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pedroshotwifey · 17 days

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Ahoy Hottie! 💜🥩💜 you know I gotta do it to ‘em…

#9 & chubby!Frankie x f!reader 🥩 or just a plain ol’ fat frankie… I’m not picky.

Beefro👌🥩💜

Hey, Beefro! I can't tell you how excited I was to see this request! Hopefully I did fat Frankie justice 😘

Good 'n' Deep

Pairing: Fat!Frankie x f!reader

Word Count: 2.6k (oops 😅)

Tags/warnings: finger fucking, oral, multiple orgasms, piv sex, slight overstimulation, soft dom frankie, mentions of weigh gain, dirty talk, smut, fluff, idiots in love, manhandling, frankie being a fucking unit

Summary: Fat Frankie can't be sated.

*****

You get home late. And feeling awful.

It was supposed to be date night with your husband, but the boss kept you in for overtime. You know Frankie doesn’t mind, and reassured you about forty times that it’s not your fault, you still hate to skip it. But as he says, you always go out on Fridays, and the two of you have plenty of Fridays to make up for this one.

It’s not much, but you did pick up dinner at Frankie’s favorite fast food place on your way home. He doesn’t know yet, and you’re excited to at least surprise him with that. It’s a bit on the expensive side, but definitely worth it—both in the sense that it’s fucking delicious, but also that you’ll be able to see Frankie excited.

“Babe,” you call into the dark house as you toe your shoes off. You smile when you hear Frankie’s quick footfall coming right for you. He wraps you in a hug as soon as he gets to you, engulfing you in his warmth and immediately relieving some of your stress.

He leans down and kisses you gently, but only for a second because he’s suddenly very distracted by a certain smell.

“Ohhh, baby,” he groans, hands already reaching for the paper bag in your hand. “You’re the fuckin’ best.”

He plants a kiss on your head as you giggle. “You’re welcome, baby.”

You both walk into the kitchen and sit down at the table, pulling your food out of the bags. Frankie looks excited, just as you’d hoped he would be. He looks so good right now, wearing his gray sweatpants, his standard oil cap (which you swear he has separation anxiety with), and an old, white tank. There’s a ketchup stain on the front from about a year ago that just never came out in the wash. You also notice that it’s gotten a good bit tighter since then—definitely one of those shirts that Frankie keeps trying to convince himself that fits.

You won’t burst his bubble or anything, but he’ll need to try a bit harder, because there’s no way he’s fooling anyone. A sliver of his pudgy tummy peeks out from the bottom of the tank that used to cover him completely. The fabric hugs him tightly, probably just on the side of not being painful even though it’s being stretched to its limit. It used to hang loosely on him, but he’s gained a good bit of weight since the two of you have been together. You smile to yourself at that, glad to see him looking so happy and taken care of.

He groans as he takes the first bite of his burger.

“Fuck, thank you again, baby,” he says through a mouthful of food. You nod at him, mouth full as well.

The two of you talk about your days as you devour your food, you finishing quicker than Frankie but staying at the table while he finishes his other burger and large fry. He tells you that his day went pretty good. All the guys showed up at work and there wasn’t an issue to keep them on the job for longer than necessary.

You wait until he finishes his last fry before you start to pick up the trash. You take his cap off of his head as you walk by him so you can brush his hair back and place a gentle kiss on top of his head. He smiles warmly at you when you put his cap back on and move to throw the trash away. You glance at the clock, biting your lip as you decide there’s probably a bit of time to do something before you go to sleep.

“You want to watch a movie, Frank?”

He hms thoughtfully as you walk back toward him. “Maybe, " he says.

You move to pass where he’s still sitting at the table, but you’re quickly stopped and pulled into his lap, both of your legs draped over his thighs. You yelp and wrap your arms around his neck for stability.

“Think I’d rather have a snack though,” he says through a grin as he rubs the side of his face against yours. He then rotates your body so that you’re leaning against his back.

“Frankie, honey,” you giggle despite catching his meaning. “You just ate!”

You turn and poke his full stomach to prove your point, but he only grunts and holds you tighter.

“I’m feeling greedy,” he rasps into your ear as he grinds his hardening length into your ass. “Need my dessert.”

You shiver, lust staring to cloud your head. Leave it to this man to want to fuck you after a huge meal. He doesn’t wait for you to respond as he lifts your shirt up and you raise your arms for him to tug it off. Your bra is next, discarded on the floor next to you within seconds.

You give in—which isn’t very hard—and let yourself relax into him. You moan and he leans down to lick up the side of your neck, his beefy hand traveling even lower to worm itself beneath the band of your panties. He finds your clit quickly and immediately starts to rub circles just the way you like. Your hips buck a bit as you crane your neck to devour his plush lips with yours.

“Mm-Frankie,” you whimper against him as your thighs begin to tremble. You feel him smirk against you in return but say nothing. All you can focus on is the building of your orgasm, that addicting feeling tugging deep inside of you with a promise for more.

He lets his fingers slip down to your hole and gather the slick there before bringing it back up to create a smooth movement atop your bud, his hand moving faster and faster until the coil snaps and you’re crying out and convulsing on top of him. His other hand wraps around you to stop your thighs from closing, forcing you to prolong your pleasure as he keeps up his slowing movements.

You’re panting when you come down to your high, practically drooling with the back of your head planted on Frankie’s shoulder. You’re not sure when that happened, you leaning back and clutching his forearms so tightly that there’ll be nail marks when you let him go.

He chuckles darkly as you release him from your clawing grip, trying to calm your breathing. You’re only slightly aware of him helping you off of his lap to stand. He takes your hand and leads you to the bedroom. You must only be in there for a half-second before he’s pushing you down on your back and dragging you until your ass is basically hanging off the edge of the bed.

“Frankie!” You screech his name at all the movement, the way he’s man-handling you. He only smiles cheekily through the grunt he lets out as he gets down on his knees in front of your cunt to kiss the inside of your thigh.

“Sorry, hermosa,” he coos. Though he’s very obviously not that sorry because he goes right to practically ripping your pants and underwear down your legs. You don’t even bother yelping or reprimanding him this time. You know that he’s determined now, and Frankie Morales doesn’t relent until he gets what he wants.

He’s back at your cunt—in your cunt—before you can blink. You scream as he burrows the entire lower half of his face into your soaked folds and grasps your legs over his shoulders. Your hands fly to his hair, knocking his cap off in the process of getting to his thick, soft curls between your fingers. He moans sharply as you tug, unintentionally forcing him closer to you. You don’t worry too much, you know he loves it. He once told you that he would die a happy man if you ever got tired of him and chose to suffocate him in your sweet pussy.

He licks and sucks at a furious pace, completely skipping a buildup and going right to the action. It’s unbelievable to you how quickly he manages to make you come sometimes. You yell his name as he eats you out like he’s mad at you. It’s so fucking good, this blinding pleasure making your entire body shake and your blood run firey hot. And you know he loves it just as much as you do.

You start to fall limp again, sweat covering your entire body as he keeps drinking you up. You hiss, your body bucking as you pull on his hair again to try to get him off of you. You’re about to tell him you need a break, but then he suddenly has a finger gliding into your hole, and then two, and you don’t get the chance as your second orgasm melds into your third. He finger-fucks you at an inhuman pace, almost hurting your poor pussy with how hard he shoves them into you as he sucks harshly on your clit. The sounds are obscene even through the blood you hear pumping in your ears.

He starts to slow after you ride out your third high, though you’re not sure if it’s because he’s taking pity on you or if he genuinely just can’t handle not being inside you for another second. You assume it’s the latter as you listen to the sound of his clothes being tugged off, one arm thrown over your eyes as you try to collect yourself.

“God, you look fucking gorgeous, baby,” Frankie groans as he admires your limp, sweat-slicked body.

You lift your arm to find him between your messy thighs again, this time standing over you. Despite the three fucking orgasms he just gifted you, you feel your cunt clench at the sight of him standing so imposingly in front of you. He’s so fucking big and intimidating. He’s stripped all the way, as naked as you now, letting you see every inch of his gorgeous damn body.

He watches you with a gaze that tells you he’s in the mood to pound you through the damn mattress. You find yourself excited, despite already being sore, as he takes a step forward and lines up his blunt tip with your slippery hole. You whimper and grip the sheets as he starts to make shallow thrusts to push in, stretching you despite your excessive preparation and the amount of times he’s had you before.

He moans right along with you, gripping your hips and pulling you onto him. Your eyes roll back and your mouth drops open once he’s fully seated and breathing heavily above you.

“Fucking christ, baby. You’re so fucking tight,” he accentuates the last word by pulling out slightly and thrusting hard back into you, making your back arch when he slams into that spot deep inside of you.

He starts at a slow but forceful pace, making you see stars every time he pushes himself in. You watch him with hooded eyes, admiring how gorgeous he looks when his own eyes close and his lips part. His pelvis comes flush with your ass each time and he uses the opportunity to grind into you, rubbing your walls in a way that makes you want to cry. Actually, you think you are. It’s only now that you feel tears start to leak down your ruddy cheeks.

Frankie must have opened his eyes at some point while you were lost in your head, because he’s suddenly letting out a breathy laugh and using one hand to thumb away the tears. Your toes curl at the gentle touch compared with the brutal treatment of your cunt.

“I know, sweetheart,” he coos. “I know it’s a lot.”

God, he feels so good leaning over you. You want him closer—need him closer.

“F-Frankie,” you manage to get out. “N-Need you closer.”

He smirks at you and thrusts a bit faster, pushing you up the bed and leaning over you to kiss you deeply. One hand stays on your hip as the other cradles your face, keeping you where he wants as he devours your lips in a messy kiss. You wrap your arms and legs around his broad body, smiling a bit when they don’t wrap around him all the way. You love when he overwhelms you like this, completely trapping you under him as he pummels into you. He’s barely even pulling out now, just slapping his hips to yours as fast as he can as he whines and moans into your mouth. The grip he has on your hip is crushing, but it feels good because it’s him.

The coil is tightening once again within you, making everything go hazy as you focus solely on how he edges you closer and closer with every slam of his cockhead against your cervix.

He’s getting frantic, too. You can tell by the way he loses control of the kiss and his thrusts get even shorter.

“F-Frankie,” you mumble into his lips. “M-More.”

He picks up the pace yet again, making you scream when he hits a spot that you didn’t even know existed. You jolt against him, startled but the burst of pleasure that sparks through you.

“M-More,” you beg him again, panting so hard you think you might pass out. You need more. More of him inside you, on top of you. You need everything to be filled with him until there’s no room for anything else.

“‘M so close, baby,” he whines to you.

“Frankie, please!”

He growls against you and tugs back, slipping out of you with a lewd squelch. You don’t have time to cry out from the loss though, because he’s back in an instant to grab you and flip you over on your stomach. Then he’s over you again, slamming back into you with a single thrust. You’re forced to stay flat, your hands scrambling for purchase in front of you until he drapes himself completely over you, threading your fingers through his so he can use them as leverage to fuck deep into you.

“Better?” He grunts out, almost angrily. He’s so heavy above you, using all of the force he has to nail you into the bed in furious ruts, the entire thing moving with each pound into you. You can’t respond though, finding your voice trapped in your throat as you convulse around him. You’ve never come this hard in your life, even with him. It’s what you wished for—to be so overwhelmed that everything else is purely pushed from you. It’s all static right now, your brain, your body. You think you may scream his name, but it might have been a bunch of gibberish.

“This what you need?” he asks as he fucks furiously down into you. To be fucked good—hmng—good an’ deep?”

You use what’s left of your fried brain to nod beneath him, practically drooling onto the bed sheets.

“F’kn deep,” you slur, half-delirious.

