @slutsareteacherstoo

@skyesthebomb @blowmymbackout @blackerthings @mymindisneverhere @androgynousgaz @becauseimswagman1 @gwenda-fav @poektiou624 @keyaho @pocketsizedpanther @sageispunk

@charismablu @4ftwonder @4pfsukuna @writingsbytee @babybratzmaraj @pinkpantheris @honeytoffee @talkswithdesi

@onherereading @blyffe @beenathembo @helloncrocs @thiccc-c @persethegawd

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mymindisneverhere · 2 days ago

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FAVORS (18+)

Part Four

warnings: 18+, MDNI!, SMUT, sub!Terry, soft dom!black fem OC, oral sex (fem receiving), dirty talking, explicit language, lots of dialogue, slow burn (forgive me if I missed any)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

“On your knees.” She instructed.

Terry stayed still for a few seconds before lowering himself to the ground, one knee at a time. His eyes stayed on her while he assumed the position. She watched as he took his time. Even in this state, his authoritative aura was still very present.

Khloé made her way into the kitchen, her heels clicking against the open floor. She reached into her refrigerator to retrieve a few things before coming back into the living room. Terry kept his eyes on her the whole time, admiring the way her hips swayed as she walked over to him.

She placed a tall can of whipped cream, a large container of strawberries and a bottle of chocolate syrup on the coffee table. Walking to her desk she rolled her office chair over and placed it just a few inches in front of Terry.

“Since you have such a smart mouth, let’s put it to good use.” She smirked. “I told you to be mindful of who you interact with and how, remember?”

“Yeah, but-“ He started.

“Yeah?” She cut him off, tilting her head to the side. She stared down at him until the mistake finally registered in his mind.

“Yes ma’am.” His hazel eyes stared up at her as he corrected himself. “But I barely spoke to anyone, just like you asked.”

She grabbed the can of whipped cream and shook it as she sat down in the chair. She sprayed a small amount onto her index finger before licking it off. Running her tongue against her finger then using her lips to pick up what her tongue missed, teasing him as much as possible. Terry’s eyes never left her lips as she sucked the treat off of her fingers. He balled his fist behind his back as he watched her, wishing he was grabbing a handful of her hair while she sucked him the same way.

“I told you not to interact with my cousin, Nia. So imagine my surprise when I look over and she’s laughing in your face.”

Terry frowned, trying to instantly recall all of the people he had met tonight. “I didn’t meet anyone named Nia.”

“Blue dress, red lip, ponytail.” She stated, refreshing his memory.

“She told me her name was Imani.”

“Imani?” Khloé repeated with a chuckle.

Terry nodded.

“I should’ve known. Imani is her middle name.” Khloé rolled her eyes at the thought of her. “Bitch hates her mother so much she’s going by a different name just to spite her.”

“How was I supposed to know that was Nia?” He asked, as she continued eating the whipped cream, this time placing two fingers in her mouth.

“What did she say about me?” Khloé brought her hand under his chin and tilted his head back a bit.

“She said she was your older cousin and that you were always in competition with her since you were kids…” He trailed off as the realization set in. He recalled the conversation they had in the car shortly before arriving at the banquet.

“I told you she was a sneaky bitch.” Khloé shook the can once again. “Open and stay open.” She sprayed the whipped cream onto his tongue before sticking hers into his mouth. They kissed, fighting for as much of the treat as they could while also fighting to taste one another.

She reached down and caressed his dick through his pants, feeling his thick bulge jump against her palm. Terry moaned into her mouth, as she sucked his bottom lip. He leaned further, trying to keep her lips locked onto his but she leaned back a bit, smirking at his desperation. She licked the leftover whipped cream from his lips and turned toward the table.

“So tell me-” She opened the container of strawberries and popped the top of the chocolate syrup. “-what did you say to her that was so funny?”

She squeezed a decent amount of chocolate into the top of the container and sat it back down. Terry licked his lips, not even bothering to try and replay any more of the conversation in his mind. He was too focused on her to care about his short talk with her cousin. He wanted to remain as present as possible in this moment, not wanting to miss a second of being like this with her.

“I don’t remember.”

“She placed a hand on your shoulder, which is technically my shoulder. So whatever you said to her must’ve been hysterical.” She grabbed the container of strawberries and pushed her hips forward to the edge of the chair, leaning back so that her sex was face to face with him.

“You’ve got until I finish my strawberries to make me cum as hard as you made her laugh.” She stared down at him and lifted one leg onto his shoulder, the other hanging off the arm of the office chair. Her inner thigh rubbed up against the side of his face as she made herself comfortable.

“How am I supposed to do that with my hands cuffed?” He questioned, his eyes scanning from her pussy up to her face.

“Use that slick ass mouth of yours.” She spat, taking a large bite of the first strawberry.

Terry took a deep breath while deciding how he would go about getting through the fabric that stood between him and her. She sat back watching to see what his next move was going to be. Because she knew a man like him enjoyed a challenge, she figured why not go ahead and give him one.

He leaned forward, placing his lips against the crotch of her panties. He inhaled deeply taking in her scent before opening his mouth to hook his teeth onto the lace.

“And you better not bite me.”

His eyes shot up to her face as his eyebrows arched. Being as careful as possible, he used his teeth to cut into the fabric, ripping it a small piece at a time. She smirked at him, enjoying every second of him gnawing at her panties, trying his hardest to get to her pussy.

She grabbed another strawberry and dipped it into the small pool of chocolate as he continued trying to tear her lingerie with his mouth. The sight of him ripping into the thin fabric of her underwear was turning her on by the second. He was really determined to get to her.

After a few more moments, she heard a long rip and felt a cool breeze against her wet pussy. She stopped mid chew and looked down at him, a bit shocked that he had done it so quickly.

Without even looking up at her, he dove right in, pressing a flat tongue against her clit. She sucked in a sharp breath at the sudden feeling of his mouth on her. He closed his lips around her clit and sucked before licking it again. The sounds of him kissing her pussy took over the room. She rested her back onto the chair and closed her eyes, humming from the enjoyment of her favorite snack while getting head from her new boy toy.

Terry was relishing in this moment more than he could imagine. He was dealing with a woman who he knew wasn’t easy to please but that didn’t stop him from doing all he could to prove himself. He had never been one to give up easily and little did she know this was his speciality.

He dipped his thick tongue inside of her, before gently dragging it right back up to her clit and sucking it again. Khloé hissed, bringing her head forward to watch him in action. She needed to see what he was doing that made it harder for her to finish her fruit. She was poised for the majority of the time but it was becoming a challenge for her to minimize her reactions. Noticing how her body was reacting to him, he did it again. This time looking up at her, his eyes shifting to an icy blue, while he slipped his tongue inside her hole.

“Mmmmm, eat this pussy daddy.” She moaned.

He moved back up to her clit and gently sucked it while rotating in circles simultaneously. Although he was the one who had been cuffed, he had her bound just by using his tongue.

“Oooh fuck, you look so good right now.”

Her sensual voice was music to his ears. The sounds of her soft voice caused him to moan against her pussy. The sensation from his deep tone sent shivers up her spine making her arch her back.

“Yesssss fuck yes!” She was completely out of character at this point and ready to cum in his mouth. She had only gotten through three strawberries, the fourth one she held in her hand half eaten.

The sounds she was making, the things she was saying, and her calling him out of his name was slowly unlocking the beast in him as he continued devouring her clit. It didn’t take long for him to become familiar with her body. She was constantly squirming, unable to take another bite out of her strawberry so he decided to stay right where he was because ‘X’ marks the spot. The more he focused on her spot, the more she abandoned her persona.

“Fuuuck, you’re ‘bout to make me cum already.” She spoke, her teeth clenching as she watched him tear her apart. At this point she’d said fuck the strawberries.

It had been a few years since she had gotten any from a man. Long nights of pleasuring herself with her hands or her vibrator would get her through but nothing could beat having a man headfirst in between her thighs.

“Mmmm, just like that.” She said repeatedly, dropping the fruit from her hand and grabbing the top of his head.

Her jaw dropped as she gasped at the intense feeling that coursed through her body and settled in her stomach. Her eyes began to roll but she fought her hardest to keep them open and on him. He set his eyes on her, while increasing his intensity as he watched her react to her body going through the many phases of her orgasm.

The rise.

“Oh my god!” She yelled out, as she dropped her head back onto the chair. “Don’t stop, don’t stop.” He did as he was told, latching himself onto her, repeatedly pressing the button that was driving her crazy.

The climax.

“Yesssssss, ohhhh fuck!” Her hips jerked against his lips as she let herself go. He followed her movement, his lips never leaving her button until he could sense her body becoming less reactive. He wanted to be sure he took her as high as she could possibly go… no stone unturned.

The resolution.

The top half of her body rose and fell as she tried to focus on catching her breath. Soft moans escaped her lips with every exhale. Her hand never left his head, she was too busy trying to bring herself back into the now.

He licked up the sweet remains of her pleasure that leaked from the opening of her pussy. He placed kisses along her inner thighs up to the mound of her pussy and stopped along her pelvis while she tried to steady her breathing.

She stared at the ceiling, blinking slowly. Her body was exhausted after cumming so hard for the first time in a while. She sat back quietly, only her the sounds of her heavy breathing filled the room as he continued kissing her body.

“Was that hard enough for you Ms. MacArthur?” He stared up at her with a cocky grin on his face.

Khloé finally brought her eyes down to him.

“Fuck yes.” She sat up and grabbed his face, shoving her tongue in his mouth. She wanted to taste herself on his pretty lips. They immediately fell into a rhythm with each other. Sharing moans as they wrestled in each other's mouths. She finally pulled back and stared down at him.

“That was a minor slip up that technically wasn’t all your fault.” She started. “But I did enjoy seeing you like this.”

She carefully stood from the chair, not wanting him to see that his tongue was still directly affecting her ability to move. But he noticed it anyway, biting his lip while she walked away. She crossed the room to retrieve the small key to unlatch the cuffs on his wrists. She removed them and stood back as she watched him stand from his position.

She then grabbed the snacks off of the table and retreated to the kitchen. Terry watched her as her expression became very relaxed and returned back to normal.

“Wait, you’re leaving me like this?” His eyebrows bent in frustration. She looked down at his hard dick that was now obviously showing through his pants.

“Of course.” She smiled, tying her robe closed. “Be patient. When I’m ready to drain you, I will. And don’t even think about jacking off. I want you rock hard when I swallow you.”

Terry stood there staring at her as she walked back over to him. She could see the sexual frustration written all over his face. She couldn’t help but giggle.

“You did a good job.” Khloé raised her hand to rub a soft thumb over his lips. “Check your bank account in the morning. Have a good night Mr. Richmond.”

She placed a small peck on his lips and walked into her bedroom leaving him standing there. He grabbed his things and headed home, already preparing to take a cold shower.

