#and again wild it's just because of a simple reason

[artioprotection]

I have a lot of trouble reading manga's at times, and it clicked for me the reason it doesn't happen when I read one piece is because Oda simply puts a white highlight around characters and text bubbles so they always pop out from the background. It hurts how simple this is and how much it actually helps me because it stops everything to become line mush when I read

[heartfullofleeches]

fake pizza boy yan developed a concerning taste for seeing darling eating his cum after that first encounter and starts bringing a variety of menu items with “ranch dips” and “vanilla shakes”. plenty of visual material to keep the supply up for his next “delivery” and he is definitely not spiraling into crisis just because the only thing that gets him hard for his other shoots is the mental image of darling stuffed full of his—

(Slapping these two together since they have a similar premise)

Yan Adult Film Star Pizza Boy + Reader [18+]

[Masterbation, Food Play]

-

"Come on..... Come on....."

Twenty minutes till deadline. Since the beginning of his career he stuck to a strict schedule. A simple routine to get the ball rolling as he dipped his toes in the new venture. Now that he had so many eyes on him and his content, Brie was able to take more breaks in between filming, but at this point it had been almost two weeks since he posted anything at all.

He tried everything. His hands. Toys. Videos. Brie even thought about buying pills at one point, but gaining an erection wasn't the hard part of his situation. His viewers were into a lot of things - but if there was one thing that really got their wallets open for him it was when he painted the nearest surface to him with a heavy load of his release. His donations would be flooded with comments from his hands how they wished to be his desk or pillows - or for the opportunity to lick said object clean.

Kind of like how you licked your fingers clean on the day he first met you.

The brief flicker of your face in his mind made his aching length jump in his spit stained palm. The encounter he had with you was all that he could think about anymore. He was obssessed - The innocent confusion as you opened the front door, the genuine gratitude in your expression as you handed him some cash for all his troubles and the free meal. Brie would pay anything to see you sample his sauce again. The way your eyes lit up as the flavor registered on your tongue-

"Mmh....."

What he wouldn’t give to have those lips wrapped around him. If you liked what he gave you so much what better than to get it straight from the source, right? The slick sound of friction grows louder as his hand moves quicker - eyes scanning every corner of his room for more fuel for his fantasies. He wish he had kept the photos he found of you online on screen, but he feared loosing that knot of pleasure twisting at his insides if he took his focus off the task at hand for any reason.

His eyes fall on the drink cup from the takeout he picked up earlier in the day. A boring Styrofoam cup with no clear ties to any restaurant would be the perfect container to bring you another item off the menu. The peach tea he had earlier would be a dead giveaway for any tampering. He needed something thicker, ideally with a creamy texture.

A milkshake.

Who wouldn't enjoy a nice, refreshing shake after pizza? You surely had to be thirsty after eating all that bread. Brie fisted his cock to the image of you on your knees beneath his table - hands gripping the meat of his thighs as your mouth hung open awaiting your treat. You'd look so cute under him like that - his fans would absolutely love you-

A surge of jealousy strengths his grip. Nobody should get to see you like that but him. Those perverts could fotk over their life savings and it wouldn't be enough for Brie to share you with them. Maybe the occasional stream with the two of you couldn't hurt - your face held against his pelvis as he stuffed that pretty throat so nobody could see anything but his cock slipping past your perfect lips.

"Ah.... Y/n...." It's the first time he's said your name. The first time he's let his imagination run this wild. He makes a mental note to cut it out during editingthe. Brie swipes the camera off his desk, angling it better towards his lap and the empty floor below him. He then makes a grab for the empty cup - popping off its lid as he positions the container between his legs. They tremble - barely holding into the styrofoam without crushing it as Brie spits - whimpering as he coats his girth in another layer of his saliva. For a fleeting moment he can perfectly picturing the warmth dripping down his cock as your own - and that's all it takes for him to come undone.

Brie cries out your name with a shakey breath, clutching the edge of his desk for stability as his upper body lurches forward, pouring ropes upon ropes of his spend in the general direction of the cup. It's too much- With it being so long since the last time he came, this hard - tears stab at the corners of his eyes as he shutters, nails peeling chipping at the polished finish of his desk. He misses his intended target at first go, thighs glistening with cum as he hurriedly fixes the cup to catch the remainder.

Brie takes a long pause to catch his breath before wipping off his camera lense, posing with a shakey thumb up as he holds the cup for all to see.

"Shake's ready- Guess it's about time I make another delivery~"

-

"And here you are, one milkshake on the house. We're always trying out new things in the kitchen and like to reward our loyal customers by letting them sample new items first."

Swirling your straw through the thick slurry, you take another sip with a satisfied hum. "Hm. You said this was salted caramel, yeah?"

The delivery boy snaps back to attention - seemingly lost in thought as you gulp down the shake. "Y-yes. That's right- Your thoughts?"

"It's pretty damn good, actually. Been getting kinda hot these past couple of nights so this is just what I needed right about now."

Brie bites down hard on his bottom lip as you place the cool styrofoam against your bare neck, condensation running down to your chest.

"I forgot to ask the last time I can, but my boss finds it really helpful if I get some pictures of satisfied customers to put up. Would you mind if I took a couple of you right now?"

[bolognamayhem117]

Hot Take: Astarion does NOT hate flowers. You just missed a few subtle hints through Act 1 and early Act 3.

Astarion's negativity is directed toward just about anything remotely pleasant as you move through early act three, starting the moment you leave Wyrm's Rock. First thing after Gortash's coronation he marvels near tears at the colors of the city in daylight. If you ask if he's alright, it pisses him off.

There's other instances I can't quite remember but he's a straight crank throughout early Act 3 and it took me several hours of gameplay to have a lightbulb moment about his newly crappier attitude.

He just spent the last two hundred years seeing everything in the overwhelmingly warm dim tones of indoor lighting via sconces, rushlights, and braziers, or the dingy blue gray of moonlight outside. Daylight colors are something he had more than a lifetime to forget and now that he has a chance to remember that vibrancy in his own home town, he knows he's going to have to forget it all over again either by death or by remaining a vampire spawn forever. The worm isn't going to live rent free in his head forever, and killing Cazador to ascend in his place likely feels like an insurmountable and impossible fight against a literal titan who could stomp him flat without a corm of effort.

He doesn't hate flowers, he hates EVERYTHING right now because it's all going away very soon and if he convinces himself he hates everything then he won't miss it when it's all gone again. He was denied this for two hundred years and he's PISSED at what was stolen from him and PISSED it's all going away again.

He behaved similarly in Act 1 about anyone besides him enjoying physical intimacy. Some of this content was cut, to my best knowledge, but the overwhelming majority of his dialog addressing the PC romancing anyone but him are negative or backhanded. This is for two reasons, I think. A: his Simple Plan just dissolved right before his eyes when you chose someone else which in his mind means he has zero safety net, and EVERYONE gets to enjoy sex (key wording being ENJOY, not simply having) except him... And it pisses him off.

He also gleefully interrupts the bug bear and the ogress, I think for the same reason as the above paragraph, being: If he doesn't get to enjoy intimacy neither do they.

He reacts with anger and disgust at anything he's being unfairly denied. Which... That's fair. His feelings are valid, but his reaction to it is pretty shitty and meanspirited.

The other companions I tend to keep in my party, (that is Lae'zel, Halsin, Karlach, and Wyll) however, are actually appearing to behave pretty patiently with him in Act 3 which I find interesting.

In the instance with the flowers Karlach doesn't bother trying to convince him otherwise of his opinion, she just tells him how they make her feel instead and rather than getting snippy or doubling down he more or less agrees to disagree. I also don't recall anyone disagreeing with Astarion during Gale's last quest tasks when he mentioned that he quit praying to gods who wouldn't hear him a long time ago but to be fair, I think the gods did everybody in this crew dirty and they all know it. It seems like they're consciously giving him the space to be mad about things, is what I'm saying.

Everyone I know including myself who crawled out of a long-term hot garbage situation kinda went wild for a bit with freedom, spoke poorly, behaved strangely, had extreme emotional reactions to things, and made some particularly terrible choices. I think that's just a part of recalibrating yourself, healing and learning how to be okay again.

Point is, I wouldn't conflate too many of the turbo-negative things he says with how he actually feels about anything. We certainly know what he says and what he feels are two very different things.

[creatingblackcharacters]

Since we're on the topic of video game hair, and how it takes different times and techniques to do different styles, I want to offer y'all just what Mr. Frontiers-Ravengard would be doing to his hair to have the style Larian gave him:

This is the flat twist style he has in game (this was so hard to find for me lmao):

How to do two strand Flat twists (what would have been easier):

Now mind you, even he mentions that if you want "sleek" flat twists vs more voluminous ones, you have to blow dry! The first video also showed her hair blowdried.

Same idea with cornrows; it's possible to do with and without blowdry.

These are smaller than Wyll's so there's more work, but simple, large ones (which is what they were probably going for anyway) wouldn't take too long to do on your own with moisture and a good comb.

Then how to do faux locs (which, again in my opinion 🙌🏾 is what both the base and the mods for this style in game look like):

This isn't the only way to do this btw, but I wanted y'all to notice the way they wrap the added hair to obtain that look. That's what I noticed that made me start seeing faux locs.

And real locs:

Now the palm rolling technique she's using, you might say "but Ice! That's twisting too!" Yes! But notice how, over time (look at the rest of her head) the "twist" fades as the loc buds. It doesn't maintain that "twist" look that faux locs do, bc faux locs are... Faux lol. They're fake! They're not going to start interlocking bc it's not real hair!

Now the reason I'm discussing all this is because even in a game as highly lauded and detailed as Baldur's Gate, even in this there were still some misunderstandings on how Black hair would look and function in a world where this guy is supposed to be hoofing it with urgency in the wild. Because if I were him, this would not be the style of choice for that 😅 But I get it, its supposed to be "D&D". Anyway, try noticing things like this, when you play your games (and when you make your characters!)

[nsharks]

Hi! I love love LOVE the way you write Ghost and his relationship w/ the reader!! Ignore me if requests are closed, but how did he react when the reader discovered she was pregnant???

"surprising ghost with a pregnancy" words: 1.8k tags: pregnant reader, fem!reader, slight angst?, fluff

“Hope ya don’t miss me during breaks, Lt.”

Soap watches the man he admires, in his infamous ruthlessness and all, stare with a straight gaze at the base’s entrance.

“Only when I drink too much,” Ghost says.

His mask is good for anonymity, yes. But it also does well in moments like these: the Scot beside him has no idea of the pulsing artery in his neck, the eagerness in each flicker of his gaze. He’s looking for you. Looking beyond the gates where you should be hidden somewhere.

Soap has no idea.

“What do you do in your free time, mate?” Soap wonders aloud, shifting the bag over his shoulder. Then, in a cheeky murmur, “Didn’t hear this from me, but I’ve heard whispers ‘bout some criminal activity.”

“Criminal activity?” Ghost repeats dully.

They’re getting closer.

He looks towards the spot you normally wait for him in: is that—?

He can see you.

The tension in his limbs fades to adoration. In the shadows, perfectly hidden but readily visible to his knowing eyes, is his girlfriend. Wearing one of the black hoodies he’d left behind. So big on you. He nearly groans at the sight.

Girlfriend is a weak title.

He hates it. It doesn’t encompass the truth of you: it’s such a simple word, too simple to capture how complicated of an effect you’d had on his life for nearly five years. To say Ghost loves his girlfriend would be to say he has a reason to live. It would be to say that you’ve got this behemoth of a man wrapped so tightly around your finger that his lungs just don’t work the same until he’s holding you.

(Perhaps that’s the reason for the little black box in his bag.)

He turns to the Sergeant and gives a half-hearted clap to his shoulder. “I save the criminal activity for weekends, Johnny.”

And with that, he leaves him (never was one for heartfelt goodbyes).

But he is now one for heartfelt reunions, he figures, because he’s ghosting his way towards you like some wild creature. Preying. Slipping under any eyes. His skeletal hands beyond desperate.

If Soap were to look carefully outside, under the shadow of the building, he’d see how the Lieutenant actually spends his free time.

He’d see his broad form envelop you.

He’d see him eagerly inch up his mask to reveal a pink mouth that doesn’t waste any time before sealing over yours.

And maybe, if he really looked, Soap might’ve been able to see how you cling to Ghost’s chest and tremble.

(But Soap doesn’t see any of this. Not today.)

Not even Ghost, whose got you in his arms, sees the shaking at first. His mind is a bit frenzied with the sensory overload of your smell, your soft hair, your breasts against his chest.

He only ends the kiss so he can get a good look at your face.

“Three months,” he grumbles, lips wet as he ushers the mask back over them. “Felt like a fuckin’ lifetime.”

“I know,” you whisper, but you fail to meet his eyes. “I was worried about you.”

The faintest contour of a smirk beneath his mask.

“Worried, were you?” He rubs your knuckles. “Lovely girl. Don’ worry about me. I’m a bit tough to kill.”

“Don’t,” your eyebrows pinch together. “Please… don’t even mention that.”

He rests his masked chin on top the crown of your head. His arms are so strong and warm and you breathe it all in. His hands stroke your hair with the gentlest of caresses as if, even after five years, he thinks you might be a fragile dream.

“I was so worried,” you say again. A whisper that he barely hears. “I—“

It’s now that he notices something. The rush of adrenaline has soothed over and now, taking your hands in his, Ghost notices the little tremors, swallows them up in the gulf of his large palms.

“Jesus, love,” he frowns. “You’re trembling.”

“There’s… something—“

Ashen eyelashes flutter against smudges of black paint. His shoulders tense as he pulls his chin away from your scented hair. Shifting his weight from boot to boot, Ghost further tucks you behind the colossal mass of him so even now, if someone were to look, all they’d see was his back.

His brows furrow behind a hard-shell skull. “What something?”

You’ve practiced these word so many times but now—

“What?” your boyfriend repeats, low and gruff. His relief is quickly turning into something dark. “Fuck, tell me. Did somethin’ happen?”

“Well, yes—“

“Christ,” he chokes. He doesn’t want to assume the worst, but it’s a gnawing fear. Always. “Someone else?”

“No, Simon.” You’re shaking your head. “It’s not that—“

“What is it then? What’s got you like this?”

“Just—“ and you swallow your fear, “Give me your hand, baby.”

“My hand,” he repeats numbly and offers you one. You take his hand and tug at the glove. There’s little give, so he swears under his breath and helps you pry the fabric off to reveal warm, calloused skin.

Here, tucked away outside a military base, you guide his bare hand under the hoodie you’ve got on. Hold his fingers and spread them apart so he can cup the small growth of your stomach.

Because the reason for your trembling lies here.

Small, growing. Supple skin stretching over a little piece of him and you.

It takes him a moment to process the news under his hand.

He smooths his hand over you. Even after three months, he knows every inch.

This—

This feels different.

You watch a kaleidoscope of realizations, feelings, and perturbation play in his eyes.

You’ve had to keep this secret to yourself for weeks now because it wasn’t something you could just share over the phone. It was too heavy. Too intimate.

Surely, it’ll distract him from his job.

That’s what you figured. But now—

—seeing his eyes cloud frantically, you wonder if showing up 16 weeks pregnant was the best move.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Ghost murmurs. Keeps moving his hand over your little belly as if he’s not quite sure it’s real.

So you lift up the hoodie even more, just here for the two of you to see, and reveal the entirety of your secret for him to peer down at.

And now that he sees it, the unmistakeable bulge, the reality truly sinks in.

He’s silent at first. You kind of expected him to be: your boyfriend is a man of few words. But it doesn’t make the drawn-out moment of uncertainty any less excruciating. You study his eyes with a bated breath.