You let him continue to pound into you until grunts loudly beside your ear and you feel his cum spurting into you. It makes you moan again, the way he keeps fucking it deeper and deeper into you. You quiver and he groans as he starts to come down himself, joining you once again in the real world. Your ears are still ringing and your entire body feels like you got tossed off of a mountain and possibly into a bit of lava, but you find yourself laughing once Frankie untagles your fingers and rolls to the side, taking you with him.

He starts to laugh with you, neither of you saying a word but knowing exactly what the other is thinking. Which is something along the lines of ‘holy shit’. Despite your sweaty bodies, you sink back into him and let him hold you close, both of you stuck in giggling fits and sharing little kisses until you fall asleep a minute later.

*****

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angrytomatto · 6 months

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Summary of random facts about Merman because I'm bore (probably will update with time)

We talk about this in a discord server and I just want to leave it here in case I forget

(Every fact here is based of what has been said in game, fan theories aren't canonically facts in this list) Last update: December 2023

(This list probably contain spoilers)

Not only they learn how to walk with legs, but also how to swim in human form (Stitch Event)

It takes them time get used to breathe air properly, walking their first steps feel heavy and painful and some of them still feel uncomfortable in clothes (Floyd's Beans Camo story / Jade's School Uniform voice lines)

The black carriage that picks them up to go to NRC is an amphibious magic coach (Floyd's Ceremonial Robes voice line)

Merfolks and Humans are aware of each other but is extremely rare to encounter an actual merman on land (Magicam Monsters event)

They aren't afraid of each other anymore, since Ariel married Erik merfolks commonly come and go from land to sea(Some adults even own some stores on the shores) (Floyd's Beach Wear story)

The institution or land boot camp that train merfolks to became humans was founded canonically by Ariel. They need at least one month there to get used to their new body and how to eat our food correctly. Deep under water they only eat raw meat (Floyd's Beans Camo story / Jade's School Uniform story)

In there also teach them about the fauna on land by taking them to the zoo (Floyd Platinum Jacket story)

Merfolks also have passports once they live in human society (Floyd Platinum Jacket story)

They can turn into their true form willingly (Book 3 / Book 4 / Azul's Ceremonial Robes story / Vargas Camp event / Magicam Monsters event)

However they drink potions to keep their human form. Those are really expensive and if they forget to drink it in time they turn back into merman really slowly (Book 6 Riddle and Azul's tower)

The potion itself is paid by the school and currently they drink an experimental version that allows them to keep their human form for a week or two instead of a couple of days. And it taste awful (Book 6 Riddle and Azul's tower)

None of them have good eyesight: Azul mainly use only one par of glasses because it helps with the ''Business Style'' he's aiming for, and even if he can see pretty well without them the lenses are prescript just as his lab glasses (Trey's Halloween Dress story / Azul's Lab Coat voice lines) Jade roam around the school at night because he feel at ease in the dark (Ruggie's School Uniform story) Floyd is always amused of bright colored things because they looked really dark under the sea (Floyd's lab coat story)

Their skin in human form is really smooth. That's because they are cover by slime in their true form that keep their skin moist and soft (Azul's Ceremonial Robes story)

Octopuses are a pretty exotic race even between merfolks, they are way bigger that the common merman. They are slow, so they are usually targeted by predators but they also are brutally strong and are able to manipulate all their limbs freely (Book 3 / Book 4 / Book 6 / Happy Beans event / Vargas Camp / Azul's Beach Wear voice lines)

Halloween under water have very ominous and respectful traditions, way opposite that Halloween on land. There's haunted ships with ghost that lost their lives drowned, so they play music to calm their sorrows and loneliness. There's many pirate ghosts wandering on rotten ships that could actually harm young merfolks if they are not careful enough (Jade's Halloween Dress story / Floyd's Halloween Dress story)

The Coral Sea is a really small community and merfolks don't hesitate to eat each other in order to survive (Many hints said by the octatrio to mention here. And yes, Floyd WILL eat any student if he have to (Azul's Beach Wear voice lines))

They live under a Monarchy and the current prince is called Rielle. Is implied that the prince assist in the same elementary school that Azul, Jade and Floyd (Book 3) **( The 14 one doesn't mention all the times the tweels bully Azul by calling him slow because I will lost count) ______________ That's it for now, I will add more eventually but this ones are the ones I can remember now, feel free to tell me what did I miss~

#disney twisted wonderland #twst meme #twst facts #azul ashengrotto #floyd leech #jade leech #twistedverse

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emelinstriker · 8 months

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Mink (Ink MK) ♡ Opinions

Minky-Mink needs love too y'know.

Even if some people disagree with the choice of one's lover based on past experiences with said inky entity...

Also not gonna lie, I probably got the layout of Flower Fruit Mountain messed up cuz I just went purely by memory, so if something changed over the course of the show, and it shouldn't be like that in the current timeframe of the story, just ignore it- I can't be bothered with looking back at all the episodes involving the mountain and whatever happens on it- fdhgnfdhghfdg

Art drawn by me

♡ ~ Fluff ~ ♡

You and your friend MK were walking towards the waterfall on Flower Fruit Mountain. MK was supposed to train with Monkey King today, and you just decided to go with him to visit Sun Wukong again after not having seen him since the beach party you had following the downfall of the Brotherhood. You even brought some peach-flavored snacks for him!

Once MK split the waterfall and you entered, you almost immediately spotted Wukong seemingly napping on his peach tree. MK decided to grab his attention, "Monkey King! We're here!"

Monkey King opens his eyes and grinned, lazily waving. "Hey, bud. You're early." Then he noticed you before jumping off the tree to talk to the two of you. "Oh hey, (Y/N). What brings you here today? I don't think you said anything about joining in on training."

You shook your head, waving your hand dismissively as you let out a nervous chuckle. "Oh- Ah, no... I'm just here to visit. I haven't seen you since the beach party... And I brought snacks for you!" You then began to drop your backpack to shuffle around in it, grabbing some of the peach-flavored snacks. MK just stared at you in both awe and shock... How did you manage to fit all of those in there?! Meanwhile, Wukong snickered at the sight of all those snacks in your arms. He crossed his arms with a grin.

"Oh damn, you brought a lot... You sure these are for me? I could just, you know, use my hair and recreate those... Would've been a lot less expensive-" "No, no! I insist!" You interrupted him with a sheepish smile. "I'd rather have you eat actual food than food made from your hair, to be honest. It's a lot more comforting not having to ignore the fact that your food would technically be made out of your hair."

Wukong shrugged as he took the snacks from you. "Eh, point taken." He then glanced back over to your backpack and paused as something caught his eye. And yet, he didn't say anything as he slowly frowned in suspicion. His frown was quickly masked by a smile. "So, do you guys wanna come in?"

You grabbed your backpack off the ground and nodded before making your way inside with MK. Placing your bag on the couch, you turn back towards Wukong with a small smile as you place your backpack against the side of the couch. "Thanks for letting me hang out with you two, Monkey King. Otherwise I would've just spent the entire day at Pigsy's."

He waved his hand dismissively, "Don't mention it. It's a lot more fun hanging with me and MK than at the noodle shop, if I'm being honest here." He said kind of smugly. "Who knows what could happen next? What kind of adventures await us while simply being in this room?" Monkey King added dramatically. Then his eyes landed on your backpack again as he got suspicious once more. Just to make sure of what he saw, his eyes flickered golden for a moment to confirm your backpack's content to him, revealing exactly what he assumed he saw... He had to bring it up now, because what he saw was dangerous...

"Say, (Y/N)... Have you brought anything else besides snacks?"

You tilted your head at him in confusion. "Um... No? I only brought snacks as gifts. I don't have other gifts for you, sorry..."

He shook his head and crossed his arms. "I'm not talking about specifically gifts for me... I'm talking about if you brought anything else in general with you." You blinked at him, still confused, but at least he clarified his question.

"Um... I can just show you my backpack if that helps... I don't own any weapons or anything like that though, so I'm not sure why you're asking about this-" You said as you picked up your backpack, placing it on the couch. The moment you opened it, both MK and his mentor peer into your backpack with you. The ginger-furred simian already saw what was in there, but the sight shocked MK as he looks a bit... Confused? Betrayed?

"What... W-Why do you have that scroll, (Y/N)?" MK asked in disbelief as he looked at the black and blue scroll sitting at the bottom of your now-empty-of-snacks backpack. You were just purely confused about why both were stressing so much about the scroll... The scroll has never been evil since you got it a long while ago from your dad... All it did was give you a new friend... Or rather lover. And he's never done anything in the months you've known him personally.

"Nezha took the scroll and brought it back to where it came from... How do you have it? Did he give it to you? Did you steal it?" Wukong asked with a raised eyebrow. You nervously scratched your cheek. While your answer was simple and you didn't plan anything malicious, you really didn't feel comfortable with the way Wukong sounded... It was as if you were being interrogated for doing something horrible.

While you were trapped in the scroll with your friends before, something they didn't know about was how the scroll's curse never actually did anything to you, at all. And instead of reliving some form of memory of yours or the past like the others, you actually were just lost and wandering aimlessly... Until you met the curse and talked to it. Or, well, him... Because the curse took on the form of MK, but made out of ink, including imitating his voice. He probably took on your friend's form to appear friendlier, which worked to an extent... After all, you weren't used to seeing MK's monkey form made out of ink.

Long story short, you became friends with the scroll's curse and even got a lot closer after your dad gave you the now much more docile scroll... How he got his hands on it, you never questioned since this was far from the weirdest achievements he's managed to reach. You would not be surprised if he had connections to the Underworld or the Celestial Realm. He was probably also the one who brought back Mink. Because you remembered how the curse was practically blasted and defeated by MK before being used by Azure Lion... Well, the curse was responsive once more when you opened the scroll.

"W-Well, um... My dad gave it to me and told me to open it whenever I'm in trouble or feel lonely... S-So... Uh..." You stammered out. MK blinked at you in confusion and suspicion while his mentor's glare was fully set on suspicion.

"(Y/N), you've seen what that scroll does... even with the curse not actively haunting us or our past and future. Especially if it falls into the wrong hands... I'm not saying you're directly the one with the wrong hands, but you could be at risk of losing that scroll to someone who would only do bad with it. Azure Lion was one of those..." Monkey King states firmly, trailing off with a bit of sadness when he thought about his fallen brother.

You frowned at him. "But... Mink wouldn't let that happen twice... And I already am carrying the scroll around everywhere I go..." Your friends looked at you in confusion. Ah, right... They didn't know who Mink was. So you added, "Mink is the scroll's ink demon curse... I named him that myself and he seemed to like it-" "Wait, wait, wait-" MK cut you off, "You named the curse? And gendered it??"

You nodded awkwardly. Monkey King pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "You know what? How about you just give me the scroll and I'll make sure it reaches Nezha again. Or I might as well just bring it back to the Underworld myself." He then reached his hand into your backpack. However, before he could grab the item, the scroll began to move. Monkey King and his successor took a step back in fear of the scroll lashing out at them and sucking them back inside to trap them. You on the other hand just casually reached your hand into your backpack, which seemed to stop the scroll from moving. Then you pulled it out and and held it in your hand.

"Mink doesn't like it when someone else holds the scroll of memory after all that happened... Usually I'm the only one he doesn't mind being carried by." You said, shrugging. Your words only seemed to confuse your friends more and more. 'How could you be so casually with such a dangerous weapon of entrapment?', they were probably wondering. Then you got an idea. "How about I introduce you guys to him? I know you technically already met him, but he's changed since you guys have last seen him..." And before they could respond, you open the scroll. Dread is plastered across your two friends' faces as they prepare to fight.