Terry sat at the small dining table in Summers' kitchen. He agreed to stop by before going to work to help ease her anxiety surrounding the check she had gotten in the mail.

“So you’re telling me that a “friend” just offered to give you back the money you lost because you did them a favor?” Summer asked, pouring a cup of coffee for the two of them.

“Yes, exactly that.” Terry chuckle at her skepticism.

Terry decided against telling Summer the whole truth. It was true that he was doing someone a favor and that they were paying him for his help. But to tell her exactly who the money was coming from and what he was doing to get it seemed like too much information for her. The less details, the better.

“I mean how am I ever gonna pay this back, I can’t just take it-“

“Yes you can.” He said taking the coffee mug from her hands. “Don’t worry about paying it back, you don’t have to.”

“Terry, I just-“ Summer placed a hand on her hip and shook her head. “Thank you, seriously. This is gonna be so good for Bailey. I really can’t thank you enough. I feel like I’m dreaming right now.”

“It’s not a problem. You did a lot for me, a total stranger, in just a matter of a few days. I’m grateful for you.” He smiled.

“Well I’ve already got the applications for the school filled out. I just have to turn in her tuition and once I do that she’ll be good to start next semester.” Summer smiled down at the papers on her counter. “Once they see she’s doing just fine in school, they’ll grant us the approval to move and I am getting the hell out of dodge.”

Terry smiled at her. He was genuinely happy to see her get what she finally worked so hard for. To watch her work so hard to stay clean and healthy to ensure that she’d get to have her daughter back full time warmed his heart. He stared down at his watch and quickly stood from the table.

“I gotta get going.” He said taking one last sip of coffee before heading to the front door. “Let me know how the enrollment for Bailey goes.”

Before Summer could respond he was already out the door and in his truck. She shook her head as she turned to walk out of the kitchen. As she turned, she noticed the bowl of food she made for him sitting on the edge of the table.

“So what do your parents think about him?” Olivia asked.

“My parents seem to like him, they haven’t really said much though so I’m gonna assume the best.” Khloé said, flipping through the folder filled with employee information. “Maybe I’ll get a real review once we go to my mothers birthday party.”

“That’s gonna be something. Will your cousin Nia or should I say “Imani” be there?” Olivia joked.

“God I hope not. I can’t believe she really told him her name was Imani, nobody calls that bitch that.” Khloé rolled her eyes. “But that’s okay, I got something for her the next time I see her.”

“Well if it is at your moms party, you better hope Terry is far away from her.”

“Oh he will be, trust me.” The two women carried on their conversation unaware of the person standing directly in front of the desk. They were so caught up in their gossip, they never turned their heads in her direction.

“Excuse me.” The woman spoke, interrupting their chatter. “I’m looking for Terry Richmond.”

The mentioning of his name caused Khloés head to snap in the direction of the voice.

“And you are?” Olivia asked.

“Sorry, I’m Summer McBride, a friend of his.” Summer said. “He left his lunch behind, I'm just bringing it to him.”

Olivia looked over at Khloé to see her reaction but Khloés eyes were glued to Summer. Khloé stood from her chair as she eyed Summer from head to toe, trying to find some resemblance that would make her a relative of Terrys. But there was obviously none in sight. So who the hell was she to him because she clearly wasn’t family.

“I’ll call the floor supervisor and have him come to the front.” Olivia stated. “You can have a seat.” She made the call notifying them that Terry had a visitor.

Summer looked over at Khloé who was burning a whole through her face. She looked down awkwardly and made her way to the empty chairs that sat close to the front doors. Khloés eyes stayed on her as she crossed the floor.

Jealousy was slowly brewing in Khloé. That was something she had a hard time dealing with when it came to the men she chose. Even if she didn’t think the women were prettier than her or more successful than she was, it still ate at her that her man’s attention was going to any other woman besides her. If it wasn’t his mother, then they shouldn’t matter to him.

After a few moments the sound of the double doors leading to the work floor opened and Terry walked through. He glanced over at the receptionist desk and then to the entrance.

“You forgot your lunch.” Summer smiled, standing to hand him his food. “I put extra crackers in there for you.”

“Damn my bad. I was in such a rush, I wasn't even paying attention.” Terry shook his head and grabbed the food from her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, I’ll call you later.” Summer said before looking over at Khloé to see her still staring directly at her. Summer pushed a small piece of hair behind her ear before walking out of the warehouse.

Khloés eyes then snapped to Terry, who was already making his way back through the double doors. He didn’t bother acknowledging her because there was really no need to.

She was fuming at this point. She recalled telling him not to have any women popping up asking for or about him. Not only had a woman come to the job, it was the same woman she had written a check for. A woman he said was his family. He lied to her.

Khloé continued staring in his direction until he completely disappeared behind the double doors.

“Didn’t you have me send the check to Summer McBride?” Olivia asked, looking over at Khloé.

“Yes.” Khloé spoke in a really low tone.

“There is no way they are not related. I mean she’s clearly whi-“

“Shut up Liv.” Khloé cut her off before she could finish. She grabbed her keys and her cell phone and made her way back to her office.

Khloé closed the door to the office and slammed herself in the chair behind her desk. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths trying to contain her emotions before she did something she would regret.

She sat silently, trying to figure out how she would go about this situation. Terry didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would lie about something like this but then again he was a man. They all lied.

‘Maybe I’m missing something.’

Khloé shook her head trying to rid her mind of the worst possible scenarios. Just as quickly as she was ready to ride him into oblivion, that desire faded. Her anger was lingering longer than she expected and she needed so badly to release it. She reached for her phone and shot a quick text to him.

‘My place at 9’

She didn’t even bother to wait for him to respond, if he knew better he’d be there like she told him to. Grabbing her belongings she rushed out of the building and made her way home, mentally preparing for the night.

to be continued…

(Forgive me for taking so long to update! I was trying to bounce back from this election chile. But we gone be alright. 😭)

#aaron pierre #terry richmond #aaron pierre fanfiction #aaron pierre x black fem reader #aaron pierre x black reader #rebel ridge #terry richmond fic #aaron pierre fic #terry richmond x black female reader #terry richmond x black!oc

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tkomptgoedluv · 2 days ago

Text

icantbelieveiletyougetaway.

joost klein x f! reader

tags: dead dove do not eat, f! reader, non-famous! reader, reader really needs to see a therapist, established friendship, they’re so in love with each other it hurts but can’t admit it, joost just wants to be her everything, angst, hurt, comfort, all characters are dutch and speak in dutch but dialogue is written in english for obvious reasons.

word count: 4,156.

warnings: very brief allusion to drugging, heavy and frequent references to SA, violence, vague mentions of non-specific mental illness, rpf.

notes: in my head this takes place in 2021-2022 when joost had that really short, almost buzzcut like hair? like the wachtmuziek era. also, very sorry this is late!! it’s still only been half-proofread and i’m not even sure i like how i wrote the ending but here she is anyway. i love her and i hope you do too 💋.

── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ── ── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ── ── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──

with shaking hands, you fumbled around the bathroom floor to find your phone. your chest was heaving, the cries that you struggled to keep quiet were getting all caught up in your throat as you fought meekly through the nausea. you wiped at your face again, desperate to clear your vision and leaving behind a mixture of tears, snot, and smeared mascara on the back of your hand.

the room itself was dark, barely lit up by a singular dim, yellow light, though despite the shadows you could still see how everything was spinning. you couldn’t remember how many drinks you’d had — it hadn’t felt like a lot, you weren’t a lightweight by any means but you didn’t know how else to explain the state you were in. you couldn’t stand up even if you wanted to, your legs strangely numb to the touch and the pounding in your head made staying on the floor all the more appealing anyway.

face down on the grimey, tiled floor you found your phone laying just underneath the sink. you ignored the low battery warning as you swiped through your contacts, squinting through your tears at the screen as if it would actually help you see any better. you were only looking out for one name; the third out of the four that were listed under the letter ‘J’, and the only name to have an emoji next to it.

over the sound of the heavy, techno bass that seemed to shake the walls and the buzz of a hundred different people all talking amongst each other, you heard the line start to dial. it didn’t make sense to call him out of everyone else that could possibly help you; he was infamously known for never picking up the phone. it was ironic for someone so notoriously attached to their screens, his face typically glued to either his phone or his ipad.

but still, you hadn’t so much as thought twice about it as you clicked on his contact and then the call button. With your head tilted back against the wall and your knees curled up tightly against your chest, you prayed to any god listening that by some miracle, he wouldn’t be busy.

“hallo?”

you let out a whimper at the mere sound of his voice, a small, pathetic noise that quickly turned into a cry that you didn’t bother to stifle. he called out your name for a second time, though now in a tone that was much softer than the one before it.

“i’m sorry, i know it’s late.” you paused to take a breath, your voice having cracked like glass as you spoke. “but i need your help. i don’t…joost, i don’t know what to do.”

“it’s okay, just take a big breath for me.” for just a moment you heard shuffling around on the other end of the line. with each of his footsteps the background noise grew quieter until it disappeared completely, following the sound of a door being shut. “where are you?”

“i’m at…i’m at this house but i uh, i really don’t wanna be here anymore. do you think you could…can you just come get me, please? i’m sorry.”

over the sound of a drum and bass beat that played so obnoxiously loud, you struggled to catch all the whispers from joost’s side of the phone call. there was another voice there, that much you could hear, and you struggled to place it despite how familiar it sounded. you tried to concentrate on the faint muttering, straining your ears to hear it over the song that blared just below you.

but then you jumped when the banging started. a sudden flurry of fists pounding against the wood and making the bathroom door rattle within its hinges. from the deep laughs that followed, chances were it was just a group of guys trying to be funny, probably thinking it was one of their friends getting lucky on the other side. and yet still, you found yourself gasping for breath as you choked back fresh tears, all the blood that ran through your veins turning cold.

“schatje? did you hear me?”

you could only hum back in response.