Children. It’s not something you talked about too much. He’d said in the very beginning that it was completely off the table because “I’d make an awful father”.

But that was years ago and Simon had molded into someone softer, someone less afraid. Someone who, with the help of your love and light, had ripped through the tangled ropes of distrust and guilt that he’d been caught in.

“Say something,” you finally whisper. “Please, Simon. I know- I know this is surprising.”

But all he utters is, “How?”

“The pill isn’t perfect,” you explain sheepishly. “That’s what the doctor told me—“

“…Doctor?”

“Well, I’ve been to the doctor a few times already.”

Lowly, “You… a few times?”

“To make sure everything was alright, baby,” you whisper carefully. “But I— I didn’t ask for the sex yet. I wanted to… I thought you’d want to be with me for that.”

Ghost is controlled. He’s precise and tactical and rarely caught off-guard. But this, the swell that lays under his hand which he hasn’t been able to look away from, has managed to thrust him into feelings he rarely experiences. He feels confused. Shaken to the core. He’s spent most of his adult life determined to stay alone, protect anyone from ever getting caught in the hallow storm of tragedy that is his life.

But you—

You infiltrated his life with promises of bright colors and warm touches and suddenly, somehow, Ghost began to enjoy coming home. He ached for it. He wanted to keep you close and safely tucked away so that little light of yours would never fade from his life.

And now you’ve given him another promise, one that rests in his palm. Death— he understands that too well, perhaps. But this little promise of life is so new and confusing and in mere seconds, it has torn the past from the future. Ghost could never be the same shell of a person he once was because now he’s been filled to the brim. Could he even be trusted with all of this? He’d always felt like there was a carved void where his boyhood had been taken from him, ripped away by terror. How could he be a father with such hole in his chest?

What could he give?

You’re crying. He’s been thrown into such a daze that he failed to notice the onslaught of tears and quiet sniffling coming from his girl.

“Hey,” he’s grounded in the present now, swallowing down the shards of his hesitation and wrapping his arms around you. He could give this. “Hey now. I’m here… I’m here.”

“You’re here?” you ask him, weeping.

“Yes, sweetheart. Christ, m’here. Always.”

In perhaps his first act of fatherhood, Ghost holds you close and murmurs promises of love and safety into your hair. You’d been so scared to tell him. He wouldn’t leave you, no, he could never. If there was ever an ounce of worry that he might—

It’s now smothered by his presence, his warmth, his strength.

“You’re making me a father,” Ghost whispers after the two of you just stand there for sometime. His voice: terrified and in awe all at once. “Don’t know if I’ll be a good one.”

“Simon-“

“But-“ And he gives the entirety of you a squeeze. He’s not going anywhere. “But I won’t be like my old man. Fuck, I swear it to you.”

“I know you won’t, Simon.”

Ghost decides to push his inhibitions to the back of his mind. He can be strong, he can be what you need. He will prove this to you over and over.

“And here I thought you jus’ liked wearing my clothes,” Ghost mumbles, a bit numb and a bit elated.

He reaches for your stomach again and rubs the bump over the fabric of his hoodie. (Perhaps, here lies another reason to live.)

Your crying has ceased. Twisting his uniform in your hands, you murmur with a weak laugh, “Might be the only thing that fits me soon.”

“Bloody hell.” And Ghost sighs. Holding the two of you now, he already feels like all the synapses in his brain have been rewired. Lighted up with a primal urge to protect, he doesn’t think about all the worries for right now. No— just thinks about how he’s going to smother your stomach with kisses once you’re home.

“I’ve got plenty more of those for you to wear.”

[kujousgf]

BITE THE HAND THAT FEEDS. mdni. 18+.

pairings: dark ! natasha romanoff + f ! reader

summary: natasha has always liked to hunt, and it's even better when her prey is a pretty girl

warnings: violence, abuse, bear trap, injury, established kidnapping/established relationship, almost outdoor sex, public indecency, hair pulling, impact play, groping, guns, daddy kink

wc: 3.2k~

“Natasha, please.” You whimper, grabbing at her wrist to try and ease some of the strain on your hair as she drags you out of the house and through the yard. “Stop, I don’t want to do this.” Tears are rolling down your cheeks now from the pain in your scalp and your face from the previous punches Natasha threw your way. 

“Really? Could’ve fuckin’ fooled me.” Natasha growls, tugging harder and making you trip over your own feet before she hauls you up, only to push you to the ground afterwards, glaring at your shaking form on the ground. 

This was your fault, you shouldn’t have tried to run. It was stupid, you know that now. You just wished you had more freedom, that’s all. 

You were naked save for the panties and bra she allowed you to keep on, having forced you to strip about ten minutes prior. Your body trembled in the chilly autumn air of whatever part of Russia Natasha inhabited, one of the Oblasts you think, it was the most likely, but you weren’t sure. She didn’t like to keep you conscious while she was traveling, so you were never quite sure where you were. But you know you’ve been in this specific place for a while now, at her out of place house, in the middle of nowhere, in the Russian wilderness. 

You startle when you hear a knife make a soft thud on the grass next to you and you look up at Natasha, sniffling and trying to wipe your tears away. You know she doesn’t like it when you cry over nothing like this. “Tasha, I’m sorry, I promise. Please, I’ll be good, I don’t want to do this again.” Your bottom lip wobbles and you try to keep your voice even, but it trembles and you know Natasha heard. 

“Don’t ‘Tasha’ me.” She scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “Pick up the knife. Get up.” And when you don’t make any moves to get up, still hoping she’ll change her mind, she lands a harsh kick to your thigh and you whimper. “Now! Don’t make me say it again.”

You squeak involuntarily, tears starting to spill down your cheeks again. You don’t like when Natasha yells at you, even more than you don’t like when she hits you like this and treats you like a ragdoll. ‘If you don’t like it, then don’t do anything to deserve it’ you can hear her voice in the back of your head. You shouldn’t have done anything to upset her. Everything that happens from now on is your fault, you know that, but still, you can’t help but wish Natasha would be just a little nicer. 

You grab the hunting knife with a shaky hand, gripping the handle and starting to stand up. “You want to be a good girl?” She asks and you nod hesitantly, you know where this is going. “Then you can be a good girl by getting out of my sight. You wanted so badly to leave this morning, so go on then.”

“But Tasha, I’m not– I’m–”

“What the fuck did I just say? Go!”

The loudness of her voice is enough to have your body moving before your brain even registers what she said, scrambling away like a scared animal. You’ve always hated when Natasha got like this, you don’t like this game. You’ve never played it like this, but it’s never been fun either way.

The game is really quite simple, Natasha is the predator and you are her prey. She gives you five minutes to run– ten minutes if she’s feeling particularly nice, before she comes after you. The knife is because she’s not that cruel, she doesn’t want some wild animal to be the reason you die. You are in the Russian wilderness, afterall. All of the previous times she’s done this you’ve been fully clothed, though, and you wish she had let you keep your clothes on this time, too.

She must have been feeling particularly mean to make you do this in the current weather. It’s not horribly windy, but the air is not still either, and the wind that blows past is bitter and cold. You think the time on the clock read 4:26pm when Natasha dragged you through the living room, which meant you had about two hours before the sun would set. 

Natasha had never really let you outside late enough for the sun to set, and you weren’t entirely sure you wanted your first time out past sunset to be in the forest, but you also didn’t know what exactly she would do when she found you. Natasha was unpredictable. Some days she was soft and gentle, like she was when you first got together, and other days she was mean and cold, treating you as if you were nothing but a burden she had to drag around with her. You knew she didn’t mean it, though. If that’s what she really thought then she would have dropped you off in the middle of nowhere months ago, maybe even left you years ago, and drove off without so much as a look back. 

Your feet are sore as you run across the ground, rocks and dirt sticking to your bare feet, twigs scattered everywhere, some sharp and some not, digging into your flesh harshly. You know you’ll be cleaning cuts when you get back to the house, but you try not to focus on the pain so you can focus on where you’re going instead. You know that the closest village is about 15 miles away, an impossible distance even when you’re running your fastest.

It would take around two hours to get there and Natasha would never let that happen anyway, the longest she’d ever taken in her little hunt was 45 minutes because you’d somehow managed to climb a tree. You never did that again after how terrifying it was to have her climb up after you and practically throw you down from it. 

You could never go into the village in your state of undress anyway, something Natasha was counting on. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been running for when you stop to catch your breath, if it’s been less than or more than ten minutes– the maximum amount of time Natasha would have given you to get a headstart. Not that it really mattered, the outcome would be the same no matter how long you’d been running. That, at least, was predictable. 

You hear a gunshot in the distance and you bolt. You didn’t know she had that with her, you didn’t see it before back at the cabin. She’d never used it on you, only to scare you, but that doesn’t mean today won’t be the day that changes. She did seem rather volatile today. You look behind you and you can’t see her anywhere, not even a glimpse of her red hair. 

Is she using her gun to signal that it's been five minutes? Ten minutes? That would be new. But what else would she possibly be wasting a bullet for? …Is there someone else out here? No, there couldn’t be, there’s never been before. Who would have found their way all the way out here? You don’t even know where here is, so why would anyone who isn’t Natasha know where you are?

And if there is someone else out here, was that Natasha’s gun firing or theirs? Your heart is beating faster now, moreso out of genuine fear rather than nervousness like before. Sure, Natasha could be scary, but she’d never evoked this kind of fear out of you before. You’re conflicted now. Should you keep running or should you go back to see if Natasha is okay? You have a knife, surely you could help? But what good is a knife against a gun?

Your mind is going so fast you can barely keep up. You hadn’t felt this anxious since you thought Natasha was going to die in the hands of Ultron all those years ago. 

Your feet are moving on their own and with your constant glances behind, you aren’t paying any attention to where you’re running. You even climbed… something, but you weren’t paying enough attention even to that. Usually, you’d be more vigilant, you know that Natasha likes to set traps sometimes, keep you nervous about what’s out there and give you a reason not to try and escape.

But you’re not paying any attention to the ground below you as you run, too focused on the gun shot you had heard that you don’t see the trap in front of you. You had never been up here anyway, you never would have known about it. You barely even feel yourself stepping on the pan in the middle until the two steel jaws clamp around your ankle and you let out a blood curdling scream. 

Bear traps aren’t supposed to hurt like this, they’re not supposed to be this sharp. Natasha was just cruel.

You instantly drop to the ground, on your knees first and then sitting as you uselessly try to pry the trap off of your leg. Your hands are trembling and covered in blood as you cry. Just the sight of all your blood is almost enough to make you pass out. You hiccup on your own sobs, trying to figure out how you could possibly get this trap off. You wish Natasha were here. 

Natasha grunts as she pulls herself up onto the top of a rock face. How you had strayed so far from your usual path, she had no idea. Well, she had a little bit of an idea. She did fire her gun just to make you jump. She can tell you’d been here, though, if the fresh blood on the sharp rock was any indication. Her poor baby, you must have cut yourself, why didn’t you just choose another direction?

Once she’s on her feet again, she looks around for any other signs of you. The grass is flattened to the east and she narrows her eyes as she looks further in that direction. She knows that climbing must have slowed you down a lot, and if she knows her girl, then the pain from whatever cuts you have will have you whining and complaining to yourself the whole time. If she listens close enough, she’d probably just be able to hear you, so she walks in the direction of the flattened grass. 

She pauses for a second and then crouches down to get a closer look at the ground. Yes, you were running away from the rock face, not towards it. And it looks like you have a few cuts on the bottom of your feet if the dark maroon stains on some of the blades of grass meant anything. Natasha supposes she could have been a little less cruel and given you shoes, but it’s a little too late for that now. 

She stands again and begins walking further, she’s not running, no longer worried about how far ahead you may have gotten. You’d be tired by now even without any injuries, and Natasha was much faster than you even on your best days, it didn’t matter if she ran or walked now. She was in the home stretch.

She looks down at the watch on her wrist and hums. It had been 20 minutes since she’d set you free, and that was more than enough time for her to simmer down at least a little bit and for you to trap yourself in your thoughts of her being mad at you. Ones that would have you pleading at her feet, she’s sure, begging her to forgive you more than you were before. 

And she has simmered down, realized that perhaps her reaction to the fear of you wanting to leave her wasn’t quite appropriate. But really, when were any of her reactions appropriate? This was an okay approach, she reasons, making you realize you never wanted to be without her.

And then she hears it. A scream in the distance. 

Natasha’s fingers twitch and she wonders if she should fire another blank or not. She slows her breathing and does her best to create minimal noise as she walks towards the source of the sound. She knows it’s you, but she doesn’t know what has you screaming like that. If it’s an animal, she can sneak up and kill it before it hurts you. And if it’s not, well, she might be in for a little treat. 

She’s not disappointed when she sees you sitting down and leaning against a tree, sniffling as you look down at your leg. Your very bloody leg, actually. And then Natasha’s eyes focus properly and she sees the trap clamped tightly around your leg, the teeth from the jaws sunk into your flesh. Poor thing, you’ll never see her coming. Unless…

She considers having a little mercy, but once she knows she’s close enough to be in your eye sight and for you to panic, she reaches into her back pocket for her gun and fires it into the air. 

She watches as you practically jump out of your skin, and a pained whimper slips past your lips, looking around with wide eyes until you spot her. You’re like a deer caught in headlights and you know there’s nothing you can do now, you can’t run and even if you tried, you wouldn’t get very far, the trap is chained somewhere to a chain fence stake somewhere in the ground. 

Natasha stalks towards you, eyes hungry as she takes in the sight in front of her. “Run into a little trouble, did you?” She grins, wolf-like, and crouches in front of you. “This looks like it hurts, baby. You poor thing.” And you know she’s going to do something bad when she reaches out, but you don’t expect her to start poking and prodding at the injury. 

You whimper and your fists clench at your sides, “T–Tasha, please.” Your teeth clench, “Stop… Yes, it hurts, ah!”

She chuckles and grants you a little mercy. She presses down on the springs on both sides, using her strength to open the jaws, “Move your leg.” She instructs when your leg is finally free of the metal, the dislodging causing a pained whine to escape your lips. When all you do is sniffle and look at her she sighs, “Now or I will let it go and we both know you don’t want that.”

Hesitantly, you move your leg out of the trap, wincing when you feel a jolt of pain shoot up your leg. Natasha lets go and the trap snaps shut before she picks it up and tosses it somewhere behind her, you hear it hit the ground with a dull thud. “There. Aren't things always better when you listen to me?”

She takes a second to properly examine the injury you’ve sustained. The wounds aren’t too deep and they’ll definitely need some cleaning and they’ll take time to heal, but that is something she’ll worry about later. For now…

“You didn’t lose my good hunting knife, did you?” she tilts her head to the side and you shrink a little under her gaze. “W– Well, I didn’t really lose it, I promise, b– but I didn’t have anywhere to put it and I needed my hands and–”

Natasha cuts you off with a kiss and your eyes widen in surprise. You thought she’d be mad at you, not kissing you, but maybe this means you’re forgiven. “Don’t care, I’ll find it later. Seeing you like this… We might have to do this more often.” Her hands roughly grope at your breasts and you whine before she rips your bra off of you entirely, it’s times like this where you’re reminded of just how strong she actually is.

You want to cry at her words, yell and tell her you don’t want to do this again, you don’t like this. Tears well up in your eyes at just the thought of having to do this again, especially in a state of undress like this and you wish you could tell her to stop, that you don’t want this anymore, you can’t take it, but you know you can’t. After all, what would you do without her? Even if being with her means you get hurt like this sometimes, you don’t think you could really ever live without her. You just wish she’d go back to being sweet Natasha all the time.