As the familiar black ink splat onto the ground beneath the scroll, a kneeling figure was formed by it on top of the small puddle. An inky figure with a swaying monkey tail and blue lights for a face... It took on the form of MK as it seemingly grinned at the real MK and his mentor.

"It really has been a while... MK, Sun Wukong."

There was some serious tension in the air as they both glare daggers into the ink demon in front of them. Mink stretches a bit as he stands up from his kneeling position. "No need to look so hostile. I'm not even doing anything." He then wraps an arm around you and pulls you against his chest, wrapping his tail around your leg. Despite him being made out of ink, the form the curse took on was quite solid and somewhat warm to the touch. "I'm just here to make sure my beloved human feels comfortable."

"MK, Monkey King, meet Mink. He's my, um... goopy boyfriend." You said sheepishly, to which Mink seemed to smugly grin at the other two. MK and Monkey King were both baffled. You were dating a literal curse placed upon the Scroll of Memory to keep others trapped in it! How could they not be shocked??

Though, for MK it wasn't so much the fact that you were dating a curse that confused him, instead it was the fact that the curse decided to use its ink replica of him to be affectionate with you. This, in of itself, made him feel uncomfortable and a bit disgusted since he saw you more as something like a sibling... And basically seeing a depiction of himself being romantically involved with you was just weird to him.

"...Alright, that scroll really has to be returned though-" Monkey King started, but then was cut off the moment he tried reaching for the scroll in your hands. An audible, ominous growl could be heard coming from Mink, which sounded more like a corrupted monster than the usual voice replica of MK. The curse glared at the Great Sage Equal To Heaven while holding you close.

"That scroll now belongs to (Y/N). No one else will have it. I refuse to let anyone ever separate me from them!" Mink said angrily, which was a huge difference in behavior compared to when the group was trapped within the scroll.

Meanwhile, you also held tightly onto the scroll, hugging it close to your chest as you shook your head. "Sorry... But Mink and I already agreed on him staying with me... Which does unfortunately mean I have to keep the scroll around me at all times..."

"But does it really have to take on my form??" MK whined in response as he eyed Mink.

Mink shrugged in return before letting go of you to cross his arms. "What can I say? I just like this form. It's simple, not too tall or too short, not unfamiliar to (Y/N)... And I get to off-handedly remind you of our conversation a while ago! Isn't that fun~?" He said that last part rather mockingly, which made MK clench his fists. On the other hand, Monkey King's eyes softened a little as he looked at you, worried.

"(Y/N), think about this... Even if it- he- the curse, isn't doing anything right now, you can't forget about that scroll being more of a weapon against even the divine... Mink might trap more people in the scroll. And maybe even trap you in there agai-" "I would never do that!" Mink angrily cut him off, MK's replica voice sounded insulted. "Out of all the beings in existence that can get imprisoned, my beloved human will never be one of them! They can enter and leave the scroll freely whenever they want. It's already like their second home anyway." The ink curse added firmly before taking your hand into his.

Monkey King scoffed. "In my opinion, it would still be best to bring you back to where you belong. In the scroll, and in the Underworld."

"Well too bad, bud. I'm not leaving. You can't keep me from (Y/N)." Mink retaliated. The MK copy then seemed to pout as he shows a blue-glowing tongue, pointing it in the simian's direction like a stubborn child. Monkey King's eye seemed to twitch in annoyance.

"Mink isn't even outside of the scroll in public... He only ever comes out whenever we're alone..." You added, trying to defend the curse. Monkey King hesitantly sighed.

It took some time and some more arguments, but eventually MK and his mentor gave in and agreed to let you keep Mink... On the condition that Mink continues to stay in the scroll around people, and of course that you never use the scroll against others, even if you hated them. As if you were going to plan anything with the scroll anyway...

But on the other hand, Monkey King told Nezha about you, Mink, the scroll, and your relationship with the scroll's curse, and... uh...

He was not happy.

Like, at all.

However, that did not stop Mink from being with you. This actually ended up becoming more of a game of Nezha trying to "rescue" you while Mink would just hide you in the scroll whenever the Lotus Prince was around. And while Monkey King usually wouldn't help you with Mink, he would slowly start to join in on this little game and be the one to hide the scroll, pretending like he didn't see it. Just to mess with Nezha for the fun of it.

Soon, the rest of the crew found out about Mink's more permanent reappearance. While it also took a while, they did slowly start to accept him. Pigsy was the most pissed off one, just because Mink would end up leaving ink everywhere he went in the noodle shop... And of course, when Pigsy would tell you to it all clean up due to Mink technically being your responsibility, all the ink on the ground would suddenly disappear the moment you turned the corner to grab a mop. Sandy was probably the most open to the idea of you finally having found someone to love. Even if that someone was the literal curse that kept the group within the scroll... But at least Mink was nice to talk to! On top of that, Tang tried talking to him about history since Mink knew about everything immortalized within the scroll, to which Mink would ominously reply, "Wanna see for yourself?"

And of course, MK and Mei were still very much on edge... Especially MK due to, well, the entire topic of you literally dating an ink copy of him. Though, Mei kind of over it after realizing that she could now have another cool friend to hang out and have fun with. Mink's ink really helps in scary pranks, after all...

Then there was your relationship...

"Listen. You didn't specify when you said you wanted to have our next date on Flower Fruit Mountain." Mink said with a sly grin. You gave him a comedically unamused look.

"But I said Flower Fruit Mountain, not Flower Fruit Mountain within the scroll."

"Oh c'mon, there's not much of a difference anyway. The mountain barely even changed from the memories in the scroll. In my opinion, anyway. Besides, the actual mountain wouldn't let me do this-"

Suddenly a bunch of fireflies were summoned around you two as you sat on a cliff, leaning against Mink's inky body. You looked at them in awe as they lit up the night sky of the mountain's memory. "...They're beautiful."

"I could just throw in something cheesy. But the sentence of 'Not as beautiful as you' wouldn't exactly apply..." He started as you looked at him a bit offended.

But before you could chew him out over that comment, he added, "...It wouldn't apply because I've seen many use this line in the past, and literally none of the memories displayed within the entire history of the scroll's archive would compare to you. Not even all of them combined..." Which in turn made you snort as your offended look faded. Mink gave you a sly grin again at your reaction.

"...Just in my opinion, sweetheart."

[ Masterlist ]

#ink mk x reader #lmk x reader #lmk mink x reader #lego monkie kid x reader #lmk ink mk #mink x reader #lmk ink mk x reader #ink mk #lego monkie kid #pls let this work

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capfalcon · 2 years

Text

you know, i know a part of season 5 of leverage is eliot teaching parker to love and enjoy food, and i think the origin of that makes me so sad but also so in awe of the character development and world building that leverage had.

in her “home” warehouse thing, parker only basically had boxes of cereal, and it makes sense. she didn’t have a home. she didn’t have parents who made her food. she was a thief. she was on the run, she probably didn’t have tons of money at any given time, and she never had the time or resources to learn to cook. so what’s easy to eat, reliable, and not very expensive? cereal. all you really need is a bowl and maybe some milk, which she could’ve gotten pretty easily. you don’t even really need the milk, if pressed. and it’s sad, it’s heartbreaking really. because at first, it’s introduced as this funny thing she does, hoarding cereal and only eating that, but it makes perfect sense. she didn’t have anyone cooking her meals, she didn’t have anyone keeping her fed. it was on her to find food, to keep herself alive. so she found a food that she could eat, and she stuck with it.

in the background of jobs sometimes, we see her eating cereal at nate’s place, etc. and i have so many personal thoughts about this, like nate personally making sure that his place is always stocked for her, and the rest of the crew doing the same. but i also think part of it in my head is about them letting her. letting her come into their spaces and having food for her, and letting her have it, so she’s comfortable.

in relation to eliot teaching her about food, it makes perfect sense that she doesn’t really get it. because what do we always talk about? food being love, right? food relating to family? food being a place to gather? parker never had any of that. any of it. she’s never had that relationship with food or people, at least in the past. to her food is the same as sleep, necessary but not really anything to dwell on.

and i think, that, more than anything else, to me, encapsulates parker. one of the most heartbreaking scenes in the show for me is the one where parker doesn’t want to turn the orphaned kids over to the government because they’ll be hurt, or “turn out like me (her).” parker knows that she isn’t okay. parker knows that she doesn’t fit in. parker knows all of these things, and she understands the gap between her and “normal” people. and i think that gap is so exquisitely captured in her relationship with food, because food is about so much more than itself, but parker never got to experience that. food is love, and parker never got that growing up. so i think it’s really so important that eliot is the one teaching her about food, because he’s one of the first people that’s truly, really loved her.

#parker #leverage #im CRYING #eliot spencer #parker leverage

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princesssmars · 2 months

Text

siobhan roy gets what she wants, and sooner or later its gonna drive her husband insane. 18+. fem!reader. fxfxm threesome. toms pov.

when she first brings up the idea, tom awkwardly laughs and goes back to his dinner. its some fusion chicken dish at this insanely expensive place in manhattan, no prices on the menus. he asks her to repeat herself and she gives the same response.

a threesome. sex between him, her and another woman. but notnjust some random waitress or escort from some top of the line site like willa. she suggests you. her best friend of the past eighteen years.

the number eighteen just reminds of his shiv's insistence on not having a baby for at least ten years. he picks at his food until she lightly pushes his shoulder to look at her.

she's busy explaining the terms of their agreement and how this is beneficial to the both of them while he just watches. her eyes are squinting like they do when she smiles, and he thinks about the last time she had a real smile while talking to him.

he bites the inside of his cheek and agrees.

tom thought you were hot. and it was a bit scary. he'd heard some social media startup at a banquet remark how it was a shame your family has prioritized the humanities and technology for five generations, because if there was any pick of them to woo the world with a face and body it'd be you.

he never had any doubts about how much he cared for shiv. she was shiv fucking roy, he couldnt believe she was talking to him in that nightclub in ithaca. but he'd be a liar if he said he didn't let his eyes wander the first time he met you.

but he'd also be a liar if he said he'd never questioned just how close you and shiv were. his first introduction to a family and friends golf trip, and he studied how she corrected your stance from behind you, pressing her body into yours. but girls could be..touchy with each other. that was normal. what wasn't normal was roman teasing shiv for 'taking any chance to remind me you got to have a lesbo relationship with the girl everyone wanted in boarding school.' she gives a 'fuck you' and a punch to his arm before sitting next to tom, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

after that, he notices all of the little hand grabs under tables, the shared smiles when one of either of your siblings embarrasses themselves, and the late nights where shiv stays out with you to "go over some business". but he stays quiet. you're just best friends. and he knows the roys' have...odd relationships with the people around them. he's glad shiv has you to rely on when he's not around.

now he's standing over the bed, their bed, as the two of you giggle while shiv tugs your dress over your head, moving to yank your underwear down with quickness. he isn't sure where he's supposed to be or what he's supposed to be doing. a mixture of arousal and uneasiness grows in the pit of his stomach.

he feels like a creep just watching so he settles beside the two of you on the bed, feeling like he's made a wrong move once the both of you stop and your eyes settle on him.

"aw babe, i forgot you were here for a second. don't be shy. she won't bite." shiv consoles him, although the first part of her sentence does anything but. her cut hair rests softly on her shoulders, the black lace of her bra looking so nice against the paleness of her skin. he gives a gentle nod and turns his body towards you.

