#i get to talk about the ship i will die over all the time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

megamindsecretlair · 8 days

Note

So um I’m kinda obsessed with Aaron and that fic you just wrote kinda makes me feel like I’m going through withdrawals😂😂….. so um are we gonna get the part where he eats her like a full meal cause um yea (Love your writing btw❤️)

A/N: Not with that dynamic, anon, but how about this one??

Let Me Take Control

Pairing: Toxic!Neighbor!Terry Richmond x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (female receiving), oral (fem receiving), teasing, size kink, dirty talk, degradation kink, praise kink sprinkled in, rough sex, persuasion, reader is able to be picked up, use of n-word, all consensual.

Summary: Your fine as hell neighbor, Terry, hits you up late at night with a text. Already knowing what’s ‘bout to go down, you invite him over and get yourself ready for an unforgettable night.

Word Count: 3,807k

AO3 Link

A/N: MISS HIMMMM. I watched Rebel Ridge for the (mindyabidness) time and I neeeeeeed him! WHEW! Ya'll blew my first fic up, and YALL. Don't make me cry with all your sweet words! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

That Munch: You up?

Your phone chimed and you flipped over in bed, reaching for your phone on your nightstand. You opened the message to see a text from your fine ass neighbor, Terry. You popped up in bed, bouncing with the effort as you turned on the lamp.

Cool light flooded the room, taking mercy on your sleep deprived eyes. You pulled the bonnet off of your head and assessed your hair. It was currently coiled into a bun to keep it neat, but your braids were recent and still fresh. Good, you were gonna need that extra strength.

You bit your lip as you texted back.

You: What’s up?

That Munch: Can’t sleep.

Your heart skipped a beat. Terry said the two magic words that got your blood thumping. Your core heating up to dangerous levels. You hopped out of bed and ran to the bathroom to freshen your breath and relieve yourself.

You washed your hands and looked at yourself in the mirror. Terry’s brain needed to be studied. It was like he knew what you were missing without even having to ask. Or think about it. You were just tossing and turning in bed, sleep eluding you for the hundredth time. You were running through possible solutions when that little chime and those two words fell from the sky like a divine intervention.

You texted back, feeling a little giddy that he was up and willing. You’d been like two ships passing in the fog lately. Always arriving or leaving a touch out of sync with each other. He would just be getting in the elevator when you left your apartment. He was just closing his door when you were emerging from yours.

And once inside, you usually kept contact to a minimum. Tried to put Terry into a box. Firmly in the neighbors with benefits column. He was too fine. Too hot. Too intense to ever be a regular thing. You couldn’t stand it. Looking at that man night and day? Please, you’d die.

You paced the room in your oversized T-shirt and panties, biting your lip as you waited for the short trek through his apartment, out of his door, and the knock on yours. When it came, you skipped to the front door on a bed of nerves. Each footfall felt like lead and each heart beat felt like a stab in your chest.

You opened the door and leaned your head against it. “Hey stranger,” you said, keeping your cool around this man.

You were terrible at it, actually. Terry blinked those pretty electric eyes at you and entered your apartment. You closed the door behind him and locked the door, taking the time to admire his back side. He didn’t wear anything but some long joggers that cupped around his ankles. His ass was well rounded, looking good enough to bite. One side was slightly higher on his calf and for no reason at all, it was the hottest thing ever.

He turned around and his eyes softened. “Were you sleep?” He asked.

His voice alone sent shivers down your spine. On the inside, you were screaming. He was too damn hot to be real. He was like a marble statue made real. He moved with care. Purposeful. You shook your head and with it your thoughts. “You know that ain’t true,” you said.

“Why didn’t you text me?” He asked. He stepped closer, crowding into your space. The door was the only thing holding you up at the moment. He approached, stepping into your personal space. Close enough to feel the heat radiating off of his smooth skin.

You shrugged. “‘Case you were busy. I came home late tonight,” you said.

Terry smirked and tilted his head. “Has that ever stopped us before?” He asked.

You shook your head. Terry bent his head down and kissed your cheek. You gasped, lips parting as he left behind tingles. Your breathing began to hurt your lungs, breathing too fast and too hard. He hadn’t even done anything yet.

“You been tossing and turning when you know I’m right next door? Willing? Eager?” He asked.

You shivered even though he was hot enough to fill the room. You kept your hands down at your sides. If you started touching him now, this would be over before it started. His shoulders were broad, honed, sculpted. His full lips glowed in the low ambient light in your living room.

“Terry,” you said, more of a warning than a plea. This was why you didn’t call him. This was why your brain didn’t even give you that option. It always felt like you were taking advantage, knowing he wanted more and you continued to toy with his feelings.

It wasn’t on purpose. You truly couldn’t decide to take that ride with him or not. If you were ready to be with someone so grown. So in control. You were used to little fuckboys who played in your face. Who were bigger drama queens than you were and that shit didn’t fly.

But Terry? Terry was a different breed. Falling into his lap was almost an accident. You were smart enough to know your limits but dumb enough to toss them right out of the window.

Terry took your hand and led you away from the door. You smiled at him as he moved without light to your bedroom. You supposed each layout of the apartments were about the same, with some variations. Did that mean his room shared a wall with your bathroom? The thought alone had you biting your lip picturing him all glistening wet.

Inside your bedroom, Terry spun you around and pulled you against the nearest wall. He smirked at you and then he leaned down, bringing his lips to yours but not kissing you. You pouted when you caught up and looked at him.

“I missed you too,” he said.

You took a deep breath and laughed. “I didn’t say that,” you said.

“You were thinking it,” he said. He blinked slowly, lips touching but not completely. You couldn’t feel the full weight of them and you leaned forward, trying to close that distance. Terry leaned out of the way at the last minute, making you grunt.

“You want to fall asleep or not?” You asked, sucking your teeth. Trying to hide how turned on you were. How needy. You could feel your slick leaking out of you and you just needed some damn friction.

Terry’s eyes narrowed. His hand slipped around your throat with such ease, you didn’t even feel him moving. “Who you think you talkin’ to like that?” He asked.

You moaned, eyes crossing at the slight pressure. “You got an attitude with me?” He asked.

You tried to shake your head. Ah, shit. It was one of those nights. You moaned even though you shook your head again. You didn’t mean to get him riled up so quickly.

“You sure? You talkin’ real reckless for someone who want they pussy licked, huh?” He asked. He squeezed your neck and you threw your head back, placing a hand on his chest. You couldn’t take it. You were on fire. Licks of flame made its way through your veins.

“I’m sorry!” You moaned.

Terry chuckled and finally kissed you, bringing you forward by his grip on your throat. “You lucky I’m just hungry tonight.”

“Oh fuck,” you moaned.

Terry released your neck and dropped to his knees. He was still tall as hell, so it didn’t really look like he knelt. The look in his eyes at this angle had you sighing. He didn’t have a merciful bone in his body. Even on his knees, looking up to you, he looked defiant. Challenging. Like he wanted you to fight him because he knew that he’d win.

Terry’s big, strong hands came around to cup your ass. He separated your ass cheeks, giving it a full squeeze, before releasing. Your ass jiggled and Terry hummed and kissed your belly.

“When you gon’ stop playing with me?” He asked.

You cupped his cheek and scratched at his beard. He closed his eyes and hummed, a deep rumbling in his chest. Almost like he was purring.

“Not now, Terry,” you said. You were too lost in the sauce. Too lost in the depth of those eyes. Swirls of brown and blue and green, like he contained the world in them. You’d agree to anything right now and he didn’t need to know that.

Terry lifted your shirt, kissing all over your stomach. He left fat, wet kisses on your skin. You ran your nails across his fade, filling the slight ripples. His hair was coarse, feeling like heaven against the palm of your hand. Terry moved lower and pulled your leg over his shoulder.

He pushed your panties to the side, taking a deep breath and moaned. “Smell so fuckin’ good,” he said. His tongue darted out and licked you from entrance to clit. You yelped and collapsed against him, leaning all of your weight on him.

Terry hummed, purred, and placed a hand on your belly and pushed. You fell back against the cold wall, yelping from the shock of it. Terry kept one arm under your leg, supporting your hip from the back. His other flattened across your belly, pushing you against the wall and stabilizing you.

“I was laying in my bed, trynna think of what would make me go to sleep. And then, I started thinking about this pretty pussy,” he said. He began to eat you out and talk through it, dragging his lips. He spoke these words into your pussy like he was writing affirmations into your skin with his tongue.

“About how you get so wet, so quick. My favorite is when you start leaking down your leg,” he said. At the end of the sentence, he sucked on your clit and you cried out, gripping his shoulders and trying to push. He held you down, held you open, while he purred.

“I like knowing you get so needy, you can’t help it. You’d fuck anything nearby, wouldn’t you?” He cooed into your pussy.

Your teeth chattered as he licked and prodded at your entrance, gathering up your essence, and suckling it all down. He moved back up to your clit, playing with the swollen nub with the tip of his tongue. You shivered against him and he moved with you, dodging your attempts to turn to mush in his arms.

“And then I started thinking, hmmm, I need that. I need to bust down that throat. Or maybe save this load for this pussy. She look hungry,” he said, moving his lips between your folds.

“Oh god, oh god,” you moaned. The fire he started went straight to your lower belly, clenching painfully as you neared an orgasm. Why was it so difficult to maintain a cool exterior with this man? In no time at all, he already had you screaming to the heavens. Screaming for any neighbors to hear that he was hand delivering pleasure.

His hand squeezed your ass and you moaned, biting your lip painfully. His lips began smacking, suckling on your clit and releasing it with a loud smack. Your clit throbbed, uselessly clenching around nothing.

“Please, Terry, oh god, please, please,” you begged.

“Keep begging, baby, shit turns me on,” he said, repeatedly suckling your clit.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, finally letting the climax take over. You shook and shivered, flopping against the wall and turning boneless. Terry kept up with your flopping, chuckling evilly as he continued to eat you out while you spasmed on him.

“That’s it. That’s it, beautiful. Let all that shit go,” he whispered into your pussy. You didn’t know how you heard him. Perhaps he was just that good. Just that in control. That deep voice was lower than sin as he whispered against your clit, rolling his tongue.

You looked down at him and his eyes snapped to yours. Eyes soft. Pretty ass eyelashes. He was perfect. Too perfect. Your body stopped flopping and you panted, huffed, as you came down. Terry slowed his tongue against your clit, flattening his tongue against and making you jerk.

His heavy breaths fanned across your pussy and you moaned, writhing against him. “Fuck, Terry,” you said.

Terry kissed your thighs, leaving a trail of wet kisses. He continued up to your belly, lifting your shirt with his head and he came up further. Your leg slid from his shoulder down to his side, and wrapped around his leg as he stood up.

He gripped your chin and pulled you into a kiss. You smelled and tasted yourself on him, your slick on his beard. You moaned, turning the kiss nasty as you played with each other’s tongues.

Terry broke the kiss and smirked at you as he hooked his thumbs into your panties and tore them from your legs.

“Hey!” You yelled, slapping his shoulder. Terry smirked, licked his lips, and stuffed the panties into your mouth. You smelled your arousal, your essence, and you moaned.

“You like it,” he said with a shrug.

You rolled your eyes, lifting your hand to pull your panties out. Terry snatched your wrist, pulling it above your head. Before you could lift the other, he snatched that one too. He kept both in one hand, and then stuffed your panties further into your mouth.

“When you gon’ say yes and let me play in these guts whenever I want?” He asked.

You groaned and closed your eyes to the onslaught of pleasure. His voice found your off switch, making your brain fritz out over hearing his words. “Not now, Terry,” you said, voice muffled by the panties.

You breathed harshly through your nose, rubbing yourself against him. He was so tall, so big, so thick.

“Why not now?” Terry asked, nudging his nose against yours. He kissed the corners of your mouth, kissing your jaw below your ear, and then nibbling on your earlobe.

He used his free hand to lift you on top of him and you wrapped your legs around his waist. His impressive bulge slotted between your legs and you moaned, rubbing yourself against him. Fuck, he made you needy. Wanton. Like you truly grew dumb, replaced with nothing but your baser instincts. To fuck. To grind. To toot your ass in the air and let him do whatever he wanted. Whatever he asked for.

“What’s holding you back from me? From this? From fucking you in the morning, fucking you at night, in between meals when I need to get inside you. I know you feel this too,” he said. He moved his joggers down, exposing his huge dick.

“Fuck,” you moaned, rubbing against him. Your pussy smacked as he tapped his tip against your pussy.

“She nice and loud tonight,” he said.

Your legs shook as Terry moved his dick through your folds, getting the tip of him wet before pushing in.

“Oh shit, shit, shit,” you moaned, throwing your head back against the wall. He was so big. “Fuck, fill me up, fill me up.”

Terry groaned as he pushed inside, rolling his hips to sink inside. To bury his shaft deep and touch a that part inside. The part only he could touch. You tried going on dates with other guys. You tried convincing Terry and yourself that you were for the streets. Wasn’t no nigga gon’ play ‘round you no more.

But they all fell short. They all were measured against Terry and were found lacking. Incomplete. With a look, Terry could have you whining and fucking yourself on him like a horny dog.

“You could have this whenever you want,” he said. He began to stroke, proving that what came before were merely foreplay. He snapped his hips, pumped his arms and slammed you on his dick.

You moaned and grunted on his dick, crying, shaking, gripping onto him for dear life. He was the only one capable of delivering this type of pleasure. He leaned down and buried his nose into your neck, absently kissing you. Licking the rapid pulse in your neck.

“Terry, please, not-now,” you moaned. You didn’t know if he knew what you were saying considering the gag. Every inhale brought a fresh wave of your scent to your nostrils and you moaned. His moans mingled with yours, sliding more easily inside of you as your essence flooded his dick.

“Say yes, baby, say yes. Say yes for me. Say yes for Daddy,” he said, snapping his hips faster.

He fucked you furiously against the wall, slamming inside of you while placing tender kisses against your neck. Under your ear. Moving along your jaw. He clamped his teeth down on your panties and pulled it from your mouth. He leaned down and kissed you. Kissing those sweet lips. Playing with his rough tongue. His mouth was a gift from God himself.

You wrapped your arms around his neck. He moved his hands to your ass and smacked it, causing the sound to echo in your bedroom. “Oh fuck, Terry!”

Terry smacked your ass again. “What you s’posed to call me?” He asked.

He dropped you against his dick, pouding against that deep spot inside of you. The pitch of your moans changed, turning higher and faster. Coming quicker than you can breathe.

“There it is. But you gon’ have to earn this second nut,” he said.

You pushed feebly against his shoulders. Not to get rid of him but you needed some kind of release. Something to make the pressure pop. You forced yourself to breathe, to gulp in air.

“Please, Daddy,” you moaned, turning wet, glistening eyes to him.

A tear escaped your eye and Terry licked it off of your cheek. He purred, dick throbbing inside of you.

“Be good for me and say yes. Say yes to getting dicked down every night. On demand,” he said.

“I can’t,” you moaned, shaking your head back and forth.

He found a good rhythm, hitting your spot and making you moan every time he did it. Sweet, musical moans that sounded good even to your own ears. He was fucking you too well, had you clutching onto his neck. His thighs were like steel, effortlessly holding you and slapping against your ass.

“Sure you can, you wanna cum, right? That’s why you opened the door for me? That’s why you’ll always open the door for me? ‘Cause you know I dig this shit out right. You know you can’t find another nigga ready to treat you like this. Give you what you need. What you crave. Like a good little fuckin’ slut,” he said.

He abruptly pulled out of you. “No!” You screamed.

Terry chuckled as he carried you to the bed. He laid you down, pushing your shirt up enough for him to see your titties.

He spread your legs wide and slid back inside you like he never left. He rutted inside you, increasing his pace now that he didn’t have to support your weight. He was relentless, moving his hand up to rub your clit.

Your thighs snapped shut, trapping his hand. “Open that shit back up. Now!” He barked.

You whimpered and whined as you fought against your body, opening your legs even though you wanted to stall him. Hold him off. “Move that hand before I move it for you,” he said.

You sniffled, hot all over and sweaty all over. You moved your hand, lowering it to the covers and grabbing a handful. “Fuck! Please, Daddy!” You moaned.

Terry pushed your legs until they were practically at your chest. He slapped your ass a few times. Each slap was worse than the last, lighting your ass up like a Christmas tree.

You yelled out, cried out, pleaded with him while he continued to smack your ass and dig in your guts. You felt him deep inside, throbbing, pulsing.

“Please, give meeee,” you moaned.

Terry chuckled. He flicked his thumb against your pussy, your slick making your pussy sound louder. Wetter.

“Hear how she sings? You gon’ take this dick and still lie to my face?” He asked.

You shook your head. “Not-lie,” you huffed. Fuck, you were close. You were so close. You clutched at the covers, at the sheets, clawed at anything close by.

“You want that shit, then you say the magic words. I’m tired of waitin’,” he said.

You sniffled. Aw hell. There was no use fighting anymore. It was clear that Terry was the only one for you. He was the only one who knew exactly what to do, what to say. He was a man. All over.

You leaned on your elbows and stared in his face. “Fuck me, Daddy, like I’m yours. ‘Cause I am,” you said.

“You mine?” He asked, grinning wide and stealing your breath away. Fuck, he was so pretty. So beautiful.

You nodded. “I’m yours,” you said.

“This pussy mine, too?” He asked. He pressed on your clit and you moaned loudly. You lifted your hips, needing him to do that shit again. He obliged, pressing on your throbbing clit.

“Yes, Daddy, all yours,” you agreed. You’d agree to steal the moon for him if he would just let you cum. If he would grant his permission.

“Good, then cum on this dick like a good slut,” he said. He kissed you, changing the angle of his hips and snapping against your sweet spot. You came instantly, legs shaking, pussy gripping him tightly.