Natasha interrupts your thoughts with another kiss, this one a little more hungry and insistent. You wish she would at least take you back to the house, but it seems that she wants you now and she’s unwilling to wait. You could try to convince her to at least tend to your injury first, but you doubt that she would listen. 

“Tash–” You start and she moves to start kissing at your neck because of the interruption, “Tasha, please, let’s go home first. I’m filthy, don’t you want to clean up first?” 

She groans as she pulls away from your neck, taking the time to examine you properly. Her heart skips and she growls, the sight of you like this excites her, even if you’re covered in dirt and blood. “No, you want to go home and clean up first, but I don’t remember asking.” And that’s all you get before she’s back to kissing and biting at your neck. 

One of her hands moves down to toy with the waistband of your panties as the other gropes at your chest. You let your head fall back against the tree and you wish you could focus more on Natasha, she always makes you feel so good and it’s not like you’ve never let her fuck you while injured before, but your leg is throbbing and the whimper that falls from your lips is more from pain than pleasure.

You push at her shoulder weakly and the look she gives you when you make her pull away for the second time is deadly. But you know she cares, you know she does, you just have to hit the right spot when you speak next and so you go for a weak point, “I–It hurts a lot, Daddy, please. I’ll be good and we can do whatever you want, just please can we go home first?”

Her expression softens a fraction and you know you’ve won. Natasha may be unpredictable, but there is always one thing that stays the same: her need to protect you.

“...Fine.” You’re surprised she’s not actually pouting as she grabs your bra and shoves it partially into her back pocket before standing up. She cracks her knuckles before leaning down and picking you up bridal style, making sure your injured leg is the one furthest away from her body. “I think we still have those pink bandages you liked so much.”

Yes, you were definitely forgiven.

[joocomics]

wild cherry (18+)

pairing: skater!jiseok x fem!reader x hyeongjun

genre: smut, sprinkle of fluff wc: 3.9k

summary: your childhood best friend who studies abroad comes back for the summer break. his first day in his hometown after not visiting for three years ends with a sweet unforgettable experience and an unexpected new friendship for you

contains: sub!reader, slight food play? (there’s a scene with a lollipop involved, if it sounds uncomfortable to you, i advise not reading this), unprotected sex, public sex, oral (f), dirty talk, praise kink, pet names, masturbation (m), exhibitionism, voyeurism

a/n: please, keep in mind english is not my first language, i apologise in advance for any mistakes i’ve might missed

!! this is pure fiction for entertainment purposes

There’s so much that three years can do to a person.

You realise it after you walk out through the front door and call out Jiseok’s name who’s on the other sidewalk.

He’s sitting on his skateboard, settled under a tree to hide from the July sun and waiting patiently to see you for the first time after three years.

You cross the street, and run into his arms. He doesn’t even get the chance to give you one proper look, because you immediately jump on him with the widest most radiant smile.

His arms lift you up in the air as you scream at him for not telling you that he’s decided to come back for the summer.

He only giggles into your hair which is half-wet with a sweet scent that tickles his senses. His arms stay tightly wrapped around your back.

“I just got here last night and you’re already yelling at me.” He jokes quietly, but you barely hear a word from your heart beating so fast.

His appearance can continue to change as much as it wants, but the welcoming feeling of his comforting presence will always remain the same, and you will miss it every time he’s gone no matter what.

You feel the warm breeze across the back of your thighs, and you realise the flowy summer dress you’re wearing has hiked up your body a bit too much, exposing more skin than it’s appropriate. Jiseok’s grip around your body unintentionally exposed most of your panties by bringing you in the air, and you decide it’s time to let go before any of your neighbours see it.

“Sorry for making you wait,” you speak up almost out of breath from the excitement, “but I was in the shower when you called.”

“No worries.” He chuckles, and you don’t know if it’s just you getting used to hearing it again in person, or if the sound really has changed a bit. “What’s thirteen minutes compared to three years?” He gives you an ear to ear smile as his eyes squint from the bright sunlight.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

He shrugs shoulders, because the reason is pretty simple and obvious.

“I wanted to surprise you.”

You both can’t stop grinning at each other, closely observing the changes that you’ve missed during all this time. His hair has gotten longer, his figure more broad and confident, his gaze - bolder. You’ve sent many selfies in the chat, many pictures, videos and you talk on facetime often, but it’s not the same.

Not even close.

“I have a surprise for you too.” You move your hand up in front of his eyes and Jiseok gasps loudly.

“No way!” He grabs the lollipop the second he sees it. The same one you always used to buy while you were in high school and continued to buy after graduation. “Wait,” his brows fake a suspicious look, “did you know I was flying home? Do you have some psychic powers you’re not telling me about?”

“I wish,” you laugh. “I just buy some once in a while, especially this time of the year. The flavour reminds me of the good ol’ days.”

“Thanks, I missed them.” He opens his arms, inviting you in a hug again. “And you too.”

You cling onto his body, genuinely grateful to have him so close to you again. The memories throughout the years you’ve created together since you were little kids running on this same street you are standing right now, burst into your mind, but you shove them away, wanting to be fully focused on the present.

“I missed you too. More than I expected.”

“Told you it will be boring without me.”

After you back away, Jiseok accidentally peeks into your cleavage while you fix your dress, and his laughter suddenly dies down. He shifts his gaze up to your face with a coy smirk.

“You look beautiful by the way.”

It’s not only your nicely shaped breasts that he’s complimenting, but your blossomed beauty too.

“Thanks.” You respond a bit flustered because it’s the last thing you expected to hear from him.

“Oh!” He turns around. “Check out my new skateboard deck.” He lifts it in front of his chest with a proud grin. “Customised it myself.”

“I knew there was an artsy side to you.”

You run your fingertips along the colorful deck, telling him how much you like the creative design.

Jiseok hops on the skateboard, and you both take a stroll around the neighbourhood. He said he wanted to see if anything has changed since he left to study abroad, and you tell him the only difference is that a few people moved.

As the both of you chat, jumping from one topic into another, you catch with your peripheral vision that Jiseok is taking off his t-shirt. You quickly look away, but not for long because his feet speed up the wheels of the skate and he’s suddenly ahead of you with his back muscles into your face.

He used to constantly yell at you “check this out!” before doing his tricks, but now he doesn’t do it anymore; maybe he grew out of it and since he’s shown impressive skills in a few competitions he doesn’t feel the need to.

He pops ollie high in the air before groaning from the hot temperature. His shirt hangs from his shoulder, and the closer you get, the better you see his tanned skin and the abs… especially the abs.

“We should go to the skate park before I leave so you can see my newest jump. I learned something that will make your jaw drop.”

“We should,” you agree.

You don’t ask when he’s leaving. You don’t want to know just yet.

Later in the afternoon Jiseok called you to hangout, and you noticed that your heart is racing quicker with each passing minute as you wait for him to pick you up with his dad’s car.

It’s unusual. There’s no reason for it to beat this furiously for a friend you’ve known all your life.

The vehicle approaches and you sigh with relief once you sit on the passenger seat, enjoying the colder air.

“Seatbelt, please.” Jiseok glances at your chest before preparing to leave the empty street. “Hot, isn’t it?”

“Deadly,” you complain, secretly checking your reflection in the rear view mirror.

You thought it would be just the two of you, but turns out a friend of his will be joining you.

“Do you mind?” Jiseok asks, paying attention to the busy road.

His schedule currently is packed by meeting up with many hometown friends that he hasn’t seen in a long time. He does his best to squeeze in everyone in a short period of time, and you understand that.

“Of course not, it will be fun.” You reassure him with a quick curl of your lips. “Do I know him?” You ask, worried if the slight disappointment you felt is echoing in your voice.

“I might’ve mentioned him before, but I don’t think you’ve met him.” Jiseok admits after a few seconds of thinking. “I’m sure you’re gonna like him though,” he quickly adds. “He’s not like most of my friends, don’t worry.”

“I like your friends!” You turn to him with a fake expression of surprise.

“No, you don’t.” Jiseok peeps at you before fixing his gaze on the road again.

His laugh rings in the car, and you feel a wave of relief. You’re glad he doesn’t mind your opinions on most of his friends. Not that he’s here to hang out with them and invite you to come along, but when he’s done with college he may have more opportunities to travel to his hometown… You wonder what his friends are like in his current new life. Does he act the same when he’s with them or is there a different version of Kwak Jiseok that you have no idea about?

“Here he is.” Jiseok shouts through a wide grin, rolling down the window. He sticks out his hand and his friend greets him with some kind of special fist bump. “Damn, the ponytail is sick.” He exclaims after the dark haired boy settles in the back seat. “I didn’t know you’re growing out your hair.”

“Thanks,” Jiseok’s friend says. His voice is coming in a mellow calming tone from behind your shoulder. “Thought you knew.”

“Maybe I would’ve if you facetimed me more.”

His friend laughs through a sarcastic reply, and Jiseok finally introduces you.

“Hyeongjun, this is Y/N, you’ve heard about her, Y/N, this is Hyeongjun.”

“Nice to meet you.” You turn around, reaching for his hand.

He accepts it gently with a genuine smile, and that smile awes you quite honestly. As he walked towards the car you noticed he has a nice slim figure with an appearance that seems appealing at first glance, but now that you take a closer look at him, his face is charming. It makes you want to keep staring at him.

“Actually,” Jiseok’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts, and you turn back around, “Hyeongjun attends the same college as you, Y/N. He’s majoring in Art.”

“Really?” You peek at him intrigued.

“Have you seen each other around?” Jiseok asks curiously while taking a left turn. He’s driving towards a nearby supermarket where you’ve decided to grab drinks and snacks for a picnic at the park.

“I don’t think so,” you mumble and Hyeongjun agrees with you.

“Figured.” Jiseok nods. “Hyeongjun would’ve remembered you.”

“Wow, I didn’t expect it to get so empty here.”

It’s midnight, and the only sounds left around are coming from your unending conversation with Jiseok and Hyeongjun. You can hear occasionally some murmurs or barking in the distance, but it seems that from now on it will only get quieter.

The multiple beer cans are sitting empty outside of the blanket on which the three of you are lazing on along with a few empty packages of snacks.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Jiseok sneaks a hand in the pocket of his pants and quickly unwraps the lollipop you gave him this morning. He puts a hand on his chest, overreacting after tasting it. “Just like I remember.”

“Wild cherry. It’s your favourite, right?” You direct your eyes on him, as you keep resting on your back. He’s sitting in front of you in one of the corners of the blanket, shirtless.

He humms in agreement, pulling out the lolly through his plump lips before showing off his enticing smile.

“But this one is even sweeter cause it’s from you.”

He hides it back in his mouth enjoying the way you attempt to look away shyly. Even in the darkness your features glimmer with a beam of light, and he can see clearly when you’re reacting to his words in a more special way.

Hyeongjun who’s sitting with his back leaning against the tree is picking out the next song to play on his phone while still drinking the remaining sips of his last beer.

He cannot help but steal shameless glances at your laying figure as you chuckle at almost everything Jiseok says. Your hair is spilling on the ground messy, but still beautiful while your naked legs move playfully left to right, distracting him with their hypnotising curves.

“Caramel apple should not come before wild cherry,” Jiseok bursts out dumbfounded.

“That’s your opinion,” you fight back. “I like it, I think it’s great.”

“Better than this?” He holds the red lollipop, anticipating your answer with raised brows.

“Maybe,” you reply, but you’re not able to say anything more after Jiseok moves closer, suddenly prepping himself over you. His lips hover over your mouth, slightly redder than their usual color, as his eyes pierce through yours which are stunned; not able to stop at just one part of his face. “What?” You ask.

“Can I kiss you so you can tell me if you still think that?”

You’ve never craved any taste so badly in your life.

“Yes.”

Jiseok presses his lips on yours, hard, yet cautiously at the same time. A burst of excitement and lust explodes in your chest the moment your mouths connect, allowing your lips to move in sync and explore parts of each other that were till now unfamiliar. Your tongues meet and the sweet flavour increases in your mouth as Jiseok’s dominates over yours.

He breaks the kiss, breathing out.

A moment later of just staring at each other somehow you find a conclusion despite the fuzziness of your mind.

“No, you’re right.” You answer, still facing him so closely. “Wild cherry is better.”

Your response provokes a smirk of pride on Jiseok’s face before it disappears from your vision. He moves lower down your body, his hands hike up your delicate dress that if you ask him, you look pretty much naked in anyway.

His palms explore your bare stomach and hips and you feel how every single place he touches starts heating up despite the normal temperature.

You spread your legs wider and Jiseok levels his face with your clothed cunt with a lollipop in mouth. He grabs it by the handle before speaking up.

“I have a feeling you’re sweeter, baby.” His thumb rubs the spot where your clit is and you sigh from how nice it feels. “Should we find out?”

You meet his heavy gaze between your legs.

“Yeah… I’d like that.”

After your permission, Jiseok moves your panties to the side, and shoots a warm thrill in your entire body through a long lick with his flat tongue. He repeats the same motion more slowly, giving you time to adjust to the feeling before he goes in to suck on your bundle of nerves, shutting his eyes in delight.

Hyeongjun respectfully ignored everything that happened a moment before this… however, he feels like it’s expected from him to watch this.

He sees Jiseok’s hands hugging your thighs as the sounds from his mouth devouring your pussy fill the silence of the deserted park. They’re so lewd and alluring. Just like the soft moans, spilling from your lips that cause his boner to grow.

Jiseok detaches from your folds, groaning from how turned on he is. The lollipop in his fingers appears closer until it bumps into your swollen clit.

“So sweet, doll.” He whispers in a raspier tone, tapping a few times with the head of the lolly. “I knew it.”

You feel him dragging the ball down your folds. The built up arousal is so much, the slickness makes it easy for half of it to slip inside your entrance with ease.

“Fuck, got you so wet for me.” Jiseok moves his dark gaze on your scrunched face, wanting to see your next expression when he pushes the rest of the lollipop into your cunt.

He smirks provocatively once you mewl with pleasure, letting him move it back and forth.

“What a needy girl,” he grunts, pulling it out slowly, “gonna cum from a fuckin’ lollipop.”

He hands you the candy all covered in your essence as soon as you rise up in a sitting position.

This is when the realisation that Hyeongjun saw everything hits you. You also just now notice there’s a new song quietly playing from his phone which apparently has his full attention, or that’s how he’s trying to make it seem.

Jiseok gives you an encouraging nod, his cocky expression with a hint of mischief tells you his imagination is running wild. He has something on his mind, and he’s excited to see you’re thinking of the same thing.

“Hyeongjun.”

Jiseok’s friend looks up at you questionably, and your lips turn up to make him feel less flustered.

“Do you want to try the lollipop too?” You ask.

He asks in return if it’s okay with you, and you respond by moving closer to him.

You guide it towards his lips and he separates them like by a command. You maintain the eye contact as you invite the sugary flavour on his tongue, but once he wraps his seductive lips around the ball which looks too erotic to you for some reason, you couldn’t control your eyes anymore. They move from his lustful eyes and remain on his mouth to watch how he sneaks out his tongue, swiping it along his lips after you pull out the lollipop.

He swallows the sweetness, and you gulp right after him - solely from the urge to kiss him. There’s a desire to find out how his lips would feel that bubbles up inside you.

“You can taste the cherry even better from her.” Jiseok calls out as if he has just read your mind.

You lean in and Hyeongjun does the same simultaneously moving his hand at the back of your neck. After your lips connect, your body flutters from an electric wave once again, but a different type - much more tender and lightweight than the one coming from Jiseok’s lips. Hyeongjun moves passionately as well, but in a graceful way like he’s worried not to get too caught up and make you fall apart, while Jiseok kisses without restraints, like seeing you fall apart is exactly what he wants.