"yeah, tom. won't bite unless you ask me to." your hand grasps his wrist and brings it to your chest, his palm spreading out over your nipple and squeezing until you let out a hum. he eases into it, jumping a bit when a loud moan leaves your throat and your head goes back.

he looks down and shiv is between your legs, her eyes closed in content as she buries her mouth into you. she doesn't tease you like she does with him, hands bringing your legs to rest over her shoulders and digging into your thighs. he can only watch as your hand moves downward, ready to tell you that shiv hates having her hair pulled, when you get a grip in the red locks and pull, the woman groaning from between your legs.

he knew it all along, but this, all of this, cements it. you've done this before. shiv, the love of his life, his wife, has slept with her best friend, the maid of honor at their fucking wedding, and never told him. he makes eye contact with you, and you give him a smile as you grip his head and bring him into sloppy kiss.

throughout the night he can picture all of it from shiv's point of view. sticking her tongue in your mouth and tasting your lip balm. biting into the skin of your neck to hear your cries. licking over your clit until you cum into her mouth. doing all of it and more to her in return.

he leaves autopilot when he's on the bottom, mouth agape as you sink onto him and take a breather as shiv sits on his face. he's back inside his mind, fucking shiv's cunt with his mouth until his jaw aches and his veins cry out from gripping her thighs.

she normally chastises him for it, hating when he leaves marks. but right now she's preoccupied in you, and if just the sounds of you two kissing is sending him into a frenzy he can only imagine what it looks like. you're laughing, and she's laughing, and his ears strain to hear what the two of you are whispering about over the sounds of sex.

"god, you look so fucking hot-"

"'m so glad you finally did this, god, shit, got so tired of waiting-"

"i know, aw, i know baby. just a little longer, baby."

"im close, fuck tom, shiv!"

"god i fucking love you-"

tom's hips buck up as his high hits him like a freigh train, cumming inside of the condom he had fit on beforehand. you both tumble off of him, and once he gets his bearings he slowly stands and throws the condom into the trash. as he's walking into the en-suite bathroom shiv calls out that you're staying the night, her hand rubbing up and down your leg as youlay out on their bed.

can you tell which one of them i like more. its shiv i want to fuck shiv.

he smiles and closes the door.

#succession #succession hbo #succession x reader #shiv #shiv roy #shiv roy x reader #siobhan roy #siobhan roy x reader #tom wambsgans #tom wambsgans x reader #tomshiv #tom shiv x reader

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glorious-imagines · 5 months

Text

The Gala .I

p2 p1

It was the annual Wayne Family Gala. Y/n had been invited. She debated whether or not she should go. Going meant she would definitely see Jason. But she would also get to see Dick and everyone else. She missed them. And Alfred would be upset if she didn't show. Jason's girlfriend or not.

She huffed and picked up her phone. She sent a quick text and then went to her closet. This year's theme was the Moonlit Masquerade Ball. She had absolutely nothing to match. She would need to go shopping. It was going to be expensive, too. She huffed and began getting ready for a trip to her favorite tailor.

Just before she's out the door, she gets a return text from her current… uh… person? She wasn't sure she was ready to give him any sorta title. He was just someone she was 'talking to' at the moment. Anyway, he confirmed to be her date for the gala.

She briefly wondered if Jason would bring Isabella. She hoped not. That witch would definitely try to start something. The entitled cunt. She huffed and shook her head to clear her thoughts. Shopping was too good an activity to be marred by thoughts of awful people.

…

Jason didn't want to go to the annual gala. He just didn't have the energy to get all gussied up. On the other hand, he glanced at Isabel, who was making herself some food. He could use a bit of time away from his baby mama. The alcohol would definitely be strong enough for him to forget his regrettable choices. He'd have Gabby grab him something and then get ready at her place.

He nodded to himself, taking a sip of his coffee. It was disgusting, but he didn't make a show of it. She tried her best. He missed the homebrewed teas Y/n used to make. She had him try chai with just a hint of sugar. It turned out to be his favorite.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Isabel asked, bringing him out of his thoughts as she sat across from him.

"Hm?" he questioned.

"You were smiling. It had to have been a good thought. What was it?"

He hadn't realized he was smiling. Is still smiling. Guess Y/n could always get him to his happy place. He didn't even know he was stressed enough to need one. He made sure his smile didn't falter so as not to raise any suspicions about himself. When did he start faking his happiness like this?

"Was thinking maybe we could eat out tonight. I'm kinda craving a tiramisu."

Isabel frowned. "Blech, that sounds so gross to me right now." She rubs her belly. "Maybe no chocolate for a while."

Jason watched her hands move in circular motions around her belly. She was huge now. With twins. Both boys. He wanted to sigh heavily. Release a bit of the stress he felt. Sometimes he felt that she would rub her stomach to kind of manipulate him in some small way. She didn't say it, but he knew she expected him to not have what he wanted. It would make her sick. The babies apparently weren't fans of chocolate. It barely had 'chocolate' in it.

He makes his smile soften and gently rubs her arm. "Well, it won't go anywhere. We can get whatever you like." "I'd really like a boisenbery cheesecake." She smiled innocently.

They had gone to this diner multiple times. She always got the same thing. Bacon egg cheeseburger with lettuce, tomato, extra onions, and pickles; a large side of fries with barbecue sauce and mustard. And lastly, two, no, three—wait, four—slices of boisenbery cheesecake. Two to take home.

"I knew you would say that. That's why I got it for delivery. Since I'll be busy tonight, I even got a whole boisenberry cheesecake made. Just for you." This made her swoon and hug him. He couldn't lie, It made his heart swell a bit to see her so happy. He'd make a mental note to do more things like this for her. The situation wasn't ideal, but there was no reason they both had to suffer.

"I'll be gone for a bit, so I asked Gabby to keep an eye on you for me. Her numbers' on the fridge if you need anything."

"Okay, at least try to be safe."

He hummed as he walked out the door. …

Exactly how does one run into their ex as soon as they arrive? Y/n knew she was playing with fire by coming. But arriving at the same time as Jason? Well, she was just that lucky, wasn't she?

Dick walks over to the entrance with a big grin on his face. "How's my fave couple?"

Y/n turns to Jason with a slightly annoyed and curious expression. "You didn't tell your family that we broke up?" Dick looks a bit down. "You guys broke up?"

Jason rolls his eyes and says, "Well, forgive me, but I've been a bit busy."

Y/n takes off her jacket and hands it to the attendee while nodding as if remembering certain facts. "Right, you do have to prepare to bring your seed into this world…" Dick is shocked. "You're having a baby?"

Jason instantly frowns. "Real nice, Y/n. Why don't you grow the fuck up?"

Y/n feigns caring, "Where is your baby mama, anyway? Both our invitations have a plus one."

Dick has finally noticed that the air between them is a bit hostile and dons a nervous grin."

"What, like you brought someone?" Jason says thinking he's had the last laugh.

Y/n sports a devilish grin. "I would never come to a Wayne Gala alone. He should be walking in right… about… there he is."

In walks Conner Kent. He is dressed to the nines in a midnight blue tux with a corset. It matched perfectly with Y/n's midnight blue strapless gown, which hugged her body in all the right places. Jason would have taken the time to appreciate her choice of dress if they hadn't had their little spat.

Conner wrapped his arms around Y/n and kissed her cheek. The action made Jason nauseous.

"It might be best if you make yourself scarce, Todd," Damian says as he walks straight into the scene. "We're not going to stop inviting her over just because you broke up."

Jason wanted to strangle Damian. Instead, he opted for glaring, hoping the kid would somehow catch fire. "Hey all, it's my first time to a Wayne function. I heard they're famous." Conner spoke with a chill smirk.

Jason's gaze shifts back to Y/n who still has that shit-eating grin, like she won the battle. He is pissed. And hurt. His hands ball into tight fists, and he's about to do something to add to his list of regrets…

Dick clears his throat, bringing his hands together with a clap, smiling away all the tension. "Okay, we're happy to have you, Conner. Help yourself to everything, and I'll see you later." He throws an arm around Jason's shoulders and leads him away just as Y/n and Conner start a conversation with Damian.

Dick leads Jason to Bruce's study and closes the door behind them. Jason kicks over a chair in frustration. "Damn it!"

"So, a lot has happened, obviously. You and Y/n broke up. Presumably, because you're having a baby… " Dick leans casually against Bruce's desk with his arms crossed over his chest.

Jason slides down a nearby wall with his hands over his face. "A fucking Super? She's fucking a Super." "And you care because you still have strong feelings for her."

The statement makes Jason groan loudly in his hands. "We were supposed to spend the rest of forever together…"

"And now you have a baby on the way."

"Babies." Jason corrects. "Isabel is having twins."

"Isabel?" Dick sits next to him. "As in…"

"Yup."

"Shit…"

"I thought I did the right thing by ending things with Y/n. I didn't want her to bear the brunt of our relationship while I was off being a dad. He sweeps his hands roughly through his hair, a heavy sigh leaving him. "But I fucked up. I fucked up bad. I miss her so much."

...

"So this is the hangout spot?" Conner casually saunters into Bruce Wayne's office like he owns it.

"The rest of the manor is closed to guests. I can have someone point you in the direction of the guest restrooms." Dick suggested about to call for an aid.

"Actually, I wanted to speak to Jason." He gave a lopsided grin.

Dick scrutinized Conner, ready to deny him access to Jason entirely.

"It's fine, Dick." Jason went poker-faced, stuck his hands in his pockets, and walked out.

Conner saluted Dick with two fingers and followed Jason. They ended up on a balcony overlooking the gala. Jason notes that Y/n is talking to Babs. He fleetingly thinks about reading their lips before turning to Conner.

"It's crazy how things work out, right?" Conner starts, "One minute I'm crushing hard, and the next, I'm her date to one of the famous Wayne Galas."

"So, you wanted to rub it in." Jason challenged as his face twisted.

"No, you misunderstand." Conner held his hands up with the feint of a nervous smile plastered on his face. "I don't know what went down with you two. I do know that you were couple goals."

"And?" Jason grumbled impatiently.

"Well, it's obvious you're the fuckup in this equation. Otherwise, she wouldn't be so pissed."

"No way, Y/n is dating such a tool."

Conner claps him on the shoulder a little too hard. "I just wanted to make sure that you knew that she isn't yours to make happy anymore."