“That’s it. Squeeze that fuckin’ dick,” he moaned against your lips. He palmed your tits, kneading, pinching your nipples and making you grip him even tighter.

“Make me feel that,” he cooed as he thrust one more time and exploded inside you. His pulsing cum painted your walls white.

Terry moaned, face falling into bliss as he came. He was even more beautiful like this. Undone. Unleashed. Untethered to that iron clad control of his. He scrunched his face up, like it felt too good. Too amazing.

“Ohh, good girl, good fuckin’ girl,” he moaned, kissing your forehead. You huffed, panting, sweating. Your skin turned clammy, the pressure gone from earlier.

Your pussy squelched as Terry softened, pulling out of you. His cum gushed out, leaking down your ass and onto the bed. Terry kept your legs spread, watching as he leaked out of you.

“Tomorrow night. Me and you. Date night. Then back here so I can fuck your brains out,” he huffed. He kissed your forehead and then pulled you into a sitting position.

He caressed your chin and you fell forward, placing your forehead against his sculpted chest. “Yes, Daddy,” you said and kissed his belly.

“There’s my girl,” he said.

There's more Terry! The Secret Terry Richmond Files

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ambrosiagourmet · 4 months

Text

Hey, Kabru and Mithrun spend some interesting time together, don't they?

With Mithrun having just officially premiered in the anime, and a lot of discussions swirling around about him, I've been thinking a lot about that section of the story quite a bit. These chapters - Roasted Walking Mushroom and 6 Days - are some of my favorites. For a lot of reasons, really. Not only are they are a huge turning point for the story as a whole, but they have some excellent character work, and represent an important shift in Kabru and Mithrun's individual arcs and relationship to each other.

The chapters are also kind of a fully contained story arc just on their own, which is an impressive bit of writing, and makes them super fun to analyze. So that's exactly what I'm going to do!

This will be structured as a close reading of chapters 61 & 62, with some asides for additional important context. I'm going to talk a little bit about a reading that I disagree with, but for the most part I just want to focus on how Kabru and Mithrun's relationship progresses during these two chapters. In particular, the ways they both grow from the time they spend together.

Also I just want to quickly note that this isn't written as Ship Content. It's meant to be an analysis of their relationship as presented in the text - layer whatever additional meanings and filters on top of that as you'd like, but please respect that my intent is not to talk about or champion a ship, or frame any of this content as romantic.

So, with that all being said:

How do Kabru and Mithrun help each other?

First of all, I think there are two important pieces of context that inform the Kabru & Mithrun Dungeon Adventure chapters. Both are related to Kabru's state of mind, and both are set up before or during the chapters in question.

The first is the context of what happened just before Kabru and Mithrun fell into the dungeon. Specifically, the events that led Kabru to make them fall.

Kabru, essentially, gives up his life at the end of chapter 55. When he stops Mithrun, and when they both plummet with the collapse of the first floor, he is okay with dying. Mithrun warns him that they will both die if Kabru doesn't let him go, and Kabru accepts this as a worthwhile exchange.

Why?

Well, because he doesn't want the elves to take over the dungeon. Throughout the last 3 chapters, the Canaries have been effective, but they have also been cruel in their efficiency, and they have made it clear that they don't care about collateral damage. They lured people into the dungeon specifically to provoke a violent reaction from it, without regard for who might get hurt by the violence.

What's more, they are keeping important information from Kabru, and he knows it.

He's not just looking for a solution, he's looking for the truth - a truth that he believes that he will only find through conquering the dungeon. With good reason, to be fair! The elves make it very clear that they aren't there to treat the other races on the Island as equals.

So Kabru uses the only tool he has available to him - his own life. It won't get him the truth, but it at least gives a chance for another person from a short-life species (namely, Laios) to earn it in his place.

This dovetails nicely with the more thematic context that's introduced in at the start of chapter 61: the room where he could eat all the cake he wanted.

This place, a place that Kabru never wants to go back to, is a place where he is safe, and a place where he is ignorant. A place where he is sheltered from danger, but also from the truth. The same place the Island would become, if the Canaries had their way. He doesn't just want to be safe, and he doesn't even just want the world to be safe, though he does want to be able to protect people from what happened in Utaya.

But he doesn't just want to entrust that safety to the paternalism of the elves (especially since he is all too aware of the ways they can fail, or the people they are willing to sacrifice in the name of that "safety"). He wants to be given the agency to seek safety and peace for himself.

He wants to understand. And he wants the chance to act.

This is the context we have, going into the arc of 61 & 62. But before I talk about how the chapters build on this context, I want to take a step back and look at what else the chapters establish early on, before delving into their exploration of Kabru's agency.

First of all, I kind of want to challenge the framing of Kabru and Mithrun's relationship as solely that of a caretaker and his charge.

Obviously, Kabru is forced into a caretaker position - at the threat of his friend's safety, no less. (Okay, it's actually Toshiro and Namari that are being held, but still. There are hostages involved in this) But I do think it's important that Mithrun isn't the one who puts Kabru in this position - Cithis is.

Before this conversation, Kabru and Mithrun are already exploring the dungeon together. Mithrun doesn't threaten Kabru, or force his hand. He kind of just assumes that Kabru will join him. It's rude, and not particularly respectful, but given the dangers of navigating a dungeon alone, I don't think that's really an unreasonable assumption. And it certainly isn't the same as Cithis' approach.

If they were left alone with no intervention, they probably would have ended up in a similar position to the one that Cithis leveraged them into. Kabru is smart, and he could have figured out the things that Mithrun needed help with. And, to be clear, those are things that Mithrun needs help with not because he is selfish or thinks they are owed to him, but because he is disabled. It's not unreasonable for him to need that help, and it's not unreasonable for Kabru to provide it, under the circumstances.

Besides, they both need each other down there. Kabru wouldn't have survived without Mithrun - he doesn't know enough about monsters, and isn't familiar with the deeper dungeon's layout. And Mithrun wouldn't survive without Kabru - he isn't able to notice his basic needs and would burn himself out without food or rest, making him an easy target for the monsters he could otherwise take care of on his own.

Aside from both needing each other, another interesting layer to their relationship, which is established right away, is that Kabru doesn't have to - and literally cannot - put on a mask of social niceties around Mithrun. He can't suck up. It doesn't work.

So Kabru, who spends so much of his time concerned with how others perceive him, and who compromises his own comfort in order to become the most appealing version of himself at any given time, has that tool taken away. He has to help Mithrun, but notably, he can only help Mithrun to a certain point. He cannot compromise his open and honest feelings to help maintain someone else's view of the world - or at very least, it doesn't benefit him at all to do so.

Instead, they sit together, in the same position, share the same shitty mushroom dinner, because they both have to:

And that's notable, too. They both have to. Cithis' demand is most specific about the need to eat. Three meals a day! But this is something they both need, not just Mithrun.

Still, their relationship at this point still isn't exactly supportive, or even respectful. Kabru may have realized that he didn't need to keep up an act around Mithrun, but ya know, he still turns around an immediately try to, with that shitty mushroom dinner.

(The 'badly drawn shapeshift Kabru' gag here isn't just funny, imo, it's also a reminder of the thing he JUST LEARNED. Mithrun is immune to the Kabru smile anime sparkles filter.)

Mithrun also doesn't tell Kabru any helpful information at this point, and doesn't really put much effort into helping him at all. He slaps him awake out of a Nightmare, and treats him with the same disregard he did at the start of the chapter, focused entirely on moving ahead.

But then Mithrun collapses, and the current structure of their relationship collapses with him.

I think it's interesting here that the shift in their dynamic also includes Mithrun explicitly noticing Kabru's desires. Obviously it's not actually like some kind of I truly see you and recognize your humanity moment shared between them, but I do still like the way that it pulls Kabru's internal wants to the surface. Kabru not voicing his desires doesn't mean they don't exist, and Mithrun recognizes that the same way the dungeon does.

And then Mithrun does, in fact, grant one of Kabru's deepest desires. He tells Kabru the truth.

Just like how they are working together in the first place, this truth is as much a necessary concession to survival as anything. But that doesn't mean it's not impactful for Kabru. This is the thing that every other elf in his life has kept from him. A secret foundational to his core belief that long-life and short-life species can never come to mutual understanding.

And Mithrun isn't just giving him the bare minimum information here. What he shares isn't just a truth, it's his truth. It's a level of complete and total vulnerability that few people share with each other. And again - some of this may just be coincidence and necessity. I imagine Mithrun is so open, at least in part, because he doesn't have the same barriers that other people do when it comes to sharing these things.

But, then again... we see Mithrun at his most vulnerable and empathetic when he is talking to dungeon lords & potential dungeon lords, and trying to convey to them the truth of the trap they are walking into.

This face:

Is very similar to this face:

These are some of the few instances that we see Mithrun emote in this way, and his story does come just after he notices the dungeon responding to Kabru's desires.

But, no matter if Mithrun's openness is in response to Kabru being tangled in the dungeon's hunger, or just part of his nature (or, maybe, a little of both), his story changes things for Kabru. It gives him the chance to make actual choices, now that he understands the truth. It gives him a chance at agency in the story.

And he immediately turns around and uses some of that agency in an interesting way:

When asked about why he can't sleep, Mithrun says he needs to be magically compelled. Being magicked to sleep is simple, and it is efficient, but he doesn't even just say it's the best option. He seems to believe it is the only option.

So much in Mithrun's recovery has been framed through how it will let him fight the demon. Recover so that you can return to the dungeon. Sleep so that you can return to the dungeon. Eat so that you can return to the dungeon.

But rest, much like eating, isn't just about achieving the bare minimum required for efficiency. And as Senshi would probably say, the easiest path isn't always the best.

I don't think that the Canaries are intentionally running Mithrun ragged or anything, but as I mentioned earlier, they are very focused on efficiency, with little thought spared to what is lost or hurt in the process.

And there is something different about Mithrun's time with Kabru in the dungeon. Lycion even notes it, when they finally connect back up.

I don't think it's a huge leap to say that how Mithrun falls asleep here is emblematic of that difference. When Kabru helps Mithrun to sleep by massaging his feet, rather then using magic, he is explicitly taking a step beyond the minimum. He is providing comfort to a body that has been given only necessities for a long, long time.

These two events - Mithrun sharing the truth of the dungeon with Kabru, and Kabru choosing to help Mithrun to sleep through a foot massage - shift their relationship. There's a clear difference in how we see them treat each other, and especially in how Mithrun treats Kabru.

Before, Kabru provides food that he has gathered himself (okay, it was a mushroom he put his foot through on floor one, but the point still stands that Mithrun offered no help at all with getting food).

Afterwards, they gather food together.

Before, Mithrun teleports Kabru towards a monster, using him as a weapon when he can't find anything else.

Afterwards, he helps Kabru escape monsters, and fights them directly.

Before, he slaps Kabru awake after 5 hours of uncomfortable, Nightmare-filled sleep. A rest which, notably, Kabru didn't even intend to take for himself.

Afterwards, we see Mithrun keeping watch while Kabru sleeps in a bedroll.

I don't necessarily think that all of these things are choices that Mithrun consciously makes. Like, after 6 days, Kabru would have to get some actual sleep eventually, and Mithrun would pretty obviously have to keep watching during that time.

Nonetheless, there's still a difference in how these scenes are framed, and the fact that it is these things that are used to portray their journey together. Kabru is not the sole person providing food and sleep and safety - they provide these things for each other. Kabru eats alongside Mithrun, hunts alongside Mithrun, and he sleeps in the same way we see Mithrun sleep, laying down and resting deeply enough to be groggy when woken up.

What's more, during their time together, there are even a couple of instances of Kabru being more willing to care for himself and accept care. The sleeping is one example - note how he is surprised at having slept "that long" when told he was asleep for less than even the minimum recommended amount of nightly sleep - but I think the pattern of his eating is even clearer. In making sure that Mithrun eats regularly, he is forced to eat regularly too.

And I especially like the progression with the Barometz meal. After Mithrun has fallen asleep, Kabru thinks about wanting to "give [Mithrun] something nice to eat," but also notes that Mithrun's lack of desire "means there isn't even anything he wants to eat." So what does Kabru do?

He makes Mithrun something that he wants to eat.

I've already talked a bit about the ways that Dungeon Meshi depicts people finding support through "borrowing" the desires of the people who care for them, and I think this scene is a great example of that idea. Especially in the way that it pulls an expression of desire from Kabru, who is so prone to ignore his own hunger and needs. The meal may not end up anywhere close to the flavor intended, but it's still a far cry from the roasted walking mushroom.

All of these pieces come together at the end of chapter 62, resulting in a pivotal choice that could only happen because of the ways Kabru and Mithrun have, at least a little bit, grown closer to each other.

As they are preparing to leave, Kabru hears a bell ringing in the dungeon, just as he hears Toshiro's matching bell on the other side of the portal. Realizing Laios is nearby, Kabru hesitates. He knows the truth about the demon, and how he has a chance to act on it.

Cithis, the person who extorted Kabru into taking care of Mithrun in the first place, pushes for Mithrun to follow along with the plan.

(okay a quick aside here I just want to say I do love Cithis and I'm not trying to bash on her here. I just think it's interesting that she is the one to establish the terms of Mithrun & Kabru's cooperation, as well as the one who tells Mithrun to leave the dungeon at the end of the chapter)

But Mithrun doesn't go along with her command. Instead, he does something unexpected:

He asks what Kabru wants to do.

In contrast to Milsiril's smothering comfort,

and in contrast to his Mithrun's own assumption that Kabru will follow him, when they first wake up in the dungeon,

Mithrun follows Kabru's lead.

This, right here, is the change between them. Not only that, but it's a shift in the entire balance of agency in the dungeon. For what might be the first time in a very long time, Kabru - a tall-man - knows the truth, and is acting on it. He makes a huge decision purely on his own judgement. He is not trying to appease or coerce anyone, and he doesn't win Mithrun over by hiding his true intentions.

Rather, it's the honesty between them that builds to this moment. Mithrun's honesty earns Kabru's trust, and Kabru's honesty earns Mithrun's respect. They bond not because they are forced to spend time together, but because they choose to spend that time giving each other more than the bare minimum - even when they are both people used to accepting the bare minimum.

It echoes Laios' argument with Toshiro, in a way. They eat three square meals a day (Cithis mandated admittedly), they get plenty of sleep, and in doing these things, they take each other seriously. They treat each other as more than just a means to an end.

I don't necessarily think it's a flawless, unbreakable bond that's built during this time - hell, they both kind of revert back to their old behavior, once reunited with the rest of the Canaries. People don't completely change their habits overnight, after all.

But it is a shift. It's a shift that gives Kabru the chance to steer the story towards the ending he has fought for all his life, and it's a shift that helps Mithrun find a way to move forward after he loses his own reason for living. They reach their goals, and then they step past them - facing life beyond the moments they thought defined their reasons for living. Facing life beyond the bare minimum.

And that is how they help each other.

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #kabru of utaya #mithrun of the house of kerensil #dungeon meshi spoilers #dunmeshi analysis

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worldsover · 11 months

Text

Transcendence/Pareidolia ft. Heejin

length ✦ 10k

genres ✧ it's a lot of oral, but hey, there's plot too; friends-to-lovers!Heejin

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Your fist clenches in a tight ball.

"If I die because of you, you better feed my fish."

"Die? You're being ridiculous," Heejin says.

You have a lot you could retort in that moment. Such as, "Me, the ridiculous one?" Or, "I'm being serious, I'm gonna actually die." Or, "You're actively contributing to the degradation of the meaning of language if you're claiming my suffering as ridiculous and assuming I'm participating in the honorable but currently inapplicable trope of hyperbole." All these things you can say, and you're without audible retort. This is the fourth time today Heejin's lips encircle your shaft; you were past dry by the third, because she would not let go of your cock for five minutes after your climax (because you didn't stop her).

Heejin's eyes beg, her lashes flutter, her tongue tempts, slithering, slick, and you think maybe you can spare her one more load.

Her mouth slips smoothly from the base of your cock to the head and then, pop. One big bubble of spit. She adds more, saliva foaming up on her tongue that's sticking out and toying with your tip.

"Don't die? Pwease?"

How ridiculous—or you could transcend to immortality at her behest.

All the while, she's sucking your dick in this bathroom like it's mere leisure for her. Like cigarettes to a smoker, she's blowing you like smoke, dirtying her throat, burning you up. Far past dignity now, the only thing she has between her knees and the floor is a bunch of toilet paper. The picture of addiction she paints is unfortunate and raw honesty and vivid contrast between such an elegant woman and such an inelegant solution to hunger. Despite how cavalier and practiced she is about introducing your tip to her uvula, Heejin will never give you a tidy blowjob. She salivates, every time, her tongue a wicked beast of its own, a serpent that can't lie above its love. And on the other hand, you can grumble and grouse all you want—if Heejin says your cock is going in her mouth, then…

You should've seen this coming like how you don't see yourself cumming because your eyelids are wired shut by the pretty agony of this orgasm. When you open them, her (fake, important to make the distinction) glasses are covered in streaks, her hands still twisting, tongue still licking your underside. Determination in her eyes says that every drop will be wrung out. It's possible this isn't leisure, but rather, business, and cum margins are getting lower as damnable inflation rises. She'll squeeze you dry for every last dollar of semen, no apologies to the sperm banks.

When Heejin is done, she sips on your cockhead, then a final kiss. You slump over the toilet and she pats your shoulder, laughing; it's a mean-spirited chuckle, but your dying wish is to hear that laugh one last time, so good on her for the penny of kindness she could spare like an insurance company donating to a hospital.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"How could anyone love sucking dick that much?" Jinsol asks.

You look at Jinsol, then look at Heejin. Then, look at Haseul, and look at Heejin again. You've never gotten used to this dynamic. How much are you supposed to interject between three drunk girls talking? Are you meant to at all? The topic has already gone off-course, and there's no captain to steer the ship back when you're six bottles down.