“i said i need you to send me your location, okay? and then i’ll come get you, i promise.”

it was the moment you figured out how to do so that your phone finally gave up on you. after hitting send, the little map displaying your whereabouts popping up in yours and joost’s text chain, your screen began to freeze. in a moment of panic you managed to choke out that you were locked away in a bathroom before it all went black, leaving you to stare at the taunting dead battery symbol.

you weren’t oblivious to the irony of it all. in a house crammed full of people, perhaps even a few too many than it was built to hold, you felt alone. just a few minutes ago that was all you wanted, to be by yourself, but now it left you with a ringing in your ears. the absence of joost’s voice was enough to throw you inside what felt like a black hole, where time seemed to slow the longer you waited for him.

you found a brief comfort in watching the time pass on the old, analog clock that hung high on the wall opposite you; you figured it was a better thing to focus on besides the sharp ache between your legs. it helped keep you distracted from the way everything just hurt now, whatever it was that was in your system already starting to wear off. without it numbing you to the pain of it all, you could feel the headache brewing behind your eyes and the sting of your split lip.

with each minute that dragged by, the slow, high-pitched tick of the clock echoing inside your ears, your mind began to slip further and further away. every time that you closed your eyes you could see it happening all over again; you could feel his hands back on you, ripping at your clothes and bruising your skin.

all the tears that you had only just managed to blink away came rushing back, continuing to decorate your face with more long, dark streaks of black. surely, this was going to be the thing to finally break you. there would never be any redemption or recovery for you — he’d get to live the rest of his life without burden whilst this was bound to be the death of you.

the more you unravelled, the more erratic your cries grew with hiccups racking your body and a deep burning in your eyes. for once you found yourself grateful for the music’s mind-numbing volume, though somehow it still wasn’t enough to mask the sound of a soft tapping against the bathroom door. like a coward you froze, failing to answer back before you heard your own name being yelled out to you, followed by a harsher knock.

“hey it’s me, it’s joost. can you open the door please?”

as you steadily climbed to your feet, using the edge of the sink to help push you up, your knees began to shake. they threatened to buckle out from under you with every step that you took, each limp towards the door sending a short stabbing pain up to your abdomen. the sensation made you wince, your jaw clenched and a grip on the door handle so strong that it turned your knuckles white.

it was almost sardonic how despite being in a house so loud, everything went quiet as soon as that door swung open. the music never stopped nor did anyone dare to change its volume, but all joost could hear was his own heartbeat thumping in his ears as his eyes met yours. all he could do was swallow, pushing down the bile that was quickly rising up his throat.

even in the low, warm light of the bathroom, he could see the streaked mascara that painted your face and the bloodied lip that was still trickling down your chin. your favourite shirt, the one that he himself had bought you, was torn and just about hanging off your shoulders. it exposed a trail of black and blue spots that started along your shoulder and went all the way down your arms, a couple even dotted down your legs.

joost uttered your name, his voice barely audible over the music downstairs. the corners of your frown twitched, your bottom lip quivering as you shook your head, already answering the question he hadn’t even asked yet. from where you stood he could see you shaking, your knees weak and barely holding you up right. he didn’t hesitate to pull you into him, an arm locking around your waist as his hand found the back of your head, keeping you hidden in his chest.

“jesus christ, what happened to you?”

you couldn’t speak, couldn’t find the right words to even try and explain what it was you had gone through. you could only weep into the fabric of joost’s jacket, so exhausted and overwhelmed that you didn’t have the strength to hold yourself together in front of him. but it was more than enough of an answer for joost who just held you tighter the harder you cried, fighting back tears of his own.

pulling away as gently as he could, joost still kept you in his grasp. his hands cupped either side of your jaw, calloused thumbs wiping away stray-fallen tears as his eyes danced over your face. with a gaze so intense, you could see his eyes growing sadder the longer he looked you over in the dull light of the bathroom.

“i left stunts outside — he’s still in the car. we could…we should go to the hospital.”

“no!” your own dramatic change in tone caught even you off guard. you couldn’t help it, you were panicking now, pulling joost back by his sleeve as he tried to guide you out of the bathroom. the action made you wobble and almost trip over your own feet, flinching at the sudden cramp you felt deep in your stomach. joost’s grip on you hardened, not nearly enough to hurt but enough to keep you from falling back and hitting your head on the sink. “not tonight. please, i just wanna go home. i’ll be fine.”

“you can barely fucking stand, schatje. you need help.”

“then i promise i’ll go in the morning! but right now i just really need you to take me home, okay? i’m begging you.”

perhaps if joost had a little bit more of a backbone and wasn’t so hopelessly head over fucking heels for you, he would’ve had the courage to say no. he would have been able to look you in the eye and still say that he was going to get you to a doctor, whether you wanted to go or not. but no matter how much he wanted to, how much he hated what you were asking of him, he couldn’t. feeling you trembling in his hands and hearing the fear that shook your voice meant there was longer a single thing that joost wouldn’t do for you.

you were his best friend just as much as he was yours, regardless of all the very non-platonic things the two of you had done together over the years. as far as you were concerned it was just something that you’d do sometimes, only ever as friends. there were never any conversations about it the next morning, never any acknowledgment for what it was you had done the night before; it was almost like it never happened until it would undoubtedly happen again. you always liked it like that though — as long as it meant that you never had to think about how you really felt.

joost, on the other hand, was painfully aware of what he felt about your situation, about you. it was never just sex for him, not even once, and he wanted to talk about it. and he tried to, a couple of times, spending the first few mornings after trying to coax you back into bed just so he could hold you skin-to-skin for a little while longer. but you never wanted to stay and you never wanted to talk about it, either, so joost stopped. he let it become another pain he had to live with and spent each day telling himself that he was okay with that.

it was with only a slight hesitation that he nodded before standing back up straight, slipping his big black jacket off his arms and draping the material gently over your shoulders.

you let joost take on most of your weight as you leaned into his side, letting him guide you back through the house as you focused on just trying to make it down the stairs without tripping. to say that the place was packed was an understatement. people were crammed into every room like sardines, dancing and grinding against each other with stiff, swinging jaws. you hadn’t even heard what it was that had been said over the music, its volume still just as loud and disorienting as it had been when you first arrived.

but joost had heard every word, somehow, despite the sound of his own song polluting the room. it made him freeze on the spot, pulling you to a stop right along with him as he slowly turned to face the group of guys that were standing just in front of the front door. you felt your throat start to close at the sight of him amongst them, standing front and centre with a sick grin plastered across his face, his eyes darting between you and joost.

“what did you just say?”

it might have been the gruff, nauseating voice that you recognised, or maybe it was those ring-heavy hands of his that you could still feel pressed into your skin. you didn’t know, and it didn’t matter, because you knew it was him.

“i said good luck with that one, dude. she doesn’t go down easy; kept trying to fight me the whole time.” his stare then fell from joost onto you, his tongue gliding over his bottom lip as he looked you up and down. “but we still had our fun though, didn’t we schat?”

the crack of joost’s knuckles colliding with his jaw was something you heard before you saw it; the thud of him hitting the ground following soon after. a chorus of screams and cheers rang painfully in your ears as you watched a small circle quickly form around you. anyone that could still see straight had either ran from the fight or pushed forward to get a better view of it, their phones held high and already recording.

“bet that made you feel like a man, huh? forcing yourself on a girl half your size. you piece of fucking shit, i should fucking kill you!”

in all the years you’d known him, you had never seen joost like that before; his voice low and angry as his shouts drowned out the music. he hadn’t waited for him to get back up before throwing another punch, the sharp crunch of his noise breaking making you wince and your eyes water.

you went to step forward, your hands already reaching out to grab joost’s arm when one of his friends pounced. a shriek was ripped out from you when a fist struck joost right across the cheek, knocking him into you hard enough to almost send you both tumbling to the floor. any chance for you to try and intervene again vanished when you were pushed back before you could get close enough, joost quickly shoving you behind him as he swung for the other guy.

a strong pair of arms wrapped your middle and pulled you further back as you cried for them all to stop, keeping you locked against their chest no matter how hard you thrashed. distance was put between you and the fight when you were picked up and half-dragged out the door, joost’s blond hair disappearing from sight amongst the growing crowd around him.

the bitter air of the early morning stole your breath, your chest tight and aching as the cold consumed you. small flakes of snow drifted down from the paleing sky, dusting each rooftop and the old, cracked pavements in a thin layer of white. still, there were a handful of people gathered on the house’s front stairs, clad in various leather and latex, that only stood and watched as you were hauled away from the party.

“get the fuck off me! we’ve gotta go back, we can’t just leave him! stuntje, please!”

your feet only met the floor again once you were next to stunt’s car, safely across the street. even from there, you could hear the childish chanting of ‘fight! fight! fight!’ and the occasional glass break from inside.

“martijn -”

“- stay here; i’m gonna go get him.”

you weren’t allowed to argue, so you just did what you were told. for four minutes you sat waiting in the back of the car with the heaters on full blast and still shivering as you nestled yourself deeper into joost’s jacket. after another minute you saw them heading back your way, their pace fast as they slipped past the last few people that loitered on the steps. in the glow of the streetlights you could just about make out the soft shade of purple that was joost’s eye, and the deep scowl that contorted stuntje’s face.

neither of them spoke as they joined you in the car but for joost, you never really gave him the chance to. his seatbelt hadn’t even clicked into place yet before you were turning away from him, desperate to pretend that he wasn’t there burning holes into the side of your head. if joost knew that you could see him staring from the corner of your eye, he didn’t care. if anything, he probably would’ve hoped that it might have made you look back at him, because then that at least would’ve been something.

but seeing joost storm out of that house with a violet eye and raw knuckles, having just risked everything for you without a second thought, it scared you more than you wanted to admit. he was only supposed to come find you, and bring you back home. you never wanted a fight, never wanted joost to wind up with a black eye over you. so no, you couldn’t look at him — couldn’t even talk to him, either.

except your silent treatment didn't last very long, did it? it couldn’t, because joost wasn’t going to let you get away with it this time. for as long as he had known you, you always had this habit of internalising what you felt and shutting down. it never mattered what it was you were going through, you just wouldn’t talk about it.

this time though, he wasn’t going to let you disappear in on yourself again, and he wasn’t going to let you shut him out, either.

as soon as the car came to a stop, joost was up and already outside your car door. with a sweet smile, gentle hands were pulling you up and slowly helping you onto your feet before you had the chance to protest. there was a part of you that wanted to, now too proud to admit that you still needed his help. already, he had done more than enough, even too much, for you.

still, you didn’t dare to fight it — or him, rather. besides a small goodbye to stuntje, no words were spoken as he slipped an arm under your knees and pulled you up to his chest. it was like that, that he carried you up the three flights of stairs of your building, glancing down at you every so often with soft, worried eyes. it was miraculous how he managed to open your front door with you still in his arms, his very own key to your home dangling from the clip on his jeans.

it wasn’t long before the soft leather of your sofa was dipping underneath your weight, its cushion beneath you feeling cold against the bruised flesh of your thigh. joost left you for only a second, just to switch on a couple of the lamps you had dotted around and to dig out your old first aid kit from the bathroom.

you still weren’t really looking at him, not even as he perched on the edge of your coffee table and carefully took your jaw in his hold. the brush of the alcohol wipes along the small cuts that marked your face stung and made you wince, your nose scrunching up at the pain. a string of quiet apologies followed as joost concentrated on cleaning you up, wiping away each and every smear of blood and smudged makeup.

the longer that you sat there whilst joost devoted all of his time and energy to you, the more teary-eyed you felt yourself becoming again. it felt almost…foreign to feel so loved after everything, like you were still somehow worth saving. there was no way that you could possibly deserve it — nothing you could’ve done to deserve having someone adore you so unconditionally without earning it.

and yet here he was, your joost, doing anything and everything to try and help, and you couldn’t even fucking look at him.

the only thing you could do was cry. the way you clutched your mouth did little to muffle the sounds of your distress and it drew back his attention after he turned away only to throw out all of the dirty, used wipes. it was the guilt that was doing this to you, the guilt of knowing that you were the reason why joost now had a black eye. that joost had risked his whole career by starting that fight, and you had been the one to punish him for it.

a warm hand squeezed your knee as another tucked fallen strands of hair behind your ear. it took a few tries of quietly calling out your name to finally get you to meet his eyes, but eventually you got there. nothing could have prepared you for just how sick he looked, the bags under his eyes seeming considerably darker than before and a deep frown tugging at the corners of his lips.