Jason scoffs and roughly shrugs his hand off him. "Y/n doesn't belong to anyone. And while we aren't together anymore, there's not a chance in hell I'm leaving her in your hands." Jason shoulder-checks Conner as he walks away, fists balled tightly.

~~~ I was gone for a year… lets not make it a big deal. I even came with a gift… 😏

@iyuuii @jaguarthecat @rhyanna6012

#jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd imagine #original post #glori imagine #dc universe imagines

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softevnstan · 1 year

Note

From the NSFW genarator

reader handing Bucky Barnes a bowl of cream/chocolate/honey and telling them to spread them on their own body where they want it eaten by reader. Bucky Barnes eagerly complies, and everything starts (or ends) with a sloppy smear on person Bucky Barnes's lips.

pairing. bucky barnes x gender neutral!reader

summary. for valentine's day, bucky brings you a bowl of whipped cream and strawberries. with a game proposition, you very quickly come to learn you're hungry for a different type of cream.

warnings. bucky loves you with all his heart but he's also a hard dom at heart. misuse of strawberries and whipped cream, dom/sub undertones, spitting/spit, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, food play - whipped cream, facefucking, petnames (specifically 'doll' and 'sugar', but these are intended to be for any partner, not just f), fluff, pre-established relationship SMUT - minors DNI. reader's bits are not mentioned in depth here so gender is ambiguous, i like all of my stories to be as inclusive as i can make them :)

a.n. hi, nonny, i wanted this to be out on valentine's day but some things in my personal life held that up. additionally: kinda interpreted this a little bit of the way i wanted to and the way i thought i'd best enjoy writing it, so bucky is the one with the game in mind (bonus: listen to this song as your background music like i did to add to the experience) -- reader is nerdy and likes things like books and candles and reading (reader is me projecting lbr)

also winterdevil friendship briefly mentioned bc i can

w.c. 7.3k

You were only a few pages into your new book - ‘Good Omens’; You’d heard good things about the story in its witty writing and amusing tale.

Bucky had been paying attention when you’d both gone on a bookshop date and scoured the shelves hopefully for the novel. Even when asking about the bookstore’s directory, the worker reluctantly let you know the book wasn’t in stock. You’d shrugged the loss off with a warm smile; ‘Better luck next time, right?’

Imagine your delight when Bucky brought you a red gift bag with four golden arrows decoratively laid horizontally and stacked upon one another with the words ‘Happy Valentine’s Day’. Inside the bag had even more delightful contents; Peeling past the elegant golden tissue paper, you were excited to find your very own copy of the novel you’d been unable to find in stores. Additionally was a box of chocolates and a candle scented ‘Rose & Apple’.

“Aw, Bucky,” you swooned, “I thought we said no gifts…?” “I know,” Bucky admitted, moving around the kitchen island to come to stand behind you; Arms of flesh and vibranium slowly winding around your waist to hug your body to his own, settling into a comfortable hold so naturally. “But I like seeing you smile.”

You looked fondly at the cover of the book, thumb gently brushing over the paperback cover before setting it down on the counter. You bit your lips together in an appreciative smile, and you felt Bucky’s grin against the side of your neck where he tucked away. Nose rubbing affectionately against your pulse before pressing a chaste kiss.

“...At least now you won’t feel surprised when I tell you I got you a few gifts of your own,” you reveal as you turn your head to usher Bucky’s chin up. “Oh, of course, you got me something anyways!” Bucky huffed on an amused laugh, eyes crinkled in the corners with his smile, and your heart was left to melt.

He nosed into you lovingly, nuzzling and then pressing foreheads together. You took the opportunity to drape your arms around Bucky’s shoulders in a warm embrace; the rest of your quiet valentine’s day was spent peacefully with expensive sushi ordered to your shared apartment, moving the furniture and putting his records on to sway together playfully with giggles and kisses, then wrapped up with movies in the living room and popcorn kernels in between the couch cushions from the way you’d been pelting pieces at one another. You needed no fancy dinners or dates. You both were capable of making a night-in a remarkable memory all on its own.

Though the favor you called in from Zemo wound up with gifting Bucky a signed copy of ‘The Hobbit’ signed by J.R.R. Tolkien himself, and that was pretty good at also making an evening remarkable. The absolute awe in Bucky’s eyes and the way he’d gone slack-jawed when unwrapping the book was worth the six digits that were poured into the cost. Zemo had more than enough to spend and was happily willing to pay off his debt. A book was child’s play for Baron - simple.

You'd only been a few pages into your new book; Having been eager to begin drinking in the story as soon as possible. Bucky knew you were a bookworm; it's part of what you two had so in common - Bucky knew how to appreciate a good story, too. Eagerly diving into the paperback and excitedly tearing through pages was what you did best; On Multiple occasions where Bucky and you had surprised one another with blind-book dates and annotated novels for one another, reading was perhaps a love language between the both of you.

So you’d think Bucky would’ve expected that from you as soon as that book was between your nimble fingers. Good luck with any attempts that may sway your attention or distract you as a whole; everyone should know it’s useless to try. But Bucky wasn’t everyone else. Bucky knew you and knew how to wriggle his way in between you and a good book.

And his key tool for that this evening seemed to be a wooden food tray with a bowl of hulled strawberries and a tub of whipped cream, and then an additional can that made you raise a brow. Any skepticism was dropped in moments given the natural delight you felt with Bucky in a room. When it was just the two of you, he was the sweetest man you’d ever met. “Surprise,” Bucky beamed softly, earning an amused smile from you in the process. He moved from the archway of the kitchen to step into the living room, rounding the coffee table to take his seat beside you on the couch.

“Strawberries? You shouldn’t have,” you hum appreciatively, picking up your bookmark to hold your page; You didn’t dog-ear your pages like some savage.

“Strawberries and Valentine’s Day go hand in hand last I checked. Whipped cream just makes it even better.” the soldier defends, earning a playful roll of your eyes.

“You’re makin’ me feel like a chump here, Bucky, we said no gifts and surprises,” you softly protest albeit with little sternness to your voice. Book abandoned on the side table of the couch, you leaned to reach for a piece of fruit.

“Ah ah ah,” Bucky stops you, vibranium hand coming to cover the mouth of the bowl. “This isn’t for nothin’, I wanna play a game, sweetheart…” The sultry purr to Bucky’s voice insinuates he’s up to no good. “Huh?” You pause, confused as you look between Bucky’s hand and the bowl. A game? “I should’ve known there’d be a catch. You’re a menace, James.” The words are light and teasing; No real harm behind them.

“Oh quit bein’ so dramatic,” Bucky playfully chides with a teasing pinch to your outer thigh - it makes you squeak in delight and burst into soft laughs before shooing his hand away. Bucky absolutely thrives on your smile and laugh; It drives him crazy. “I’m not dramatic, I’m melodramatic!” you titter happily. “Well, if by ‘melodramatic’ you mean ‘theatrical’,” Bucky commented with a mischievous grin as he safely set the tray on the coffee table. You took the liberty of pulling the throw pillow you’d been laying on and help it live up to its name; Hitting Bucky in the shoulder with the cushion for his ‘theatrical’ comment.

“You love me and my melodrama theatrics all the same, don’t act like you don’t.” “Alas, it’s true.” he sighs sweetly, nothing but love in his gray eyes as he says it; Smitten. The softness of it helps melt some of the banter that had been building. “...And what was this ‘game’ you were talking about, exactly, Bucky?”

Bucky’s eyes light up with arousal, wetting his lips and treating the question as though he couldn’t wait to answer. “Have you ever plaid chicken before, sunshine?” Bucky inquires, and your head shakes side to side. “Alright, I brought out whipped cream. Wherever one person smears whipped cream, the other has to lick it off. The first one to refuse - or chicken out - loses.”

Your own gaze widens with delight at the sound of the provocative game. At least a game was something you could get behind, and it definitely had a means of spicing things up with Bucky; Not that your sex life was boring, but something new every now and again was exciting for the both of you.

“Aw,” Bucky tuts sympathetically, “I can see it on your face, poor thing. The way your eyes lit up… Sheesh, people are gonna think m’not takin’ care of my babydoll.” The heat that rises to your face is familiar and leaves your chest feeling fluttery. “You do take care of me, Bucky,” you softly utter, squeezing your thighs together. “I wanna play.” the words are airy when they leave your lips, and the voice in which you speak makes Bucky stifle a soft groan in reply.

“Knew you would, baby. Such a perfect little thing, always onboard for whatever I want to try.” Bucky hums his approval and something inside of you swoons for the praise. He even takes a moment to use his fingers and tenderly brush the stray hairs from your face; touching you nothing but gently.

“Uh huh,” you confirm with a jerky nod and a doe-eyed look as Bucky smiles, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. He reaches for the container of whipped cream, popping the lid off. “Wait.” The thought creeps up on you.

Bucky stills briefly, eyes flickering to your face in a brief haze of concern. Pausing the act he’s been putting on for a moment to assure you’re not being genuine when you ask him to ‘wait’. You swallow around the tightness in your throat, attention solely on Bucky as you watch his studying face. Leave it to Bucky to be ready to fret over you at the drop of a dime.

“What if I win?” Bucky’s expression falls for a brief moment before twisting into disbelief and amusement. He laughs, entertained but relieved that’s where your concerns lie rather than somewhere more concerning.

“If you win, huh? Hmm,” Bucky takes a deliberate moment to hum and you shift with eager anticipation. Curious for whatever delicious thoughts may be brewing in that beautiful head of his. “Why don’t you choose — What would my babydoll want as a prize…?” the drawl of his voice nearly makes you squirm where you sit on the couch.

Your mind runs wild with ideas for half a moment before settling on something simple; “You have to go down on me, mouth only. No hands to help.” A swell of pride in your chest at the thought, you could already imagine Bucky looming over you and the warmth of his breath on your core before delving in without the aid of his hands.

Bucky seems to like the idea as well if the devilish way he watches you is anything to go off of.

“Sounds like a deal, and if you lose, you go down on me, sunshine.” You would hardly consider that a losing game.

“Sounds like a fair match - may the best player win,” you chuckle, the words a meager attempt to take back the reigns on your confidence and not become complete mush for this man by default. Bucky had this charming way of entrancing you. He did it to everyone that got to know him, half the time Bucky didn’t even need to think about it.

“I’ll get us started,” the sergeant takes lead - setting the lid of the whipped cream container on the coffee table and using a spoon he’d brought along with him to scoop up a dollop from the container. Messily, Bucky smears a dab across his bottom lip - all too aware of what he’s doing. Bucky may look innocent, but there are devil horns holding up that halo. You wonder if that’s a reflection of his friendship with Matt.

The grin Bucky wears is devilish when he looks at you; Eyes piercing and somehow even seductive with a swipe of whipped cream on his bottom lip. A soft giggle emits from your being before leaning to pluck up a strawberry. You use the piece of fruit to swipe along Bucky’s bottom lip, successfully scooping up traces of the whipped cream before taking a bite of the strawberry. The taste is ripe and sweet, no wonder they’re occasionally considered a form of natural aphrodisiac.

Bucky’s flesh hand finds your wrist tenderly after the first bite, causing you to arch a brow.

“Licking, sunshine.” Bucky corrects. “Pick at strawberries all you want, but the rules of the game required you to use your mouth. Otherwise, that’s not nearly as fun, is it?”

It’s moments like those that made you feel all light and fuzzy. When Bucky talks to you as though you were a helpless and useless thing; It makes your brain fog up with cotton with the way he speaks down to you.

“No, Bucky,” You exhale sweetly. “Good baby,” Bucky’s hand releases your wrist to lift and cup your cheek, giggling when you’re faced with the whipped cream on his lip again. Not as easy to take him so seriously. Bucky gives an amused huff at the response. “Now c’mon, before this melts and you have to lick that up, too.”

Popping the rest of your strawberry into your mouth, you finished chewing and swallowing before cupping Bucky’s jaw to steady him. Holding him in place when you lean forward into his space; being able to smell the traces of sandalwood and cinnamon on his skin made you shiver. It didn’t matter how many times you were like this with Bucky, your belly filled with butterflies every time in the best way. Tentatively you drag your tongue across his bottom lip, whipped cream sweet on your tongue.