Your eyes fall on Heejin, then Haseul.

"Oh, man," Heejin says, downing a shot. Her hand falls around her cleavage, as she feels the warmth of the alcohol envelop her and shudders, eyes closed. "Do you really want to get into this?"

Look at Jinsol and Haseul as they laugh, and you join in laughter, and you look at Heejin again; now, she's serious, rolled up her sleeves for good measure. Let's address the whole looking at Heejin thing, because it's so apparent, even to your drunk ass, that it must be apparent to the others too—you asked her out a while ago, first year of college, rejection, but you're still friends now. Then, despite that, she started getting touchier, somehow more flirtatious. Drove and drives you fucking mad. This little hangout thing at Haseul's place is a long ways away (call it half a year) from getting four oral sessions in a day, though you remember it as being a pivotal stepping stone to the routine.

Focus. You're always putting on a performance, and the actors of the nerves of your brain are having trouble getting the script from the filing cabinets. Question: is it more or less suspicious to allocate, say, three glances toward Haseul and Jinsol each to compensate?

"Sure," Haseul says, still giggling to herself. She's been doing that ever since asked the first question. "What's so wonderful about getting your jaw sore and your mouth dry?"

Heejin makes an angry noise and says through gritted teeth, "It's not about that, obviously. There's so much more to sucking dick than the…" She gestures with her arms, unable to find a word.

"Why do you like it, Heejin?" you ask. Everyone stares at you. "Sorry, nevermind."

"No, no, it's fine," Heejin says."Lemme just, how do I put this? It's like, when you're sucking dick, you feel like you're controlling the dude. You decide when he gets hard, when he gets wet, and when he cums."

"So, you're a sadist," Jinsol says.

"Sadist, my ass," Heejin retorts. "It's… empowering. Sucking dick is empowering."

Huh. The alcohol fizzles and dies in your mind, and Heejin's deep voice echoes in your head to take the place—oh, Heejin is fucking wasted, by the way. Drank as much as the other two combined, but still standing (sitting), but barely.

"Weird," Jinsol replies.

Haseul crosses her arms, facing Jinsol. "Hey, don't kink shame."

"No, no, you don't get it. There's another reason," Heejin continues, verging mad by now. Her cheeks are turning red. "Dicks taste good. Taste amazing, even. And… dicks have faces."

Haseul spits out soju. Jinsol coughs soju. You're lucky you weren't mid-drink.

"Dicks have faces?" Jinsol and Haseul say together.

"Y-yeah," Heejin says, her face flushed. "Dicks have faces. Like, if you suck on the head a bit, you can see different expressions. If you lick the underside, you can see them smile. If you swallow deep… they cry."

Your pants tighten. Somehow, you get it.

She says quietly and quickly, "Oh and also I like the taste of cum. Alright, fine, I really like the taste of cum." She gets louder. "Fine, okay, geez, I LOVE the taste of cum! Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Everyone bursts out in laughter. Heejin sips angrily on soju.

"Alright, Heejin," you say. "That was quite an enlightening explanation."

"Shut up, you," she says, sternly.

You gulp.

Haseul and Jinsol go get snacks from the kitchen, leaving you and Heejin alone.

"Dicks have faces, huh," you say.

"You're never going to let me live this down, are you?"

"Not a chance. You know, no one made you say all that."

Heejin grumbles. You try to get closer, but she puts her hand on your thigh.

"You've got a boner," she says. "Stop."

"Wha? What do you mean?"

"Stop." Heejin stares at you with a serious face, contrasting all the redness in her cheeks.

You don't know where to start with a response.

"It's just, I don't wanna make things weird"—too late—"and obviously all this girls' talk has you riled up or whatever"—by the way, Heejin's hand is slinking higher up your pants—"and I know it's not your fault, but, we're friends, and I don't wanna ruin that."

"S-sorry."

"Good boy."

Heejin had to look in your eyes while saying that one, huh?

You clear your throat, and all efforts to tame your second brain fail. Another drink. It's agonizing, waiting for Haseul and Jinsol to return. Then, Haseul and Jinsol return. Snacks. Too little, too late. There are probably other conversations as the night goes on, but your mind is already spinning from the alcohol, spinning even further at dirty thoughts incepted by Heejin. Eventually, Haseul and Jinsol conk out, and Heejin helps you carry them to Haseul's room.

"Heejin," you say. "I can carry them myself."

"Yeah, I know. Isn't it usually Jinsol who passes out last?"

You would scoff at Heejin's remark, though with your mind elsewhere, you just nod. After you lay Jinsol and Haseul delicately on the bed, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, where you jerk off furiously. You've never tugged yourself without a video in tow or some other material to assist, and you've never felt this urge drunk, but the mere concept of Heejin sucking off your cock like she needs it is enough for you to cum. Mark this as the inevitable inciting incident: the door swings open as you pump your last shot.

You make eye contact. Heejin blinks. Cum flies.

"Uh," you say.

"Woah," she says.

You say nothing.

Heejin closes the door.

"Shit," you mutter and you've used too much toilet paper wiping down where you shot and you're fumbling and you almost trip over yourself and—goddammit, what the fuck just happened. Once you clean yourself off, you go outside.

Heejin is standing there.

"It's fine. Don't sweat it," she says.

"I… I don't know if I can. You know. If I can, like, not sweat it, fuck." You sigh. "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing. Look, I'm gonna take the bed in her other room, you're fine with the couch right?"

You're drifting in and out of consciousness on the couch when Heejin shakes you awake.

"Huh?" you say.

"You know, I lied."

"About what?"

"Sucking dick having faces."

You blink. You rub your eyes.

"I lied. Dicks don't have faces. Cocks have personalities."

You're too tired to say anything. You just stare at Heejin. You smell a bit more alcohol on her shirt.

"Well, no, I mean, it's true, dicks have faces. But also cocks have personalities."

You think, but no words come out.

"The difference is, um, when a cock has personality, it has preferences and stuff. Like… preference for speed, depth, and tightness. When a cock has personality, you can tell when it likes and doesn't like what you're doing."

You nod off.

"Like, I could tell you would really like if I take all of you in my mouth. You definitely look more like an intimate, slow deepthroat kind of guy, you know, instead of the facefucking, gagging thing. It's like MBTI, yeah, that's it. Your cock is definitely an I, not an E. Oh, maybe a lot of tongue action? But not in the teasing the tip for the whole time sort of thing. Or, am I wrong? What kind of blowjobs do you like? Because you have the kind of cock I wanna tease, and the kind of dick I wanna kiss and why did you waste that load on a tissue, like are you kidding…"

Your eyes are closed.

A woman's deep voice. "Right. Well. Anyways, it's pretty late, and we're both drunk. So, uh. Good night. I guess."

✦✧✦✧✦✧

You wake up. Sunlight. Snack wrappers. Haseul and Jinsol nowhere to be found, or awake, rather. Heejin is next to you on the couch—no, you're hugging each other—actually, she's draped over you like a blanket, and your erection is pushing against her ass.

Heejin wakes up.

"Shit," you say, getting up. "I'm sorry."

"Didn't I tell you to... ugh, whatever."

You sit on Haseul's couch, rubbing the sleep and hangover out of your face, crust out of your eyes. You stretch, hearing creaks in your bones. Heejin sits up, looks forward.

"Last night," she starts. "I might have said some, uh, crazy things."

You snort.

Looking at you, she frowns. She doesn't seem hungover at all, not a bead of sweat on her forehead. Her hair is perfect, as are her pouty lips.

Your brow upturned, you scoff. "Like, crazy? That's one way to put…"

There's a twist in those lips now, like she's running it back in her head; now you are too.

"I mean—yeah, that's the right word, but..."

She's still staring at you, and your mind's really running in circles and sure she laid out the track herself but you could just run off it at any time.

Oh, you're following the track still? "It's, just, I'm, I'm sorry for, what I was, you know, doing. Last night."

Heejin sighs. "I told you. Stop apologizing. It's fine."

"Okay," you say.

You make an excuse to Heejin about getting home, despite wanting nothing more than to spend time with her. What's the point of hanging out when it's just going to make your crush on her worse.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

When you get home, you end up jerking off three times in a row in your own bathroom, but at least you aren't interrupted any of those times.

A few days after the party, you've been thinking about Heejin's joke a lot more than you should.

The worst thing is that Heejin is being all chummy with you again like nothing happened. You wonder if she's doing that on purpose. Either way, you've learned that you need to distance yourself. You've been avoiding group hangouts. You haven't answered your texts in a couple days. You've avoided the pet store the both of you always visit, instead opting to support local businesses like—insert large delivery corporation here (no free advertising)—for your fish food. This goes on for a week.

The week ends when Jungeun comes to your house.

"What?" you say, lounging, staring at air bubbles floating to the top of your little aquarium.

"Don't 'what' me," Jungeun replies through the closed door. "Open up."

"No."

"Look, I'm here because Heejin is really sad, and so Haseul wanted to know why you're not talking to Heejin, and I volunteered because I could tell Heejin really wants to see you and not just talk to you."

"Jungeun, I don't know."

"Listen. I'm not leaving."

Ten minutes later, Jungeun is eating potato chips in your room.

"So… why are you avoiding her?" Jungeun asks.

"What does she want to say to me?" you ask.

Jungeun pauses. "She… told me to tell you to go see her."

You sit on your sofa next to Jungeun, grabbing chips out of the bag. They're your chips.

"She didn't tell me to tell you what exactly it is, but it's important," Jungeun continues. "But honestly, what's been up with you?"

"Nothing's been up with me. I'm the same guy."

"That sounds like someone who has not been the same guy."

You eat more chips. "And how are things going with you and Jinsol," you say.

Jungeun stops slouching. "Hey, don't try and change the subject. For the record, it's been going fine, thank you very much."

"Sounds like you're still in the friendzone."

"You're the last person I want to hear that from."

"Me, the last person? I'd assume Jinsol would be the last person you want to hear that from."

"Fine! Just stop being a dumbass, okay? Heejin really, really wants to talk to you."

You put your hands up. "Okay. You win. I'll talk to her."

"Awesome." Jungeun looks down at her phone, then looking back up, she smiles. "Oh, by the way, Yerim just texted me, she finally finished exams for the semester. What if Heejin and Yerim both come over? We can get everything out of the way, two for one deal."

You sigh. "Yeah, I guess."

She pats you on the shoulder.

You feel no less comforted.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Two for one deal, your ass. You're pacing around your bedroom. Yerim and Jungeun are playing Smash in the living room, and Heejin is… somewhere, probably. The door is shut. All the noise in the world is muffled. You don't know what to expect. Obviously, Heejin needs to talk to you; you're her friend, one of her best friends, and you've been ignoring her for the past week. You sit down. Take a deep breath.

Knock, knock.

"Come in," you say.

You sit on your bed. So does Heejin. You look away. Look down. She smells really, really good, sweet and warm. You've missed her, a lot.

"Hey," Heejin says.

So she's talking first. "Hey," you respond.

You were already loosening up your tense shoulders, but Heejin says "So, Mr. Dickface" and you laugh and you look at Heejin, casually stunning in a simple outfit, a white tee, black shorts.

"Heejin, come on. It's been a week. I swear I would've forgotten if you didn't bring it up."

She pouts.

"Okay," you say, "alright, I would have not forgotten, fine. I still can't believe you. Dicks having faces."

She laughs now.

There's a lull in the conversation. The sound of Yerim shouting and buttons mashing is barely audible. You turn to face Heejin, and she's still looking at you. Her eyes are… soft, vulnerable. She's holding herself.

"Listen," Heejin says. "I'm sorry if I've been weird these past... mmm, months? I know you're not dumb, and I guess, I've been treating you like you are."

You whisper, "I am dumb though."

"No, you're not." She scoffs. "I'm sorry, seriously. We're friends. And friends don't lead each other on and play games"—the sound of a cheer coming from outside the room, definitely Jungeun—"okay, well, they do, but friends don't keep their friends wondering."

"Wondering?"

Heejin sighs. "Let me just get this off my chest. So, yeah, I like you. A lot. Obviously, you've liked me since the beginning. Or, well, loved. When you asked me out, I was excited and nervous and confused, but I... You know me. I've got a million things going on at the same time. Dating as a possibility didn't even cross my mind."

"Yeah. I get it. I don't blame you for that. I guess if we're both laying it all out, I get it. I swear I do. It's that dynamic that always fucks up a friendship between guy and a girl, and I think it's good we got that question out of the way early. But like, I was shocked, obviously, when you started touching me so much, holding hands, sitting on my lap, hugging me." You pause and look away. "It felt good, but it also felt wrong. Like you were playing with my feelings."

Heejin reaches out and takes your hand. "I wasn’t playing with you," she says softly. “I was playing with myself"—half a giggle comes out of you, adding some levity, and she smacks your shoulder—"No, not like that. What was I saying? Right, I guess I was trying to figure out what I wanted."

"Right." Your head hangs again. "So what? I'm just a bystander? A side effect?"

"Yes."

She laughs, squeezing your hand. You pout.

"I'm kidding. You're more than that. Way more. I've learned that much by now."

Heejin takes a long pause.

You can hear breathing, neither exhalations nor inhalations matching pace. It's tense.

"You know what else I learned? Because there's something else on my mind right now. Sort of, sparking in my head, shouting. I know we're having this whole heartfelt thing and I'm sorry for ruining it, but I have to say this because you have a boner and it's springing in your pants and I might be drooling or something—fuck. I've learned that I love sucking dick. A lot. Okay?"

This is the first time you've seen Heejin get so flustered, so bothered. So are you.

She isn't looking at you, yet she continues anyway: "Well. I have to be honest. That's all hypothetical. You know, I've never actually done it. I've just thought about it. A lot. And, obviously, you know, cucumbers turn to dildos and other toys and stuff. And then I saw your dick. And now I've thought about your dick and keep thinking about it."

Your heart skips a beat.

"Yeah." Heejin starts nodding, gaining confidence. "Yeah. I'm certain now. And please, don't think you're taking advantage of me or something, because you're not. In fact, I want you to take advantage of me."

Your breath stays in your lungs.

"How about this," Heejin says, leaning in more. "Do you wanna… fuck around? Or, well, I mean, that's a crass way of putting it. Be my partner in crime. Suckbuddy. Fuckfriend. Whatever you call it. No strings attached. You want a blowjob? You'll get a blowjob. That kind of thing. Even if it's not dating or whatever, we just do what we want to do and we can figure it out later."

Your smile grows slowly. "You know what? Sounds good to me."

"That's it? I drop all that in front of you and you're just, 'sounds good to me'?"

"Okay, fine. Here. I forgive you. That good?"

"Actually, that helps." Heejin exhales, a sigh of relief. "Great."

Silence. Cleared throats. The both of you sit closer now. Her knees bump into yours, and she giggles. She holds your hand. Your eyes meet. You're holding her gaze and her body heat is emanating from her skin and you want her, badly.

"You look handsome today," Heejin whispers. "Have I told you that lately?"

"No," you say, quieter, feeling meek. "You haven't. Thank you."

Her free hand brushes strands of hair.

"Your hair, so cute," she says, happily humming.

Heejin scoots even closer as her knee nudges between your legs.

"Nothing to say? Mm… okay. I have a question."

"What is it?"

Heejin kisses you, immediately catching your lips before you can breath, a taste of chocolate-tinged lip gloss, as her tongue mingles with yours. Her hand lays over your bulge, and her leg is still bumping into your crotch. She pulls away.

"Wow. You're kissing good," she says, flustered.

"No, you're better at it. Amazing. You're amazing."

"God, you're sweet." She laughs.

Your mouths are together again. You pull her into a hug, and she squeals.

"Woah there," she says.

"Sorry. Got a little excited."

"It's fine." Heejin looks away.

You squeeze her harder, and she squeezes you harder. You break the hug.

"Hey. How far," Heejin starts, "do you think we want to go?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like, right now. In the moment. If I'm reading this right, and I think I am, you really, really want me. So how far? Are we just gonna kiss this time? Or do you wanna go a bit further? A lot further."

You freeze. "Honestly, you decide."

"You sure? Because, if I had it my way, I, um, I don't think I'll stop sucking your dick until Yerim finally wins a round and they wonder where the fuck we've been."

Your eyes are wide. "Y-you're really picturing that, aren't you? The two of them barging in while my cock is down your throat."

She does not reply.

"You are unbelievable."

"I can't help it," she says, almost whining. "You have the sort of cock I really want to play with."

You pull Heejin back into another hug, kissing her. She pushes you onto the bed and straddles your thighs. Her body heat, her scent, her hands caressing you. This is the first time you're feeling this much of her body against your own, and it's incredible. Even better—much, much better—is when she lifts up her shirt, revealing a simple, black bra. She takes her shirt off completely, and your hands grab at her stomach. How many times have you watched her do ab workouts for an ungodly amount of time, hoping one day you could feel her six-pack for yourself? Your hands then trail up higher, until you're grabbing at her tits, still ensconced within the confines of a bra, but her breasts are heavenly, perky, waiting to be squished and bounced on your hands.

Heejin has other designs for you: she grabs both of your wrists and pins them to the bed above your head. Your pants are tenting, and she grinds against your cock. You moan.

"I love seeing you like this," Heejin says. She lowers her torso onto yours, breasts spilling out of her bra a bit. She grinds harder, and you moan again. "You're so hot, and you're all for me. God, I wanna… fuck around so much."

She backs up, dragging her crotch down your leg as she descends. When she reaches your foot, she sits and puts it between her legs.

"Shit, Heejin," you say.

She bends over to kiss your neck.

"Your foot… feels good. I'll never say that again, so don't you dare make fun of me."

"Wouldn't dream of it. You can always tell me what you like."

She's rubbing her crotch against your ankle and taking your shirt off. Her lips move down to your nipple, licking circles around it.

"Your cock… feels big," she says. She grabs at it through your pants. "I'm so fucking excited for the real thing."