“i’m sorry i did this. i never should’ve gone with him, i know i shouldn’t have because i know that i know better but i still went and i should’ve done something more, i could’ve hit him harder or yelled, and i’m sorry i called you because your eye, that was me, that was my fault and i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i -”

with your face pressed flat against his chest, his sudden embrace almost swallowing you whole, you couldn’t find the rest of your slurred, blubbering words. somehow, at some point, joost manoeuvred you both onto the sofa and with his arms around you, kept you curled up against his side. a few fingers moved up the back of your neck to scratch your scalp as others held onto your hip.

it was the only thing he could think to do to shut you up, to calm you down enough to take big, slow breaths, in and out.

he didn’t have it in him to let you finish that sentence.

delicate reassurances were mumbled into your hair, quiet ‘you’re okay’’s and faint ‘it wasn’t your fault’’s becoming mantras that helped soothe the pain in your chest. you wanted to believe him and knew that you didn’t. you knew that as the deep baritone of his whispers slowly lulled you to sleep, you’d wake up with that pain still very much there.

but joost wasn’t going to stop trying anytime soon, noor was he going anywhere. it was one of the few things you’d actually let him do for you, making himself a home on your sofa whenever you would have one of your episodes. he’d sleep there, eat there, work there. sometimes joost would spend entire weeks of his life in your living room just so that he could know for sure you were still alive and breathing.

he was the only thing offering you the slightest bit of comfort. you could feel his fingers running through your hair as you curled up even further into his side, his voice still low in your ear. it was becoming to struggle just to keep your eyes open, but you knew that he wouldn’t mind.

you could fall asleep just to wake up with that same ache in your heart still there, but joost would still be there too. for now, that was all you needed.

#joost klein #joost klein x reader #joost klein x f!reader #luvvergirlwrites

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itsa-me-lily · 10 hours ago

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God I love this au, it's feeding me so good today. The last one with the part about only one bedroom has me thinking about a sick reader, the gross kind of sick where you're sweaty and wheezy and snotty, and the fact that if it were anyone else Simon would be quarantining them. But because it's his spouse, he wakes up to you nasally wheezing and mouth breathing while sprawled across him, and all he can think about is when you're due for your next round of medicine and if he needs to buy more tissues.

Sometimes love comes coated in mucus, and is reciprocated with an artificial cherry taste. Also do the guinea pigs have names and what do they look like?

I'm dying. This is the first ever ask I've ever gotten (that I recall) and I'm going to pass away. Also "sometimes love comes coated in mucus, and is reciprocated with an artificial cherry taste" that is such a good line, I'm apologizing in advance if I steal it.

Also warning for content of being sick, this is based off my last bout of plague.

Also Also Here's the Masterlist

Bedsharing in general does not happen at first. (Now I want to percolate an idea about sharing the bed for the first time). You're way to use to having your own bed that sharing with someone means you're not sleeping easily and I think Simon would rather sleep with the guinea pigs in their cage than have another human being that close to him when he sleeps. (This was also not something he initially thought about when being told a spouse was to be picked)

So what's the solution? Obviously bunk beds! Kind of, sorta...okay not really but the look on Simon's face when you had suggested getting bunk beds had been entertaining. Who knew so much indignation could come through a medical mask. Really his eyebrows did so much talking.

With the dream of bunkbeds dashed, the next best solution was either two twin beds crammed into the bedroom with a bedside's worth of space between them, or a pull out couch. You managed to find a couch same day that didn't terribly clash with the artwork you have yet to hang up.

You two actually manage to come up with a schedule for who slept where. Obviously you'd get the bed when Simon was deployed, made no sense for you not to. And when he was home the bed was all his unless he was having a night that he knew he wasn't going to trust a deadbolt to keep monsters at bay. Then he made himself comfortable, TV playing low until he managed a few hours in the early morning before you try to leave a silently as you can for work.

(Funny thing, even if you aren't sharing a bed traditionally, you both most certainly have your own sides, along with bed stands that told two different stories)

The first time you get sick is when Simon is technically deployed. Well actually, the day he returns is the day you spike a 101.8 fever and work forces you to go home so you don't become a walking petri dish and expose the college kids that come into your office.

Once you're home you appease the little beasts demanding some sort of vegetal boon, change into the rattiest clothes you have, and then huddle under a staggering amount of blankets that have made their home on your bed. (Simon may have side eyed them when you first set them out, but you've seen the mountain he creates under them, you knew the magic of weighted blankets)

Sleep isn't peaceful, you hadn't broken out the Nyquil quite yet, but you do manage to drift off for a few hours. And then the coughing starts. It's the kind that's a bitch to deal with, dry and pushing your ribs to the limit with how often they can expand and contract. By the time Simon comes home you've steamed yourself twice, taken only a smidge over the recommended amount of cough suppressant, and slathered yourself with Vic's Vaporub. All in all, you were properly miserable.

You're in the kitchen, staring into the abyss of your over-steeping tea as if it will magically make you feel better if you only sell your soul to it, really a tempting offer, when the wheeks of the pigs announce that another person they know has arrived.

If Simon wasn't clued in that something was off at seeing you home before the end of your work day, the pungent smell of menthol would have been a dead give away. You're still communing with your tea when he knocks against the wall, pulling you out of the deal for your soul to meet him with bleary eyes and a flushed face.

You croak out a greeting that makes Simon wince in sympathy, though that's about all he really does. Simon doesn't really do pleasantries and doting probably wouldn't be the first word people use to describe him, so with your brain function reduced by an overflow of mucus and fever, the kitchen was rather silent.

Until you started coughing, face buried into the crook of your elbow to try to keep your contagion to a minimum and back bowing to nearly double you over. That drives Simon to action, coming to try to keep you up incase you collapse, grabbing your free arm.

When you feel him touch you, you try to pull away, shaking your head and finally finishing your bout, gasping a little as you try to daunting task of breathing and speaking to dissuade him from getting close lest he catches what you have. He clearly wasn't persuaded, hands clenching and unclenching like he simply wanted to pick you up and put you...somewhere.

How exactly Simon Riley would take care of you, he didn't know but he'd be damned sure to at least try. He'd been left to fend for himself while sick before and he didn't like the idea of you going through that. When it was clear that he wasn't going to just leave you to your suffering you relented enough to try to reach a compromise; if he'd be alright watching the pigs while you were sick that would be more useful than a nursemaid while you camped out on the couch.

That...that was something Simon could do. He'd watched how you took care of the boys, surely this was something he could do. And then his brain caught up to the rest of what you had said. There was no way he was going to let you sleep on some pull out couch, as nice as it was. Being Sick meant sleeping in a proper bed, on a mattress that didn't spend it's days folded up.

You tried to insist it was alright but he wouldn't listen to a word of it. Instead he practically herded you back to the bedroom, ignoring your murmurs of your abandoned hot beverage. He didn't lift you to plop you onto the bed itself but it was a near thing. He had to bribe you with the promise of a proper cup of tea for you to even lay your head on your pillow, eyes already heavy with the need for sleep. By the time he had actually made a cup you were out for the count, nasally mucus filled snores letting him know you hadn't perished in the time it took him.

The next few days were filled with mucus, the attempted escape of your lungs via coughing fits, and more Vics than the human body should be exposed to. And the entire time you insisted that you could fend for yourself. Simon didn't push to play nurse, but your tissues never ran out, a dose of medication was always ready on your bedside, and a warm cup of tea stood waiting for you after each nap, like a solider committed to his guard.

Edit;

I'm going to make a separate post for the guinea pigs, because honestly I'm torn on if they're based on my guinea pigs I used to have, or guinea pigs I'd want to have in the future

#cod #simon riley x reader #simon x reader #simon ghost riley #military program spouse #I didn't mean to write so damn much but uh...surprise?

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nightlyrequiem · 23 hours ago

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I just got an idea, what if Valeria was at a club celebrating a deal or just treating her workers until the reader catches her eyes… but the reader also caught the eye of another one of her workers a guy who was kinda low in the chain of command or whatever. The reader wasn’t interested until the guys offered to buy her a drink which didn’t bother Valeria until the guys spiked her drink. The reader didn’t notice and was about to drink it until Valeria stopped her. You can decide what happens from there :p

P.S., Idk if this sounds as great as it does in my head. Love ur content tho 🥰😼

I wish I could go to a bar and have a pretty, evil older woman save me and buy me a drink...

Love this idea. I didn't know if you wanted smut so I didn't include any. If you want a part 2 with smut just let me know! I had fun writing this. It helped me get out of a little mental rut <3

Tags/Warnings: Attempted Drugging, WLW, Drinking

In Celebration

Every success no matter how small is worthy of celebration because it signifies progress. Valeria has just secured a small sector of Puerto Rico for herself. Just another expansion within her ever-growing empire. El Sin Nombre will be a name known across Latin America. Its personal boogeyman. This is an achievement worthy of drinks, drugs, and women. The nightclub Valeria chose is higher end. Higher budget, expensive booze, V.I.P corners, and Valeria's favourite part; a buffet of lovely women for her to take her pick from. Valeria and her lackeys walk through the crowded club towards their purchased booth. The music is loud, and the lights are low. Sweaty bodies writhe and bump up against each other as people forget their responsibilities and commitments, just for tonight.

Her workers laugh and jostle each other as they sit down. A scantily clad waitress scurries over and gets to work in taking orders for food and drinks. She intelligently pretends not to see a little baggie filled with fine white powder being passed between rough hands. Shots are brought to the table, and the night is officially at its start. Cards are brought out and Valeria joins in this time. Placing a bet of 36,126 pesos. She drinks and gambles, believing this to be the peak of the human experience. Valeria spares only a small glance, surveying the room for potential threats out of habit when she spots you. Her gaze gravitating to you like a wasp to sugar. She's transfixed by the way you move your hips and how short that little dress is. Valeria finds herself interested in the shadows between your legs.