There’s no chance to pull away when Bucky catches your lips in an immediate kiss following. Mouth slotting to yours in the opportunity that the man has, grinning against your lips like the cat that got the cream. His large palm lifted to come and cradle your cheek, the tips of his fingers brushing into your hair where it cups under your eat. Palm cooler than the average person due to the way his body ran cold, but your own warmth helped balance out the temperature difference from time to time. Your cheek felt like fire beneath this hand.

Bucky kisses you hungrily, a searing claim when he licks hot into your mouth and makes you whimper and shiver. Your fingers still hold his bearded cheeks as Bucky takes his time tasting you; Enjoying it far more than any whipped cream he could ever buy. Bucky parts only after he’s left you breathless, wiping a thumb at his bottom lip with a low chuckle. Your head is left to spin with your heart hammering in your ears.

“Been achin’ to kiss you like that all day,” Bucky confesses. Your lips tingle, mourning the loss of Bucky pressed against your like that. “You’ve had countless chances, Bucky - we’ve been here alone all day.” You defend while lacking a legitimate malice to your tone.

“It’s different,” you almost wave him off at the defense and make yourself busy with the whipped cream when Bucky elaborates. “I wanted to be soft with you today; I think we both deserve a little tenderness every once in a while. But sexy games give me a reason to kiss you like that.”

“Sometimes I struggle to believe that you’re the same stoic sergeant everyone quakes in front of.”

“I’m not; Not with you.” The words are raw, and it would make your heart turn to mush if you weren’t turned on by his kindness.

“You’re sexy when you’re sweet,” you coo, fingers brushing up his jaw to draw Bucky in for another quick kiss.

“And you’re sexy all the time, sunshine.” Bucky hums right back before meeting you partway for a small exchange of pecks. You both linger there for a moment, the kisses stolen not nearly as heady or heavy. Then you’re taking your turn. Parting lips and Bucky nearly chases your touch for more when you tut your tongue. A mock of his earlier tutting. “Aww,” you echo back to him, half condescending and half frisky. “I see it on your face, people are gonna think m’not taking care of my Buckybear.” though with your delivery, the words are far less menacing and end with you breaking the character to laugh, especially when Bucky is already crumbling into chuckles in front of you.

“‘Buckybear’?” Bucky parrots incredulously and entertained. “Trying out new nicknames,” you say with an innocent shrug, plucking up the spoon to get more cream on the utensil. “I think it’s cute.” “I like it,” Bucky agrees, shifting to get comfortable on the couch while his predatory gaze follows your hand. “It’s a nickname you gave me, just… Maybe let’s not let Sam hear this one.” “Does he still call you ‘Buckaboo’ sometimes?” You ask, momentarily distracted and appreciative that you and Bucky are able to break up seductive moments with cute ones. You’re convinced it’s proof you’re both truly in love to be able to be this casual and open with one another.

“Unfortunately. Torres heard Sam over the commlinks last week, both of them were dying of laughter.” Bucky deadpans, clearly not finding the situation as humorous as the boys did. You snicker with a shake of your head, assessing the spoon in your hand for a moment before setting it down in the container and abandoning it as a whole.

Instead, you pull your shirt up and over your head – stripping away the layer. The response it earns from Bucky fuels your confidence, the way he straightens up on the couch and wolf-whistles at each inch of skin you show off for him. Bucky always has a way of making you feel perfect; All your insecurities blanch when you were able to feel his comforting presence, always leaving you feeling loved and unequaled in your skin.

“Givin’ me a show, doll?” Bucky muses, a small tilt of his head while he studies you. “Why, enjoying the view?” You coo in turn, meeting Bucky with that same playful banter - this was a game after all, and games are meant to be fun. You discard the top haphazardly to the floor, no doubt to be gathered tomorrow morning.

“Oh absolutely. Got the prettiest baby in all of New York… I’m a very lucky man.” When Bucky speaks, his voice is thick and warms your face. Bucky is very much the flatterer.

“I know you like it when I say things like that,” doesn’t even hesitate to single you out on the thought. “When I remind you of how precious you are to me, sugar… Just how much I fucking adore you.” Bucky’s voice drips with lust and devotion. Utterly in love. It almost tempts you to drop the game before it gets too far in and have him now; Peel away the remaining layers separating you two and open your legs in an invitation for Bucky to fuck you so roughly into the couch that the legs break and the neighbors know Bucky’s name loud and clear.

God, you’re fucking whipped for this man.

Sometimes you’re still not prepared for the outpour of loving words; Still, you’re trying to remember that Bucky means the things he says and isn’t merely humoring you as exes have in the past. Bucky is nothing if not genuine.

“Keep sweet talking me, Sarge, and this game might end sooner than you want it to,” You warn with a coy smile before picking up the formerly abandoned spoon. “I’m bein’ honest,” Bucky defends, lifting his hands in a feigned and mischievous. “You know you love when I talk sweet to you, anyways, sugar.”

“You also know it makes me freeze up; I never know what to say things like that, Bucky.” a gentle reminder and your cheeks hurt from smiling - do you look stupid? Bucky would love you anyways, truth be told.

“Oh, but that’s the best part,” Bucky replies, leaning forward on the couch and closer into your bubble of space. Taking his time letting his eyes drink in the pretty sight you make for him without your top. “It turns you into putty, baby. You start floatin’ so easy, ‘s cute - it’s worth it gettin’ you cock-drunk in the end.”

You stutter - jaw clenching and you feel the tips of your ears burn. Bucky takes more sadistic amusement in the responses he pulls out of you. Plays you like a fiddle. It embarrasses you as much as it makes your thighs tighten and a wetness forms in your underwear. He works you up for fun. It’s maddening and exhilarating and perfect.

“Buckyyy,” you whine, pitiful and with a harmless scowl. Bucky’s laugh is rich and makes your face soften almost immediately. “Well, on with it, sunshine.” Bucky nods towards the spoon clutched between your fingers.

You take the moment to regain your composure. A deep breath - Attempting to shake out Bucky’s influence and his attempts to deduce you to a ditz so soon. Then, with the cold metal of the spoon, you smear a generous streak of whipped cream from your left clavicle to the top of your left breast.

When you lift your attention from your careful work, you find Bucky’s hungry eyes on you. Looking like a wolf preparing to strike his prey; Oh, to be littered with bites from Bucky’s mouth sounds like a dream.

“You’re bold tonight. I can already tell this is gonna be fun,” Bucky husks, voice low before moving into your space.

Right hand coming flush against your hip before smoothing up to frame your chest. He wedges himself between your legs, bringing your back flush with the arm of the couch as he looms over you; The semi that the soldier has been packing pressing prominently against your ass through his jeans. His vibranium hand brushes your hair out of your face, eyes studying you.

“You’re always so small under me...” Bucky hums, metal fingers brushing down your cheek as you lick some of the remaining whipped cream off the spoon; Putting on a show with the slow and deliberate lave it was the tip of his cock.

Bucky groans, his touch hardening where he holds your chest before lowering himself to let his hot mouth lick over your collarbone. Trailing down, his tongue glides across creamy sugar while littering open-mouth kisses to your flushed skin. His beard scratches against tender flesh and you keen underneath him - Bucky subtly presses tighter against your ass so his cock can make itself well acquainted and he growls low in his chest. Hot breath fanning over your flesh.

The soldier’s hot mouth threatens to go further, tempted to explore every inch of your delicate skin and leave you covered in hickeys. Bucky practices self-restraint, but not before licking up the swipe of whipped cream and suckling a deep hickey into your skin. The purpling skin is beautiful under his skillful tongue and you moan into the air of the living room.

May the best man win.

You’d both gone back and forth. After Bucky licked the mess from your chest and tasted the sugar on his tongue from a shared kiss, he had fun spraying whipped cream on his fingers.

Watching you have to take each digit between plump lips to suckle and lick the cream off. Beyond the sweetness of the cream, you could taste the roughness of his skin while he played with your tongue. Bucky even took the liberty of pressing his fingers to the flat of your tongue and holding your mouth open until you were drooling when there was no more cream left. When his fingers slip too far, you gag around the intrusion and Bucky grins.

He spits in your mouth to compensate for your time. You moan, thankful.

When it’s your turn again, you take the chance to shimmy your pants off next. Bucky licked his lips - watching you get undressed and not having to do a bit of the work but also being tempted with the inability to touch. Eager hands wanting nothing more to grip supple flesh and lay his claim while he takes you. With him. All good things come to those who wait.

You smeared whipped cream on your inner right thigh - dangerously close to your center and trailing towards your v-line. Bucky took his time settling between your legs. Kissed stamped to the inside of your calves, calloused hands smoothing out the outer of your thighs. Trailing upward, Bucky’s breath ever hot and the whipped cream threatens to drip.

Bucky catches the drop with his tongue before it can find the couch, licking up the inside of your thigh. His tongue makes you tingle and your brain stops working for a moment; shuddering under his touch and your toes curl. Bucky presses a kiss over the wet patch in your tight briefs and you hide your face. Your core quivers with want.

Bucky refuses to let you hide for long, working his way back up and gently prying your hands from your face. You share a heated kiss and sigh shakily against Bucky’s figure; Melting between him and the couch.

When it’s Bucky’s turn again, he takes a page out of your book and uses the opportunity to shed away layers. The jeans hugging his deliciously thick thighs are discarded, Bucky hiking up the plain black tee that left little to the imagination of the definition of his abdomen. It’s no mystery that Bucky was packed with muscle; Even in thick coats, you could still somehow always make out his distinct shape with rippling arms, a thick chest, and somehow a narrower waist. You’ve joked about him being a Disney princess once or twice.

The scoundrel smears the chilled spoon over his chiseled abs and for half a moment you’re in one of those steamy romance novels your mom would read and you’d giggle at.

You lap up the trail from over the concrete muscle down to Bucky’s groin - and he sighs out shaky and delighted. Hooded and heated eyes always watching you, you, you. Nothing else exists in the world to him other than your game. You feel a swell of pride knowing you have such a catch as Bucky; his thick fingers tangled in your hair and carding through as you innocently lick up the cream with a sinful tongue.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous, sunshine.” the words are drawled out lazily and hushed from Bucky’s swollen lips; He’s been chewing them and biting like crazy.

The tent in his briefs doesn’t surprise you at all - you’d be insulted if he wasn’t aroused.

Still, you’ve taken every task he’s given you like a champ. Bucky is running out of safe skin to present, and you’re in for the long haul. Winning or losing makes no difference to you. By the end of the night, it’ll be Bucky’s hands that have touched you and brought you to your climax. No one else. You’ve already won.

But that doesn’t stop you from sitting back and shivering when the cold metal touches your bare nipples. Smearing a generous amount of cream to both bare and pebbling buds. Bucky is simply excited to get his mouth on you in a way that isn’t so safe anymore. His lips close around your nipple and leave you gasping - sucking and rolling the bud against his skilled and velvety tongue.

You’re wet; fingers holding Bucky’s head, merely along for the ride as he circles the areola with the tip of his tongue before pinching the delicate skin between his teeth and making you cry out. So sensitive. He kisses your ache better before subjecting the other nipple to the same torment; Bucky’s hot and wet mouth is heaven and your body speaks louder than your wanton moans or words ever will. You want him so unapologetically, and Bucky knows it. Prides himself on it, even.

It’s only a matter of time before you’re out of whipped cream and both of your teeth have rotted from your skull from the sugar; Something has to give otherwise the both of you could be at this all night - would that be so awful, though?

Bucky could wait you out easily. Run you out of choices until all that's left to cover with cream are the places he wants to get his tongue on the most. That's too easy; the back and forth between you two is what helps sparks fly.

Your fun is interrupted on Bucky's turn. He's trying to swipe whipped cream on his chest when he fumbles the spoon; the dollop slides right off the flimsy metal and falls to Bucky's bare shin, trailing down to his foot.

Both of your noses scrunch. Bucky's look of disgust is quickly replaced though by a mischievous glint, the soldier raising his leg up to balance his heel on the couch cushion.

"Better hop to it, honey." Bucky singsongs.