You open your eyes and see the tip of Hyeongjun’s tongue out, not able to get enough of you yet. You gently close your lips around it, holding his neck with your two hands while his roam around your thighs underneath your skirt.

Every flinch he makes with his muscles, every breath he lets out, is as if he’s on slow motion. He wants this to last for as long as possible.

Your heart races as you suck on his wet tongue meanwhile your chin gets wet from a trail of saliva that Hyeongjun licks off after you unwrap your lips.

His hands leave your body - the opposite of his needs, - allowing Jiseok’s to grip on your hips from behind. He gets a hold of you again with an even bigger hunger that unlocks something primer in him from seeing you in this new light. So different and nasty from how your usual pure self is.

Seems like he’s not the only one who’s changed in the past three years.

“Are you having fun driving us crazy like this?” He tilts your head, running his tongue up to your ear.

Every time he touches you slightly you get the urge to moan pathetically, so you bite your lip to avoid it, at least for now.

Hyeongjun watches Jiseok peppering your skin with kisses while his fingertips make the thin straps of your dress slip off your shoulders.

“Not even wearing a bra?”Jiseok notes amused, squeezing your breasts. His erection turns more impatient as your nipples harden on the instant from the breeze. “Come here.”

Jiseok stands up, unbuckling his belt. Soon enough, his pants are open enough to free his cock, and you kneel in front of him while facing Hyeongjun who leans back against the tree; watching you take his friend from behind.

At first you couldn’t focus on Hyeongjun for a while. Feeling Jiseok sinking into you wraps your brain into a fog, unabling you to think or do anything else besides focusing entirely on his thick length going deeper and deeper.

Jiseok digs fingers in your hips while picking up a steady pace which has your moans elevating in the silence.

He shushes you to stay quiet, but his body speeds up.

“You don’t want to get caught fuckin’ in the park, right pretty doll?”

“More, please…” you whine in response finally able to take a peek at your surroundings illuminated by the moonlight. “Please…”

“Only if you don’t make a sound.” Jiseok warns you before slowing down his thrusts.

You nod obediently not letting Hyeongjun out of sight. Jiseok notices your fixed attention on him, and finds it quite intriguing.

He makes you lean back by pulling on your small scrunched dress. The fabric exposes your entire body besides just a small part of your waist. He humms quietly once you begin to move up and down his cock on your own, squeezing him perfectly with your tight walls while your nails stab his thighs as you support yourself.

“Tell me what else do you want, baby.” Jiseok runs his hands on your bare shoulders. His deep voice covers you in goosebumps.

You blink at Hyeongjun while the pleasure floods your veins.

“I… I want him to feel good too.”

“So sweet,” he coos, praising you with knuckles caressing your warm cheek. “You heard her.”

Hyeongjun doesn’t hesitate.

He unzips his jeans and the sound is enough to make your heart skip a beat from excitement. Your eyes widen in the distance, following the rushed movement of his hands.

When his slim fingers grip his shaft he starts tugging in a slow pace, imagining that the pressure around him comes from your gummy walls; that the smacking sounds from skin clashing against skin is because he’s the one kneeling behind you.

You’re bouncing on his dick; you’re making him throb and leak with desperation.

“C’mon, doll, don’t get distracted.” Jiseok speaks in a gentle manner, but you notice the slight tone of frustration hidden underneath. “Take it, c’mon.. fuck.”

He doesn’t wait for you to change your pace though, instead he decides to take matters into his own hands. He grabs your lower waist and starts thrusting against the desired spot rapidly; uncontrollably, like he doesn’t plan on ever stopping. Due to the insane amount of pleasure that shoots his core, his head falls back and his eyes roll at the back of his skull.

A warm knot forms in both of your bodies, so close to snapping, as sweat collects on different parts of your skin. It’s gliding down your forehead, neck, chest, your inner thighs along with the spilling fluids from your cunt.

Hyeongjun’s eyes are leveled with your boobs that shake every time Jiseok shoves his cock through you. As his lips open from another small moan, yours close, tucked between your teeth.

“Fuck, you feel so good… so tight and wet.”

And Hyeongjun can almost feel it too. If he keeps his eyes shut and just focus on your panting and the squelching coming from between your legs, he can really feel it. His fist speeds up, building up the intense heat inside as you whimper that you’re about to cum.

“Let it out, baby,” Jiseok grunts, his own voice shaking too. “That’s it, cum for me, good girl.”

He covers your mouth with force while his spare arm stays around you, wanting to keep his cock gliding sloppily till the climax shakes you up.

The thrill is staggering; it makes your body convulse in Jiseok’s embrace as you hold onto the arm that keeps you silent. A few muffled cries sneak out from his palm which are enough to push Hyeongjun over the edge. His cum spills all over his naked stomach in hot thick ropes and he manages to stay quiet till the end in comparison to Jiseok whose throat releases a deep groan after he jerks off, spraying your back with fluids.

Once Jiseok gives your ass a playful smack you let yourself collapse silently on your tummy.

The three of you wait for your breaths to return back to normal in the shared silence. For your surprise, it's not awkward nor perplexing. You let the minutes pass comfortably while the night summer wind finally turns colder, helping your bodies cool off.

The moon shines bright and you meet Hyeongjun’s eyes as he rests on your left side.

He smiles at you.

You smile back.

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

[espinosaurusrexex]

Hopelessly Devoted

BuckyBarnes x Reader

summary: It's so simple sometimes. You meet the right person, and it all falls into place. Bucky never imagined he'd get this lucky. So what better way to remember it than on the second-best day of his life?

a/n: Hi, this is me describing every Bucky fangirl’s experience ever… and then a little more. This might be a song imagine? I don’t know, it’s heavily inspired at least.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: none, really, none - everything is good here, stay as long as you like 💕 - fluff

･ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ

consider listening to: Butterflies (feat. AURORA) - Tom Odell

“Hi, I’m Bucky.”

That was all it took. That was it. Three simple words and you were at a loss for yours. 

He had that charm hidden in the corner of his smile and still evident even now. A confident smugness is etched on his features when he flirts with you. But you have learned that it is not just there, in the dark edges of his lips. It is in the crinkles of his eyes when he laughs, too. It is in the touch of his fingertips when they stroke over your skin. And it is in the whisper of his voice when he mumbles sweet nothings into your ear. 

‘Follow me.’ He’d say, dragging you down alleyways in Brooklyn and telling you stories upon stories of his and Steve’s adventures a hundred years ago. And you would listen, hang onto his lips like sugar, eyes big and wondrous in childlike admiration. Bucky would tell you every little detail, simply because he loves seeing the expressions on your face turn. You listen to him - actually, listen. And while he’d been in positions like this in his life before, especially as a Sergeant, he has never experienced this kind of attention. Your listening is laced with adoration and love and respect and awe and so many more beautiful things that prevent him from ever stopping to tell you about his past. 

He is not that open, normally. Not towards many people, at least. And you know that, which is why you also have a tinge of gratefulness within your attention. It is also the reason you let him talk for hours. Even if sleep fights to overtake your mind, even if you have important things to do, even if the world would come crashing down, you’d listen to him. Because Bucky is special.

It didn’t take long for you to realize just how special he is to you. But it sure took some time for you to say something. 

Months of pining and watching him from corners of the room, wishing you were in his arms instead. They’re warm and strong, and the kisses that accompany them when he encases you in them hold so many promises. 

Now he’s yours. And he’s about to make that promise forever.

❁ ❁ ❁

Klick, klick... bam!

There, it happened.

He’s in love. Just like that - clicked into place like the puzzle piece he never knew he missed. 

It is a little scary, but who cares when it feels like that? Like thunder and warm tea, like cuts and soothing kisses, like... butterflies. But wild ones, the ones brave enough to fly out in the storm. He’s invincible when he’s with you. There is nothing holding him back from being on top of the world. And it's the strangest feeling, really. 

There are no more empty heartbeats pumping cool blood through a body he was sure has died many years ago. The second you look at him, all of him comes back to life. He is able to experience living again. And he wants to do it with you - over and over again. God, people have told him how incredible this feeling is, but experiencing it is like unlocking a different part of himself. Sometimes Bucky feels as though he’s watching someone else’s life. And he’s just a random passerby that gets to experience a glimpse of his dream. But then your fingers graze his skin, and he is reminded that this is in fact real. You are real. And there is nothing more amazing than that.

From the first day, you had that kind smile and those special eyes - the ones that can see through every wall he tries to put up. You can see his emotions with them, Bucky is sure. And for the first time in a long, long, time, he’s not scared of having his mind read. It feels natural to let you do it - it feels safe. He wants to share it with you - especially the things he can’t say because he simply doesn’t know how. He’s grateful you have that power. 

So, Bucky knew it the second he met you, that you are impossible to get over, even if he’d never get to have you. But when he’s watching those promising eyes stare up at him, he cannot keep himself from smiling.

Now you’re his. And you’re about to make that promise forever.

❁ ❁ ❁

The audience is watching you intently, but there’s only Bucky and you. Everything else is a blur of white and green in your peripherals. Bucky is holding your hand, and the heat spreading from his body to yours relaxes you. His fingers are trembling a little, but Bucky doesn’t care. He’s happy. Possibly the happiest he’s ever been, and at the same time not the happiest he’ll ever be - because that is to come, with every day adding on to this one.

Your name falls from his lips and you gasp at the raspiness in his voice. “From the moment I saw you, I knew it. I knew you were my happiness.” A smile breaks through his face - even wider than the one before. “Two years ago, I thought I was okay. I thought I had arrived in the life destined for me. It wasn’t a great one, but it was better than anything I could have hoped for. And then you happened - just stepped into my life with that sunshine smile of yours - and I realized that you could give me so much more than I thought I needed. I’ve gotten so used to your warmth by now, but I’ll never take it for granted. I just...” Bucky has to stop and catch his breath, but when he does he smiles at you again and his eyes are soft. “I don’t think I would survive without you now.”

He’s crying, and there’s something so wonderful about the tears leaving his eyes. They wash him clean of all the fear his old self holds. There is nothing scary as long as he can face it with you.

“I love you, so much.” A look at your fingers in his, and a tear settles on your skin, shooting a wave of goosebumps up your arm. “You don’t know it, but you saved my life.”

His eyes lock with yours again. Warm blue swimming in salty water - they’re happy. He’s happy. You have not realized that you have held your breath the whole time. There was no way to concentrate on breathing when you could feel every word of his stroking through your body in warm heaves. Bucky bites his lip as he watches your eyes shine with tears as well. There is so much more he could say. He could fill a week’s worth of hours talking about how much he appreciates you - but he settles for the few vulnerable words he released for everyone to hear. The rest is for you to read in his touch and stare, in his smile and the kiss he is about to share with you. He’s getting all giddy thinking about it. He’s done it a million times before, but this is it. The Kiss that settles it all.

You send an encouraging smile his way, and he slowly nods as his hands squeeze yours softly.

“When you touch me, I feel butterflies.” Oh, you hadn’t planned to just blurt it out like that. But it just happened. There was so much swirling in your head, the text you have rehearsed is suddenly not enough to do him justice. A small giggle rustles through the crowd, but you don’t care how childish it sounds. It’s true, and it’s the best feeling ever.

“I’ve known it for so long, I have. But feeling it every day anew surprises me. You are amazing, and kind and so incredibly thoughtful. Being with you feels like being myself. And I love that you can make me feel this way.” A tear rushes down your cheek, and Bucky struggles to keep his hand in yours instead of wiping it away. “I’m so lucky - I think it every time I think of you. And I thank the universe for gifting me your heart. Because, for whatever reason, I was worth it.” You have to pause for a moment to catch your breath, but his touch grounds you. There are too many things you want to say, and it would still not be enough. So you settle for the most important one. “I love you, Bucky. I love you so much it hurts sometimes. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You share a shy look with him, letting all the feelings flow through your body. The room is listening in anticipation when you both say your ‘I-dos’ and even though you know there would not be any surprises, your chest feels freer in a way. Bucky struggles to let go of your hands to turn to Steve, who is handing him the ring. And as he slides the delicate metal on your finger, he can’t stop the small sob from escaping his lips. It’s too amazing, too overwhelming - but at the same time, a feeling he doesn’t want to let go of, either. Your hands tremble when they carefully trace over the gold carving on his vibranium finger. Whatever is said rushes by you in a blur and you can only register the smile on Bucky’s face brightening even more. His hands reach out to you and press you to his body until his nose touches yours and his thumb gently strokes over your cheek.

It’s the moment before the fireworks go off, the second before the sprint, the little shimmer of excited heart race before the confetti explodes in bright and vibrant colors.

“I’m gonna love you 'til the day I die,” you mouth in perfect unison before capturing that promise with a searing kiss, letting the explosion paint your love on the walls for everyone to see.

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[sitp-recs]

Favourite Drarry recs (long fics maybe? pretty please?) that are ideally to enjoy this Spring season ?

Hello again! That’s a great ask - I have a long fic rec list that you might find interesting, but this inspired me to do something more specific with Spring vibes feat house renovations, cooking as love language, gardening, domesticity, no angst romance etc etc etc. This is 100% based on my own perception of spring vibes btw, but I hope you’ll enjoy these as much as I did!

💐 Short fic:

magic in the making by @getawayfox (G, 2k)

I didn’t see Malfoy for a year after the trial. When Gin told me that, according to Pansy, he had opened a little posh bakery in Mayfair, I thought she was joking, so I went to see for myself.

Market Saturdays by @sorrybutblog (M, 3k)

In which Harry is an accidental part-time cheesemonger, Draco is an organic farmer and they fall in love. Not an AU.

The Long Fall by @tackytigerfic (M, 3.6k)

It's supposed to be a simple house renovation, and maybe it's just the paint fumes, but Harry is feeling dizzy around Draco Malfoy. And what's the real meaning of family, anyway?

Ice Snakes, Glow-worms and Wolverine Stew by khalulu (M, 8k)

Harry Potter apparently wants to talk to Draco about something, but odd events keep getting in the way of that conversation – and bringing them closer together. Featuring serpentine travels, misbehaving birds, dubious roofing projects, a gay beach, and an unexpected matchmaker.

Life goes not backward by @shealwaysreads (T, 9k)

Harry still isn’t used to gifts, but this one is different. A story of coming home, finding safe ground, and the wild courage of putting down roots.

A Truth Universally Acknowledged by @sorrybutblog (M, 17k)

A year out from the war, Harry agrees to accompany Hermione on a historical walking tour of Pride and Prejudice. Not in the itinerary: running into Draco Malfoy, setting off a summer of stately homes, lavish parties, resentful shagging, and maybe, falling in love.

amid this warm and steady sweetness, orphaned (E, 21k)

Harry is not living in a period drama, no matter what his friends or his new house or Malfoy’s sudden affinity for horse-riding might suggest, and if one more person uses the word courting, he’s going to start hexing people.

💐 Long fic

Moldova's Magical Tea by @aibidil (E, 32k)

Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, and—to everyone’s surprise—Draco Malfoy are opening a magical tea shop to revive wizarding tea culture and, hopefully, to bring the community together after the war. Harry, who is unemployed and trying to find his way in post-war society, wants to help his friends with their new business—but that means spending a lot of time around Malfoy.

Clouds That Veil the Midnight Moon by @drarrytrash (E, 36k)

According to Harry’s personal narrative regarding the incident, he’d hooked up with Draco Malfoy for purely self-destructive reasons, or out of convenience, or by some unlucky accident. Looking at him, sprawled in the moonlight, Harry is devastated to recall that he’d hooked up with Draco Malfoy because he’s hot.