A jittery man - one of her own - sidles up to you before she gets the chance. Valeria scoffs to herself at the sight. Where he gets the confidence to try his luck with someone so far out of his league escapes her, but maybe he's hoping you'll be drunk enough to gloss over his greasy appearance. She doesn't like that he approached first but she doubts you'll be into him. He's the personification of mange. he says something to you, leaning in and fanning his alcoholic breathe over your soft cheek. To her displeasure you nod and follow him through the crowd to the bar.

Occasionally Valeria glances over at the two of you. Sharp eyes quickly homing in on you. She doesn't trust him to not be a complete degenerate and she's also hoping that you simply lose interest. Leaving her room to slide in. For only a second you have your back turned. For only a second his hand is over your drink. Valeria scowls and stands, ignoring the confused looks from her men. Valeria pushes through the crowd towards you.

You raise your cup to your lips, but she quickly snatches it from you. Almost not hearing the indignant 'hey!' leaving your mouth. The man knows he's messed up. Bloodshot eyes widening before she shoves the cup in his hands.

"Drink it." She commands, glowering at him. You throw your arms up, upset at having your drink stolen.

"... Patrona-"

"Drink. It."

Valeria can glimpse you frowning at her in the corner of her eye, but she keeps her gaze on this worthless sack of meat. He reluctantly brings the cup to his lips and takes a small sip. She scowls and he relents. Downing the spiked drink.

He turns and retreats back into the crowd. She shakes her head in disgust.

"What the hell?" You exclaim angrily.

Valeria's expression relaxes as she turns to look at you. Her eyes running over you quickly. She raises an arm and hovers it over your shoulders, turning you back to the bar. "He's no good, sweetheart." She shakes her head, head lowered to murmur into your ear. "I'll buy you a new drink."

You give her an agitated look. "Why did you do that?" You ask firmly. She gently ushers you closer to the bar.

"He put something in your drink. I'll get you a new one."

Valeria lets you order whatever you want under her tab. Which you do so with reluctance. Throwing her wary glances. Your eyes drifting over her arms. The tattoos. The scars.

You sip your drink, mood dampened. Valeria leans against the bar.

"What's your name, guapa?" Valeria asks.

You tell her with narrowed eyes. "And you?"

"Valeria. Why don't you come sit with me?" She offers. "I'm playing poker and could use a good luck charm."

You scoff, rolling your eyes. "No, thanks."

Valeria isn't perturbed by your rejection. She moves closer but keeps enough distance that you could still move away from her if you wanted to. "No? Come on," Valeria says. Lips curling into an easy grin.

"Why would I want to watch you and a bunch of men play poker?"

"You get to sit around in good company and enjoy free drinks." She replies. She can feel your resolve faltering.

"I don't know about good company..." You sniff. "You look like trouble."

Valeria inches closer.

"I'm an angel." She says mockingly. Pleased to see a smile break out on your face.

"Angels are allowed tattoos?"

She feels confident enough to ghost her fingers down your bare arm. "This one is. Come sit with me."

You consider her words. Consider her. "Only for a little bit." You concede.

Valeria has you perched in her lap. Only a little bit turned into the better part of an hour. A few drinks completely dissolved any reservations about her. Your arm is slung over her shoulder, fingers stroking her skin.

"Fuck." Her opponent growls. Throwing his cards down at yet another loss.

"Gambling isn't your calling, pendejo." She sneers at him. Valeria collects her earnings and gives your thigh a tap, turning to face you, nose almost touching yours. "I'm going to call it a night, want to come back to mine?" She murmurs quietly.

"You won't be calling it a night for a while." You promise coyly.

#cod mw2 #valeria garza x reader #valeria garza x fem!reader #valeria garza #valeria garza cod #modern warefare ii #cod mwii #cod #cod x reader #call of duty #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare

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sulumuns-dootah · 22 hours ago

Text

Assigning WHB demons plants/flowers based off the vibes: Abyssos

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

A/N: I think I need to start attending some botany classes again bc from the way these post are turning into me rambling about plants i can tell I miss it :D

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Nepenthes rajah

I don't think this plant has a common name, but if it did it would be smth like Rat/Mouse eating pitcher plant

Bc that's exactly what the plant does

It's just big enough for the small rodent to climb into and never see the light of day again

This also probably explains why I picked it for Beel

I mean, he literally eats angels whole

(I find pitcher plants really cool bc they're literally just a pitchers filled with digestive fluid, but they're not necessary carnivorous - some life off of animal droppings or insects)

༺☆༻

Venus flytrap - Dionaea muscipula

At first i was gonna include maybe some other pitcher plant or completely different plant...

But then again, Bael is literally catching the King of flies on daily basis

Idk why, but looking at pics of the open leaves is really calming to me

Having them is kinda cool bc sometimes you just walk past and see one of their leaves closed bc it caught a fly and you'll feel kinda proud of your little baby for catching something

From my experience they don't close when you give them dead one, though

They might also be a bit harder to keep alive...

Mine made it few months, but then bloomed and died shortly after I cut the flower off (similar thing also happened to my friend who specialises in succulents and carnivorous plants so I don't think I did anything wrong)

༺☆༻

Poison Ivy - Toxicodendron

At first I was thinking I'll give Stolas something bird-named, but I really wantd somethinig that looks harmless, and the moment you mess with, you're in for a lot of pain

And this plant baby delivers

I've never had the misfortune of meeting it, but I haver heard the stories

For those who don't know: Contanct wiht the plant gives you a nasty rash, sometimes with some blisters

Interestingly, looking it up on wikipedia, there's even what would happen if you smoked or eaten it....

As if you'd wanna do that after getting a rash just touching that thing

(You skin is pretty much reacting to the oil on the leaves, so after you come to contact make sure to wash it off or you'll spread it on other things too)

༺☆༻

Hypoestes

I can only talk about this moody beauty from experience since there isn't much info online

From what I've found there's about 150 scpecies in this family

Doesn't require much sunlight, but needs water

And oh boy, the amount of water...

The reason why I picked this plant for Amon is how easy it is for the leaves to start drooping

Just like him being constantly tired

But oh boy, the drooping... One minute she looks good and then two minutes later she's on the verge of death

It's not good to have planters just sitting in water bc of the risk of mold, but this one might just need it

༺☆༻

Common Ivy - Hedera Helix

Originally I wanted to go again with a plant based off his animal form, but then while writing for Amon, I saw normal Ivy

The ultimate Dark Academia plant that looks so good growing around anything

It's perfect for a demon they sometimes call Class President

I really love Common Ivy bc of how much you can use her for

Amazing use for Ivy is putting her into floral arrangements and the amazing thing is that it'll mostly keep its color as long as it's not left out in the rain or your glue gun set on too high temperature

Fun fact: The leaves of the plant are different on normal branches from the branches with a flower

#what in hell is bad #what in “hell” is bad?#whb beelzebub #whb bael #whb stolas #whb naberius #whb amon #I just need to make it through a year or so of accounting studies and then I can apply to study botany at a college ^^

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tomorrowxtogether · 2 days ago

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SOOBIN: “I thought I should just try to shine as I am.”

TOMORROW X TOGETHER The Star Chapter: SANCTUARY comeback interview

2024.11.11

He once strived to become a lush, towering forest. But he realized that people will love him for exactly what he is—a deep, rolling ocean. And so, he decided to remain as whom he always has been: an ocean named SOOBIN.

You took a trip to Vietnam earlier this year with BEOMGYU. I heard you planned the whole thing. SOOBIN: I’m usually the kind of person who just goes around without a real plan, but since we don’t get much vacation time, I figured we’d better go all out and do everything we could in one go, so I tried planning it all out. (laughs) BEOMGYU just wanted to go with the flow, but there was a ton of stuff I wanted to do.

I’m sure it’s not easy taking a trip or spending your off time with the same people you spend all your time with. SOOBIN: I hang out a lot with the rest of the group on my own time too, though. Three of us were all hanging out together just yesterday. To be perfectly honest, it doesn’t feel like anything special since we’re always together 365 days a year, but I’m also most comfortable around them for the same reason.

Sometimes people start bickering with each other when they get too comfortable with one another, but you’re always so kind—like how you gifted BEOMGYU with a nap in that “The Perfect Way to Rest” video when you remembered he was feeling tired. SOOBIN: I think I’m good at picking up on things. I don’t know if I can do it with everyone, but at least with the other members of the group, I’m pretty good at telling how they’re feeling or if they’re not feeling well. As soon as I see one of them, I can tell, Oh, he looks a little rough today, or, He’s sure in a good mood today. (laughs) If they seem down, I go over to them to find out what’s wrong and talk it over.

Your kindness also comes across when you’re with animals, like in the “OUR TOMORROW” video, where you took care of one dog who was so nervous that it didn’t get a chance to eat any treats. Have you always been drawn to people and creatures that are small and left out? SOOBIN: So, so much. In fact, I was really shy and struggled to fit in when I was a trainee. I was really lonely at first. So when time passed and I finally got accustomed to things, if I saw another trainee who was shy and couldn’t adjust, I felt like looking out for them. Kai was among them. (laughs) That’s how I ended up becoming really close with him.

You talked about the cat your sister adopted recently, explaining how it used to be shy because it had a hard life in the past but that it finally opened up this year. SOOBIN: I went to see the cat when my sister first got it, but I couldn’t even see it that first time—it just hid under the couch. It was so shy that I thought I’d never get to pet it, but the last time I saw it, it came right up to me and started purring, wanting to be petted. It was able to overcome its painful past and open up to my family thanks to all the love they show looking after it. Love really does have the power to change anything. (laughs)

You also said on weverse LIVE recently that you made a new friend who you can talk about dramas, movies, and books with. SOOBIN: For me, dramas and movies don’t end with watching them—after you’re done watching, that’s when things are just getting started. I always look up reviews and analyses online. People can watch the same thing and they’ll all have their own thoughts on it, so I’m curious about all those different views, and now I have someone to talk about that with. They know a lot more about books and movies than I do, so I end up learning a lot when we’re sharing our thoughts together. Just having a friend to share my interests with is really fun.

You mentioned talking about Inside Out 2, and you looked at how it features a place to store things you’ve heard that you want to keep for a long time, which got you thinking about what sort of things you would want to hold onto. SOOBIN: I kept recalling things my friends say after we hang out—things like, “SOOBIN, I’m so happy we’re friends,” and, “I feel great whenever I’m with you.” Hearing things like that really touches my heart. Seriously, how often do you get to hear things like that in life? I used to find expressing things like that awkward and weird, but thanks to my friends, I’m getting used to saying I love and appreciate people. You empathized with how Anxiety works harder and feels more anxious than others because they want to be good at things. Are there things you feel you should work harder at than other people? SOOBIN: I’m actually slower at learning choreography compared to the other members. I assumed I’d get a lot better after debuting and regularly performing onstage, but progress was slower than I expected. I didn’t say anything about this before, and I even kept it a secret from the other members, but I actually got separate choreo lessons on the side when we were doing “Chasing That Feeling” and “Deja Vu.” We’d take lessons as a group, and then once I was alone I’d always spend about an hour dancing and working on the little details. I tried so hard with those two most recent songs that I even practiced on my own like that. Seeing as I’m slow, I have to work harder to keep up with the other members. If I have more time, I want to practice more for this comeback, too.