You've imagined this moment so many times. You'd fantasized about being pinned to a bed, about being teased by Heejin, of course, but you didn't expect, couldn't ever picture how she'd really sound, how she'd actually feel, how it would feel to be touched, licked, kissed by her. And yet here she is, biting on your nipple, moaning herself as she uses your foot.

She lets go. "Your… chest is so nice."

"Uh, thanks."

Heejin smiles and returns to biting, but on your other nipple instead. Her next pecks and licks are on your own abs, tracing over your six pack, following the ridges and dips with her tongue. She takes your waistband in her mouth. Slowly, she pulls down. You lift your hips, and then your pants are off. Heejin drags her cheek against your cock through your underwear, eyes closed.

"Your scent… is amazing." She licks the fabric along your length, where it bulges. "Mmm, this is what I'm talking about."

Your cockhead is poking out of your waistband. She kisses it, and then sucks on it through your underwear.

"Heejin, take it… off."

She stops, eyes wide. She pulls your waistband with her mouth, and you lift your hips again. She tugs it down, your cock sprinting out.

"Oh, wow," she says.

"W-what is it?"

"Your cock… is really, really gorgeous."

You gulp. "Thanks."

Heejin takes your cockhead in her mouth. You close your eyes. She swirls her tongue around the tip. She bobs down, lips wrapped around your shaft. Then, pop. She takes your cock out of her mouth, holding it in her hand.

"Is this… okay?" she asks.

"More than okay. Really, really, really okay."

"Good." She jerks you off, her spit easing the friction.

"Shit, Heejin."

"God, I love hearing you say my name."

She moves faster, your cock slick in her palm. She alternates between fast and slow. One second, she's going quick, and the next, her hand is barely moving, and your cock is twitching in her grasp. Her thumb strokes your underside.

"I… love teasing you," Heejin says. "I love making you beg for me to go faster."

"Please, go faster, then."

"You're so cute." She goes slower. You groan.

Heejin moves her grip to your balls, stroking your underside with her thumb again. Her other hand grabs the base of your cock. Her mouth returns, sucking on your balls. She's pumping up and down.

"Fuck, Heejin, please… go faster."

"Again."

You gulp. "Please, Heejin, go faster."

"Good boy."

Her hand speeds up. Your balls are getting sucked, her tongue licking around them, and her other hand is jerking, and it's like she's milking you. Your climax is imminent. You warn her.

"You're gonna make me cum."

Heejin pops off your balls and takes your cock out of her hand. She lowers her torso.

"I've been waiting so long for this," she says.

She swallows you.

Her tongue is slathering your shaft, and she's bobbing down, and her lips are tight around you. The tip of your cock bumps into the back of her throat. Her hand is caressing your balls. Her other hand is pumping the rest of your shaft. She comes up, taking a deep breath, and her eyes are watering. You wipe the tears away. She smiles, as if she's satisfied with having gagged on your shaft, as if she believes with her heart of hearts her own doctrine, and in such resolve of her mouth returning, you can't deny it.

Maybe her jaw hurts. Maybe her throat's dry. But you sense none of it. Deeper, you hit the back of her throat again, and her lips still curl up into a smile even through more tears. She's still pumping, and her other hand is pinching her nipples. Heejin moans. Her moan vibrates your cock, and her moan vibrates her throat, and her moan vibrates her tongue, like, holy shit, you've never felt anything better. And then…

"Heejin, I'm… cumming."

She stays down. You shoot. Her eyes widen. Another shot, and her eyes are closed. Another shot, and you're groaning, and her throat is swallowing. More shots. You're pumping Heejin full of your cum, and she's pumping you empty. Heejin, relentless, keeps sucking. You try and push her off, meteors dancing in your mind, but she won't budge. She stays down, her eyes still closed.

"Heejin, wait, wait, I'm so, so sensitive."

Heejin shakes her head. With her mouth still full, she says, "Wah, want… ahll."

You collapse. Heejin keeps sucking. Your cock is twitching in her mouth, and you try backing up in your mattress until you hit the headboard. You grip the sheets. You can't stop cumming. Every suck Heejin takes is another shot down her throat, each one joined by a satisfied "mm, mm", and swallowed without hesitation. You lose track of how many shots you pump into her. Even when you stop spurting semen into her mouth, and your orgasm is subsiding, Heejin stays down. She moves her lips from the base of your cock up to your tip, and she sticks her tongue out to cushion the underside of your shaft. You're shaking. You can't stop shaking.

"Heejin," you say—no, you gasp it; you croak it out; you despair for the name, "wait."

She does just that. Wait. With your cock in her lips like a popsicle, and she's waiting for you to melt. She breathes through her nose, humming to herself. You shudder. Your cock is still sensitive.

"Please… wait."

Heejin listens. She doesn't suck, and she doesn't bob. She waits. Your orgasm is over. Your mind is fading.

Pop.

She sucks the tip. Pop. She takes your cock out of her mouth, holding it in her hand again. Her tongue sticks out and licks up your shaft, where all the leftover cum and spit and saliva has gathered.

"Ahh." Her tongue is covered in white cream. A gulp. "Ahh." Her tongue is clean.

If you need a few more breaths, unfortunately you've used up all the air already, and you're just running on whatever other fumes now. "You… are insane," you say.

She giggles. "Was it that bad?"

"No, no, no, it was… the best. And the worst. A-are you gonna do that every time?"

"Do what?"

"Never mind."

Heejin crawls on top of your body. Your cock is nestled between her thighs. She lies on top of you.

"Did you like it?" she asks.

"Yes."

"Do you wanna… keep being fuckfriends with me? Suckbuddies? While I talked all the game about blowjobs, I wouldn't mind if you gave me a little oral service once in a while too." She says quietly, like she's felt bashfulness for the first time in her life, "And, I, um, am down to do more too. A little later. Or something."

"Of course. Yeah."

You wrap your arms around her.

"Good," Heejin says.

She kisses you. Your cum is on her lips, and she's sharing the taste with you. You taste yourself. It's nothing terrible, but she did gulp your load down without stopping, so, you can't fully empathize with her enthusiasm. Still, you reciprocate, savoring Heejin instead.

You hear cheering from outside the room.

"Think Jungeun won," Heejin says.

You snort. "Should we… go out? Pretend like nothing's changed?"

"I'm sure we'll figure something out."

✦✧✦✧✦✧

You and Heejin end up deciding not to hide anything, but not telling the girls either. They'd find out sooner or later, and besides, you'd both want to brag about it, eventually.

After the three of them say their goodbyes and leave your house, you head straight to your bathroom. You thought Heejin's lips fully drained you dry, but apparently not, because you shoot more loads thinking of how her throat swallowed you.

You receive a text from her.

> miss you already ;)

You smile.

> Miss you too. can't wait for next time.

Heejin sends a photo. A strand of spit falls from her lips, down to her cleavage. Your heart skips a beat.

> neither can i <3

You save the photo.

Your phone buzzes again.

> don't jack off to it though

> Too late.

You send your fingers and shaft covered in cum.

She sends a photo again, of her frowning.

> wtf!! that was my load! i'm gonna kill you!!!

You laugh and send a text with your other hand.

> Love you.

> lol yeah yeah whatever

You send another photo of your cock.

> another pic. As my apology

> wait.... didn't you say you just jerked off

> yeah?

> and you're still hard?

You gulp.

> guess so.

> you're such a stud. come over. i'll help you with that

You can't get dressed fast enough.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

You meet halfway. A park, late at night. Fastest option, you're both too horny. You and Heejin are behind a building, some sort of community center, too late to be open or for the sun to shine down on the two of you being so daring outdoors.

Heejin's lips are on your neck, bound to leave marks, but you can't find yourself caring. Her hand is massaging your balls over your shorts, her other hand is down your underwear pumping your shaft, and her thigh is grinding against your cock. She kisses you.

You grab her jaw and pull her off you. "Um, I'm sorry. I, um, I think we might wanna establish some ground rules or something."

She stares at you, wide-eyed. "Ground rules? Like, safewords and stuff?"

"Uh, I guess, yeah. I just… I don't know, it'd make me feel more comfortable if, you know, we had some boundaries."

Heejin sighs. "Fine. Fair. Makes sense, I guess. I'm not a huge fan of… talking about feelings and stuff, but, I get it."

"Right, so, um, obviously, no feelings, and, I dunno, no dating?"

"Yep. You can see other girls. I'll see other dudes. Nothing serious."

"Sure. Yeah. Okay."

Heejin continues pumping your cock. "Anything… else?"

You gulp. "Safeword, I guess. And, like, is there anything you're… not okay with?"

"Um, not sure. Never thought about it."

"Okay, well, what's a word you hate?"

"Hmm… dick."

You blink.

Heejin giggles. "Just kidding. Um, I dunno, uh, penis? Cock? Uhh… sausage."

"Sausage?"

"Yeah. Sausage."

You pause. "And if, you know, I can't speak?"

"Tap three times on me or whatever. Three for sausage. Sounds good?"

"Yep. Three for sausage."

"Great. Anything else?"

"There was one thing in particular I was thinking about. So like, one time, I nutted seven times in a day."

Her mouth starts to water. "Really?"

"Yeah."

Heejin pumps faster. "That's… amazing."

"No, but that's the thing. I gotta set limits, Heejin. Even this, third time, it's, it's a lot. Too much."

She frowns. "What, so… no multiple nut sessions?"

"Once a week. Maybe."

"Fine, fine, okay. Once a week."

"Okay, cool. Ground rules established. Sausage as the safeword. No dating, seeing other people. Three times for sausage. One nut session a week."

"Got it." Heejin resumes pumping your shaft.

"Hey, Heejin, um, what do you want me to… do, when you're blowing me? Anything you want? Because it feels like I'm just"—she gets on her knees—"kinda doing nothing and"—she pulls your shorts and underwear down—"you're doing"—she puts your cockhead in her mouth—everything, see!"

Pop. "Yeah. I dunno. Don't worry about me. Focus on yourself."

"Wait, Heejin, but, aren't we partners in crime, fuckbuddies, whatever, I wanna, like, make you feel good too."

"I appreciate the sentiment, Mr. Dickface." She jerks your shaft, and your knees buckle. You figure you might as well sit on the concrete floor, your back slumped on the brick wall. It's a makeshift position that you'll learn to get used to. She lowers her face to your crotch, then continues, "But don't worry. Feeling your cock cum is enough to make me feel good."

Heejin licks circles around your shaft, where the precum has gathered. Her hand is pumping the rest. Your cock is already twitching.

"Besides," she continues, "if you focus on me… we'd never get anywhere."

Pop.

She swallows you.

"Heejin, shit."

Her bobbing is relentless. She's pumping your shaft and massaging your balls, and she's deepthroating your shaft. Her spit is drenching your cock, and her lips are tight, and her tongue is slathering. Heejin's bobbing up and down, and your cockhead bumps into the back of her throat. Your balls clench. You shoot.

Pop.

Heejin takes your cockhead out of her mouth. Her hand is jerking, and the first shot hits her lips. The second, she opens her mouth to catch. The third, she closes her lips. The fourth, she catches in her mouth again. The fifth, she swipes up with her tongue. The sixth, she catches. The seventh, she misses, and your cum lands on her cheek. The eighth, she misses again, and your cum lands on her chin. The ninth, Heejin opens her mouth, and your cum falls right in. She gulps. The tenth, she misses again, and your cum lands on her neck. Heejin's pumping slows.

"That… was… amazing," you say.

Pop. "Yeah."

"Fuck. I'm just saying. Next time, I'm going to get a taste of your pussy." You open your mouth. "See, my mouth's watering just thinking about it."

"Yeah?" She jerks your shaft. Another shot lands on her neck. She wipes your cum and sticks her finger in your mouth. "You're adorable. But you're right. Next time."

✦✧✦✧✦✧

The two of you had ramyeon at a convenience store after, then said bye. Like friends. Just friends.

The next time is two days later, at night again. This time, you finally go to Heejin's apartment. You haven't been here in a long time, not since she moved in. It's cleaner than you remember.

"Make yourself at home," Heejin says.

You sit on her couch. She sits next to you. You kiss. Your hands are groping her breasts, and her hand is pumping your shaft. You lift her shirt, and her tits are freed from her bra. Her nipples are hard. You pinch them.

"Hey, wait, stop, stop," she says.

"Sausage?"

"N-no, I'm… fine, just, wait."

"What is it?"

"Um, so… I kinda… made a mess. Earlier."

"What… kind of mess?"

She giggles. "On my bed. You'll see."

Heejin leads you to her room.

"Holy shit," you say.

"Surprise?"

She's made a mess, alright. Sheets stained white, spots and splotches, streaks and trails, the whole nine yards. Your cock twitches, even if you're confused how one woman could make such a mess on her own.

"I was, um, thinking about sucking your cock all day yesterday. I didn't wanna touch myself, but I couldn't help it."

"I'm glad."

Heejin lies on her bed, pulling her shorts and underwear off. Her pussy is glistening. She spreads her legs.

"Come. Lick it."

"I've been waiting for this." You crawl on top of Heejin's body and put your face between her legs. You lick circles around her slit. You lick up and down her folds. "I don't exactly have toys to practice on like you... so I'm gonna need to do plenty of catching up."

"Don't worry. Practice away."

You lick circles again, and Heejin's quiet. You lick up and down, and she's quiet. You flick her clit, and Heejin's quiet. Your tongue is slathering her slit, and she's quiet.

"Wait, Heejin, is… everything okay?"

"Yeah. It's fine."

"What is it? Is my tongue rough or something?"

She looks at you. "Oh, no, no, not at all! No, it's, um, your technique's, uh, kinda lacking."

"Ah. Yeah, see."

"Here, I'll show you."

Heejin sits up and pushes you down. She's straddling your face.

"First," she says, "spread my… my lips. Like this."

She spreads her labia.

"Then, you wanna, kinda, stick your tongue inside, like, deep."

Heejin uses her finger to spread herself wider. You stick your tongue inside her hole.

"Now… use your thumb to, like, rub my clit, and move your tongue around. Like, you're, um, writing, something, with your tongue, I guess. Inside me. Like, a, um, circle. Shit, I dunno."

You rub her clit. Heejin moans. You lick circles inside her hole.

"And, uh, yeah, that's… about it. Oh, and, move your, your finger and thumb. Not at the same time. And I'll grab your hair and move you around and I guess just tell you what to do. And then you can figure it out after that, right?"

"Yeah. Got it."

Heejin lies back down. You spread her lips. You stick your tongue inside her hole. You rub her clit. You lick circles inside her hole.

"A little lower. And, and, like, lick, not circles, but, a, like, a line. But not a straight line. An, um, I dunno, a diagonal one. But not a diagonal one. A, uh, a curve, but not a curve. Um."

You lick lower. You lick diagonally, but not a diagonal. You lick a curve, but not a curve.

"There. Yeah. That's… good. Keep going."

You lick diagonally, but not a diagonal. You lick a curve, but not a curve. Heejin moans. Your tongue is still licking, and she moans, and her hand is on top of your head.

"Use your, your thumb, and, and, like, stick your index finger inside. Like, curl your finger and, and, find my, my, um, g-spot."

You rub her clit. You stick your index finger inside. You curl your finger. Heejin moans. Your tongue is licking diagonally, but not a diagonal. Your index finger is curling, searching, and you find her g-spot, a soft patch inside her walls. Your tongue is licking curves, but not a curve. Heejin moans again.

"Add… another finger."

You stick your middle finger inside.

"Curve both, both your, your fingers. Both fingers."

You curl both your fingers.

"And, and, like, twist. But not twist. Rotate. But not rotate. Uh, fuck, um, shit, I dunno, uh, fuck, whatever, just, um, fuck, uh, wait."

You lick diagonally, but not a diagonal. You curl both fingers. You rotate, but not rotate. While you're going through advanced mathematics under a tutor under a slightly lust-drunk stupor, you're starting to understand both sides more. On the one hand, your mouth is indeed going dry, and your jaw is starting to hurt. On the other hand, you're drooling. Whatever taste Heejin's pussy has is starting to get really addicting, enough for your cock to stay hard the entire time, enough for you to ignore the fatigue.

"Add… another finger."

You stick your ring finger inside, which immediately earns a moan from Heejin. Your tongue is licking curves, but not a curve. Your fingers are curled, rotated, twisted, whatever. Heejin moans again. You're rubbing her clit.

"Fuck, more, more. Rub my, my, rub my clit faster. Fuck, lick faster."

You speed up. You curl your fingers. You rotate them. You twist them. Heejin moans again. Her hand is tight on top of your head. Her body is trembling. You move your free hand and press it onto her stomach to keep her still. Your three fingers are thrusting in and out of Heejin's pussy, and her hips are buckling. Her walls are clenching. She moans, a final time.

Heejin lets go. You lick. Your fingers are thrusting. Your thumb is rubbing her clit. Heejin shudders. More gushes of cum coat your tongue and fingers. She's going to drown you. You understand how she made that mess. Your three fingers are pistoning in and out of Heejin's pussy as her climax subsides. More gushes. More. Less. Some.

"Wait," she says. "Hold… hold it. My spot."

You stop rotating, twisting, and whatever-ing. Her walls are fluttering. Your three fingers are still. Her girl cum is trickling out of her hole.

You take your face off Heejin's crotch.

"Holy… fucking shit," she says.

"Wild ride?"

"That was… amazing."

You flex your fingers. "Yeah. Didn't know you could squirt like that."

"Neither did… I."

Heejin props herself up. You stick your three cum-soaked fingers in her mouth. She sucks. She moans. You stick them deeper down her throat, and her lips are wrapping. Her eyes are closing.

"Thanks for… teaching me," you say.

Pop. "Mmm. Of course."

Your three fingers return to her pussy. You pump, and her girl cum is slicking your fingers. Heejin lies back down. Your three fingers are pistoning again. She moans.