Follow the Water by @xanthippe74 (T, 40k)

Harry Potter’s life is fine. Maybe a little dull and predictable, but he shouldn’t complain about that, right? When he unexpectedly finds himself at Luna’s house one afternoon, Harry gets invited to join the secret wonderland that she’s creating with a surprising group of friends. Maybe a summer outdoors is just what a former hero needs to bring some zest back into his life.

Through the May Air, Over the Ocean by tsauergrass (T, 45k)

Draco Malfoy never expected to find himself in Scotland or being stuck in a cottage with Potter—but wonders never cease. A story about warmth, a story about falling back in love. A story about a flock of sheep in the distant fells of Scotland.

Our Objective Remains Unchanged by @citrusses (E, 46k) - Muggle AU

Harry Potter, returning member of the Oxford University Boat Club, has two goals for the spring of 2005: beat Cambridge, and beat Draco Malfoy. Perhaps not in that order.

Sweeten to Taste by @saintgarbanzo, @babooshkart (E, 51k)

It starts with Draco's buckwheat crepes with honeyed oranges. Or maybe it starts with his porridge with toasted walnuts and homemade apple butter. Or perhaps it starts with the cinnamon buns Draco made from scratch with mascarpone icing. Harry just knows he's hungry for more.

Against All Odds by momatu (E, 54k)

Beauxbatons is hosting the first ever Quidditch Summer School for children from all over Europe, and Harry has promised to enroll Teddy as his birthday present. Meanwhile, Draco is stuck in his office, putting together the first ever Quidditch Summer School for children from all over Europe during, when he should be enjoying summer holidays.

What Branches Grow by @the-fools-errand (M, 55k)

When a run-of-the-mill investigation turns up evidence that the Death Eaters may be resurfacing, Harry seems to be the only one who believes Malfoy has anything to do with it. Yet according to official records, he’s been the poster child for the Ministry’s post-war Rehabilitation program, living in a small muggle town in Wales.

Meet Me at Midnight by @the-starryknight (T, 57k)

Harry was beginning to wonder if he’d ever make anything again when Malfoy stormed through the door of Harry’s furniture shop. Now Harry’s got an impossible Ministry commission to finish, and even less energy than ever to deal with his elusive muse. That is, until he stumbles upon the surreal and beautiful world of a mysterious fae creature…

Stately Homes of Wiltshire by waspabi (E, 58k)

Malfoy Manor has mould, dry rot and an infestation of unusually historical poltergeists. Harry Potter is on the case.

The Promise of Summer by Omi_Ohmy (M, 66k)

How was Harry supposed to know that coming back for eighth year would be so confusing? Everything is the same, and yet not the same. And nowhere is this more obvious than with Draco Malfoy. Harry finds himself once more watching and following Malfoy, trying to work him out. When they are drawn together to heal the castle, Harry doesn’t just find Malfoy - he also finds himself.

Home Truths by @skeptiquewrites and @fantalfart (E, 67k)

In the off-season Harry decided to fix up Grimmauld Place and found that Draco Malfoy was the only person who could help him. A demanding career and unrelenting press scrutiny were enough to deal with before Harry added a house with a mind of its own, family history, and a tense, flirty, complicated relationship with his childhood nemesis to the mix.

The Claiming of Grimmauld Place by @bixgirl1 (E, 74k)

When Grimmauld Place begins fighting against Harry’s ownership of it, he decides he needs help to train the historic home — but little does he expect that it’ll be Malfoy who’s most suitable for the challenge. However, as Malfoy and Harry get closer, Harry comes to understand that expectations aren’t always the best path by which to guide his heart — and in the process learns just what is needed to make a house a home.

Knead by laughingd0g (E, 83k)

This is not a story about Harry renovating Grimmauld Place. This is a story about coffee shops and brewpubs, about Ginny and Luna on a farm with creatures, about magical Oregon, coastal road trips, flying, friendship, and Draco Malfoy's lean arms.

Wild, orphaned (E, 92k)

“No,” Harry said, by way of greeting. Malfoy’s blonde head rose slowly, carelessly. “Get out.” “I feel as though we’ve already established this, Potter,” Malfoy responded. “And I feel that what we established was that you telling me to get out of places really doesn’t make me more likely to vacate them.”

Little Deaths and How to Avoid Them (or Draco Malfoy's Guide to Stop Dying and Start Living Instead) by nerakrose, dustmouth (T, 96k)

Malfoy is way too interested in coroner reports for somebody who's definitely not looking for ways to die, Harry wants to be friends with him, and Ginny wants to break up with Harry.

The Liars Department by @dorthyanndrarry (T, 103k)

This is a story about Harry meeting up with Draco Malfoy four years after the war. And a story about Harry, well, not hating his job per say, but it's not like he has much to compare it to and it seemed fine. His whole life seemed fine. Then Malfoy came along with and his flashy suits and fast car making everything seem dull in comparison, and Harry... Harry couldn't just leave well enough alone.

Any Instrument by @dictacontrion (E, 131k)

Draco Malfoy wouldn't go back to England for anything less than an exceptional case. Being asked to figure out why Harry Potter can't control his magic might be exceptional enough to qualify.

[cookiealchemieart]

Voices and the Hero I DID IT I FUCKING FINISHED THIS PIECE YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! I have Thoughts about my designs for these guys so uh Design Notes under the cut!

I'm bad at drawing actual birds (if the narrator on the hero's shoulder is any indication) so I went with the next best thing that I'm better at: plague doctors! Plus plague masks are just fun to draw. I tried making each of the voices match the princess they correspond to, but it got tricky with a couple of them. In no particular order, here we go! The Hero is a bird guy with a bird mask. Perhaps the mask is meant to keep his identity locked away? Either way, the outfit is more shapes than actual fabric, similar to the Princess' gown. Simple enough to register as clothes, but vague enough to change and be recognizable as the loops splinter. Also the cape is hims wings! The Broken is made to be the wettest, most pathetic little guy, but also ever so slightly like a priest. This is to reference the Tower (mommy- I mean mommy- I mean-) saying that the hero's place by her side is "that of a priest, or a pet". So I made him look like a depressed little priest. The Skeptic is the voice that joins you on the route of the Prisoner, so what would be more fitting than a warden? Or maybe an escaped convict? Either way I love his little ponytail poking out of his hood. The Hunted looks like a feral wild child. Feather-hair out and messy, cloak made of scraps of fabric. I figured the most wild looking of the voices would be the one that corresponds to the Beast. The Smitten is all puffy and soft shapes to match the Damsel's rufflier dress and softer appearance. Also my friends recommended the hat and I agree 11/10 would hat again. Gave him a bowtie AND a cravat because the Smitten strikes me as just that extra! The Opportunist's beak is meant to resemble a parrot's, as he just parrots the ideas of whomever he considers to be "winning". This is also why he's dressed like a businessman. He kinda looks like a villain version of the Smitten, but I haven't played the Thorn's route yet, so idk if that's relevant. Also isn't this guy the only voice that doesn't show up in the Chapter 2 routes or am I forgetting one? The Stubborn has demon horns to match the Adversary (and the Eye of the Needle HOOGH MAMA). He's also got battle damage, and his mask is fashioned to look like he has a wounded and scarred eye. Fun fact! Stubborn was supposed to get the ponytail, but I decided while lining that a half cut looked better. The Cold looks the most similar to the Hero, but he's just a bit less put together. While I was drawing his hair I was thinking of L from Deathnote for some reason? Probably the cadence the Cold has. The Cheated is supposed to look like a gambler, given his title and speaking patterns. There...wasn't a good way to pair him with the Razor, but I suppose the spade on his cheek could be seen as a nod to the razor's blades? I dunno, I'm reaching here. The Paranoid suffers from my lack of impulse control when it comes to giving characters goggles. I fucking love steampunk goggles. Much like the Cold, he looks like a less-put-together Hero, but this one is a mess, actively having a panic attack, but is pushing through it because NEITHER THE HERO OR THE NARRATOR IS FUCKING HELPING. Also the stitches on his mask are meant to mirror the cracks on the Nightmare's mask. The Contrarian has a mask with three beaks as a mirror to the Stranger's three heads, but also because the two on his head make him look like a little jester and I felt that was fitting for this smartass. His cape is asymmetrical to spite the status quo.

I hope you enjoyed my art + rambles about these designs. I love doing this!

[freeuselandonorris]

❤️ here to request lando/max f, first kiss... pls :)

tysm this is the perfect prompt for nortrell!! i ended up doing a kinda 5+1 here ig? five times they could've kissed and one time they did? idk~

It could have happened years ago, is the thing. Almost has, a couple of times.

There’d been a few nights even back when they weren’t much more than kids, sharing the tiny, basic hotel rooms Ricky Flynn rented out for them after kart races. Nights when they’d watched Naruto on DVD on Lando’s tiny little laptop, cross-legged on the same bed, and Lando would rest his head on Max’s shoulder to see the screen better, so close his breath warmed Max’s cheek. 

Or the first night out they’d had after Lando signed his F1 contract. They’d gone out drinking – the last big night, Lando said, because he’d have to be good from now on, had a reputation to think about – with Theo and a group of Lando’s other mates, some Max knew, some he didn’t. It had all been a bit of a blur after the sambuca shots, apart from the feeling of Lando’s arms around his neck as Max spun him round, whooping. Half a dickhead attempt to make him sick, half genuine delight. Lando’s mouth had smeared wet and slick across Max’s cheek, over his top lip. Max’s breath had stuttered in his chest and he’d dropped Lando from his arms. Lando had bumped his chin off Max’s shoulder, spilling his vodka cranberry down Max’s arm in the process. 

And there’d been lockdown, of course, when they’d seen barely anyone but each other for months on end and sometimes it hadn’t seemed to matter much what they did, because nothing was ever going to be the same anyway. The nights they’d fallen asleep curled in the same bed. Waking with Lando’s sweaty face pressed into the hollow between Max’s shoulder blades. The way Lando stopped bothering to shut his bedroom door fully even when he was wanking, and Max just got used to the sound of his soft, hitching breaths as he walked past to go for a piss. Their tangled limbs on the sofa. Entire days spent watching the Fast and the Furious movies in chronological order because there was fuck all else to do. Lando running his toes idly up and down Max’s bare calf.

The closest they’d come – the most dangerous night of all – had been after everything went tits up with Luisa. Halfway through a night of pizza and self-recrimination, where Max hadn’t done much but occasionally say hmm and yeah but you know what girls are like, mate, Lando had turned to him with a wild and desperation expression and said I just want – I want to not feel like this for a bit, I want to not have any thoughts. I want to not think about it. Max had swallowed hard and patted his knee, shuffled off to the fridge and returned with beers.

Lando’s career goes from strength to strength. Their paths cross every few months. Every time, Max feels the phantom pull of their bodies. Lando’s eyes on his face, tracing a well-worn path from his eyes to his mouth and back again.

Max realises he can’t remember any of the reasons why this is a bad idea.

When he finally lets it happen, it’s almost an anticlimax. There’s no reason for it. No special occasion. Just Max, on Lando’s sofa in his untidy Monaco apartment that smells of cleaning products and cologne. Stone cold sober, apparently in full possession of his sanity. Turning to Lando midway through PSG v Dortmund extra time, and pressing their mouths together. Simple as that.

It’s soft. Just a gentle touch of their lips. He feels Lando’s inhale, the tiny wet point of his tongue-tip. 

He pulls back just enough to look Lando in the eye. Lando blinks. He doesn’t look shocked. 

“Mate,” he says, a breathy giggle. “What took you so long?”

[sarahscribbles]

𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 (𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨)

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐮𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐝 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟑.𝟏𝐤

𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The soft rustle of the canvas flap breaks the easy silence inside your tent. There’s only one person it could be, yet an excited knot still twists tightly in the pit of your stomach.

You hear him button up the material, quieting the electric sounds still teeming from the jungle behind you, and then the soft shuffle of his boots on the floor. When you turn from dropping your watch and gold bangle into the little dish on your nightstand, James Conrad is in your tent, looking devastatingly gorgeous in a simple deep blue sweater and jeans. 

The sweater hugs him perfectly, accentuating those broad shoulders and his firm chest. You’ve caught stolen glimpses of the muscles that are hidden underneath - toned and defined and crying out to be touched - and the hazy memory makes part of you want to skip the preliminaries and drag him beneath the sheets of your small bed. 

Another small part of you, however, has suddenly turned shy. 

To have harboured a juvenile crush on this man for months only to then find out he feels the same, and to then find out he’s had the same filthy thoughts as you…

For some absurd reason, it makes you nervous.

“I thought you might have changed your mind,” you say, hoping he can’t hear the slight shakiness of your voice. 

You’re only half teasing him because part of you had been fearful that you wouldn’t see him tonight, but when you see a small smile start to tug at his lips, you feel the nerves begin to melt away to nothing. 

James shakes his head slowly and pins you in place with those striking blue eyes. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do what I did back there?” he says softly, closing the distance between you both and resting his hands on your hips.  

“An hour? Or whenever I started to piss you off? It was definitely a wild way to get me to shut up, but it might not work with everyone you get partnered with,” you reply, falling easily into teasing him as the last of your nerves dissolve into a pleasant warmth in the pit of your stomach. 

James rolls his eyes, but it’s in tandem with an amused smile spreading fully across his handsome face. “I’ll keep in mind that it only works on you, then.” 

“You better,” you reply, struggling to keep a grin from curling across your own face. “I get jealous easily, so if I hear you’ve been kissing any soldiers…,” 

The hands on your hips tug you closer until you’re chest to chest, and it’s only then that you snake your arms around his shoulders. They’re solid and firm beneath you, almost teasing you with the tantalising imagery of how his toned body might feel atop yours…

You suck in a shaky breath and try to force the thoughts from your mind, but it’s close to impossible with how James’ hands are now curled around your ass.

“The only person I plan on kissing from now on is you, if you’ll have me,” he says, sounding almost shy and nothing at all like the confident and forceful man you’ve come to know these past few months. 

It’s oddly endearing. 

The tip of his nose is already brushing lightly against yours, and you can feel your heart jackhammering in your chest from both his closeness and knowing that he wants you too. 

“Kiss me again. Please,” you murmur finally, unable to go another second without his mouth on yours. 

One large hand uncurls from your hips to slide up and cradle the base of your skull, holding you firmly in place as he presses his lips against yours. You let James take the lead, because it’s clear as night and day who’s going to be in charge.

Not that you mind one bit. 

His kiss is slow and deep as before, it’s just as soft, but you can detect a new hunger burning within him each time his tongue collides with yours. James moans quietly into your mouth and snakes an arm around your lower back, pulling you so tightly against him that you can feel the firm outline of his muscles beneath his sweater. 

It takes everything in you not to rip the damn thing from his chest.

Your body is flush against his, yet you can’t help but to try and mould yourself tighter against him as you kiss him back just as fiercely. James Conrad is all you know as he begins to walk you backwards - he’s all you can feel beneath your fingertips, all you can taste on your tongue, all you can smell as he envelops you - and he doesn’t stop until the backs of your knees hit the side of your camp bed. 

He grips you before you can tumble, and you fight the overpowering urge to whine when his warm lips leave yours. His hands are then cupping your face, thumbs softly stroking your cheeks, and the blacks of his eyes are blown wide with desire. 

“Are you sure?” he asks, panting slightly and scanning your face for the smallest sign of hesitation or reluctance. 

Something he wouldn’t find if he gazed at you for a thousand years. 

Feeling bold, you run your hands along the firm expanse of his back to cup his ass through those sinfully tight jeans, making sure to squeeze for good measure. You hear the quiet hitch of his breath and watch the silent bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows. 

“I’m sure,” you reply with a smirk, and give his ass another playful pinch. 

“Do that again and I won’t be responsible for what happens the next time we do this,” he says so softly that you know it’s a warning. 