With all the touring you’ve done and the encore performances you have coming up, it must’ve been really hectic getting ready for your Star Chapter: SANCTUARY comeback. SOOBIN: The schedule was really tight this time around—we even had to record vocals in Japan in the middle of the tour since we were in and out of the country—but now that we’re in our sixth year, the five of us were all really fast about things. I could sense that we had grown compared to before since we were faster at recording than we could’ve expected to be in the past and it took us less time to work out the details of the choreography.

The album’s subtitle, SANCTUARY, is a word that’s appeared in TOMORROW X TOGETHER albums before. What’s been your sanctuary these days? SOOBIN: I never used to have a sanctuary, which made getting through tough times hard, but I do now: simple things like working out or reading. It feels like the things that break me away from overthinking and let me immerse myself in something else are my sanctuary.

You were complimented on your previous promotions for your improved vocals and high notes. What about on this album? SOOBIN: Actually, every other album we’ve done had a song in a genre I wasn’t confident in, but not this time. The single “Over The Moon” is really laid-back, and I felt like it was perfect timing for us to try out a song like that. What’s unfortunate is that I caught this horrendous cold during recording. We started practicing for live performances recently, and the director said, “SOOBIN’s singing better than he did when recording. He makes it sound effortless.” So I couldn’t help but think about how much better I could’ve done if only my throat had been in better shape.

You always focus a lot on lyrics. Were there any on this album that have stuck with you in particular? SOOBIN: This album isn’t so much about telling some big, sweeping story as it is about everything we’ve been through together. Now that we’ve been through all that chaos, it’s about the universal emotion of love, which everyone can relate to, and I liked that about it. There’s a line in “Higher Than Heaven” that sticks with me that goes, “I think I kinda get what forever means now.” I even once said, “I never used to believe in the word ‘forever,’ but I think I can now, thanks to our fans.” I didn’t write that part, but it’s like it was written to perfectly capture my feelings.

The other members have probably had an impact on your belief in the word “forever,” too. SOOBIN: I’m pretty sure we’re going to grow old together and that we’ll be together till the day I die. We do the same thing and basically live the same life day in and day out, so we know what makes each other cry the most during concerts, too. Whether it’s my tears of happiness or BEOMGYU’s tears of disappointment from a leg injury, having friends to understand and share those feelings with is nice. They’re all just really kind people—calm and clear, like a stream. None of us is domineering or splashing around, disturbing the peace, and nobody’s dirtying the water, so I think we’ll be able to stick together for a long, long time.

You said before that you had found being onstage tough while touring. Now that you’ve already wrapped up your third world tour, do you still find that to be the case? SOOBIN: I think I’m getting better over time. I still can’t say that I completely enjoy myself, but the worries I used to have before going onstage have gone away entirely. There used to be times where I found it hard to watch myself onstage because I didn’t like how I looked, but now I see myself up there and I think I look cool. (laughs)

The way you have a different outfit on for every sound check when you’re on tour is definitely cool. SOOBIN: For fans who come even though they’re busy, showing up hours before the concert just to wait, doing it purely out of love, I wanted to be more stylish, so I bought a lot of clothes just for sound checks. The glasses-plus-cardigan combo was something I bought in advance for summer, and the reaction from the audience was amazing! They showed me on the big screen and MOA was screaming their lungs out—like, not the usual “wow,” but, “aah!” Like shock and awe. (laughs) I was worried I went overboard with the look, but they showed they liked it, so I was happy.

There’s no way not to bring up your cover of the Choi Yu Ree song “Forest” when talking about you. You said that the people around you are like tall trees in a forest and that you thought you’re one of them, but that you figured out you’re actually more like the ocean. SOOBIN: It’s easy to find people around me who are better looking and sing and dance better than I do. I actually started thinking about that at Lollapalooza. The other members looked so happy and like they were having so much fun onstage, but I couldn’t. I felt eaten up inside seeing myself not being able to fully enjoy it because of all the pressure. Then I heard Choi Yu Ree explaining that “Forest” is about feeling like you’re not good enough and I thought, “Ah, so that’s what I’ve been going through.” I started to understand my emotions a little bit better. Everyone ends up comparing themselves to others at some point in their lives—it’s unavoidable. And they have times where all they can see are the things they hate about themselves, but it’s ridiculous. I was overflowing with negative feelings when I was working on my “Forest” cover, and I wanted to sort of deal with those feelings and express them.

The music video echoes your thoughts that someday you’ll come to shore and become one with the forest. What does the forest mean to you? SOOBIN: Just being a singer who’s good at singing and dancing, interacting with my fans, enjoying performing, and being able to do it all with complete sincerity. I think I was showing how the forest to me means being happy with the other members when they’re happy. Nothing big—just simple things I’m not always that good at.

Do you feel more like a forest now that some time has gone by? SOOBIN: Umm … I saw a ton of comments from fans after I covered “Forest.” My mindset when I was doing it was, Right now I’m like the ocean, but I’ll become a part of the forest just like you guys—so wait for me until then. But once I saw what fans were writing, I changed my mind and thought, Do I really need to become a part of the forest? I could be similar to the forest, but I don’t have to change myself to be one. My fans kept saying, “The whole reason we liked you in the first place is because you’re like the ocean, not because we hoped you’d become like a forest. If that were the case, we’d like somebody else. Why do you think it was you?” The ocean comes with its own perks, you know. You need to have some ocean near a forest to add to the scenery and have more things to do. Now I think maybe I tried too hard to fit in by trying to be like the forest. Now I feel like I can shine bright just by being myself.

That lines up with what you recently said in an interview you did in Japan when you said that your 20s, the best and most energetic time of life, are dazzling and fun thanks to knowing MOA. What do you think you’ll see when you look back on this youthful period of your 20s? SOOBIN: Joy. Every moment of our lives is packed with good times and bad times, joy and sorrow, but in the end, I think, I’m on a path towards joy. Even things that are so agonizing that you want to die—so bad you feel like the whole world is against you, and so bad you’re certain they’re weighing on you forever, eventually pass.

Doesn’t it almost feel funny sometimes, looking back after all that? (laughs) SOOBIN: Yes. It ends up feeling so trivial somehow. Things that felt massive at the time are like a speck in the distance once you get even a little space between them and yourself. Even after all the hardship I went through being a trainee, I can look back now and see there were a lot of good times. Maybe we tend to romanticize the past a bit? (laughs) Even some of the stuff I’m going through now can be tough, to be honest, but I’m never going to give up. There’s still so much I want to give. The amount of joy I derive from doing this is way higher than the amount of difficulty. I think my life’s amazing, even right now.

So amazing. (laughs) SOOBIN: I think so too! (laughs) As time goes on and I get older, when I look back on my youth, my time with TOMORROW X TOGETHER, I wonder if it’ll look that much more shiny and amazing. Maybe I’ll feel I was even cooler at this time than I feel I am now.

#txt #tomorrow x together #241111 #weverse #soobin #choi soobin #weverse magazine #the star chapter #sanctuary

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myslutwritings · 2 days ago

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I RLLY LOVE UR BLOG OMG 😭💗💗 IF U CAN, CAN I PLEASE REQUEST A THING WITH THE FIRST 3 UPPER MOONS WHERE WHERE READER ACCIDENTALLY CUTS THEIR LONG HAIR TOO SHORT AND REGRETS IT? I HAD THE SAME SITUATION BEFORE 😭😭

Aww, thanks honey! and of course! 🖤

➤ The 3 Uppermoons reaction to your haircut

featuring: Kokushibo [uppermoon 1], Douma [uppermoon 2], Akaza [uppermoon 3]

— A/N: sorry for being gone for so long (again) i tend to disappear and reappear whenever i please. 😂💀

(not proof read btw!!)

KOKUSHIBO

let’s start off by saying that before you even pick up those damn scissors to cut off those voluptuous locks he is IMMEDIATELY stopping you.

Is he doing this because this is his special way of throwing a silent tantrum over the fact you’re cutting your hair and he’s one of those guys who likes people with short hair? NO!

Is he doing this because he’s very observant and knows you’ll fuck it up and then regret it afterwards? YES!

Do you listen to him?

…

No :)

SOOOO you end up cutting your hair.. and.. let’s say it’s a total DISASTER AFTERWARDS.

Horrible would be an understatement!

(at least to you.)

You’re flipping your shit at this point and Koku is just looking at you with a “i told you so” look.

But hey! it’s okay! he still thinks your beautiful no matter what even with shorter hair. He doesn’t care about that and only loves you for you.

You could be bald and this man would still love you to bits!

Kokushibo actually finds it silly that you think he’d care so much about your physically appearance.

He finds you freaking out over it very endearing and now you have to admit you should’ve listened to him since he was right about you ‘fucking up’ your hair.

DOUMA

“Oh my! what happened?!”

Quite literally Douma’s exact words!

He just returned back to his temple from a mission to find a pair of old scissors in your hand and hair stands all over the floor.

Oh, so messy! He isn’t too fond of messes..

But, you know, since it’s YOU, so he’ll let it slide!

Questions what in muzans name you were doing.

Let’s pretend muzan is an expression because it’s funny.

Much like Kokushibo he’ll find it amusing how distraught you are over something so little!

It’s just hair.. why do you care so much?

He still finds you beautiful! not the best at validating your feelings though because he thinks you being legitimately upset over this is stupid.

Always found you being upset by the tiniest of things so dumb but also fascinating.

Douma doesn’t feel anything (so he claims..)

So therefore you feeling so strongly compared to him keeps it entertaining.

But he finds himself feeling somewhat sorry and comforting you in the end..

Strange.

Reassures you that your hair will look great long, medium length or short. he adores every part of you!

AKAZA

Akaza actually likes your hair short!

Not even like.. HE LOVES IT!

Digs it. i’ll tell you!

I feel like he’d like women/men with shorter/medium-length hair.

(Of course he is still attracted to you regardless of your hair style)

Since you’re dating a demon obsessed with fighting..

He actually teaches you how to defend yourself (so that when he isn’t around you’ll be able to fend for yourself)

And fighting with short hair is wayyyy easier! it doesn’t get in the way when you’re training.

Whenever Akaza would train you, you’d always have to put up your hair.

It sorta irritated him because why not just cut it? Or trim it?

Until you finally go through with it..

Shit turned into a whole fiasco. ☠️

You’re upset over it but he convinces you to look on the bright side. attempting to make you focus on the positive aspects rather the negative.

“You’re still so beautiful! Don’t be upset over your hair. it’ll grow back.”

You miss your long hair and regret cutting it and you know it’ll grow back but you can’t help but feel salty.