"Wait, wait, sausage, sausage!"

You stop. "Shit, sorry."

"It's fine, it's fine. Just, sensitive."

"Got it."

Heejin giggles. "Sorry. Sometimes… I squirt a lot. Um. Overstimulated."

"Well, at least you know how I feel."

"Wait, was that a sausage moment, because I feel so bad and—"

You interrupt Heejin with a kiss. "No, it's fine. In fact, it was really fucking hot, and besides, I already told you about how much I can cum. Oh yeah, by the way—" another kiss, because there is no such thing as too many with Heejin "—I kinda wanna see the toys you were talking about."

"Really?"

"Yeah. If that's… cool."

She smiles. "Sure. Lemme, lemme clean up first."

"Alright."

Heejin cleans her bed with tissues, and you help her wipe up. Then, you head to her closet. She opens it, and… holy shit. There's an assortment of vibrators and dildos and g-spot stimulators and other contraptions and tools, almost an entire shelf dedicated to sex toys.

"This is… incredible," you say.

"Hey, um, by the way, could you, um, close your eyes?" she asks. "I, um, dunno, it'd… feel less embarrassing."

"Sure."

You close your eyes.

"And, like, turn around."

You turn around.

"Okay, okay, so, um, these ones"—you hear plastic tapping against plastic—"are just the vibrators. These ones"—plastic tapping again—"are the dildos. And then… um, these ones are for g-spots, and, and then there's more for anal, and then… um, I dunno, basically, um, the rest is stuff I've gotten on impulse because it looked fun."

You snort. "Impulse, huh?"

"Shut up. Um… open your eyes."

You turn back around. Heejin's holding a Hitachi wand.

"Okay, so, like, this, this is probably my favorite. Wand. Magic wand. And then"—she puts it back and holds a simple, white vibrator—"this is the, um, the next one." She puts it back and holds a curved, purple toy—"then this. Um… this is, this is the biggest"—she puts it back and holds a monster of a dildo—"um, and then, this is the smallest." She points to a cute, pink bullet vibe.

So many questions flood your mind, but the only thing you can blurt out is, "Impulse purchases, huh?"

Heejin shoves you. "Shut up! Um… and then, this"—black anal beads—"and, um, this"—clear, pink butt plug—"are for anal. Obviously. And then, um, basically, I've, um, experimented. A lot."

"Experimented, huh?"

She shoves you again. "Stop… saying huh!"

You wrap Heejin in a hug. "I'll say huh as much as I want."

"Whatever. Um… anything you wanna… try?"

You gulp. "C-could I watch you use them?"

Heejin steps away. "Wait, really?"

"Yeah. I mean, if you're comfortable. Like, right now. Or something."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Really."

Heejin sighs. "You… absolute pervert."

"You're the one with"—you point to her shelf—"all that."

"Fine, fine. Um, sure. Which… do you wanna see me use?"

You gulp again. "So, um. You said you practiced sucking dick on one of them right? Imagined it was me?"

She rubs her thighs together. "Y-yeah."

"Which… was it?"

Heejin reaches for one. She holds a flesh-colored dildo, about the length and girth of your own cock.

"This one," she says.

"Then, that one, please."

She nods. "Okay… sit on the bed. Get comfy."

Heejin puts the dildo on her bed and closes the closet door. She undresses completely, tossing her clothes to the side. Your cock is tenting. She returns, picks the dildo, and then she lies on her bed next to you.

"So… you, you just wanna watch me use this? Suck on it and stuff?"

You nod. "Yeah. Please."

Heejin bends her legs and spreads her thighs. Your cock twitches. Her free hand rubs her slit. She's spreading her lips.

"Shit, Heejin, you're so hot."

"Thanks… pervert."

She sticks the dildo inside her hole, and you love watching how her pussy stretches for it. Especially knowing your cock will be doing the same soon. That image makes you harder, enough for you to pull down your pants and start jerking.

"Heejin, would, would you… talk? Your voice is so pretty."

Heejin blushes. "Thank you. What do you want me to say?"

"Just, like, anything. Tell me… what you're imagining. What you're feeling.. Your fantasies."

Heejin gulps. "Um, o-okay."

Her free hand is rubbing circles around her clit. The dildo is slowly pumping in and out of her hole.

"Sometimes, um," she starts, "sometimes I imagine… it's you. Inside me. Your cock. And, um, usually, we're, we're doing missionary, and, um, your hands are on my tits. Pinching my nipples. Wait, come here. Pinch my nipples."

You follow her command, sitting closer to her so you can grab a nipple with one hand while your other jerks faster. Heejin moans. You jerk faster.

"Oh, god, mmm. If I could keep your gorgeous fucking dick in my mouth all day I would. I'd suck it every second. God, I'd, I'd wake up to it. I'd go to sleep sucking on it. Hnnh. Your hands… are making me feel really good. Or we could cuddle and watch a movie, and the whole time you'd be... fuck, you'd be slowly sliding your cock in and out of my asshole. Mmnh. God, and, maybe we'd have friends over, and you'd fuck me from behind, and no one would know. Shit, especially when we're at Yerim's, you could take me to her really nice bathroom and rail me in her really nice shower. Mmm."

The dildo speeds up, and her clit rubbing is speeding up. Your jerking is speeding up too.

"Or we'd go out to eat, and, fuck, you'd finger me under the table, and then, and then you'd order dessert, and instead of eating the real thing, you'd feed me your cock, and I'd cream myself. God, shit, your hands. Mmfh. Or, or, sometimes I imagine, we're on the couch, and Jungeun and Jinsol and Haseul are hanging out, and they're just chatting away, and I'm sucking your dick, or you're fingering me, or I'm warming your cock in my pussy, and no one would know. Shit. Or they do know, and they pretend like I'm not even there on my knees sucking you off. Fuck."

You're about to cum. "Shit, Heejin, keep going, I'm so, so, so, so close."

"Nngh. And I'd even—wait, d-don't waste that cum yet." She takes the dildo out and moves closer to you. "Feed me. Put it in my mouth."

You do. Heejin's jerking the rest of your shaft, and your tip is in her lips, and she's pumping, and her spit is slathering. You groan, and she moans, and a shot fires into her throat. Her jerking doesn't stop. Another shot, and your mind is fading. Another.

Pop. She's gasping for air, trying not to spill the load as she speaks. "Ahh, waih, feed me, hah, some cum, wifh your hand."

You take your cock out of her mouth, masturbating some cum onto your palm. Once your climax eventually subsides, you offer your hand to Heejin, and she makes eye contact as she slurps up your seed and licks every joint of your fingers.

After she has every drop she can get in her mouth, she looks up, gargles, and then gulps. "Thank you for the meal."

You sigh. "Jesus, you're crazy."

"Only for you."

You kiss. "I'm honored."

"Um, by the way, can I finish?"

"Yeah, of course."

Heejin lies back down and picks the dildo. Her free hand is rubbing her clit again, and the dildo is pumping in and out of her hole.

"Hold on," you say. "Could I… use the wand on you?"

She stops. "Really?"

"Yeah. Unless it's sausage time."

Heejin giggles. "No, no, it's fine, just, um, lemme… get comfy again." She gets on all fours, and you move to a squat, holding the wand in one hand and the dildo in the other. "And, um, don't turn it on the highest setting. Not yet."

"Got it."

You stick the dildo inside Heejin's pussy and move the wand to her clit. You turn the wand on, and the sound of buzzing fills her room, followed by a moan from Heejin.

"Tell me more fantasies," you say.

She tries her best to give you everything she's thinking about, from bending her over the kitchen counter to tying her up and edging her, from fucking her mouth blindfolded to having a whole day where you fuck her whenever you want, free-use style. You're glad that she trusts you enough to share her kinks. You're looking forward to experiencing them someday.

Her dirty talking devolves into incomprehensible moans, and her doggystyle position is faltering, her face in the mattress. You stick the dildo deeper, and you turn the wand to a higher setting. She screams.

"Shit, sausage, sausage!"

You immediately stop everything. Heejin's trembling.

"Oh, god," she says.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Fine. Just, too much."

"Fuck, I'm so sorry."

"No, no, it's fine, just, sensitive. But you owe me."

"What do you mean?"

"Turn the wand off and give me the dildo. I'm going to cum with your cock in my mouth because that's where it belongs."

You comply, handing her the dildo and turning the wand off. Then, Heejin lies back down on the bed. You're uncertain about where to go, until she grabs your ass, pulling you to mount on top of her chest.

"There we go."

You look back and see Heejin starting to dildo-fuck herself again, and before you can look at Heejin's face again, she's already captured your cockhead in her lips.

"Oh, fuck," you say.

She moans. You jerk off the rest of your shaft, and she's moaning hungrily around you. Heejin's free hand massages your balls, and she pistons the dildo at a hearty pace, a loud, sloppy pace. As if she were imitating what your cock would sound like, if it were pounding her hole. Having painted a million pictures in your mind, and having heard her talk about so many fantasies, your mind can't help but fill in the blanks. The biggest blank is her throat.

"Heejin," you say.

Pop. "Mmm. Yeah?"

"Could I… choke you with my cock?"

She giggles. "Go for it, stud. Shoot it straight down. I don't care. It'll make me cum harder. I wanna feel my throat bruise."

You gulp. "A-are you sure?"

"Mmm. Totally. I'm gonna keep fucking myself and sucking you off and if I tap three times on you, then it's sausage time, and you stop choking me. Deal?"

"Deal."

Heejin takes your cockhead back in her mouth and moans. Her free hand goes back to your balls, and you place both your hands on the sides of her head. Slowly, carefully, you force her lips to travel past your tip, and to reach halfway down your shaft. Her cheeks are concave and your palms can feel her slobbering. Once she reaches your base, her eyes are watering. She looks up at you, her dildo fucking faster, her lips tight. You pull on Heejin's hair to move her head up. She moans. Her whole body is trembling again. You slam her head back down.

"Heejin, I'm"—she moans—"about to"—she gags, a broken vibration around your cock, and she moans—"cum!"

Her gagging, however, only urges you more to fuck her throat with your cock. Heejin gags again, and her throat walls are clenching, and a whole bunch of spit comes out, drenching your balls. The last thing you feel before your mind fades is her final whine, lost to the whole of her universe. Your spasms return, your hips shake, and this time, you see her whole body tense up—finally you and Heejin cum together, with her dildo ramming her hole and your cock ramming her throat. She's squealing and squeaking while taking your cock down to her base again, her gagging more persistent. After all her fantasies, the real thing is so much hotter than your imagination, and your brain starts painting new pictures on instinct.

Pop.

"Holy. Fucking. Shit," she says.

Your cock twitches out spurts of your seed, coating her face. Her dildo has disappeared from her pussy.

"I'm, I'm sorry, about, um, being… a bit too rough," you say.

"Are you fucking stupid?" she asks. "Do you have, do you have any idea how fucking hard I came? God, and the cum you're firing in my throat, thank you, thank you, thank you. Your cum is what gives life purpose."

You grin. "I'm glad you think that way. My cum was only alive because of your pretty little mouth, though."

Heejin licks up every streak and spurt.

You lie back down on her bed next to her. "Hey, uh, you… still owe me though."

"True," she says. "What do you want? Another oral service tomorrow?"

"Can't tomorrow. It's already one in the morning."

"Ah, fuck. Morning."

"It's fine." Your voice is meek. "Let's not do anything. For a while."

"What?"

"This is fun. And I'm sure we could come up with a million ways to jerk each other off with our hands and mouths and words. But, you were thinking it too, right? When you had that, that dildo inside of you. Fucking you. I mean, I don't, I really don't wanna pressure you, but I thought it'd be fun. You know. If we just held off of anything, sex, cumming, masturbating, all of that, and we just… wait. How about until your birthday?"

"What?! That's like, twenty days away."

"Exactly, once in a while we could do other stuff. Wouldn't it be fun to just get edged every day until then, waiting, anticipating, and when we finally do fuck, it'll be the best sex of our lives, the perfect present. I mean, you got yourself off plenty of times already. I bet you could go without a nut for a while."

"Oh, no. You're not getting rid of me that easily."

"And vice versa, I guess."

Heejin grumbles. "Fuck. Fine. Deal. But no matter how much I tempt you, no matter how much you tempt me, we're not going to cum. We're gonna edge each other. No matter how hard I suck. No matter how hard you thrust."

"Deal."

You shake hands.

"Um, by the way," she says.

"What?"

"You, um, you're a pervert."

You sigh. "I know."

"But you're, um, you're a pretty nice guy. And smart. And hot. Okay, that's enough for your ego, goddammit."

"Keep going, you're gonna make me cum."

Heejin grins. "Oh, that's all it'll take, huh?"

You kiss.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

You wake up on Saturday morning, having stayed the night at Heejin's place. The two of you have a breakfast of leftover ramyun, and you say goodbye at the door.

"Wait," she says. "Hold on. I forgot something."

You turn around. "What?"

Heejin kisses you. "Bye."

You return the kiss. "Bye."

You go home, and on Sunday, you wake up to a text from Heejin.

> morning. :)

You smile.

> Good morning.

You send her a picture of your cock, already hard in the morning. She sends a photo of her own pussy, spread open with her fingers. It's scintillating, dewy. Your cock twitches.

> morning wood?

> Yep.

> you know how bad i wanna suck that dick right now

> Yeah. I'm thinking about fucking your throat.

> godddddddd i love it when you say that shit

> Do you think you're gonna nut today?

> probably not. if i can't even last a weekend without cumming, i srsly need to reexamine my life

> lol. true. well, good luck.

> you too

You send a photo of your cock, with a drop of cum at your tip. It only took a token effort of stimulation to get a bead of pre-cum.

> wait were you fapping just now

> Yeah. Just a bit

> godddddd youre so bad

> Don't worry. I don't plan on cumming until it's inside you on your birthday :)

> fuck you

> I thought we were gonna save that for your birthday too :(

> shut up

You smile.

> I miss you.

> me too

> Next week. We can meet up. See how we're feeling about this whole thing. Maybe get dinner or something.

> like a date?

> Well, no dating. Obviously. Ground rules and all.

> "k fine. sounds good

> See you then <3

> yeah yeah whatever <3

You laugh. This is going to be fun.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Happy birthday to the best girl! Once again, this falls under my time-honored tradition of incomplete-but-complete-enough stories to post for some deadline, so I'm not bothering with crossposting (okay fine I am just too lazy).

#kpop smut #reader insert #male reader #loona smut #artms smut

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 6 months

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It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 28] || [Chapter 30]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.2K~ cw: illness, injuries, hurt/comfort, fluff Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: they're very sick... poor babies

Chapter 29: Taking Turns

The next couple of days were rough.

Between:

Kyle unable to bend down or stand straight for too long before his hip protested;

John unable to stretch himself in any direction due to his lower back hurting;

Johnny limping from his knee and with an arm on a sling;

and Simon having… not quite the flu but something? and getting dizziness spells every time he moved…

You haven’t gotten any proper rest either and have been running back and forth trying to help care for all of them.

They try their best to help, really… But the amount of groans, winces, and strained voices you hear whenever Kyle tries to make you all food, John tries to bend down to help with laundry, Simon tries to sweep, or Johnny tries to do anything two-handed… It’s hard.

Your flat suddenly feels too small for them, for you.

Haven’t slept in your bed the whole weekend… But hey, at least you get to cuddle Simon all night every night. He’s like your own heater…

It comes to a head on Monday morning. You’ve gotta get to work… It hurts you to leave them like that, all alone, all day, in the state they’re in.

“So… there’s the spare key-” You handed the spare to John who had tried his best to be up with you for breakfast, leaning himself on the wall by the front door as you talk in hushed tones, Simon sleeping barely a couple feet away on the couch, actually getting rest.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be fine-”

“John…” You murmured as you looked up at him, your face showing nothing if not a deadpan inquiry. “You’re all dying.”

“We’re not dying. We were but we’re doing so much better after having you dote on us all weekend, darling.” He replied with a playful smile, which was cut through by a little wince that made his blue eyes press shut.

“Right.” You retorted and rolled your eyes. “Because you’ve gotten so much better, huh?” You taunted and shook your head.

“It’s fine… we’ve got… 3 or so functioning pairs of legs, 2 spines, 3 and a half pairs of arms and 3 working heads…” He trailed off, humourously listing the unaffected parts of their ailments.

“Ah yes… And somehow none of you are functional at all.” You teased again, smiling playfully, receiving a sigh and a conceding in the shape of an eye roll from him.

“Anyways,” You told him as you cupped his face. “You get back to bed… And try not to die, all of you. This flat isn’t mine, I don’t think you should die in here.” You added.

“Copy that.” John nodded with a chuckle which drew another wince from him. He kissed your forehead lightly then limped his way back to bed.

You had just gone on your lunch break when you shot the lads a message to check on their state:

you: how r u all doing? 👀

By the time you came back from lunch, you hadn’t gotten a reply to your text… And normally that wouldn’t worry you…

If it weren’t for the fact they’re bunked down in your flat because they’re all injured or sick.

You went back to work with your phone in your pocket, patiently waiting a text from them…

you: pls tell me ur alive

Even with that message, it still took another hour and a half for an answer to come.

You were about to jump ship and go home early by then, when Johnny answered you.

Johnny: souo you: what? Johnny: soup Johnny: [1 Video Attachment]

The video you got was not one you expected.

Firstly, it was a very zoomed in 10 seconds of one of your metal pots with a heeping quantity of chicken noodle soup boiling in it.

Then, the camera panned over to display Kyle, John and Simon sprawled on the couch, head’s dangling back over the edge, snoring away.

“We made soup… bonnie.” Johnny said from behind the camera, his voice groggy and dragging, a consequence of the strong painkillers he had been taking for the last 3 days after his gunshot.

“Gonna have seconds… it’s so good…” He announced in a conspiratory tone and shushed the video before he finished the video.