The smirk on your face only grows as you pinch the other cheek. 

“Reckless girl,” he teases, but you catch his smile before his mouth is quickly back on yours. 

This time, his kiss is frantic, so much so that it steals your breath from your lungs. He’s kissing you like there’s only moments remaining before you slip between his fingers, like he needs to commit the taste of you to heart. 

It’s dizzying and exhilarating and you suddenly become very conscious of something hard pressing against your thigh. 

WIth great care, James eases you backwards onto the small camp bed and the sheer size of him fills the small space. He’s still kissing you madly while learning all the dips and curves of your body beneath his hands, and your thighs fall apart all too easily to welcome him between them. 

It’s impossible to ignore the deep ache for him that’s settled into your bones. Each errant brush of his fingers against your skin only fans the flames of need that are raging through your blood. You need this man to claim you before the desire swallows you whole. 

James’ warm fingers begin to creep beneath the loose hem of your shirt, trailing slowly along your sides until his hands are cupping your breasts. The soft pads of his thumbs trace over the cups of your bra and explore the skin just above - it’s a touch that’s light as a feather, but it sends pure electricity jolting through you.

You moan shamelessly against his lips and arch off the sheets in a wordless plea for more, only to hear his quiet laughter rumble through his chest. 

“I should keep you waiting after earlier,” he taunts and rolls his hips against yours. You can feel how hard he is even through his jeans. It’s deliciously teasing and all you want is to feel is cock ease inside you. 

You wrap your arms tighter around his shoulders, as though it will make even an ounce of difference if he does decide to tease you, and offer him a perfect pout and pleading eyes. “Don’t. Please, Captain.”

James inhales sharply, and in one swift, sudden move he rips your shirt down the middle. “Wicked thing.” He smiles, his hands now hastily pulling at the waistband of your khaki shorts. “You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?”

“Maybe,” you concede, lifting your hips off the mattress to allow him to tug your shorts off in a single, fluid movement. He tosses them carelessly to the side without breaking eye contact, and it’s the fire you see burning there that makes you eagerly reach for his belt buckle. 

You know that he won’t keep you waiting - not this time, at least - because the need to fuck you into the mattress is oozing out of him. You can feel it when you successfully unbutton his jeans and push them over the swell of his perfect ass, letting your fingers trail around the tiny patch of exposed skin to ghost over his straining cock.

He’s bigger than you expected. 

James grunts and dips his head low between his shoulders. Briefly, you wonder how long he’s gone without during this posting. Something violent stirs to life in the pit of your stomach. 

It’s only too easy to start palming him through the material of his briefs. He breathes deeply and steadily with every brush of your hand, and you watch the veins in his forearms start to protrude as he tenses, very clearly enjoying your touch. 

Just when you think you’ve got the upper hand, James’ fingers swiftly reach out to curl around your wrist to stall your movements. He pins your hand easily to the mattress by your head and leans in until his warm breath is tickling your ear.

“That’s your second strike, darling.” 

Your smirk goes unseen by him. “Yes, Captain. You better get a move on before I hit three.” 

The sharp nip of his teeth at your earlobe makes you groan and roll your hips against his. “That’s what I’m waiting for,” he purrs. 

He pulls back to look at you and you smirk up at him. “And here I thought you were being romantic.” 

James releases his grip on your wrist to sit up on his knees. You watch mesmirised as he tugs his sweater over his head, finally granting you an unobstructed view of the firm muscles and defined chest that were hidden beneath. The man is beautiful - there’s no other way to describe him - and you almost whimper at the sight of the fine trail of hair that disappears beneath the band of his briefs. 

His eyes grow serious as he plants his hands either side of you, and you force yourself to focus on his face instead of his upper arms. “Tonight is about you and I, nothing more,” he says, almost like he’s reassuring you. 

Almost on instinct, you twist a hand into his hair to pull him in for a kiss. It’s wonderfully soft and his lips linger against yours when he pulls away. 

“The same won’t apply next time,” he murmurs wickedly.

You laugh beneath him while your fingers slide eagerly to push his briefs over his hips. “Is that a promise?” 

James helps in your attempt to get him out of his underwear and leans in for another blistering kiss when he’s finally, blessedly naked. “Absolutely.” 

His warm mouth trails along your jaw and down your chest. He doesn’t pull away even when his strong arm slips beneath your back to pull you off the bed, allowing him to expertly unhook your bra with one hand before setting you back down. 

It joins the growing pile of clothing already scattered across the floor of your tent. 

“Should I ask how you’re so good at that?” you ask, allowing your eyes to drift closed when he takes a nipple into his mouth. 

“Compulsory drag classes when you join the army,” James replies without missing a beat. 

You explode with laughter just as his thumb brushes over your naked breast. “What?!” 

His handsome face lifts from its journey along your torso to flash you a boyish grin. “I’m teasing, darling. But, I was a soldier.” 

It’s the only explanation he offers and you let it drop. 

Instead, you bask in the feel of his warm tongue circling one nipple while a thumb and forefinger pinch the other. You’re aching for him to remove your underwear and fuck you until you can no longer remember your name, but he seems content to have you writhing helplessly beneath him. 

“James…please. I can’t take it anymore. Please fuck me,” you plead when his mouth travels teasingly back to your neck. 

You can feel his cock brushing against your thigh. He’s hard and leaking and you don’t think you can go another second without having him buried inside you. 

He lazily trails his lips back to yours, kissing you in a way that’s almost sloppy, but it only makes you burn for him. “I thought you’d never ask.” 

James’ fingers curl around the band of your underwear, easily sliding them down your thighs until they too are being tossed to the floor of your tent. For a moment he doesn’t say or do anything, only runs his eyes hungrily over you like a man starved. 

It almost makes you want to hide yourself from him. 

You don’t get the chance, though, because he just as quickly settles back between your spread thighs. He supports himself on one arm while his other hand rises to cup your cheek.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?” he asks softly. “Ever since you jumped from that helicopter in your tight little shorts and cursed at everyone around you.” 

You wind your arms around his neck and twist your fingers into his hair, grinning as you remember the exact day all those months ago. “All I’m hearing is that we have a lot of catching up to do.”

His eyes are dancing as his lips brush softly against yours. “Wicked, wicked thing,” James whispers and claims you in another kiss. 

At the same time you mould your body to his, the blunt head of his cock nudges against your aching cunt. Without breaking away, James’ hand disappears between both your bodies and guides himself in. 

It ignites a raging inferno in your core that threatens to swallow you whole. 

James’ lips leave yours despite your whines of protest. He’s panting softly and his pupils are blown wide when his eyes find yours. 

He reaches out a large hand to again cup your cheek, caressing your flushed skin with a soft thumb. “Eyes on me, darling.”

It’s an order you don’t dare disobey. 

With tormenting slowness he eases into you inch by inch, watching every micro expression that twists across your face with clear arousal etched into every line on his. Your nails are leaving a plethora of tiny half moons across the tanned skin of his shoulders - not that he seems to even notice or care - and your continued melody of whimpers and groans have him resting his forehead gently against yours. 

“Shhh, keep it in,” he murmurs when you can take no more of him. You groan and clench around him as you adjust, earning a rough curse barked in your ear, but soon feel his lips press to your cheek. “Good girl.”

You clench hard around him again and he smirks, actually smirks, but refrains from passing comment. He doesn’t need to. 

James builds you up slowly, trailing haphazard kisses and bites along your throat and collarbone. It’s a heady, intoxicating pleasure and promises a release so devastating that all of Vietnam will know his name. 

“You…couldn’t…feel…any better,” he pants in time with each snap of his hips. 

You curl one hand around the base of his skull while the other alternates between tracing the rippling muscles in his back and gripping his perfect ass. 

“Thanks,” you reply lightly into his ear. “It’s an area I work hard on.” 

A short burst of laughter escapes him and his teeth sink into your earlobe. Combined with how heavenly his cock feels, it makes you cry his name in a single, high pitched breath. 

“Good girl. Good girl,” he rasps hoarsely with a particularly forceful thrust of his hips. 

“Keep…fuck….keep saying that and I’m gonna come,” you tell him, only half teasing. 

James lifts his head from the crook of your neck and gazes at you with lust blown blue eyes. One hand slips between your thighs and you feel the glorious pressure of his thumb on your clit. It’s both too much and not enough. 

“I’m not going to stop, and you’re going to look at me when you come. Understood?” he says, immediately thrusting into you at an almost frantic pace. 

“Yes, Captain.” 

You watch the small tilt of his head and the half smile that pulls at his lips. You refrain from passing comment. You don’t need to. 

You grip him like a vice as he steadily builds you up, moaning his name and pleading with a god you no longer believe in. James is grunting with each thrust as his own release crests, but his eyes never once leave yours. 

“James…,” you whimper when you're teetering right on the edge of your climax and the glorious freefall is right before you. 

“Come, my sweet girl. Come for me.” 

Your orgasm rips through you so intensely that, for a moment, you forget to breathe. James’ eyes stay locked with yours as pleasure swallows you whole and you writhe beneath him, but he’s quickly tumbling into bliss alongside you. 

His head falls back heavily to the crook of your neck and you easily cradle it there as he rides out his own release. He’s panting heavily in your ear and a small glow of pride bubbles in your stomach that it’s because of you. 

You both come down off your high slowly, but the aftershocks of release are still tingling pleasantly through every inch of you. James presses another lingering kiss to your cheek and rolls you both over so you’re tucked against his chest. A thin sheen of sweat covers him but you nuzzle into him happily, feeling the deep rise and fall of his chest as he catches his breath. 

“I should have gotten lost in the forest with you a long time ago if that’s what comes of it,” you murmur and you feel his arm squeeze your shoulders. 

James hums and presses his lips to the crown of your head. “Maybe we should get lost again and see what happens.” 

His deep voice is laced with filthy promise and makes your heart skip a beat in your chest, both at what he’s hinting at and knowing that there’s going to be a “next time.” 

“Maybe tomorrow,” you reply and twist yourself tighter around his firm body. “For some reason, I’m completely exhausted tonight.” 

You drift off to sleep beneath the soft caress of his fingertips along your arm and the sound of his heart beating in your ear.

[xwritingdixonx]

To Rot With You | Daryl Dixon |

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Masterlist

Summary: The reader and Daryl take a stroll through the forests, contemplating what it truly means to die. And to do it together. (Purely written based on the Hozier song, In A Week.)

Warnings: mention of death, no use of y/n (yay)

Word Count: aprox. 1.5k

Era: hinted at Alexandria, established relationship

Song Recommendations: In a Week - Hozier

A/n: This is pretty simple and short but hopefully still enjoyable!

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The morning air was fresh, chilly, and slightly damp from the rain that fell throughout the night.

The morning was early. It is too early for any creature to crawl from its sleep and begin withering its way around the forest. Or perhaps it was too wet for any creature to begin their everyday lives, still hiding in the safety and warmth of their enclosures. Or perhaps they were bathing in the fuller ponds and slurping from puddles. Or maybe, they were like you. Drudging through the forest in search of their first meal, the pads of their feet slick with mud.

The moist soil squelched beneath your steps. Wet bits of green grass stuck themselves to the textures of your boots. A layer of mud painted itself to the sole of your shoe, lodging itself into whatever print had been carved there.

Though you didn't own a calendar and probably would never again, you could feel it in the air that Winter was ending and Spring was blossoming. The mornings were still chilly but always sunny, the warmth coming in the later hours of the day. And the rain was frequent but it did not bother you. It softened the frozen ground and plumped the trees and flowers so they could grow full of life and beauty. It provided drinking water and filled the natural water resources with even more water.

Daryl, however, was always bothered. He complained about not having seen a rabbit or a deer on your morning hunt. You poked at him and told him they were still resting like you should be. He complained when he slipped in the mud. And he complained even more when he saw a fox saying, that's the reason we ain't finding no rabbits not because they're gettin' some extra shut-eye.

But he never complained about you. Not a word slipped his lips when you distracted him by holding his hand or standing too close. What was wrong about enjoying the presence of your partner? He had woken you up so early to drag you along, he might as well enjoy you.

When it came time to rest, you set up just on the treeline of a wide field. Wild with uncut grass, weeds, and flowers. The both of you sat on a fallen tree, attempting to avoid the wet ground that would surely ruin your clothes. Daryl had particularly picked this spot to keep an eye on anything wandering into the field for a nibble at the grass.

The sounds of the woods fell upon your ears as silence settled. A slight wind disturbed the greenery. Bending the tall grass, making it dance with the wildflowers. It moved the freshly grown leaves on the branches of the trees, flowing around like hair in the wind. The birds chirped their morning songs and the squirrels scattered from one tree to the next. You liked to joke and say they were hiding from Daryl. And truthfully, you couldn't blame them. You also had no desire to be shot with an arrow, skinned, and then thrown on a grill or tossed into a soup.

"Ya alright?" Daryl broke you from your daydreams, his voice gentle and smooth. You turned to catch his gaze, replying with a gentle, “Yeah.” Followed by a reassuring smile. His hand reached for yours, pulling it to rest in his own. You were already at peace in the sounds and scenes of nature but his touch calmed you in places you didn't even know were tense. Every moment you were able to bask in the love you felt for him, you cherished.

Waking up beside him, falling asleep beside him, showering with him. There was nothing you wanted to do without him by your side. And that included death. You had thought about it...many times. How could you not in a world like this? Death was always right around the corner; peeking, creeping, and waiting. You and Daryl had had your fair share of scares over the years and those thoughts haunted your mind every time. How could you go on without him? How could you fight every day if the thing you're fighting to go home to, is no longer there?

Daryl had the same gloomy thoughts. Losing you was, as clique as it sounds, his worst nightmare. He ran from the thoughts as much as his legs would let him but eventually his legs wore out and it caught up to him in the worst of times. When you got hurt, even the smallest scratch sent him tumbling down. He’d grasp onto you, repeating the same words again and again; Are ya okay? Can I do anythin’? M’sorry. But the gloomiest time came at night after you'd fallen asleep, leaving him alone to succumb to the dreading feeling that was always chasing him. He’d lay beside you, watching your gentle features finally be at ease and always making sure your chest rose and fell with gentle breaths.

“We should just stay here.” You didn’t turn to look at Daryl when you spoke but he looked at you, admiring your silhouette as you looked off. “What do ya mean?” Daryl answered. He wasn’t entirely sure if you were actually talking to him or if the thoughts in your mind were just slipping from your lips. “We come to sit here all the time and no matter the weather, it’s always just…” Your words trailed off as your mind searched for the word to describe the scene before you.

“Perfect?”

An airy laugh came from your chest at Daryl’s word choice. You turned to him then. With your hand still in his, you brought it to your lips and planted a kiss. Almost as a way to say, thank you for the effort. “Comforting. But yes, also perfect.” In your mind it was warmth when it was cold, it was a breath of fresh air in a world of rotting corpses, it was the hope of a future in a world of early death. But he was right…in simple words it was perfect.

“We can build a little house-”

“We?”

With only one word his tone was thick with sarcastic disbelief. You playfully rolled your eyes and gave his hand a squeeze. With your free hand, you pointed to a random spot in the clearing as you rephrased your previous sentence. “You could build me a little house right there.” Daryl liked the sound of that better. A house he was to build, with his hands, just for you to live in. “We’ll fill it with all our things, steal some furniture from home, and scavenge the rest…We can build a fence around so we’re safe.” Your words were a daydreamy gleam and you were far from finished. “We’ll light fires in the Winter to stay warm and open the windows in Spring…” This was obviously a daydream you had put quite a bit of thought into, one you’d laid up at night pondering about, and Daryl would not rob himself of the indulgence of your words.