You playfully swat at his thick thigh, hand wanting to linger just to feel the muscle under your palm. How easy it would be to glide up and cup his cock.

"I'm not licking your foot, Bucky." You stifle the words only because you can't contain the giggles.

"Rules are rules - unless that means I win…?" Bucky perks up, and ah, no wonder why he got all delighted. He sees this as his golden ticket win.

No way he's serious. Your relationship and dynamic is very experimentational, but feet aren't on the table - sorry, Bucky. Licking one of his boots is a different story, but that's for another day where you have more time and the sweet words are replaced with filthy titles and the soldier joins you in the bedroom rather than your loving and chaste boyfriend.

“I’m not licking your foot.” You reiterate, “Pick somewhere else, for real?” “Ah ah ah, Sunshine. When we started playing we agreed.” Bucky protests and you are tempted to steal that spoon away from Bucky and swat another spoonful of whip cream at him. Instead, you pout; trying to wiggle your way. “Oh c’mon.” Bucky knows you won’t do it, the pain in the ass that he is (and you adore).

“Then I win,” Bucky declares matter-of-factly, and really, has defeat ever been such a pleasure? You shrug your shoulders to acknowledge your defeat, flashing the man across from you a bashful smile. At least you don't have whipped cream sticky on your foot - you're the real winner in that case.

“That means you, sunshine, gotta get that sweet mouth of yours on my cock.”

“Yes, Bucky,” you agree with an airy giggle. “I know what going down on someone means.”

When you go down on Bucky, he’s kind enough to give you a pillow to kneel on between his thighs. It helps recompense for the iron-grip in your hair as he guides your head up and down the steady length of his cock.

You’ve long started to adapt to the girth by now. The first time you’d attempted to go down on Bucky, the thickness of his cock had overwhelmed you. You could only take so much before nearly sputtering - and vomiting during sex isn’t sexy. It left you to have to make up for what your mouth couldn’t reach with skilled hands pumping the base of his dick and playing with his balls.

Now you can take Bucky without gagging, and it’s worth it to watch his eyes roll into the back of his head when you suck his cock. You’re his pretty cock-sleeve and Bucky has no problem letting you know it:

“Yeah, that’s it… Such a slutty fuckin’ mouth, droolin’ all over me, baby.” His fingers fist your hair at the root, every pull a delicious sting as he guides your head up and down his cock. The corners of your lips stretching around the intrusion, eyes watering and everytime you moan at the way he fucks your mouth, it sends a vibration through Bucky’s cock that just has him reeling for more. “Oh, oh God… I’ve got the prettiest fuckin’ cocksucker - a work of art."

The words are filthy yet flattering; your chest fluttering while your hands brace on Bucky’s thighs. You keep your jaw slack, making the slide as easy for him as possible as the tip of his cock abuses the back of your throat. There's a certain fulfilment that comes with being used so filthily; Solely existing for Bucky's pleasure in that moment as he shifts from guiding you to thrusting.

Your nose buries in the neatly trimmed pubic hair, flush with his pubic bone every time he cants his hips up into your willing mouth. This is how all blowjobs tend to go. With you taking the lead before Bucky can't handle it anymore and pummels your poor mouth.

It leaves a delicious ache.

Drool slips down your chin, doe-eyes fixed on Bucky despite the bleary picture he makes with tears dripping down your cheeks. Your sounds are muffled yet still whorish; your skin prickled with heat and the knot in your stomach slowly building. You grind your hips into the air looking for something to hump. You whine when you find nothing; more drool pooling past your red mouth as Bucky tilts his head back into the cushions with a low moan.

"That's it, take it, take all of my cock, baby. Like you were fuckin' made for it, mm, my precious little fuckhole. God, I love you, love my messy whore."

Your head is swimming, all you can focus on is the feel of the cock thrusting in and out of your slack mouth while Bucky uses your hole to his delight. Even when your head feels light from the lack of air, you float happily and trust Bucky. Bucky always takes care of you.

He tugs your head up by your hair, pulling you off his cock, and only then are you able to swallow lungfuls of air; gasping with spit-slick lips and a gossamer connects you to the tip of Bucky’s flushed cock.

“Cock-drunk. Like I said.” Bucky playfully chides and you whimper pitifully in response. Bucky laughs condescendingly at how pathetic you are and your chest blossoms. His hand cups your face tenderly, vibranium fingers wrapped around his dick while he smears his cockhead against your cheek. You turn your head instinctively towards the cock, mouthing wet kisses up the length and Bucky barks out a laugh at how hungry you are.

“Fuck, when did you get so desperate? You’d think I never touch you.” He traces your lips with the flushed tip; your tongue darts out to lap up the pre-come.

“As if I don’t have you bent over the nearest surface every other day; Pumping you full of my seed and leaving you fuckdumb.” Bucky slaps the length against your cheek wetly. You tongue down his shaft, as much as Bucky’s clutch in your hair will allow, and mouth at his balls hungrily. Bucky groans low and primal in his throat.

“Dirty, dirty…” His hand comes to hold your jaw, tongue sliding past your loose and parting lips. Playing with your tongue, Bucky shakes your head like a dog and you mewl. Fingers curling into the flaps of his jeans from where you’d pulled them open. “Shh, you’re alright, honey. M’just playin’ is all, yeah, you’re so cute like this. So airheaded n’ dumb.”

You suckle on Bucky’s thumb, your reply coming in a pleased purr to have your mouth full again. It’s not his dick, but you’re more than happy to bob your head. Bucky bites his lips and grins wickedly.

“I love how stupid you get for me, baby. It’s absolutely adorable, knowin’ you’d let me do anythin’ I wanted to you,” Bucky coos all too lovingly for it to be merely lust and heat.

He slips his thumb from your lips and you chase the digit with a whimper; Mourning the loss. Bucky just grips your hair again and pulls you back to his balls.

“C’mon, sunshine, suck on my balls.” The weight in your mouth nearly has you salivating, sucking on Bucky’s balls and right where you’re meant to be; Worshipping this man.

His cock is heavy against your face as Bucky jerks off to the gorgeous and whorish sight you make for him. The bruent groans, stroking his cock as Bucky watches you intently mouth as his heavy sac; Saliva dripping all over his skin and making a mess. His cock jerks infront of you, pulsing and veins bulging.

“That’s it, good pet… So fuckin’ good, yeah, you’re so perfect — Fuck, what am I gonna do with you..?” Bucky guides your mouth back to his cock. Up the length and taking the head between your lips before swallowing him down entirely. Back to the steady bob as you moan around the intrusion and Bucky groans roughly into the thick and heavy air.

“I wanna fuck your face, sunshine,” Bucky rasps out, and you stutter your ministrations for half a moment to peer up at him in the helpless daze that consumes you. “Yeah, you like that idea? Don’ gotta do nothin’, honey, just let me use that pretty fuckhole of yours.” The words purred out so sweetly, you profusely nod. Eager to be of use. Pulling off his cock, you utter the word: “O-Okay…” “Good fuckin’ pet…” Bucky’s fingers thread delicately through your hair until he’s tightening the grip. Sinking you down onto his length yet again and forcing you to take every inch he gives you. It doens’t stop there. Instead the soldier braces his feet on the carpet alongside where you’re sat between his open thighs. He pistons his hips up - hitting your gag reflex and causing you to sputter around his cock.

There is no mercy. Bucky fucks up into your face, setting a progressive pace to allow you to slowly adjust but not for long. It’s only a few moments later that he’s fucking up into you like his own personal hole. Piercing steely eyes burning through you as he watches you choke and sputter on his impressive girth. It’s a mess of spit and tears that stream down your cheeks from the brutality of the face-fucking.

Heavy balls slap against your jaw and Bucky moans. You tingle between your legs, wet from being able to be a tool for Bucky. An object of pleasure; Something about it has always turned you on in being able to please your partner. There’s no better pleasure than Bucky using you like the fuckhole you’re made to be, and he lets you know that.

“God, baby, you were made for this. Should just keep you for this one day; Make you my pretty little fuckdoll and the only thing you gotta worry about is fuckin’ yourself stupid on my cock. You make such a pretty sight, fuck, I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you…” The litany is breathless as Bucky continues to thrust his dick in and out of your welcoming mouth.

You choke and sputter; Face hot and eyes burning with tears that drip off your chin in fat droplets. Cries die in your throat, high off the euphoria of the moment and burning on the adrenaline of being used as a fleshlight. Your lips ache; His pelvis smacks into you every time he ruts his hips up. Bucky slides down your throat easily. He’s right. You’re made for it.

You don’t know how long it goes on for. Instead you ogle in heaven, seeing and feeling nothing but Bucky. Even through the wet and slick squelches of your mouth being used, you couldn’t be happier. You roll your hips to find nothing - you suppose that’s the punishment of losing the game. Only one of you get off.

He fucks your face until you’re dizzy and can’t breathe. When you fear you might sputter for air is when Bucky unravels; Your throat flexing around his cock and fingers feeling every now and again in your throat for the tell-tale bulge.

It’s when Bucky’s hips stutter and the dirty talk bleeds more into primal noises rather than words. Grunts through his teeth, low growls while he abuses your throat up until the moment Bucky’s hips jerk harshly. The movements stutter, and Bucky punches out a harsh gasp. Then you feel it.

The hot pump of his come down your throat; Filling you up.

You threaten to choke and Bucky hushes you, rubbing sympathetically over your windpipe. “Shh shh, that’s it, swallow every last drop, baby. Take it all…” He rolls his hips impossibly deeper into your sore jaw. You feel drunk and you weren’t even the one that got to ride out their orgasm. With a few last grunts and rolls of his hips, Bucky withdraws from your sensitive mouth. Half-soft cock falling and you greedily swallow for air.

Bucky pets you through it all - whispering out your praise. How good you did for him. How much he loves you.

You take a moment to recover, head pillowed on Bucky’s inner thigh as he pets your hair lovingly. You drool onto the denim of his jeans, and if Bucky minds, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he watches you with loving eyes and a soft hum; As if this wasn’t the same man who just deduced you to his filthy fuckhole. If you didn't know any better, sometimes you'd think the man who fucks you and the man who bought you a book you'd been dying trying to find for Valentine's day were two separate people.

Bucky does it because he knows you love it. You could tap out any time with the special little word you both selected months ago when your sex life began to spicen up past vanilla rocking. But you don’t. No, you take it all and then some because it feels good and sometimes you’re convinced it’s what you were made to do.

You take your time recouping. Bucky rubs through your hair lovingly and affectionately, soft hums to add noise to the space. You smile, delighted, as if you’re the one who’s won and come. Calloused fingers trace the shape of your smile and you nearly preen. Slotting open your droopy eyes, you find Bufcky still there. Still sweet.

“You did so good, honey. M’so proud of you.” He praises, knowing now that he has your attention. Your grin splits and give him a toothy smile. “My sweet sunshine,” Bucky’s voice is soft and inviting, a lopsided grin on his chiseled features. You feel like the only thing in the world for a moment.

Although you want to talk, words don’t come easily and instead, you drag Bucky down into a languid kiss. Bucky groans at the taste of himself on you, but other than that, he’s chaste and gentle. Knowing when to play rough and when not to. It’s heaven when his lips move against yours so tenderly. Your heart still flutters like a teenager in love.

The both of you remain that way for a few minutes. Slow kissing even if you imagine Bucky’s back burns from the lean and your neck is starting to ache from how you crane it. Still, there’s nowhere you’d rather be than with Bucky.

“How about we head on to our room, sunshine, and I’ll take care of the rest?” Bucky purrs against your throat when he trails kisses down. The brush of his beard tickles and the feeling of his warm breath on your skin makes you happy to be alive.

“Actually,” you say after a beat, swallowing hard and clearing your throat. You pull yourself together as much as you can before leaning back and away from Bucky.

He eyes you with a mild look of concern as you prop back against the coffee table, reaching for the untouched can that Bucky had brought in with his game proposal. You pop the red cap off and it scatters to the floor below, lost. Then, pulling yourself up to sit on the edge of the coffee table, you shake the can. You lift your hips, shimmying out of the underwear you’d been left in - both of you are half naked at this point and you’ve seen one another countless times, you have nothing to hide.

The pair pools around your ankles and you use your foot to toss them, discarded like everything else that’s met the floor this evening - save for you. Bare legs spread, an open invitation and show. Bucky’s eyes light up, and you adore how he seems to treat everytime like the first time again, too.