How they managed to force themselves to stand up and stay awake long enough to cook a whole pot worth of soup, you have no idea.

But, hey, at least they were alive. And that eased your worries.

And so, you got back to work, finishing your work day.

Coming back to work, you were surprised to find the flat in a similar state as when you left, which was surprising considering you expected a mess of dishes and food left for you to clean.

The boys had also moved from the couch and to the bedroom, their snores and heavy breaths coming from down the hall, as well as the sound of the shower running.

You closed the door carefully behind yourself, took off your shoes and padded over to the kitchen with the little shopping bag worth of things you bought after work.

Just as you’re about to start putting things in the fridge and cupboards, a figure show up at the kitchen door, making you jump a bit and huff a breath of surprise.

Turning to look at him, eyes wide and startled, you come face-to-face with a glistening wet Kyle wrapped in your last clean towel. There you go, needing to do more laundry again.

“Hi, Kyle… Didn’t hear you come in.” You admitted with a smile as you looked at him.

“Hey, lovie… How was work?” He murmured as he approached you and kissed you softly on the forehead. He certainly seemed a bit more mobile than yesterday when you put him to bed.

“It was good… I see you boys made yourselves right at home, huh?” You gestured vaguely to the pot of soup on the back of the stove, lidded to keep for later.

“Yeah… John had the idea… Sent Soap to the shops to get the chicken and the carrot and all…” He trailed off as he nuzzled himself against you, an arm wrapped around your waist as he rubbed his nose against the crown of your head.

“I see… He was able to carry everything one handed?” You asked playfully, earning a chuckle from Kyle.

“Surprisingly yes…” He trailed off and smiled as he lowered his head to steal a soft peck from your lips.

“What about cooking? Who did that?” You asked playfully as you returned the kiss, then, slipped away from his arm wrapped around you. You resumed putting things away in the cupboards and fridge.

“We took turns…” Kyle admitted a bit sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “Every 10 minutes we’d switch spots with each other and sit on the couch…” He trailed off and chuckled.

“I see… I can imagine how that went… the four of you lot wobbling back and forth between the kitchen and the sofa… leaning your head on the cupboard because of the pain while you TRIED to shred chicken and stir the soup and all?” You joked.

“It was miserable… But the soup’s really good…” Kyle admitted.

“Yeah, bet it is… Johnny sent me a text about it…” You added with a chuckle. “Now how about you dry yourself up and get dressed before you catch something, hm?”

“Or you could warm me up instead…” Kyle quipped and winked at you.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @cod-z , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @xxshadowbabexx

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

#ikea writes 💚#it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #141 x reader

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plussizefantasia · 8 months

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Unsure Hearts

Read Part One Here: Fluttering Hearts

Warnings: Reader gets grabbed, alcohol, I think that's it tbh

an: heyyyy... sorry I was MIA, lots of stuff going on I'll post an update about it soon. In the meantime enjoy part two of the Kili x reader fic from Flufftober. I think this will be a five-part fic including an epilogue and the next two parts are already underway. I've also got some requests ready to be edited and posted soon. Thank you for bearing with me, much love <3

Kili Durin x Human!Soulmate!reader

Word Count: 1.8K

Thorin was getting worried, Kili had become somewhat of a ghost story over the past month. He had assumed that his nephew was simply doing his duty. Kili had volunteered to be the envoy between Dale and Erebor for the discussions of armament and training. However, that treaty was signed a week ago, and said envoy position was no longer needed. So why in all of Arda was Kili still going to Dale every day? The young prince left as soon as he was finished with his daily tasks and didn’t return to the mountain until well after the sun had set. Thorin was not worried for his nephew's safety, after all, Kili was an excellent warrior and could take care of himself, no, Thorin was worried for Kili’s heart.

Fili had also noticed his brother’s absence but the blonde prince had always been a bit more perceptive than his surly uncle. Fili had noticed that Kili was missing, but he also noticed that every time he returned to the mountain it was with the most dopey grin that he had ever seen. A grin that he recognized, for it had also graced his face a few months ago when he met his beloved Alma. Fili would bet his beard on it, Kili was in love.

You on the other hand were getting more and more annoyed each time the brown-haired dwarf walked through the front door. He was charming sure, and polite. But he stared. At you. The whole time he was there. And he was there a lot. His attempts to engage you in conversation were far and few between, the few times he was able to grab your attention away from the bustling building he became tongue-tied the moment your eyes landed on his.

Kili didn’t understand why he couldn’t say more than a few words to you without choking on his words. Your eyes had to hold some kind of spell within them. They enchanted him and left him bewitched every time he caught their gaze. It left him frustrated, he had never had this much trouble with women before, why were you so different? Deep down he knew though, you weren’t just any woman. He was afraid though, afraid that naming what you were to him out loud would make it real. And when it is real, it can hurt you.

There weren’t very many stories on One’s where the love didn’t end up requited, either because it just simply never happened. Dwarves were incredibly stubborn creatures after all, and it was entirely possible that they just wore down their other half until some sort of connection formed. It was also possible that those unfortunate few who weren’t able to woo their other half died of broken hearts. The former was unlikely as Kili kept having to remind himself, he couldn’t die of a broken heart. Right?

He was determined tonight though, to find out definitively if the sparks he felt for you were just interest in the handsome woman from Bree, or if you truly were the other half of his soul. To do that though he would need to say more than a few words to you. The problem with that was that you seemed exceptionally busy tonight.

Busy you were, Brant had told you last night that he was going to be leaving today to go to visit family for some type of emergency.

“If the place is still standing when I get back, we’ll talk more about it becoming yours someday.” He had said. You were hoping that that ‘someday’ was sooner rather than later. Brant was getting up there in years. Just last week he had hurt himself trying to lift one of the barrels of ale that had been shipped in from the Iron Hills. You had been taking on more and more of his old tasks and to be completely honest, it felt like you did the job of an owner anyway, just without all the benefits.

You weren’t going to let the man down though, even if it did mean rushing back and forth all night trying to keep up with demand all by yourself.

“Another! Y/N,” was yelled in front the back of the room. Roland was a boisterous man who got along with everyone, he was only a year or two older than you and was currently on his eighth pint of the night. He had a large countenance and seemed to fill up whatever space he occupied, he was handsome but the more and more he drank the less his looks mattered. Usually, this is the point in the night where he starts bordering more on unruly rather than fun-loving. Nevertheless, he was a paying customer and as long as he could still walk on his own out the doors, you weren’t going to say no to his money.

You grabbed another pint glass and poured one for him, balancing it and several other drinks on a tray. You steeled yourself with a deep breath before running back out into the fray.

Walking close to the stool he was sat on you leaned slightly over him and placed his pint down on the counter beside him. He was engrossed in the conversation between the large group of men, something about the best way to skin a buck, you weren’t really listening. As you grabbed his empty glass to take back to the kitchen to be washed, his large hand encircled your wrist none too gently.

“A pint is a wonderful thing, but it is even more delicious when served by a beautiful lady,” He whispered into your ear. You grit your teeth and roughly pull your hand back.

“Now, Roland, what have we said about touching things that don’t belong to you? Huh? Touch the wrong thing and you might just lose your hand.” You spit back at him. Cutting your eyes up at the mounted swords that rest above the fireplace only a few steps from where the two of you are. “I’d hate to have to clean those swords, they are sharp.” You look back into his eyes, satisfied with the fear that you see within them. You stand back up and place your tray back upon your shoulder.

“Anything else I can get you gents?” You question the other men scattered about the space. Silence reigned over the air for a few moments.

“Alrighty then.”

A pint here, a glass of wine there, and two hot meals delivered later, your tray was empty and everyone in the place seemed momentarily satisfied.

Letting out a breath you lean up against the counter.

“What did you say to him?” A somewhat familiar voice pipes up beside you. You turn your head towards the voice. It's the dwarf prince, and you are once again struck with just how handsome he is. You are also struck with the familiar feeling of annoyance, of course, he picked now to talk to you. Just when you had finally afforded yourself a break.

“Hmm?” You raise a singular eyebrow at him. “Who?”

“That large and very drunk man in the back, I couldn’t hear what you said but I could see the look on his face. It was similar to my brother’s when our mother would scold him for forgetting his manners.”

“That’s not too far off actually, Roland over there got a little too comfortable and touched something that didn’t belong to him, I had to remind him of the rules.”

“And what exactly did he touch that was so forbidden?” The prince smirks and laughs.

You smirk back and lift a glass to your lips before uttering one single word, “Me.”

All of the laughter drained from Kili’s face, “He touched you?” His voice had gotten much lower, his eyes darkened right before you.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m going to stop you right there Your Highness, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I’ve been doing it for years. I don’t need some man, no matter how handsome he is coming to defend my honor every time I’m even remotely slighted. The trail of bodies will get far too long.” You stare into his eyes as you speak, putting all the righteous fury you’ve got stored inside into each word.

Seconds tick by before he opens his mouth to speak again.

“You think I’m handsome?”

“I think that we have bigger problems if that is the only thing you got from that.” You took another sip.

“No, no, no I got the point, you don’t need a big strong man to come to your rescue. Lucky for you, I am not big.”

The laugh that sprung from the back of your throat caught you off guard, you slap a hand over your mouth in an impossible effort to catch it and shove it back inside. He was funny, he had never been funny before.

Kili liked your laugh even though it was closer to a snort than an actual laugh, and he would be foolish to ignore the way his heart picked up at the thought that he was the one who made you laugh.

“You- I- I have never heard of a dwarf who makes fun of themselves, in my limited experience your lot are very prideful.”

“Not as prideful as some other races, I should think.”

“No, you’re not nearly as prideful as the pointy-eared bastards who hole themselves up in that accursed forest.” Your words held a healthy amount of rage as well as teasing.

“I sense that there is a story there somewhere.” Kili raised an eyebrow, mimicking your face from earlier. He was desperately trying not to think about the fact that this was the longest conversation the two of you had had up to date.

“One that I’m going to need a lot more liquid courage before divulging, I’m afraid.”

“We can make that happen.” Kili wiggled his eyebrows and pointed at the bottles of liquor behind the bar that separated the two of you.

At that very moment, a shout from the rowdy bunch of men in the back rang out, calling for another round.

“Duty calls your highness, but perhaps I will tell you that story… another time.” You winked at him and grabbed for your tray again, beginning to load it up once more. If that is how conversations with the dwarf prince went all the time, you wouldn’t mind having them more often.

You walked away before Kili could come up with a response, but he was more certain than he ever had been that your heart called to his. Why else would the very sight of you walking away feel like his heart was leaving too?

Read Part 3 here: Troubled Hearts

tags: @bunnybabe-babydoll @kokochanel111 @shiinata-library @oneiratxxia10

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piratecaptainscaptainpirates · 10 months

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I was surprised when rewatching both seasons today to notice how little worth everyone assigned to their lives at the beginning of the show.

It's obvious with Stede "Do I want to live? I dunno, probably" Bonnet and Edward "haven't tried dying yet, maybe we should do that" Teach over there, but once I started looking for it, I was shocked how often it turns up.

Talk of death is ever-present throughout s1. The very first thing we hear is Frenchie singing about how a pirate's life is short. One of Olu's reasons he gives to Lucius for not mutinying on Stede at the end of the pilot is "we'll all be dead soon, might as well enjoy it while it lasts." The indigenous people they meet in ep 2 remind Olu multiple times that Stede's gonna get them all killed. Jim talks blithely about killing the man who killed their family - "we live in a state of nature, grow up!" We get the sense life is fuckin' cheap -

But over the first season, there's a shift. Pete started out talking in the pilot about how he "should have 20 kills by now" and says killing "is like breathing" to his fantasy version of Blackbeard in s1e2, but by s1e6 he's visibly deeply shaken when Lucius almost dies. "I'm used to death...but not your death." Stede screaming that he doesn't want to die in s1e9 is such a huge marker of that shift, because he's finally living a life where he feels happy and loved and valued.

Take all of that, and put it into contrast with Jim saying in s2e2 that "there used to be a time when life meant something on this ship." It sets up such a nice contrast, because all the death Ed's crew have to deal with at the beginning of s2 isn't weird by pirate standards, but suddenly it's become weird for these pirates. Ed's suicidal behavior and Frenchie saying that "we've been living moment to moment for a while now, it's kinda nice to have a deadline" are terribly sad to us, because these pirates had a time when they learned to value their lives.

Stede Bonnet, being his cringefail, bitchy, unceasingly kind little self, built a community where life was allowed to mean something. It's about queer joy, about queer love, about finding community and finding reasons to love being alive with one another as we try to become the versions of ourselves we want to be. Fucking beautiful.

#ofmd #our flag means death #breaking: show called “our flag means death” includes death as a major theme. more at 11

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poppystheories · 4 months

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Tyki’s reaction to being slapped fascinates me. This guy gets slapped by a helpless exorcist that's fully at his mercy and he kinda likes it. It wasn’t a weak slap either! Despite the state Allen’s in, it left a mark! But Tyki just laughs it off. Settles down to chat. Lights himself a cigarette.

Let’s face it. It’s charming.

I really like the contrast between Allen’s first meeting with Road and his first meeting with Tyki. Road had no intention of killing Allen from the start, and she wasn't really there to destroy any Innocence, but she gets incredibly rough with him: nailing his arm to the wall, stabbing his eye out, making a pincushion out of him with her candles. She fully delights in the bodily harm.

Tyki’s here to kill Allen and destroy his Innocence. That’s already decided. But he doesn’t brutalize him at any point.

Because Tyki's so casual, you keep thinking: hey, Allen’s going to get out of this totally fine. Someone is going to show up and save him. Lenalee should be looking for him. We haven’t seen the others in a while, so they must be on their way. Someone is going to arrive in the nick of time to save Allen, and everything’s going to be fine. We still have to get to Japan, after all.

But no one comes.

The scene progresses. Tyki keeps talking, he shows off his power a bit, tries to play with Allen like he played with the others. Tries to make him scared, maybe beg a little. He’s fooling around with the prey he’s already caught, like a cat.

But Allen's not scared, and Tyki backs off. The actual physical torture isn't the appeal for him, so if his victim isn't scared there's no reason to get violent.

So now you're thinking, wow, this guy is gonna regret taking his time when someone finally arrives! What a classic villain fumble; failing your mission because you were too busy monologuing.

But no one comes.

Tyki pulls out the card the Earl gave him. And you find out Tyki’s been searching for Allen. Specifically.

That’s bad, but it's okay. It'll be fine. Someone is going—

You turn the page, and Tyki is ripping Allen’s arm off. No warning, no posturing. One second Allen is fine—someone is going to save him, any second now, Tyki hasn’t even hurt him yet—and the next Allen’s fucking Innocence is on the forest floor.

Tyki keeps talking, smiling. Nothing about his demeanor has changed.

He destroys Allen's Innocence. Like it's nothing.

And at this point, you start to realize, maybe no one is coming. Or if they are, it’s already too late.

Tim gets sent away. He can go get help. But, now Allen’s truly alone with the assassin sent to kill him—if anyone’s coming, it has to be now! Where is everyone?!

Right on cue, you finally get to see the other characters.

And they’re still on the fucking ship.

Then maybe Lenalee—

No. Lenalee’s also at the ship. Tyki has his hand hovering over Allen’s chest and Lenalee’s at the goddamn ship.

No one is coming, you realize. No one was ever coming.

And just like that, Tyki kills Allen. Intimately, with a smile. He wants it to be slow, but quiet. He wants Allen to feel how helpless he really is.

Tyki's a serial killer: we've seen him stage his victims before, like leaving Daisya hanging like some kind of grisly ornament. We saw the state he left the General in.

Allen, however, gets more artistic treatment; he's by the far the favorite of Tyki's victims so far, and Tyki doesn't want to disturb the pretty picture he's already made too much, but it needs a little extra flair, doesn't it? A more personal touch.

So he scatters his own gift to Allen over him: a little something to suit his white hair and black coat and red scars, and the last thing we see is the black crescent of despair. Put there quite deliberately; it is not a typical image to appear on a Joker card.

Volume 6 ends, just like that.

It really is a merciless ending. You can't believe that the protagonist will really die here, but even if he somehow survives, his Innocence has been destroyed. The entire scene is built around your expectations as a reader that the protagonist can't die, so someone will save him, or there will be some other interference.

But no. No one was ever coming to save Allen; not this time.

And that? That has consequences.

#allen #tyki #vol 6 #reread #dgm #d gray man #allen walker #tyki mikk #i love love love these chapters

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coco-loco-nut · 4 months

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Down Bad

pairing: carlos sainz x reader

summary: a heartbreak like no other

a/n: it’s super short, sorry

masterlist ttpd masterlist

________

You should've known better. Really. You aren't the kind of girl that a hot, 29-year-old, Spanish Formula One driver would like. Of course, you are beautiful, but apparently not enough for him. His attention was fleeting, leaving you just another one of his conquests in a long string of girls like you.

You met Carlos while interning in Madrid during the Winter. At the time you didn't realize he was love-bombing you, only to drop you cold once your internship ended a month later and you went home, practically shipped away by him. For a moment you knew, or thought you knew, extraordinary love, but it wasn't real. Was anything real anymore?

“Sweetheart, you need to stop moping,” your mom says from the doorway of your bedroom. “You know I love you, but if I didn’t know you better, I’d think you are a moody teenager,” you know your mom means well, but the last bit struck hard.

“Fine, I’m going for a run,” you groan, rolling out of bed. She leaves your room, seemingly appeased. It doesn’t take you long to get dressed, lace up your trainers, and play your angsty playlist through your headphones.

You take the path you know by heart, the one you take when you need to be away from people. When you are sufficiently alone, you let it all out.

Crying and running may not be the wisest idea, but it’s cathartic to you. You stop when you get to the meadow and lay down, staring at the cloudy sky. As the music plays, you yell the lines that hit too close to home. I might just die, it would make no difference. Fuck you if I can’t have us.