At least it doesn’t get in the way when Akaza trains you anymore so that’s a bonus.

#demon slayer #kimestsu no yaiba #kny #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #demon slayer headers #kokushibo #douma #akaza #kokushibo x reader #douma x reader #akaza x reader #kokushibo headcanons #douma headcanons #akaza headcanons #uppermoons x reader #uppermoon headcanons

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ask-lps-staff-au · 2 days ago

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Russell: To deepen the bond we have with our customers *cough cough* and to get our sales up *cough cough* we created this blog for you all to get in touch with us. Today, I’m going to introduce the rest of the staff here so you know who to address your questions to. Starting with-

Vinnie: ME ME ME!!!!

Russell: Yes, Vinnie, You.

Russell: What you do.

Vinnie: Ohhh! I like to dance :)

Russell: No, what is your job?

Vinnie: Man, you should’ve just said that! My job is… well I lift heavy things sometimes? Like dog food and kitty litter. That kinda thing. Mostly just chill, though. That good?

Russell: You know what? Yes. That’s perfect, Vinnie

Vinnie: Sweet.

Russell: Minka, sorry to cut you short but can we have your name and job please?

Minka: I was just getting to that part! Anyways, my name’s Minka Mark, and I’m the cashier here, you hear?

Russell: Loud and clear, Minka.

Russell: They aren’t lines, just say it how you normally would!

Vinnie: Yeah, you just gotta say it Zoe-ey!

Zoe: Zoe-ey? Oh, that’s it!

Zoe: *singing* Yeahh Yeaaahhh~ The name’s Zoe~ And now you know-y~

Zoe: *back to talking* Oh, yeah. I’m in charge of grooming the pets.

Russell: Ohhh-kay. Let’s move on.

Pepper: Serious as I can be. Number 1: what has four legs in the morning, two legs in the afternoon, and three legs at night?

Russell: A man.

Pepper: Correctomundo, but are you ready for riddle number 2? What gets wetter the more it dries?

Russell: A towel. Are you just reading off a list of the top ten most basic riddles or what?

Pepper: I’ll answer that but you’ll have to answer three more riddles. Last one: the man who invented it doe-

Minka: HER NAME IS PEPPER CLARK AND SHE TAKES CARE OF THE DAYCARE PETS!!!

Pepper: Dangit.

Russell: Thank you, Minka.

Russell: Probably like 10 people at most.

Vinnie: But, hey! You never know if the algorithm could pick it up! You could be talking to millions of people right now!

Sunil: Millions?! Eek!

Russell: *sigh* That’s Sunil. Talk to him if you ever need help finding anything. I promise he’s more helpful than he looks right now.

Russell: … that’s it?

Penny: Was there supposed to be more?

Russell: No, this is just the smoothest interview I’ve had all day. I’m kinda shocked.

Penny: Well, I’m glad I did good.

Russell: Yep.

Both: …

Blythe: Ruff ruff!

Russell: Oh, yeah, that’s right! Don’t forget to check out Blythe-Style pet clothes which you can find on the racks in the front of the store (which are made by a different Blythe and not this Blythe. A human Blythe. Obviously because why would a dog make clothes!! That’s absurd!!! Almost as crazy as a group of people who can understand ANIMALS hahahaha!!!)

Russell: Those questions aren’t- Whatever. Ask us anything, I guess.

---

Hello, and welcome to the ((very much unofficial))* Littlest Pet Shop page! Please drop any questions you have for us in our inbox - Best, R. Ferguson

*((this is in no way related to or authorized by hasbro or the Littlest Pet Shop brand. This is a fan project fully made for entertainment purposes. I make no profit from this.))

((Hello!!!! Double parentheses mean that I, the person who runs this blog aka @octodrawn, am speaking. I wanted to give you a couple guidelines before you submit anything. If you’re interested, please click read more!

I want to start this off by saying I am a human person with responsibilities, boundaries and a lack of free time so it may take a while to answer your ask. I also have the right to not answer every ask I receive.

We are keeping things generally PG/PG-13 here, so that means Minimal swearing, no violence, Minimal references to drug use, nothing sexual except for maybe the occasional ‘I did your mom last night’ type jokes because they are funny to me.

This is primarily an art ask blog, but I will only use text for posts on occasion.

I’m not gonna put a cap on ‘what do you think of __ x __’ questions for now, but if they become a majority of questions asked, then I will. Currently, no ships are canon in this AU, so don’t expect any answers to say anything differently.

Don’t take the setup of this blog being diegetic too seriously. If you want to send something that’s like *gives them all cookies* or *transforms them into turtles* I won’t stop you.

Have fun and be yourself :-)

Please keep this in mind before asking anything. This is all for fun, so please don’t take this too seriously.

I’ll be making a tag list soon but feel free to send asks now :3))

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louisferrignojr · 2 days ago

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[also on ao3]

Whoever said 3rd time’s the charm was fucking lying because this one has been the worst of them all and he downed three glasses of overpriced wine during those torturous two and a half hours before he was able to make a semi-graceful exit the fuck out of the restaurant.

He’s half-sober by the time he gets home and he strips and falls face-first onto the bed and he pulls up the conversation thread, Tommy’s name and a little heart emoji next to it that he can’t bring himself to remove. He starts reading through their conversation and God, he misses him so fucking much, the flirty texts and semi-nudes they’d exchanged only days before the break up are not helping right now and before he knows it he’s got a hand around himself and he’s listening to the dial tone and not before long Tommy picks up.

“Evan?”

“You were so wrong,” Buck says in a breathless whisper, “You were so wrong, Tommy, I fucking hate dating.” He squeezes his eyes shut and pictures Tommy’s face as he’s listening to Buck jerking off on the phone; there’s no way Tommy can’t tell what he’s doing right now, they’ve done this so many times, Tommy knows what he sounds like.

“Evan.” Tommy says and his voice has changed, taking on that deeper pitch that Buck knows so well.

“It sucks so much,” Buck continues stroking himself in quick, frantic movements. He tucks the phone between his cheek and his shoulder and sucks his fingers in his mouth, making sure Tommy can hear the way he licks them as he coats them in his spit.

“Evan, what are you doing?”

A laugh is startled out of him, bitter and humourless. “Missing you,” he says and tries to reach between his legs but the phone slips out of its place when he bends as he tries to push his fingers in, the angle is a little awkward and he sighs and flops back on the mattress, frustrated. He switches hands and picks up the phone. “I miss you so much, Tommy, what the fuck, I don’t want anyone else, Tommy, please, I just want you.”

There’s a long moment of silence and Tommy’s breathing heavily down the line, and Buck can’t help but feel a little gleeful, a little smug about the effect he’s having on Tommy with just a phone call.

“You want me or my dick?” Tommy asks, and Buck can picture the way he’s smirking, and he hates how much he loves Tommy’s twisted sense of humour.

Buck growls in response, his grip around his leaking cock tightening. “All of you, you asshole. Come over.”

“I’m on my way,” Tommy says, the sound of his keys jingling as he picks them up off the hook near the front door. “Don’t come until I get there.”

Buck’s face splits into a grin. He slows down to a leisurely pace, just enough to keep himself on the edge until Tommy gets here.

“Okay.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

buck after 3 failed first dates: this sucks i wanna meet someone the traditional way [we steal an LAFD helicopter and fly into a hurricane to save people from a capsized cruise ship]

#bucktommy #my writing #me: sits down to do life admin #also me: writes phone sex #whatever

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gremlinmodetweeker · 2 days ago

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Sweet Like Honeysuckles, Bloody Like Venison

So I have not written something for the past two weeks because I have been in a bad mood (tm) because of the weather changing. I admit, it's hard to stay on top of things. However, I can't stop myself from writing more cannibal king!König. I love him so much. I also like reader more and more as they accept the lifestyle of the cannibal colony. They're actually pretty sick, you know.

TWs: mentions of cannibalism, nudity

Wordcount: 3.2k

Art from This Post

Story Below the Cut

Sweet Like Honeysuckles, Bloody Like Venison

A deer passed through the clearing ahead of you. Her head was held high up to admire the sunlight filtering through the coniferous trees with a regality that betrayed her splendor. Her tan coat twitched in the cool misty dawn, the only sign that she was a creature of this forest as much as you were.

König sat beside you and looked out. His eyes wandered beyond the deer to the trees beyond, through them to the figures that stood across from you.

The five men wore basic skins, their tanned skin painted white with glowing pigments. The tallest among them was red as a newborn, his face pudgy and soft. His thick fingers curled around the club in his hand nervously.

König called out to the men calmly, spooking away the deer. If you didn’t feel his arm tighten around your shoulders, you might have thought he was warmly greeting them. As it was, whatever he said was as crisp and cool as the forest fog.

The big red man shouted back warily. He rose his club meekly, but as soon as König straightened his spine the club was lowered and tucked behind his bare body. König snuffed and stomped his foot. He let out a feral snarl and the men of the forest scrambled back into the dark undergrowth, leaping like the deer that left before.When he turned back to you, the hardened look in his eyes washed away to some incommunicable sadness.

He touched where your heart lay in your chest and whispered your name.

“König?” you asked warily, “who were those men?”

He looked back to where the men once stood and snarled at the ghosts they left behind. He shook his head, but you noticed he touched the club that hung at his side. He tapped the handle, then pointed back across the clearing. He turned back to you and shook his head ominously.

Enemies.

“Why were they here?” you asked as you followed König back through the forest.

König shrugged as he knelt beside a small trap. He raised the woven twig box to look underneath. He sighed, set it back upright and turned back to you and pointed at you and then back at his chest.

“Safe,” he grunted as he ruffled your hair.

“Are you sure?” you stepped closer to his bare chest.

He nodded before giving you a brief one-handed hug, “Safe.”

He pulled back and led you through the forests again. You followed him obediently. You knew that in any other situation, you would’ve taken König’s turned back as a chance to run and escape this madman and his wicked ways, but he was your only chance of surviving on this rock. If you were lucky you’d be rescued one day, but the odds of surviving this hell grew slimmer with each passing day. The seasons passed by so quickly that you couldn’t keep track of time. Again you thought of those soldiers that had been sent to reconnaissance the island with you. They had a better chance of survival than you did, but you still wondered if they were still fighting out there, or if they had been struck down by a different band of cannibals.

Your current band of cannibals, the one that König had kidnapped you into, were a surprisingly comfortable group to share the company of. As you lived with them, their noisy grunts and feral snuffling began to form patterns. Those patterns were slowly decoded, and you could pick out bits and pieces of words if you strained your ears. You couldn’t speak to your captors, but you were slowly starting to understand them. Of course, you’d learned from König that they understood you perfectly well. All your cursing and crying and screaming and shouting, they’d bore witness to it all. They had listened to you curse them and their ways all the way up to Heaven and then down to Hell, but they still showed you what primitive kindness they could.