"I'll start a garden and you’ll hunt. We’ll always have full tummies,” You looked away from the sky to meet his equally blue eyes, “And even fuller hearts.” Your gentle smile rested upon your face and your eyes were filled with the longing of a home that only existed in your whimsical daydreams. Though it did not exist and there was a possibility it never would, Daryl felt himself melting into this world of what-ifs. Daryl had never associated the words home and love together before. But…what if it could exist? What if he could build a home. A home just for him. A home of comfort…a home where he could just simply love and not be afraid.

“W’bout everyone back home?” He questioned, “They’ll never find us.” You responded quickly. Daryl shook his head and scoffed, “Nah, they’d find us in less than a week.” Daryl’s ears perked up at the sound of your soft laughter. “Yeah, yeah they would.” Daryl’s eyes never left you, even when you turned your head to look around the wooded area. He could practically see the way you were editing your story. “Fine, we’ll uh-” Motioning behind you, you continued, “We’ll clear a path through the woods all the way to the road. So they can always come visit.”

Then, as you looked at him, the dread crept upon you. Wrapping its clawed mangled hands around your perfect bubble. “And when we go…we’ll go together.” This caught Daryl by surprise. The fate he so deeply feared was no longer chasing him. It was sitting on that tree with him…and in the form of the words that came from your tongue. “C’mom..don’t talk ‘bout that.” He tried to defer but you would not let him. Whether you went from a bite, from a bullet, from a freak accident, or if you were lucky enough to go naturally, it was and always will be the inevitable truth of fate. “Once we’ve lived in our home long enough and full of love, we can lay in the grass and go.”

Everyone went back to the earth anyway, right? You had no desire to be thrown in a hole and covered in damp cold dirt. If you had to decay, you wanted to be on the soft grass, under the sun, even under the rain. You wanted the wildflowers to eventually grow through the cracks of your skeleton, just as you had seen done with other animal carcasses. You’d let the bugs find shelter in your bones and you’d let the foxes nibble at you. Maybe it would stop them from eating all of Daryl’s rabbits.

“I mean it…I don’t wanna go alone. Never mind how it takes me, I just wanna go with you.” The hope that your eyes once shined was now overshadowed by the tears that formed in your waterline. Daryl swallowed the lump that formed in the back of his throat. “C’mere.” He opened his arms to you, providing you the comfort you desperately needed.

Now with your rambling seemingly done and your body against his, Daryl thought.

“Alright.” Was all he said. Though it wasn’t a typical alright, it was serious. You pulled yourself up from his chest and looked to him with a cocked eyebrow, “Alright?” You questioned. “Yeah.” His demeanor confused you, seconds ago you were spewing words of fantasy, words of love and death, but now he seemed a little too serious on the matter. “What do you mean?”

“Means I wanna do it.” He spoke with his face close to yours, eyes locking into your own, so so close. “Imma build ya a home. Might take a little bit but I promise I will.” With his promise, you closed the sliver of space between you. You had kissed him many times before but there was a new feeling to the gentle urgency his lips met yours with. You could feel the fear of fate melting away in the softness of his kisses and you felt the desire for a peaceful future replace it. And that peaceful future tugged at your lips and ran its fingers through Daryl’s hair.

But most of all there was now a promise. A promise that you’d build together, love together, be full together, and eventually…you’d rot together.

[rosepeta1z]

A slice of sweets

A/N: this is a very very late happy birthday fic to Wanderer/Scaramouche. Fluff, you call him Scaramouche, small tiny tiny mention of throwing up and gagging. I think that’s it.

Word count: 853 words

Scaramouche hates sweets, but for you, he’s willing to suffer and try.

Today was Scaramouche birthday.

It was just another normal day for him. To him, there was no reason to celebrate his birthday. It was no big deal, especially to him. It was just a waste of his time. He had other things to do. If anything, he just wanted peace and quiet for the whole day.

That would be his birthday wish.

So, why were the students in the akademiya bothering him and trying to give him sweets and cake?

He almost gagged when a poor student went up to him when he was just hiding out in the wild and gave him a small sweet. Anyone could tell it was so sickeningly sweet. He simply gave the sweet a grimaced look and shook his head, giving her the small sweet back.

“I don’t do sweets. Take it for yourself, I don’t need or want it.”

The girl that was trying to be nice gave him a sad look, simply nodding her head and walking away seemingly embarrassed.

Maybe he was a bit too straightforward, but he just couldn’t stand sweets! There was nothing in the world that could make him eat them.

Hours passed by, and the same thing would happen over and over again. People from the akademiya would somehow find him and offer him the same thing over and over again.

Sweets, cake, sweet, cake. He felt like throwing up just by how many times he had to smell and look at the sugar filled stuff they gave him. That, and the fact it was starting to really annoy him now.

—-

After all of that, he finally found a place he could sit and just relax. It was a big tree that gave a nice shadow that cooled him down a bit. It was refreshing and relaxing. This, was his birthday wish.

….

Or was it really? He laid his hat on the side and stared at the sky in deep thoughts.

Were birthday wishes even true? I mean, sure, peace and quiet seem nice. But that’s not his actual wish.

His actual wish was to spend more time with you. You were one of the students in the akademiya, and he was quite fond of you. Unlike the others. You talked a lot, but you didn’t talk a lot where to the point you would blow his ear off from how much you’d talk. You talked the perfect amount, your choice of words fascinated him, the way you talk, the way you look when you talk. Everything about you was perfect to him.

He chuckled at his own thoughts. When did he start thinking about stuff like this? He wasn’t used to it.

Right when he was deep in thought, he heard a branch crack near him. He glanced around him before his eyes laid on a figure. It was you? How’d you find him? Before he could collect himself you walked up to him with a sweet smile on your face. The smile that he secretly loved to see everyday.

“Hey, Scaramouche! Happy birthday, I heard from the other students that you were around here so I thought I’d stop by to give you my own little gift for you!”

You presented him a small case of a slice of cake. It seemed sweet. Too sweet.

But how could he give up a cake you gave him? There’s no possible way that he could.

He stared at the cake, then at you, then at the cake once again. He cleared his throat and managed to crack a small smile before raising his hands to take the cake from you.

“Oh, cake? …Thanks. I’ll be sure to eat it. Though, you really didn’t need to do this much for my simple ‘birth’. It’s not necessary one bit.” He muttered, he bit back what he wanted to say about sweets and how much he hated them. But for you, he’ll accept it. But, don’t expect him to actually eat it. Nope.

“Nonsense, I did it because you’re my friend and I care about you! So much so that I made a cake for you. How about you try it? I wanna know what you think about it.” You happily said as you took a seat down right next to him. You seemed more happier than him for his birthday.

“Eat? This cake?” He so desperately wanted to say ‘absolutely not’, but…for you.. he guesses he could make an acceptation just to see you happy. Even though he hated sweets with a burning passion.

He didn’t want to waste any more time stalling, so he quickly took a bite of the cake and swallowed it as quickly as he could so he couldn’t get that taste of awfully sweet sugar. He almost gagged but put on a straight face for you.

Your eyes sparkled when you saw him try it and give a thumbs up. He knew it would be worth it.

At the end of the day, he did managed to spend more time with you and form a stronger bond. It turns out, birthday wishes do come true.

[nihilnovisubsole]

something i've been thinking about as GDC comes around again: it's amazing to sit in the same room with Real Industry People and hear the truth of why certain story decisions happened the way they did. studio games are odd group projects that take a really long time to make, and there are many irons in the fire and many interests at play. sometimes the stars align and a team gets a laser vision, creative freedom, and the budget they need, and they ship the thing they meant to ship.

but not always. if a character you love got killed off, it's entirely possible that their original writer left or they couldn't bring the voice actor back. or leadership wanted to close down old story arcs and tie up loose ends, or someone felt new characters would bring in a new audience. if a series seemed to drop a plot thread in a sequel, it's possible that the narrative team wanted to include it and it got cut for scope. or shareholders wanted to appeal to a different part of the playerbase. or the team had internal creative conflict, or any number of reasons as simple as "it got lost in the shuffle because we did so many rewrites". [important disclosure: i'm not vagueposting about specific games here. i'm just rattling possibilities off. resemblance, unintentional, etc.]

and of course that's not a phenomenon unique to video games. tv shows make snap decisions when they get canceled before the planned end of the story or a cast member wants to leave. movies' plots can change when a new director comes on board, or they bring in a script doctor, or an actor's problems interfere with the shoot. even louisa may alcott changed little women's ending over concerns that if jo remained unmarried, the book wouldn't sell. i'm not sure whether it was her publisher or she worried about it herself, but the point is, something got altered, and it can happen anywhere.

as a fan, i found these developers' stories both comforting and vindicating. for a long time, i've felt like someone riding two horses at once: the fanfic-and-OC girl playing on other writers' playgrounds, and now also the staff writer who sees how the sausage gets made. i've been affected - probably overmuch - by a character's sad end, only to learn that some third party or outside motive influenced it. i've met writers who also didn't like where a plot was going, but didn't have enough seniority on the team to protest it. i've heard stories along the lines of, "we were trying to make lemonade, man," and what shocked me more than the revelation is the peace i gained from it. it's a miracle the games shipped at all. the things that got made, got made. between professionals, it's neither heretical nor some wild flight of irrationality to ask, "what if things had gone a different way?"

and, i mean, it would be both cynical and incorrect to wave it all off and say that no storytelling motives are ever wholesome. some characters die because it's the logical conclusion to their arc. some universes with complicated worldbuilding benefit from narrowing their focus and shaving off a few subplots. i'm just saying many things are possible. when you only sit on the fan side, it's easy to feel like Canon™ looms above you, inviolable, when you're really in conversation with it. there's a lot of power in saying "i respect the team's accomplishments, but i would've made different choices." you'd be surprised how often the team agrees with you.

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Control

PAIRING | Boyfriend!Young!Tony Stark x Girlfriend!Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT | 4.7K

SUMMARY | Your boyfriend has asked you to take over the control in the bedroom, and you're more than happy to do it. You two go down an incredible path of exploring what he likes and loves and discovering what it's like to put your trust in someone else's hands. In the end, you both learn a lot about the other person and will happily do it all over again.

RATING | Explicit (E)

WARNINGS/TAGS | No powers AU, established relationship, use of nicknames (Love/My Love, Sunshine, Puppy),

SMUT | Dom!Reader, Sub!Tony, subspace, discussion of safewords, safewording, use of traffic light system, light bondage (tied up with a scarf), begging, dirty talk, praise/praise kink, degradation, light teasing, edging, Mommy kink, spanking, anal play, anal fingering, cumming untouched/prostate orgasm, aftercare

A/N | @ccbsrmsf1: This fic is dedicated to you because you have helped me immensely by giving me inspiration, proofreading, and suggesting this hot as f*ck GIF for this one! I hope you will enjoy this as much as I did when writing it 💙

EVENTS Masterlist | @anyfandomkinkbingo | "Just hold me." Masterlist | @fandom-free-bingo Wild | Reassuring touches Masterlist | @marvel-smash-bingo | Domination

Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: @duckbuttt

Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist | AU Masterlist

It's been a hectic week for both of you at college, but you're happy to finally have a night of peace together as you sit in his single-person dorm, glad to have the place to yourselves. You haven't often slept over at each other's dorms, but you enjoy every night you can spend together even more.

You just finished eating Chinese takeout together, and now you're both sitting on his floor playing a board game, one of your favorite activities. Tonight is 'Clue' night.

Since neither of you plans to go out the door tonight, you're already wearing your comfiest pajamas, and Tony is also wearing a simple, cozy outfit. He made your favorite tea, and soft music is playing in the background—the perfect setting for a relaxed evening together.

However, you're unaware that Tony is scraping together every last bit of courage to bring up a topic of conversation that has been swirling around in his mind for a while: he would like to explore what it's like if you dominate him in the bedroom. He's used to doing things the 'traditional' way, and even though that blows both your minds every single time, he would like to give you some control in that aspect.

He has thought about this conversation countless times, and in every single one, you're entirely supportive, but he can't get himself to say the words for some reason. When you're about to take a sip of your tea, looking over your Clue chart, he finally finds the courage and brings up the topic he's been desperate to talk about forever.

''Sunshine?'' he starts confidently and is proud of himself for sounding that way, though that confidence doesn't last long. You look up at him expectantly and give him a reassuring smile to let him know you're listening.

''I- I- Do you- No, I'm going about this all wrong,'' he mutters to himself, and you can see he's struggling with something, though you're not sure what that is exactly. A red blush spreads over his cheeks, embarrassment flooding his body because he cannot even ask you a simple question.

''What's wrong, Love? Is everything okay?'' you say, the game you were playing forgotten as you crawl over to where he's sitting before taking your place in front of him. You take his face in your hands to calm him down now that the nerves are completely taking over, your brows knitted together as you're getting worried.

"I-I want to ask you something," he whispers, his eyes cast down as he's a bit nervous to look at you when he asks the question. Giving up control is not something he's used to, but something he desires all the same, so he knows he has to ask it, no matter how difficult it is.

"And what would you like to ask me?" you ask softly, and he looks up at you. His cheeks still warm at the idea of asking his burning question.

"Are you okay with taking control during... you know..." his voice trails off near the end. Even though you know what he wants to ask you, you still like him to say it. Seeing him all flustered like this has you feeling some way, and you cannot get enough of it.

"During...?" you say, trying to coax the words out of him.

"During sex," he whispers. You two have had plenty of conversations about sex before, and it is not a taboo subject for either of you by any means, but Tony's not used to giving up control - or asking for what he wants, for that matter. He looks cute doing it, though, making your heart flutter.

"You want me to take control during sex?" you ask the question just to be sure, and he nods in response. The color on his cheeks seems to deepen even further, and you decide to have mercy on him.

"I would love that, My Love, but I would like to prepare beforehand to ensure we're both comfortable and not doing anything either of us isn't okay with. I'd love to discuss it first to see what you have in mind and go from there. How does that sound?"

"Perfect," Tony sighs as if a huge load has been lifted off his shoulders. Your reaction is exactly what he hoped for, and now you'll spend the rest of the evening discussing your plans instead, your board game long forgotten.

"So, I can only assume you've thought about what you want me to do because I already have a lot of plans, but I want to hear about your ideas first, My Love," you tell him, and he feels the blush on his cheeks burning brightly.

"Y-yeah," he responds in a soft tone, and it makes your heart melt. Tony's shy side never ceases to amaze you; you can't get enough of it. When he finally finds the courage, he tells you how he wants you to give him pleasure in every imaginable way. From light anal play to you fucking him deep and hard with a strap-on and from tying him up to blindfolding, everything passes the revue.

That night, you and Tony had an exciting night as you two discussed your shared fantasies, and it ended with a slow, love-filled session of sex, during which he could not stop telling you how much he loves you and how amazing you are.

"Nat? Do you have time to go shopping with me?" you ask your best friend and roommate, and she practically runs into your room, finding you in front of your closet.

"Shopping, you say? Is there anything specific you're hoping to find when we're out?" she asks, and you chuckle at her words. She knows you only go out to shop when you're going on a date with Tony, and you need to look your best, so her curiosity is immediately piqued.

"Yes. But please don't laugh when I say what it's for," you tell her, and she nods as she sits on your bed.

"Well, I'm hoping to pick out a beautiful set of lingerie that will ensure Tony goes crazy when he sees it. He has asked me to dominate him in the bedroom, and I guess I want to look... presentable when I do," you say, eyes trained on the floor as you do.

"Really? I have to say, I never thought he would be into that! You? Absolutely, but him? I'm surprised," she says as if discussing the weather. You know Natasha won't judge when it comes to things like this, but it's still not something you're used to talking about.