Fuck. You need to get over him. Everything just feels so hollow now, like you were stripped of everything you are and ever were. You just want to talk to your friends about it, but you know them. They will call you nuts, saying that it never really happened, that Carlos Sainz would never date you.

So instead, you lay in this field, thinking about when you were heaven struck. You might just not get up, stay down while you are down bad for someone who doesn’t even care about your existence anymore.

Maybe you were abducted by an alien to another, then returned back to this spot. That could explain it. Explain why you are feeling the angst of a scorned teenage girl, when you have more emotional maturity than that. You are 22 after all.

It’s how you imagine it feels like to lose the touch of a twin flame. I guess being love bombed then abandoned would do that to you.

The more you think about it, the more the alien analogy seems to fit. It’s like he beamed down from a ship, did a hostile takeover on your heart, the alien encounters closer and closed as each day passed. And you let them happen, willingly.

It started with a hello, then coffee, then a stroll, then a lunch, then a drive, then a dinner, then a night spent together, two, three, four, it spiraled. He did everything he could to worm his way into your heart, only for him to say it’s over.

Maybe you will take the ship, go to some planet and find an alien who can understand all of it. How dare he do everything he could to make you fall in love, only to leave you stranded. How is that romantic? You were in love, and fuck him if you can’t have him because of his actions.

You stare at the sky, music pumping through your headphones, willing the sky to part and reveal the alien spaceship that will beam you up to it in a cloud of dust and take you away.

Minutes pass until you realize your efforts are worthless, you mentally wave goodbye to the ship that carries him (and his pet names and his perfect dates) with it. Shedding a few tears on your run home, you start rebuilding yourself with each step. The hurt and pain slowly being chipped away.

No man with EVER make you feel this down bad again.

#f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #carlos sainz imagines #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz #the tourtured poets department

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linddzz · 9 months

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Latest idea floating around in my head: a twist on the Hob saving Morpheus from the time-out ball, except that's where they first met each other.

Hob's still immortal, it's just that Death was the one who came and gave him the deal of meeting every 100 years

(is this also bc I'd love Death being Hob's centennial buddy? Her being way less reserved and straight up telling him who she is. Her delight at his delighting over life. The rage in him when Eleanor and Robyn die. Death took them and she wouldn't even say anything to him when she did it. Also I'd like to see him just immediately choke and squirm like a bastard as soon as he starts explaining his new shipping business to her in 1789. Yes and hell yes gimme Hobsie and Death as bros.)

So Hob is trying out new stuff again. He's never tried out being a magus and gets himself in as a member of Burgess' order and eventually an acolyte.

And then he's introduced to the "devil" that Burgess keeps in the dungeon. He's to help study up on strengthening the wards around the sphere and all that. And boy is he deeply, super uncomfortable with the sight of this frail man trapped in a cage.

("Don't let his pretty face fool you." Burgess will tell him, "the thing is a demon who would destroy us all if given half a chance."

To be fair, Morpheus does not help his case at all and his expression clearly says "you fuckin bet I will")

And Hob is Hob. So while he's working on studying up on wards (which so happens to involve a lot of careful, detailed study of the wards around the sphere) he's chatting at the thing in it. He complains about the boss, talks about the War, tells the demon about his day while the demon either glares at him or makes a hilariously big show of not paying attention. Sometimes Hob straight up shirks work (with a winking "you won't tell the boss right?") And just reads books.

And he nearly shrieks in surprise when he's reading some new novel called The Hobbit out loud and looks up to find the demon watching and obviously interested. So of course Hob is gonna keep reading him stories and keep studying those binding spells super closely.

And ok that's where I gotta admit the story doesn't have a solid conclusion in my head yet (besides obviously Hob is gonna bust Dream out and then get kissed a LOT) but I do have one bit where Morpheus first talks to him and of course it's just cryptic weird shit. Because Morpheus has started watching this shit-wizard who won't shut the fuck up back and can tell that something is OFF about him.

So just imagine Hob is yammering away about how he thinks the masters kid and the gardener have something going on, and he nearly shits himself when the "demon" presses a hand against the glass and says

"Death has touched you. I see it now. My siblings marks upon you. Is that what you are here for? To report to them? To let them see how low their family has come? So they do know what has come of me then, and they have sent you to chatter away and truly make it clear that they will do nothing."

Hob's just like. "WHAT?? SIBLINGS?! You TALK??! Hang on you know Death???!" But Morpheus already is back to curling in on himself in a furious pissy sulk

#dreamling #fic cooking #i imagine after Dreams outburst theres a lot more talking going on #idk if i have this fleshed out enough to fully write i just liked the idea of Hob reading Tolkien to the thing in the ball #and Morpheus being wooed with stories #the tension is ruined by me knowing that all it took was smearing the circle kdjfkd #maybe Hob purposely falls asleep to let Morpheus get out via his dreams

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thorough-witness-enjoyer · 2 months

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In the face of recent news about our beloved Destiny, I think it’s more important than ever for us as a community to come together and support each other in numerous ways.

It’s been a very hard week for all of us, especially those who lost their jobs and outlet for their passion in mass lay offs. Losing a position that allowed you to craft magnificent stories alongside some of the most ambitious people in the gaming industry, especially in worrying economic circumstances, must be excruciating to deal with and I wish the best for all those laid off from Bungie.

For us fans, it hurts more than anything to see the game you care so much for get put in headlines for how little that care is shared amongst the people responsible for making decisions on it. I’ve been into Destiny since it first dropped, making it the love of my life for nearly two-thirds of my whole existence , and to hear about how it’s just another product to be sold when it’s everything and more to me is just despairing. I wanted to become a writer and concept artist to create a game for others that made them feel as cared for as I did when I played Destiny and now I’m sitting here seeing all the people who helped foster that feeling be treated as another expenditure.

It’s awful, a lot of us are feeling really uninspired and betrayed at the moment, not sure we even want to see what will happen to this masterpiece of a game in the hands of the current executives. We are also dearly missing the developers, artists, writers, and more who made Destiny more than a fps looter shooter.

But it is times like these where we are torn and confused that we must uplift one another and not let the bitter taste of Bungie’s actions make us speak with hostility. This is not about decisions on whether to support Bungie or the actual game, but about refocusing on what truly makes Destiny enjoyable to so many.

Its world is immersive with care put into every story and that clearly shows in just how eager fans are to create masterpieces for it. It was never playing the game or the notoriety that kept me coming back for more, but the joy of creation I could share with others.

It stings to see a disinterest in nursing the potential of the Destiny universe from the executives with motivations other than monetary gain, but when the executives won’t care, we can. There are still employees at Bungie who adore their work and we can continue to support them by speaking up against horrible industry practices and show that we won’t abandon their efforts to make Destiny what it is.

Make ocs, write fanfictions, follow the former employees wherever they go, draw til your heart is overflowing, join Discords, roleplay, share headcanons, create aus with friends, do whatever keeps Destiny alive and flourishing for you!

Destiny will never die to me, even when it’s long forgotten and the servers shut down, because Destiny made me who I am and I intend to repay that gift an infinite amount of times over. The characters and universe will be alive and well to me until I die, regardless of the fate of the game and Bungie.

So go out and prove that Destiny’s themes of the power of community and hope are more than just morals behind a screen, that they are life changing messages that we will carry on despite hopeless news!!

Reblog charming artists, message people about ships you enjoy, leave questions and tags that contribute to conservations, write essays about what Destiny means to you!!

My messages and inbox for questions are always open if anyone would like to talk (I’m trying to get better at answering them, even if they are months late)! You are all welcome here and I want to start reblogging and liking more freely even if those things scare me sometimes!

We can decide our fates and we can decide the fate of Destiny’s presence in our lives as well! We can choose to care when others won’t and refuse to make our enjoyment debatable!! In troubling times, we should be able to reach out into the dark and find hands to hold onto tight!!

#destiny 2 #destiny #destiny the game #d2 #destiny art #destiny concept art #destiny fanfiction #destiny community #destiny fanart #destiny oc #destiny au #I need to stop yapping #I love you all so much I love the people I’ve met in this community #destiny the game you are

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twost3ps · 4 months

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This boy has been in the drafts for like a month

I'm feeling like I want an Adam sandwich with two slices of Morningstar brothers so you guys are going to hear me out on my LucifurxAdamxMicheal au (and I mean it in a they both share Adam in the end :3 ) In general I'm calling the ship ✨️GuitarStars✨️ boooyaaa I feel like there might be a better name for it but idk

(Also I’ve noticed there is complaint for guitarhero in the adamsapple tag. I'm tagging this post as adamsapple this once of it but post related to this with both brothers will be counted as #guitarstars.

I also completely agree with the complaints. There is a problem with the tagging so this is a very quick reminder to please tag properly!!! Ik it's not meant to be harmful bcz most guitarhero shippers are also adamsapple as well. But i will admit there has been a lot of unecessary tagging (i am guilty of this im so sorry qwq) so please be mindful!!!! Ik this post might go agaisnt that but its just this post i swear sorrryyyy)

ANYWAYS The actual au:

For now I'm calling the au- Angels on My Shoulder (I can't think of a good title rn grrr)

quick sketchs so you get the idea

General prompt:

Adam respawns as a human with all his memories. He lives a normal happy life until he turns 21 when two angels (Micheal and Lucifer) appear on his shoulders with a mission: try convince him into making certain decisions so that he ensures a spot in heaven or hell.

That doesn’t work out very well because adam hates how theyre forcing their ideals onto him one way or another. He doesnt really want to think about heaven or hell anytime soon. Heaven or hell seems like complete torture to him. The fact that he didn't like either of them before he respawned doesn't help.

A revelation happens and both brothers realize it's not gonna work on their terms so they're gonna have to earn his favor first before trying anything. One of the ways is talking it out beacuse adam had expressed several times over that, while at first it was funny, their bickering needs to die because it's getting annoying.

They talk it out. They make up. It takes a whole but they become close again. They try to earn adams favor in the meantime and between time. Everything is at peace. As time goes on though, the wooing is no longer for just adams favor, its now romantic. Both develop feelings for Adam. And since now they made up both made up they are very willing to share him.

The og goal is completely lost. Gone with the dirt and dust. And now what was once a competition to get Adam into heaven or hell has spiraled into heaven and hell trying to get into Adam. If you catch my drift.

Do they get in there?

God bless they do

(Ps they start off as small little mascots but then later grow into their normal form and an added human form. Adam Prefers the small mascots though)

My in-depth of the au that is very subject to change I just wanted to rant is under the cut o3o

So when Adam had died, he respawned onto earth. Born into a normal family and all that jazz. He lives life as normal and has comes to terms with it. He actually loves his life. He doesn’t have to walk on eggshells anymore and lives as normal. He’s not insanely good or insanely bad, he’s just a guy.

A guy who is very happy with himself. After graduating he becomes a national park ranger.

Heaven and hell both know of adams soul, but contant cant be initiated till he turns 21 (It was recognized because I wanna say 21 would be the age Adam technically was in his creation during Eden, and thats when he can process divinity without his body tweaking as if he were any other mortal. Souls grow along with age and all that drama, adams soul in eden was strong enough to stand the sheer power of a seraphims presence) both sides made it their immediate duty to guide him to their path.

Sera wanted Adam in heaven to clear her mind- to have heaven back to perfection with the original perfection creation (also to have her son back, but she's not ready to unpack that for herself.)

Lucifur wanted adam as he could punish him directly for hurting Charlie and her friends. A little tiny part of him also really wants Adam all for himself grrryrvgrvsgrs

So both heaven and hell spawn a representative guide for Adam to follow once his soul is ready to guide. Lucifur nominated himself and Sera nominated Micheal who agreed.

For some reason (probably amix of earth and god or sumn), Adam's presence nulls the powers of both angels and devils. So the first time they appear, Micheal and lucifur appear as small tiny mascots on Adam’s shoulder.

(Adam has flicked both of them away several times and they can't really do anything about it other than fly back and try again)

Both sides had the same idea and Adam connects the dots very fast on why they are here without them telling him. And he's pissed.

His normal life is now ruined.

Adam actually really hates both Lucifur and Micheal. Lucifur for obvious reasons and Micheal because he's just so nitpickey. Micheal had trained Adam in the past and that guy was brutal. Adam understood part of it was with Lucifurs falling and their brother thing and whatever but god daymn bro needed to chill. If Sera was on him like a hawk Micheal had been on him like a spy camera from space monitored by the secret service. In a way, both devalued adams emotions to some capacity so Adam hated both of them equally. Nothing Adam could do about it though because he was human.

In the beginning, both micheal and lucifur kept it really formal between them. Its strained but neither brother imposes on what the other one advises. That doesn’t stay for too long. The formalities between Lucifur and Micheal die pretty quickly. Under 2 months tops. While both are very old and very much adults, they are, first and foremost, SIBLINGS.

Both begin talking over eachother, butting in, shoving eachother. It's like pre eden all over again between the two on who is better. Most of the time they argue about the most random topics forgetting their og purpose.

After one year of enduring both of their bs, Adam feels like he has a dog and a cat rather than two otherworldly gaurdians monitoring his every move.

He doesn't complain though. After a while he's learned to tune them out. He also finds it incredibly entertaining watching the literal devil fight with the a high angel while being incredibly small. And with no powers it resorts to petty slapping. He's gotten pretty used to it....

Except when it comes to them making him choose what actions he takes.

They're always on him about everything. It sucks so much ass. Everything Adam tries to do something good, Lucifur tells him that it's stupid, that he should be more selfish and blocks Adam. He keeps on telling him that deep down adam really isnt all that, and why should he try and do good when everyone knows that hes not really that. Micheal does the same thing in reverse. When Adam does something considered bad, Micheal raves on how he'll go to hell. That Adam was made in perfection and must reach that perfection. That heaven is waiting for him and is available only if he keeps on doing good.

It makes Adam so mad when they remember what they're trying to do.

Adam doesn’t listen to either angel because after living part of his life as just a normal person, he’s come to realize he doesn’t want to think about living life wondering if he’s going to heaven or hell. Adam does not want to face eternal punishment or be in hell. He still really hates sinners, and while the blood hungry killer part of him died with his second life, he still thinks that the majority of those sinners are disgusting to say the least. But he doesn’t want to walk eggshells to be virtuous enough to enter heaven. Heaven, for all its greatness got tiring after 1000s of years. He's grown tired- already hated hell and grew to hate heaven. He doesn’t want to think about either, he doesn’t want those ideas to deter him from choosing what he wants to do. He wants to make both good and bad decisions without an angel watching over him. He wants to be able to make both good and bad decisions. He makes this very clear after a breakdown.

It becomes less of a competition over making Adam choose and more of getting into Adam’s favor after that because their first tactic is clearly not working.

So both agree that they will have to earn adams favor before making him do anything.

But in order to get adams favor both have to learn to get along because it had become one of Adam's biggest gripes. Funny at first, but the bickering and arguments got tiring after the course of a few years.

So they do attempt to make up. Genuinely. It's hard and its tough. Theres a lot there to unpack. But both jnkw that if they don't do this Adam is not going to listen to either of them because getting along has go go both ways.

And they do make up.

By the time Adam is in his early 30s, the close proximity and a lot of Adam yelling to sort it out, allowed for some slow but needed time to talk it out. They would do it infront of Adam who was the mediator, but they mostly would talk when Adam falls asleep as both watch over his dreams (creepos imo). They begin talking about their decision and their lives. Both brothers do acknowledge that they miss each other and that they have committed several wrongs with each other. And soon the fighting turns to light banter and life is good. They still try to earn adams favor but it's a lot more calmer. Everything's more calm.

Atleast that's what adam thought at first.

While bonding and stuff, they both come to the mutual agreement that they could share Adam. So they both freak it and try to woo Adam together.

And then now it's a matter of Adam freaking out because while before, both his little shoulder angels used to argue, they their bickering distracted them enough that Adam could chill and leave.

Now they're both bothering him and helping eachother try to get in adams pants. They're tag teaming him now.

It doesn't take long for their combined forces to make Adam cave.

The og goal is kinda gone. They still put their input but adams become more open it because they're less demanding and he feels like their goals are more aligned to his wants than theirs. Lucifur and Micheal also come to kinda realize that where Adam ends is where Adam ends. They're going to have to just suck it up when the time comes but they'll enjoy sharing while it lasts.

It gets pretty domestic and slice of life here. So the years following is a mix of sibling bonding and having ✨️the rizz✨️ on Adam.

Lucifur talks about hell and Charlie. Micheal talks about heaven and lucifur and his siblings. (Both Micheal and Lucifur arent permannt shoulder angels, they can actually pop away if they wanted to) Adam talks about his life and stuff.

When Adam eventually dies, his soul is neither here or there (because getting absolutely boned by twin morningstars does not make you virtuous or sinful it just makes you a bad bitch) his soul spawns in limbo. He’s deprived from salvation but doesn’t endure the horrors of hell. It’s basically a decent sided garden with a basic house in the middle where the garden ends is white space. On opposite ends of the garden are two doors, one goes to hell and the other to heaven. Turns out, the doors are connected to Micheal and Lucifer’s homes, but only appeared in them once Adam died. He’s allowed outside limbo into heaven or hell of his choosing for a limited amount of time and visites Micheal and Lucifer when he can. On the flip side Micheal and Lucifer can freely walk in and out of the place. I don’t want Adam to be lonely once he enters limbo so Cain and Abel are there because they died before heaven was ready and when he’ll just started.

So that’s pretty much it :3 kinda

incomplete but doesn't have everything I wanna say

Also

I will reiterate what I said at the beginning. I love you my guitarhero ppl but they are right in the tagging. It comes from a place of love so just be mindful!! Also, this is from me, sometimes the adamsapple vs guitarhero thing gets repetitive. It's a very common post ive seen. And I mean in general not just leaking into the adamsapple tag. That might just be me, but I do see it pretty often. Love it but that with the tagging does get a bit old. Really, the problem is a mix of incorrect tagging and the same trope. There's a lot more to the ship, especially with Micheal being free reign rn, so there is a lot of opportunity to show their relationship besides comparing it to Adamsapple.