The woman who’d brushed your hair before had soon become a close friend. She was the one member of the tribe (other than König, of course) who you’d really started to understand. She was a gentle soul with you. After a brief discourse with König, she’d slowly come to teaching you some of their language.

She taught you the word for hair, and then the word for flower. You learned the words for wood and axe soon after. She noticed your interest in some of her herbs, and she carefully taught you the names of each one in turn. She tried to explain which ones were used for what, but she soon lost you. Instead of disappointment, she instead gently rested a frail hand on your shoulder and gave you a thin smile. There was no irritation, only a fiery determination to keep going. You matched her fervor and strived forward.

She watched as König would drop you off with her every other day. After the claiming in front of the tribe, she’d watched you and him more carefully. She noticed things you didn’t, and she taught you in turn. She taught you what berries he liked to eat the most, which parts of the rabbit he liked roasted over the fire. She taught you, in a way, how to be a woman in this world.

Being a woman in a cannibal tribe turned out to be harder work than expected. While the men went to hunt, wage war and gather wood and stone, the women worked closer to home. They worked the small farms, they skinned and tanned the meats. Here, a woman was expected to work the land and provide for her family. However, as you soon learned from König, men were equally expected to work.

König was the chief of his band and he acted every part of it. He spoke to the women to mediate disputes and he comforted the men as their bones were set by the shaman. He hunted, he cooked, he managed trades and he protected borders. He worked with every member of his tribe and watched over them personally. He was an honorable leader in that sense. You watched as children climbed his back to try and take him down with laughter and delight. He lifted them up and, even from a distance, you could see the sheer joy in his eyes under that golden mask of his. In a way, he was a crucial part of every family. He was the father, the mother, the wife, the husband. He was the teacher, the shaman, the diplomat and the judge and, as needed, the executioner. He was with everyone through thick and through thin.

And then, he’d come home to you.

Ever since he’d claimed you in front of his kin, he’d become more intimate with you. Carefully, gently, he’d taken you into his arms and held you at night. When he tired from the strenuous days, he’d rest his head on your chest and groan as you worked the knots from his back. The great cannibal king that kidnapped you and lorded over you became naught much more than a tired dog when he came back to your arms. You watched over your king, worshiped him with oils and herbs that had been gifted to you by the one eyed crone with a wink and a wry laugh. Your king had taught you how to use them on his skin by practicing on you.

You’d been tired after working all day. You were exhausted by the long day of foraging and hunting and when you’d come back to his cabin you’d nearly collapsed at his feet. That was when he rolled you onto your stomach and taken the tinctures from their clay jars. At first, you’d been frightened when he straddled your back, but soon you realized that he was more interested in caring for you than caring for himself. He’d been gentle that night, every so gentle. He whispered soft words into your ears, and that was when you learned the words for gratitude and praise.

You thought of that night as you walked behind König through the woods. In your oblivious state you’d failed to notice when he’d taken two rabbits from the traps and slung them around his belt. You looked around you and stalled.

König turned back to look at you as soon as he felt you drop behind him. He stalked back up to you and snuffed.

“König,” you asked nervously, “where are we?”

König chuffed and took your elbow in one of his hands and lightly tugged you along.

You briefly resisted before sighing and giving in. You let him drag you along, grateful that he slowed hsi stride to accommodate for you. You felt almost like one of the children in his grasp, what with how he guided you firmly and surely through the woods.

The trees parted and you stumbled out across a rocky stream.

You looked at König as he put his belongs onto a rock and turned back to you. He nodded towards the stream and crossed his arms over his hairy chest.

You looked at the stream and back at him, bewildered by his insinuations.

“You want me to take a bath?” you asked.

König nodded firmly.

You looked at the clear water running across the smooth river stones. Some lush green weeds waved through the current with a shoal of fish fry. You stepped closer to the bubbling water, peering down into the depths. The water was so clear that you could see all the way to the bottom. Each pebble shone like a gem against the muddy bottom.

You turned back to König to say something and immediately turned back. You hadn’t seen much, but of what you did see it was enough to make you blush furiously. You felt hands trail under the hems of your shirt and skirted away with a squeak.

“König!” you scolded him furiously, determined to keep your eyes above his shoulders.

König grunted and nodded again at the river. This time, the message was too blatant to pretend to ignore.

You shivered as you pulled your shirt up above your head, followed quickly by your tactical pants and then your underwear. It was mostly ruined by now, but without it you felt more vulnerable than ever before. You shivered in the cold and looked down at the river. You turned back at König and looked at the golden mask on his face. You scoffed.

“So I have to take everything off and you can keep your mask?” you snarked.

König paused, then nodded begrudgingly. Your eyes widened as he walked back over to where he hung his loincloth and grabbed at the black hood. Your lips parted as his big hands gripped the fabric in a punishing grip. A part of you felt like you should look away. As König had bared you to the world, so too did you bare him. He brought the fabric up slowly, then pulled his head free and out from the wretched thing.

His head was nearly bald, just like all the other cannibals. However, unlike the others, you could see the big mars of scars over his neck and up the back of his head. They crossed over his left ear, making it naught much more than a stub of fleshy scar tissue. If you hadn’t seen him in action, you’d have thought he might be deaf out of the one ear.

He turned slowly, almost as though he was afraid of what you’d think. Maybe he was right to be afraid. You shivered and sniffed in the cold, then took him in for the first time fully.

Were you to meet this man in any other circumstance, his face could really only be described at best as possibly above average. He had a light dusting of blond stubble over his round chin. His aurochs neck was thick with ropes of muscle, a stark contrast to his soft lips and crooked roman nose. His eyes, fully bared to the world now, were soft and sad. He looked less like a powerful chief and more like a timid man, forced to bear a title he never wanted. He looked vulnerable, afraid, human. He was no longer the conquering cannibal king; he was a man underneath all his dressings and scars.

You stepped forth carefully, stumbling a bit over the stones before catching yourself. You could see König’s small mouth quirk up to the side. You huffed, but continued up to him.

In front of him you had to crane your head back to admire his visage. You reached up to touch him and he leant his face down to be embraced. He curled himself like an inchworm, bending himself in half to be able to take your small affections. He closed his innocent eyes and you mapped your fingers across his marred skin. Burn marks, hatchet cuts, spear wounds, they all pockmarked his skin. You traced a white line across the side of his neck. How he survived such a wound was a miracle. He opened his eyes at that, life sparking behind them with an electric intensity. You traced your thumbs across his lips reverently. He let you, but when you leaned in to kiss him he pushed you back softly.

You stumbled as you were pushed. You looked up to him, aghast. You felt mortified. Had he really just rejected your advances? He’d kidnapped you, he’d taken you into his cabin and massaged your body, he’d mounted you in front of his entire tribe, and he rejected you? You could hardly wrap your head around it.

König pointed to the water and grunted. You followed his hand, then turned back to him. He smirked as he tapped his lips, then pointed back at the water.

So that’s how it would be.

You sulked over to the river bank and peered into the water. The water was deceptively deep. You’d only make it a couple of strides in before it sloped down.

You squeaked when you put a pinky toe in. It was cold, terribly cold. You already hated it. This felt absolutely awful. You already wanted to go and put your clothes on and sulk underneath a tree. You turned to shoot König a bitter scowl before finally letting yourself step into the water.

It was terribly cold, but it was bearable. You knew how this worked, as long as you kept going the water would eventually get warmer. You stepped further and further into the water before you got to the edge of the slope. With a deep breath, you fell into the water.

Ice cold water encompassed you entirely. You pushed to the center of the riverbed and came up for air. The water wasn’t cold enough to get frostbite, but you damn well felt like you would. You cursed and spluttered to yourself, not taking notice of König dipping into the water behind you.

König chuckled as he stood beside you. He dunked his head under the water briefly and rubbed at his scalp before coming back up for air. He looked at your shivering form and rolled his eyes. You huffed, but followed his lead to wash the water through your hair.

Weeks of grease floated away down the stream. Despite the cold, you felt like you were shedding layers of grime into the current. You’d never felt so fresh before. The water was still unpleasant, but if nothing else you were getting accustomed to it.

König focussed on cleaning his body, something you never knew you’d take so much interest in. You watched him lave water over his face and back, cleaning away dirt marks that had built up. You realized that König must have been coming out here often since you’d been brought back to his cabin. In fact, you must have been downright filthy compared to him. How he’d been able to tolerate hugging you close every night, you’d never know. If nothing else, it was another tally for him being a rather benevolent kidnapper at least. At the very least.

König turned back to you and stepped closer. He gently moved in closer, closer and closer still until he had his front pressed up against yours. Were he not a beacon of warmth you might have pushed him away, but as it was he was the only thing standing between you and freezing to death out there. Or, well, you figured you might, but if König had been coming here for so long, it mustn’t be quite as bad as you made it out to be. Maybe you were just too accustomed to the steaming hot showers you had back home.

König sighed as he let himself bend over you. You, for your part, took your arms out and embraced him, rubbing his back and humming under your breath as you took in his company. He was more than happy to let you rub concentric circles along his spine.

König grumbled something and begrudgingly stepped back. You lamented the warmth before you realized what he’d pulled back to do and turned away to give him some semblance of privacy. You turned your focus onto yourself and focussed on scrubbing away the dirt from your body. Once you finished, you peaked around yourself to look at König and check if he was finished with cleaning himself yet.

To your relief, he was already striding to shore. He tossed you a glance over his shoulder expectantly. When you followed him out, he pulled a couple of woven mats from his bag and offered one to you. You were quick to take it, but when you went to get your clothes back König was quick to hold you back. Instead, he offered you a pair of simple robes. They were slightly too big, they smelled of leather and animal, but the fur was terribly soft and warm on your body. You were shocked to realize that it was a full-length robe, much like that of some of the other cannibal women. What amazed you was the amount of neatly woven embroidery along the hems of the garment. It was simple rope made of basic materials, but it had been dyed vibrant colours and woven in intrinsic patterns. You looked back at König, who was still standing bare in front of you, the makeshift towel slung around the back of his neck.

You focussed on his face, upon which a contented smile sat. He gave you an affirming nod and took one hand to ruffle your damp hair before leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. You looked up at him briefly.

You stared at each other for a moment. He bent down slowly and let his hand fall from the top of your head to your cheek, stroking it lightly with his thumb. He leaned in close ever so slowly and you responded in turn.

Your lips met, and you almost immediately pulled back. The shock wore off quickly, and you leaned back in again for another. His lips were rough and chapped, his breath was poor, and yet it couldn’t have been sweeter. It reminded you of honeysuckle nectar and blueberries growing among the forest floor. When König pulled back, his smile was bright and innocent, boyish even. You were shocked by a thought that passed through your mind; he was the most handsome man you’d ever seen.

Konig Dump

Alternate Universes

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