"I'm going to invite Wanda too, and we'll make it a girls' shopping trip," she tells you, immediately grabbing her phone from her pocket. Not even five minutes later, it is all arranged, and you two will meet Wanda at the lingerie store.

"Thank you," you whisper as you look at her, and she gives you a reassuring smile.

"That's what best friends are for!" she says, pulling you into a comforting hug. You're still very grateful to have been paired with Natasha as a roommate because you couldn't have wished for a better person to be there for you.

Once you're in the store, you have tried on countless color variations and sorts of lingerie, from two pieces to bodysuits, and you have had every color of the rainbow, but nothing seems right—until Wanda picks a beautiful red piece off the rack.

"How about this?" she says enthusiastically as she walks over to you, and you gasp at the sight of it. The delicate lace combined with the ribbon in the middle and the deep red color makes you fall in love with it immediately, so you go to the fitting room to try it on immediately.

Not long after, you walk out, smiling broadly as you show Nat and Wanda the lingerie. You look like you're glowing now that you're wearing the perfect lingerie, which looks like it was made to fit your exact measurements. Every tattoo is beautifully shown, and the low back also shows off the large phoenix on your back.

"I think we've found the one!" you tell them excitedly, agreeing it's perfect. When you're back in the fitting room, you give Tony a little sneak peek of what he'll be seeing. The red lace compliments your skin beautifully, and he almost choked on his drink as he received the photo. He is out for lunch with Bruce and Clint, but when he opens the photo, he can't concentrate on anything other than you.

When the little heart-eye emoji pops up in your messages, you smile again before changing into your everyday clothes. Once the lingerie is paid for, all three of you decide to go for lunch, and it just so happens that you choose the exact restaurant where Tony is as well.

As you push open the door, Tony looks over to see who's coming in. His whole demeanor changes the second your gazes cross each other. He sits up straight and can't help but smile, and both Bruce and Clint know exactly who just walked in the door without looking.

"Hi, Sunshine," Tony says as he gets up to greet you. His lips crash on yours in a possessive, needy kiss, his hand cupping your cheek as he does. His tongue immediately licks the seam of your lips, and you happily let him in. You can taste the drink he was enjoying just now.

"Hi, My Love," you whisper after he pulls away, and you sit opposite him in their booth. It's good that they still need to order their lunch because now all six of you can enjoy it together.

"So, did you get something special for me?" Tony asks you, and you nod. Even though you know he has seen your photo in the lingerie, you can't resist playing along.

"Sure did; I picked something beautiful for you, My Love. And I picked up some other things to make it even more special," you tell him with a wink, and you can tell Tony's mind is going into overdrive at the thought of what you possibly could have gotten. You picked out a few regular candles, a scented candle, some massage oil, and a scarf to put to some good use, and you're looking forward to the moment you'll be able to use it.

The lunch is spent laughing and gossiping among your friends, and you could tell something was going on between Bruce and Natasha, but you decided to put a pin in that and ask her about it another time. You're all spending time together; your afternoon couldn't have been any better.

"Are you ready, My Love?" you ask Tony when you leave the bathroom. You have put on the lingerie you bought a few days ago, your hair is pulled back, and your make-up is darker than usual, but it's giving you a sultry look that has Tony's cock twitching anticipation already. You have instructed him to sit on his knees in the middle of the bed, his hands folded behind his back.

"Look at you sitting there, so pretty for me, Puppy," you tell him, and the bright red blush you love so much has appeared on his cheeks. His cock is standing at attention against his abdomen, and you can tell he's painfully hard already, but you'll be taking care of him soon enough.

"Can you tell me about your safewords?" you ask him, and he nods.

"We'll be using the traffic light system, so green means that I'm good and we can continue, yellow means a small break to adjust or reposition if necessary, and red means stop and moving into aftercare," Tony tells you softly, and you nod.

"You're right, Puppy. What's your color?"

"Green," he tells you, and you nod. Before you move on, you do a last scan of the room, and every candle burns. Soft music plays in the background, and you have a towel, massage oil, water, and food ready for aftercare.

"I want you to lie on your stomach for me, Puppy, so I can massage you to get you to relax a little. It's new to both of us, so I want to go slow today." Your voice is sturdy despite the slight nerves swirling in your stomach.

"Okay," he whispers, and he moves to lie down on his stomach, his cock trapped between his stomach and the sheets as he does. When he is in position, you drizzle some massage oil on your boyfriend's calves and thighs, watching the muscles flex as the cold substance hits his skin.

"Color?" "Green, Sunshine," he sighs, and you move to massage both his legs, starting with his calves before moving up to his thighs. You take your time to massage every inch of him, relaxing him as you do. Soft moans leave his lips as your fingers dig carefully into his flesh.

The dusting of hair on both his legs makes you chuckle as your fingers run over it, as it feels soft under your fingertips. When it's time to massage his back, you put a little more oil on it before running your hands over it with long strokes, and you can feel the nerves and tension leave his body with every passing moment.

After you've thoroughly massaged his back, you move down, ready to pay some special attention to his butt.

"Are you okay with me massaging your butt and some light anal play?" you ask him, and he has told you beforehand that's something he's willing to explore - though you still ask to be on the safe side, in case he has changed his might.

"Yes, Sunshine," he whispers, and you lean over his body to grab the small bottle of lube you have put there in advance. Your hands are still slicked up from the massage oil, so you first take your sweet time to massage each cheek before landing a playful slap on each, making him moan a little louder from the pleasure he's feeling.

"Sit on your hands and knees, Puppy. Show me what a good boy you can truly be for me," you order. Even though it takes him a few moments to adjust to the new position, you're delighted with the sight in front of you.

Tony's buttcheeks are spread open beautifully, exposing his puckered hole for you, and his cock is hanging under him, fiery red and already leaking pre-cum. There's a wet spot on the bed where it was trapped underneath his body, making you clench your thighs at the sight. He's been enjoying himself more than you thought he would have.

"Spread your legs for me, Puppy," you tell him, and he does as he's told. However, instead of moving on to pleasure him with your fingers, you get off the bed to grab a long, thin scarf you brought with you for tonight.

"Since I will bring you all the pleasure, I will tie your hands together. You will do what I say when I say it, and I do not expect any talkback unless I ask you a question. Do you understand?" you tell him sternly, and you can see his cock twitch at the way you're talking to him. It doesn't quite come naturally to you yet, but you still enjoy it at the same time.

"Y-yes, Mommy," he whispers, his eyes clenched shut.

"What did you say? You need to speak up; otherwise, I can't hear you, Puppy. And I know for sure you can talk louder than that," you say, and he finally looks up at you, eyes glossy and his mouth slightly slack. It finally dawns on you to know how much he enjoys it, and your panties are officially ruined as a gush of arousal soaks your panties.

You look at him with a raised brow. Even though it takes him a moment to gather his thoughts, he finally manages to say them properly, and you're very proud of him.

"Yes, Mommy, please tie me up," he says as he looks wholly fucked out already, and you have barely touched him apart from the massage. The anticipation has him trembling slightly, so you decide to take a bit of mercy on him, swiftly tying his hands to one of the bars on his headboard.

"Look at you, Puppy, you're fucking beautiful like this," you praise Tony, and he whimpers softly at your words. He's leaning on his elbows, and his ass is perfectly presented now that he's sitting like this.

"What's your color?" you ask when you take your place behind him again, seated on your knees between his spread legs.

"G-green," he croaks out, and you smirk at his response. The sight in front of you is nothing short of perfect, and you're glad he asked you to do this—you'll definitely be doing more of it in the future, too.

"So beautiful, Puppy," you whisper as your hands glide over his cheeks, and you can't resist the urge to give a nice spanking on them, marking them with your handprints in the process. As your hands make contact with his plush flesh, you feel a jolt of electricity going through your body, and the sheer power you're currently having over your boyfriend has you on the edge of orgasm already, and tonight isn't even about your pleasure.

"More, Mommy, please!" Tony begs you, but instead of spanking him again, you take hold of his balls, catching him by surprise as a soft gasp leaves his lips.

"What did I say? You don't talk unless you're being talked to," you remind him, and he nods. You roll his balls in your hands, giving them a gentle tug and squeeze every now and again that has Tony gasping and moaning within no time, his cock only leaking more and more pre-cum as you do so.

"You close, Puppy?" you ask him, and he nods. He only needs a little more to cum, but just before he can, you pull your hand away, leaving him on the edge of an orgasm with a whine.

"It's okay, Puppy, I'll let you cum later. First, I'm going to have some fun with this beautiful, tight hole of yours, and if you're a good boy for me, I'll let you cum in my mouth so I can swallow every last drop of that delicious cum of yours."

You reach over to grab the lube, and you flip the top open, ready to put some lube on your fingers to open him up slowly, ready to take your fingers before you allow him to cum.

"What's your color?" you ask as you see him jerk as he hears the lube.

"G-green," he whispers shyly, but you don't entirely believe him, giving him the chance to try again.

"Tony, can you tell me your color? It's okay to need a break," you tell him, reassuring him as your fingers softly glide over the side of his thigh, his entire body trembling in the moment.

"Yellow," he says as he drops his head, ashamed of having to speak safeword right now. He goes to sit on his knees, his head hanging between his upper arms, a blush spreading over his cheeks from embarrassment.

"Can you tell me what's going on, My Love?" you say as you crouch next to the bed, your face on the same level as his while your hand runs soothingly over his back. Concern is all over your face as you look at him, and your heart hurts slightly at the sight.

"I'm very nervous. Please just hold me for a moment," Tony asks. You nod in understanding before moving onto the bed and by his side, holding him now that he needs it most.

"That's okay; you're allowed to be nervous. We're only doing this for the first time, and I'm proud of you for safewording when you need a break. I promise you that you're doing amazing right now," you tell him, your free hand cupping his cheek, and your thumb runs soothingly over his cheekbone.

"Thank you," Tony whispers almost inaudibly, and you smile reassuringly. You lean in for a soft kiss, which he happily reciprocates as his mind calms down and the nerves slowly seep out of his body. He trusts you completely with everything, but it was too much for him right now, and he's glad you stopped when he needed it - and that you gave him the space to take the break he wanted.

"There is no need to thank me, My Love. This is what we do: We trust each other and listen when others need it. Love is a two-way street, and we're on this together," you tell him, and he nods.

"I love you, Sunshine," he tells you, and you smile brightly at his words. The butterflies in your stomach go wild at the sight of your boyfriend, who willingly puts every ounce of his trust into your hands.

Once Tony has given the all-clear to continue, you have taken your place behind him again, and he's wiggling his butt in anticipation of what's to come. There's an apparent change in his behavior, and you know the small break did him well. He drank a few sips of water before moving on, and he felt a lot better than before.

"Ready, Puppy?" you ask after slicking up your index finger with the lube you opened earlier.

"Yes, I'm ready," he says to you, and you spread his cheeks with your free hand, the other one moving to slick up his puckered hole as well. The moment your finger makes contact with the rim, he gasps at the cold feeling of the lube on your finger, and you chuckle.

"Keep breathing for me, Puppy," you tell him when you notice he's holding his breath, and he does with a long exhale. He wasn't aware he was holding his breath, and he inhaled deeply as you massaged his rim.

Your gaze is laser-focused, and you bite down on your bottom lip when you slide in the tip of your index finger. Tony rocks back against your finger, trying to get more of it after a bit of taste, but you don't give him the satisfaction of doing that.

"Stay still, Puppy. I'm the one who decides the pace right now, and you're going to take whatever I'm giving you," you reprimand him, and Tony whimpers at your words.

After a short moment, you pick up where you left off, your free hand kneading the flesh of his butt as you slowly and carefully stretch him further on your finger until you can comfortably work two of them in. You let out a content hum as you feel his walls pull around your fingers, and you suddenly understand why he loves using his fingers on you.

"That's it, Puppy, you're doing so well for me," you praise him as you find his prostate. Your fingers gliding over it earn you a loud moan as he pushes his hips back, wanting you to do it again.

"You like that, huh? Does my Puppy like it when I play with his ass until he cums like a fucking slut? Yeah, I knew you were nothing more than a little hole for me to play with until you cum for me," you say as you slowly work him up to his orgasm.

"M-Mommy, please!" Tony begs when he's close and doesn't need much to reach his high.

"What do you want, Puppy? Let me know what you want. No, beg me for it like a pathetic little slut," you order, and he slips even further into the fuzzy headspace as you do. He enjoys it and wants to stay in it forever, having you take care of him forever when he's like this.

"M close, Mommy, l-let me cum! Please, spank me, Mommy!" he says, and you're going to be forgiving to him this time. Just as your fingers work over his prostate again, you smack him hard on his ass with your free hand, and he cums with a loud, broken moan.

Endless ropes of his cum paint his sheets as his cock keeps twitching, and his hips rut against your fingers as you work him through his orgasm, praising him endlessly. When he's spent, he collapses to the side, careful not to trap his sensitive cock between his thighs by accident.

"That's it, Puppy, such a good boy! You listened so well to Mommy. You're beautiful when you cum for me like this," you tell him as you pepper his entire body with kisses, reassuring and praising him constantly as he catches his breath. You quickly untie his hands, so he has his free range of motion back.

You come to lay behind him, pulling him close to your body as you act like the big spoon, though in reality, he's still a lot bigger than you are. Despite this, his hand seeks out yours, and he laces his fingers together with yours when he finds it, his thumb rubbing over the back of your hand.

"You did so well for me, My Love; you listened so well," you tell him. The two of you stay like that for the good part of 15 minutes as you keep praising him to ensure he comes down from his high carefully, not wanting him to crash.

"Can you sit up for me, My Love? You need to drink some water and eat some strawberries; it'll give you your strength back," you tell him, and he nods slowly. With slow movement he sits up against the headboard, his thighs spread a little to not hurt his cock.

"That's it, such a good boy for me," you whisper as he takes a few sips of water between each strawberry. He moans at the taste exploding in his mouth, the sweetness coating his tongue with every bite.

"I'm going to run a bath for you, okay? I'll be right back," you tell him, and he nods. The bath is drawn in a few minutes, and Tony sits in it to relax after your scene. You brought his water and the strawberries, which he's now happily munching on while sitting and soaking in the bath.

"I love you so much, Sunshine. Thank you so much for doing this," he tells you, and you smile brightly at him. The sparkle in his eyes shows you everything you need to know, and you could not be happier about how everything turned out.

While Tony is enjoying his bath, you change his sheets and prepare a comfortable outfit for both of you before preparing the couch with your favorite blanket and more snacks to enjoy as you watch a movie.

Once Tony is done, he dries off quickly before putting on the outfit you put on, which matches yours. As a surprise, you bought matching cozy pajamas for the two of you, making you look adorable together. Tony lets himself fall onto the couch in his dorm, and you quickly sit next to him before putting the blanket over your legs.

"Thank you for everything tonight, Sunshine. It was truly a beautiful experience. And most of all, thank you for trusting me enough to explore these things. I know I couldn't have done it without you," Tony tells you as you're curled against his side.

"I should be thanking you for trusting me, My Love. You have been very brave in doing this and also for safewording when you needed it. I'll be looking forward to doing this again in the future, though, because it was a lot of fun to explore this together," you tell him, and he nods.

He leans down to capture your lips with his in a featherlight kiss, but it conveys every ounce of emotion and love his words can't. That night, you two watch a movie while cuddling up on the couch, eating the snacks you prepared, and laughing endlessly without a single care.

Just as you're about to reach for another snack, you suddenly get nauseous before making a beeline for the toilet. Little do you know that the future you're dreaming of is closer than you could ever imagine, and your world will be turned upside down for the better when it does. With your boyfriend by your side, you can get through everything life throws your way, though, no matter how significant it might be.