I feel like somone who ships guitarhero also had to say something so yeyeye

Again, no offense to anyone guitarhero isbmy love but just please be mindful guys o3o

If you read all that thank you lol

#hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel #guitarhero #adamsapple #michael x adam #adam x lucifer #hazbin hotel michael #adam hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin hotel #my au #guitarstars #if i miss tag guys pls dont be afraid to tell me #even old posts

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the-badger-mole · 2 months

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She knows

Zuko had thought his feelings for Katara were his secret. He'd never spoken to anyone about them, and he hadn't been treating her any differently since he'd figured himself out. His feelings were his burden alone, and he intended to keep it that way. Still, she knows ricocheted through his mind. His heart seemed to beat in time to words in his brain as he tried to process everything. The clamoring of the soldiers rushing up the stone stairs; the sound of the stolen air ship coming up behind him; the feel of Katara's lips on his.

Her fingers were clenched tight around the collar of his shirt. Zuko had just come to his senses enough to reach for her waist, intent on pulling her closer, when suddenly Katara shoved him backwards off of the ledge of the broken balcony. An airbender would've caught themselves and vaulted back onto the stone legdge. Zuko was no airbender, though. Their airbender was...someplace else. Zuko wasn't entirely sure of where. So when Zuko landed on the deck of the airship with a bone rattling thump, shock kept him there for the time it took him to refill his lungs. By the time he scrambled to his feet, the ship was already pulling away. Zuko had just enough time to see Katara turn from him to face his father's soldiers. She was outnumbered by at least a dozen, but she stood tall and firm, and even from behind, Zuko could see the determination in her stance. She would fight and die to make sure that he got away safely.

"No!" Zuko shouted. He threw himself at the railing, intent on getting back to her by any means necessary. He would leap from the deck and figure out the rest on his way back. Two sets of strong hands kept him from enacting his plan.

"Let me go!" he demanded pulling against the hold on him. "I'm not leaving her!"

"Zuko!" Sokka shouted. He and Suki pulled hard throwing him against the wall of the ship. "Stop!"

"Turn back!" Zuko half demanded, half pleaded. "We have to go back for her!" He was met with Sokka and Suki's twin grimaces.

"We can't," Suki said, grimly. "We have to get you to safety."

"I don't care about my safety!" Zuko insisted. "I can't leave her behind! Sokka, she's your sister! How can you just-oof!" Sokka's punch didn't hurt so much as it caught Zuko off guard.

"Don't you dare!" Sokka growled. He stood over Zuko, rage radiating from him almost tangibly. "Don't you dare imply I'm not just as worried about Katara as you are. If it wasn't for the fact that we need you to survive the war, I would've thrown you back to them to save her in a heartbeat. But the next best thing I can do is make sure my sister's sacrifice isn't in vain. That mean's getting you to safety and making sure you don't do anything stupid like trying to take on a whole troop of firebending soldiers.

A thousand arguments flew through Zuko's mind. They were superimposed over the image of Katara facing those same solders in his mind. Everything in him was demanding they turn around that instant and rescue Katara. His gambit for the throne was meaningless in comparison to Katara's safety. So what if she had willingly sacrificed herself? So what if he were summarily executed by his father, or even his sister? His own life meant nothing if Katara weren't in it.

Sokka was right, though. Zuko was loathe to admit it, but he was right. Katara knew what she was doing, even if Zuko was certain she didn't understand the full consequence. She'd saved his life. Again. Impotent and helpless as he felt watching her do it, she'd done it willingly. She'd done it strategically. His heart railed against it, but his mind knew why she'd done it. He had the best claim to the throne, after all. They'd talked about it to exhaustion. He'd told Katara all his worries, and she'd calmed them with her certainty that he was the Fire Lord his nation deserved. He'd never gotten the chance to tell her that he though she was the Fire Lady his nation needed, though they didn't deserve her by a long shot. He'd never told her that though he didn't deserve her, he needed her. Like he needed water.

She knew, though. She knew his weakness, and she'd used it. Zuko could still feel the pressure of her lips on his. Could still feel the way her hand tightened on his collar as she prepared to shove him away even while she was pulling him closer. She knew what she could do to him even in the midst of battle.

"They probably won't kill her," Suki said quietly. Both Sokka and Zuko looked up sharply.

"What?" Sokka gasped.

"They probably won't kill her," Suki repeated. "She's too valuable a prisoner. The daughter of the Southern Water Tribe chief? The... the friend of Prince Zuko? She's useful. If she surrenders, she will have a fighting chance." Suki's mouth was pressed into a thin, grim line. She was upset, too, Zuko realized. Maybe almost as upset as Sokka and Zuko were. Only almost, though. Zuko couldn't imagine his future without Katara in it, and Sokka had always been his sister's protector. As Zuko met Sokka's eye across the deck, he knew the Water Tribe warrior had made the same decision he had. If Katara was alive, neither would rest until she was safe again. The details of their rescue mission would have to wait until they could discuss them in private, but they would be going after her.

#atla #zutara #zuko and sokka #buddy duo rescue mission #because zuko would never leave her behind or forget that she'd been captured #sokka's not letting this go either #anti maiko #because zuko IN CANON threw himself in harms way for his friends #but he completely forgot mai even existed after TBR #i'd like to use this scene in a fic #i just haven't figured out where to put it yet

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hotluncheddie · 11 months

Text

high masking autistic steve harrington follow on from this post

ao3

wc: 2.6k | rated: T | cw: description of a meltdown with semi aggressive stimms | tags: autistic steve harrington (and eddie and robin but this is about stevie), hurt/comfort, stobin soulmates, steddie, steve Harrington has shitty parents

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he failed. he graduated. but he failed. those unsaid words between him and his parents. some get said. the bad ones, about him, they get said. over again like he’s 5 and being told is behaviour isn’t acceptable. that how he is isn’t right. ‘shape up or ship out’, basically. steve knows he can’t go anywhere new, not right now. only freshly recovered, physically at least. mentally; he’s still unacceptable.

when steve works at scoops. it’s so fucking bright in there. so fucking bright, all day and he can’t focus and talking to people gets so much harder. it’s not like school where he can zone out in class and turn it on during lunch, in between, keep up his face with the people around him and sink back into his head during chemistry. no. now it’s all the time, customer after customer. that he has to talk to, put on a smile for, read so he gives them what they want and they leave happy. it’s exhausting. girls don’t like him anymore, they don’t react to him the same way. he doesn’t think he likes them much either though because they’re so much more annoying when it’s so fucking bright.

but robin (robin who cycles to work with sunglasses on and doesn’t take them off till she has too) she turns the lights down during open and close. so those couple hours, it’s not so bad. not so stressful. a little bit less loud.

after the mall burns down steve starts letting her in. tries too. she makes it obvious enough to him that she wants him there. she asks him to stay and calls him at night and he just wants to be enough for her. eventually he’d swallowed his pride and bolstered his courage and called her after a string of nightmares. asking her to stay the night. but then she was there, and it was like everything was thrown off. she was grating on his already freyed nerves but he didn’t know what to say. how to fix it without upsetting her.

but that night, a mirror of the mall bathroom played out in steves en-suite. steve had freaked. hidden. but she didn’t leave. and he tried to explain.

he needs her but he doesn’t know how to have her as a true friend. ‘i dunno how to talk to a girl if i don’t wanna date them. i uh, maybe, don’t really know how to talk to someone as myself. as a friend. sorry.’

‘well i don’t know how to talk to jocks so. same boat.’ and she has this glint in her eye. like she knows. and it’s okay.

because robin, she made it simple. she makes it easy. she says just ask and she’ll be honest and give him a yes or no. she’ll say if she can’t be touched right now, or if the movie he chose is pissing her the fuck off. and she wants the same from him. if the music is too loud, if she needs to let him not speak for a while. wants him honest and present and real. real friends. someone close. finally.

it’s rocky at first. she’s honest and he’s not used to it. it feel like criticism more often than not. makes him see red and lash out, like he was never able to with his parents. but he apologises and she stays. and he’s learning; that’s it’s okay, he’s not perfect and that means she’s knowing the real him. and she’s still his best friend even if he has to tell her to stop picking her nail polish off around him because it makes him want to die. and she laughs at him the first time she sees him in real recovery mode; hair not styled and he has on the only sweatshirt that ever feels good when he’s like this.

they lay on the floor in darkness and silence. it’s perfect. they share a tin of soup and a grilled cheese. it’s perfect.

being around robin as much as he is, its so new, having someone see so many parts of you. sometimes she laughs at him asking steve ‘why’d your voice change?’ but steve didn’t even know it had. he was, he was just talking to someone else quick, being nice like you’re supposed to, attentive to make them feel good. he didn’t know his voice changed that much.

‘girls would like you more if you talked normal to them. how you do to me.’

steve swallowed thickly. he just. he just doesn’t know that thats true. nancy left, he talked to her about lots of things, too many things. she like him better at the start. before some of his black tar innards spilled out. before he freaked. before he was able to paste himself back together and she saw him for what he really is.

he thinks of his parents. how they don’t know him and still don’t like him. anxiety prickles at his fingertips at the thought of those times they do come home.

because with them there the routine he’s carved for himself, those quiet moments of darkness that he so craves. they’re gone. now it’s tv static and plates clanging and having to show his face at dinner again. but he’s not ten anymore. now he’s an adult whose still drowning in the tension of the room, never able to say what’s really going on, never allowed to ask how they really feel, never taught how to figure his feeling out. no listening ear for steve as a child, and the ice only grew thicker with time.

it’s his skin itching at his mother stirring her tea across the house, spoon agains porcelain. it’s the hair on the back of his neck standing up at the sound of ice clinking in his fathers scotch glass. it’s triggered memories playing over and over again. it’s being plagued, by ghosts who haunt him, who left but come back every so often, like poltergeists. polietgists with the deed to the house, and ownership over steve, through blood and fear alone.

‘when they get back you come to mine steve yeah? you come home.’

because now theres not just robin. there’s eddie.

he sees everything. and more. even when steve’s trying to hide. eddie sees.

he noticed steve squinting at the hospital and asked the nurse to turn the lights down. he saw how he started zoning out at a diner with the kids, their arguing reaching a pitch, asked steve to keep him company for a smoke break. once they were outside eddie said he just needed a moment, ‘those kids can be animals’. said it and looked a him like he didn’t need an answer, let steve just breathe a focus on the sound of the wind.

it’s like there’s a million tiny moments, a million tiny cracks in him forming the more he’s around eddie. like his soft underbelly is mewling any time he’s around, wanting attention, wanting to let eddie see. let eddie touch.

eddie used to look at him sometimes, across the lunch hall. stare at him with an expression steve couldn’t really make sense of. he used to think it was judgment, annoyance. now he wonders if that face was confusion or interest. maybe eddie’s always been trying to figure steve out.

once it starts. them. eddie’s everywhere. more somehow, maybe, than robin because, you know, they go there. but it’s different, from those time, with those girls. instead now he’s there and his brains off and on in a, like, magical way. a new way that makes him feel whole and, and beautiful.

this thing they have. it’s fragile. it’s not perfect. he messes up, takes him a moment to grasp how eddie can be so so himself, always, no matter what. especially when it causes him problems. ‘why not just try and fit in?’ but the stone faced reply told steve that was the wrong thing to say, he didn’t get it but he needed to respect it. respect eddie and his choices. ‘i’m not like you steve, even if my brain shit was all gone i’d still be poor, i’d still be othered. still be a gay weirdo little freak.’

and steve is trying to get it. he’s learning to recognise that it’s sadness and confusion in eddie’s eyes when he visits him at work, knowing steve is having a bad day and watching him pretend. watching that mask form thick and fast, hiding the real him, protecting but also keeping everyone far far away. steve thinks maybe they’re living parallels. finding different ways to survive. neither better, neither worse. both far from perfect.

then that pinched sadness in eddie’s eyes. watching steve pretend. cover up. that damn breaks eventually. eddie sees all of him and more. those bits he always kept locked inside. between he and himself. it all comes spilling out.

they were supposed to be going out soon. but eddie wasn’t feeling it anymore ‘let’s just stay here, be cozy a little longer. what do you say, sweetheart?’ it does sound nice. steves so tired. but they decided. they had a plan.

‘we said we would. and i have to buy that thing eddie. we had a plan. and i have to go to work later, so we have to do it before. like we said and then i have to work eddie.’ and before he knows it there’s tears prickling his eyes and the ceiling fan is so loud and the desk lamp is too bright and he smacks a fist to the top of his head and it hurts a little but he’s so frustrated and so overwhelmed and so confused and embarrassed, suddenly. and he can’t breath. why can’t he breath? they had a plan.

they were supposed to go see hopper and pick something up and he has to talk to him and ask about the game because he needs hopper to like him because it’s better when el can come when all the kids hangout. it’s important that she’s happy so hopper needs to trust steve so steve was going to talk to him today and pick something up. it was the plan. hopper makes him nervous but that was the plan. and then he had to go to work. but now he can’t breathe and he feels like he needs something to hurt.

‘but he already trusts you with el stevie. hop trusts you with anything.’

‘i can’t know that. not for sure. when i talk to him it needs to be perfect.’ steve paces. a pinch at his arm. a tug at his hair. pivot. pace. repeat.

‘i heard what he said to you steve, on your birthday, he was calling you son all day. you don’t need to prove anything to him.’

‘i do eddie! you don’t understand. people, they lie. adults lie. they don’t say things the way they mean. i can’t fuck up talking to him. not like i always fuck up talking to my parents. i need to do it better. do it differently. because everyone always leaves. and i just don’t want to be alone again.’ and the tears really start to fall and steve can barely breath and he’s so embarrassed. shaking hands try and cover his face but the tears slip through.

and all he can think about is the plan. going to work. his vest hanging by the door. the way the plastic tapes feel in his hands. the smell of the bleach they mop the back room with. the day stretches before him. so many things in the way. so much anxiety still to come. if he can’t start, it can’t end. he gnaws at his lip. thumps a hand to his chest, trying to breath right, trying to ground.

‘i have to go to work’ he mutters. like a prayer. speak it in to happening. taking him away from the now. thump thump thump at his chest. ear ringing.

eddie’s holding his arms out, giving steve the option. he speaks so calmly, so earnest. ‘you can’t go to work steve. not like this baby.’

steve rounds on him. angry. when did everything get so messed up? if he was just left alone. he should’ve stayed on his own. ‘i cant just call in sick eddie! i’m not sick and and i hate the way they’ll sound when i say it over the phone and knowing what they’ll be thinking about me. they’ll know i hate the job and think i’m lazy and realise how stupid and useless i am and fire me. i can’t afford to get fired eddie. i’d rather just go in.’ he know it comes out garbled, his cheeks on fire.

‘i’m not letting you go in steve. i’ll sort it. i’ll go pick up robin before and she’ll cover for you, she’ll explain. and she would never. ever think that of you.’ eddie’s voice dropped octave. he speaks clearly and plainly and finally there’s a new plan to follow. a new rule for the day.

and all steve can do is curl up in a ball and sob. curl up in a ball against eddie chest, in his arms, squeezing his t-shirt between his fingers. clenching his muscles tight, his teeth grinding together. grunting out some of the decade old scream, still stuck there but more visible to him now.

until finally finally, he relaxes. spent and exhausted. too afraid to open his eyes and face the lamplight, face what could be in eddie’s expression. he drifts..

eventually he gets up, blows his nose and splashed water on his face, turns off all the lights and get back under the warm blanket. fills his lungs. sighs. whispers, ‘m’sorry’

‘don’t say that. there’s nothing to apologise for’ eddie’s so close, so warm.

‘no one’s supposed to ever, see that.. it’s okay if you want to leave’

‘steve. why the fuck would i leave you right now?’

‘who’d wanna date someone who acts like that? it’s. it’s not good eddie. but, but it’s okay. i’m used to being alo-.’

‘please stop stevie. your breaking my heart here. i want to stay, i want to be here with you. i really really like you steve.’ and steve’s cheeks feel wet again. he feels flayed open and young, like a little kid who fell off the swings and everything is different suddenly.

later later when eddie picks robin up from work she stalks in to where steve’s wrapped up on the couch. curls up into his side and exhales. she bites into his bicep. huffing a sad, annoyed little ‘dingus’ before grabbing his hand and fiddling with his fingers.

steve feels his eyes prickle again. looking up at the ceiling he croaks out a small ‘sorry.’ for the day. for everything. for anything he can be. and everything he can’t.

robin kneels on the sofa right next to him. growling a little and placing one of her hands at his sternum and the other at the same height on his back. like she’s forcing herself inside him, holding him together. her hands start to rub up and down quickly, frenzied and grounding for both of them. steve let’s his head hang. eyes closing at the sensation. he grunts. robin grunts back.

eddie joins. sitting at his other side. slipping a hand in steve’s hair, soothing his scalp with long scratching fingers. and steve humms, sighs, keens. eyes closed he drifts but not away from his body, instead into it. with gratitude, and warmth. at the centre of the two best things that ever happened to him. willing to try again. be just, better. never perfect.

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pt 3 snippet

a little happier for u @pearynice <3

ty @spectrum-spectre @vampyreddiemunson @fangirlycupcake @grandwretch for ur tags and additions, it was very inspiring

and tags for lovely @irethsune @willim-billiam-byerson @2jug2head

#hope this is okay #i know the comfort isn't like loads but #unmasking is fucking hard #and hes simply doing his best #autistic steve harrington #steddie #platonic stobin #hotlunch #my fic #steve harrington needs a hug #but he gets one so its okay #feel nervous about posting this but let’s fucking go my dudes #pls let me know if u like it 👉👈

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