“I was thinking about a round two,” you purr with newfound confidence and second wind; Spraying a strip of whipped cream down from your navel and disappearing between your legs. “What do you say, Barnes?”

“Oh, you’re on.”

361 notes · View notes

daisybellejpeg · 26 days

Note

Hey, Daisy!

So, could you describe Shaw's personality in detail? For example, traits he shares in common with Bright but things that the two don't have in common?

My thing about this is that I don’t believe it to be necessary to compare Elias to bright aside from what makes bright a creepy self insert fetish character and what I’ve done to make Elias not that. I’ve made the difference between the two in that regard in the past and my pinned post is pretty much advice on how to avoid what was wrong with bright.

Elias is his own guy and because I’m fueled by the spite of detractors who think rewriting my groomer’s self insert is dumb I’m digging in my heels and giving myself the ego boost that Elias can make it on his own as a character onsite. Fuck da h8rz.

That being said, personality wise? Elias is a fucking prick to any outsider. A grandiose, big ego nepo baby who got where he is on the back of daddy’s hard work and a shitter who neglects his bodies via having an awful diet and his nicotine addiction and weed dependency, all while still flaunting designer because he’s a name brand man and what better way to say “I’m more successful than you” than wearing Off-White and Supreme on the clock in different bodies and then letting surviving hosts keep the clothes if they so wish? He plays the perfect part of a pompous prick with poor impulse control and nefarious intent. Does he mind that those outside of Site-19 see him like this? Hell no. Makes the tall tales about how awful and inconsiderate he is all the more exaggerated and he lives off the free supply that is living rent free in peoples heads.

That being said, while he does very much neglect his bodies via self neglect and self destructive behaviors? He was never a nepo baby. Were Ansel and Soraya successful researchers? Of course. One was the previous director of research for Site-19 and the other was a prominent cryptologist despite having the odds stacked against her due to the discrimination of the time. Elias himself however worked hard to get so high in the pecking order, especially since Ansel in particular pretty much forced him to. Part of his self neglect stems from not just free kid syndrome but also because he’s always had to neglect himself to some extent to reach the goals his father had set for him.

He also takes care of his people, something he aspired to do upon gaining any power in foundation circles since he’d seen how much his mom in particular suffered due to those in power at the time looking the other way to the blatant racism she faced during her career within the foundation. Everyone in Site-19 is well paid, well insured, protected against any sort of discrimination, and are given generous benefits because it’s what his mother would’ve wanted. Despite being low empathy on the aspd spectrum, his mother did a good job in giving him a basic moral code and the fervor to uphold it. He is a momma’s boy after all.

To friends, while still being a self serving bastard with a macabre sense of humor, he’s very casual and hospitable, taking pride in being a good host to those within his personal circle despite at the same time playing into his vices in the form of offering up weed, caffeine, liquor, and junk food. He is very much a bad influence, but hey, at least he’s a chill bad influence. He also likes to give high value gifts if only to further flaunt his expensive tastes. Sure he can be inconsiderate due to his low empathy at times, but much like with his reputation outside of his circles, he revels in the supply he gets from being considered a solid and significantly useful acquaintance to have.

Basically, he’s a dick with standards. Will playfully bully interns while using their preferred pronouns. He is also a master prankster with a love for cats.

#scp foundation #scp #elias shaw #scp doctors #dr elias shaw #daisy.txt #dr shaw #scp fandom

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bigdealsgoddog · 1 year

Text

Lookism guys trying to impress their s/o

Notes: gender neutral reader! This is just my hcs about how some of the lookism guys would try to impress their s/o(Jake kim, Samuel seo, vasco, Daniel)

Jake kim (kim gi myung)

Probably the least likely to feel the need to impress his s/o

Like he’ll absolutely do it if he knows it’ll get a certain reaction out of you but he’s pretty confident in himself

Maybe there’s a special hole in the wall place that he found or maybe he’ll take you to one of the places on big deal to be like “yeah I know this area really well, the people love me here and it’s amazing food”

He’d probably try to hide that he’s the leader of big deal for a while unless that’s how you end up meeting him/finding out about him

He’s more likely to try to impress you with things he found rather than material items and spending money. As is big deal doesn’t have a lot of money but he’s also not the type to just throw money around like that. Plus doing that attracts all the wrong people in his eyes.

Samuel seo (seo seongeun)

This man and his inferiority complex? You know DAMN WELL he’s gonna be dropping so much money on you to impress you

Fancy dinner dates, expensive liqour, his fancy car all the way back to his fancy apartment

See I feel like he wouldn’t like a gold digger as much as he wants to impress you with money I think he’s more likely to fall for someone who doesn’t give a shit about his social standing. Or who he even is for that matter

It’s the inferiority complex kicking in, he feels like he needs to get what’s not his, someone that doesn’t want him until he proves that he is the best option for them

So he’s gonna be a little disappointed when his attempt at impressing you doesn’t actually work out

He’d end up trying to impress you by finding out about a certain food/item that’s been discontinued and absolutely hunting that thing down and getting it for you. You’d be more impressed that he remembered that random niche thing about you but it’s honestly a little touching how hard he worked to find it for you

Please praise him that’s all he really wants

Vasco (Euntae lee)

He’d have all of burn knuckles memorize a performance or something like that, panicking because “he really needs to do this for s/o, everything is on the line”

It was like your fifth date and he heard something from vin jin that if you’re not spoiling your partner and showing them every moment why you were the best option then they might as well leave and poor guy took it to heart so now all of burn knuckles is getting ready to surprise you for what you thought was going to be a coffee date with vasco

Honestly suddenly being surrounded by all of burn knuckles while you were taking a walk in the park as they tried to do what looked to be interpretive dance? You honestly weren’t sure it was a little overwhelming

Actually a lot overwhelming

Jace thankfully was able to save the day rushing in and escorting the burn knuckles while vasco panics asking you what’s wrong and if there was something wrong with the surprise

You calmed him down and let him well the thought was nice but you didn’t really know why he went through all that trouble? He ended up explaining it all and you kinda just gave him that ‘Aw you poor thing’ look

“It’s ok vasco you don’t need to impress me just to keep me around” “i don’t?” It’s like a weight lifted off his shoulders

You also didn’t want to admit that when he works out seeing his muscles impresses you enough

Daniel park(hyeong seok)

I think he’s also one of the types to not want to try to impress his s/o?

Not to say that he’s super confident or anything but he knows how differently he was treated on surface level appearance alone so I think he would’ve probably fallen for an s/o who wouldn’t be all about impressions alone?

Like somebody he doesn’t feel like he needs to impress or act a certain way with but he’ll still try, he ends up asking Jay and joy what to get you, things he could do to impress you

He’s pleasantly surprised when you’re more impressed how he remembers your drink order at the nearby cafe and when he brings you your favorite pastry from the patisserie down the street

He ends up getting you some new clothes on occasion, like if he notices a specific hoodie or shirt you’d wear a lot he’ll try to get you clothes in similar brands/styles. And so long as you like it he’d get you a size up too because he noticed how much you like how big his clothes are on you

#lookism #lookism hc #lookism fluff hc #x reader hcs #Daniel park #Jake kim #Samuel seo #vasco #lookism Daniel #lookism Jake kim #lookism Samuel seo #lookism vasco

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irondadidontfeelsogood · 4 months

Text

Middle of the Night

cw: vomit

—————

It’s 2:17 in the morning when Peter wakes up with violent urgency, stumbling to the toilet in near-complete darkness. He’s not even entirely awake when he starts to vomit, his whole body trembling and coated in sweat. The nausea is so bad that he has to brace himself against the sink beside him to avoid braining himself on the back of the toilet every time he heaves.

Eventually, his legs can’t support him anymore, and he sprawls out on the cold tile floor, panting. He starts to gain awareness as he lies there, and he begins to reflect on how much actually just fucking came out of him. His stomach roars underneath his sweaty palm, giving him a heads up that there’s somehow more where that came from.

It takes almost all of his energy to sit up and hang his head over the water where he lets the spit just fall from his mouth. He guesses it was adrenaline that made him be able to run to the bathroom, because he’d never be able to do that right now. So, he sits there, feeling his dinner coil back up from wherever it thought it was going.

When it re-fills his stomach, the nausea washes over him again, and he can feel his face go grey. With a soft whimper, he wraps his arms around his middle and prepares for another go. Right on cue, his stomach lurches, sending another wave of partially digested seafood splashing into the murky water below.

The pressure makes him feel like he has to burp, so he tries, but he ends up violently puking instead. Go figure.

He hears an awful splattering noise that indicates he failed to aim in the darkness, and the heat of embarrassment claws up from his chest to his neck and flushed cheeks.

He lets his stomach rid itself of everything it needs to, only opening his mouth in the general direction of the toilet and just letting the puke spill out. It’s not his finest moment, he’ll admit, but he doesn’t feel good enough to care right now. On the other hand, he really hopes FRIDAY doesn’t snitch on him. He doesn’t necessarily want Tony to find him in his underwear, throwing up all the expensive food he’d just bought for him not even seven hours ago.

When his stomach feels relatively okay, he wipes his mouth and flushes the toilet. He struggles to stand more than he’s willing to admit, but when he’s braced against the sink once more, he blindly reaches over to turn on the light and brave the damage from earlier.

He winces at the sudden onslaught of light, and when his eyes finally adjust, he freezes completely.

Because what the actual hell.

Not only is there some vomit on the seat and each side of the floor beside the toilet, but also all over the wall behind it and on the porcelain lid he’d frantically flipped up in his adrenaline-fueled panic.

The sight is enough to make him suddenly retch over the sink, thankfully only bringing up a few pathetic splashes of stomach acid and bile. His arms shake where he’s holding himself up, and when he glances in the mirror, he hardly recognizes himself.

He knows that if he looks over at the toilet again, he’ll start the cycle anew, so he actually gives up. He hopes Tony will forgive him for just going back to bed, because that’s what he’s doing. Needs to do, really. He’s getting lightheaded, and if he passes out, FRIDAY really will snitch.

He drags himself back to bed, shivering even under two thick blankets. With his last strand of consciousness, he turns off his alarm for school in the morning. At the very least, he’ll miss his first class cleaning his bathroom, anyway.

Not even a second later, he’s out cold. He doesn’t so much as stir until hours later when he wakes to the sound of someone’s distant voice. He groans, pressing his face against the mattress beneath him. The voice grows more insistent, echoing. He’s vaguely aware of the fact that his stomach feels like it’s rotting, but he can’t quite do anything about it yet.

Finally, the voice reaches his ears at a somewhat normal volume, and the rude reality of consciousness envelops him. The memories of last night all flood in, making him cringe and feel sort of like throwing up right where he’s lying.

“Peter,” the voice says again. Peter now knows it’s Tony. He hums, drawn out and tortured, letting Tony know he heard him. “C’mon, Pete, what are you doing? You were supposed to be up an hour ago.” He steps further into the room.

“Mm...turned off m’alarm,” he rasps, throat still raw from his lovely encounter with the toilet.

“Why? And God, kid, what died in here?” Tony suddenly asks, probably looking around for a forgotten pizza box or something similar. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“I did,” he mumbles, face still buried in his sheets.

“Huh?”

“The smell s’my bathroom,” he admits, feeling much too shitty to be mortified like he knows he’ll be later. “I wouldn’t go n’there, though, I kinda threw up all over the place.”

“What?”

“Yeah. M’about to clean it, don’ worry,” he announces, honestly feeling more like he’s just going to add to the mess.

“Like hell you are, kid. Stay put,” Tony says, disregarding Peter’s warning and swinging the cracked bathroom door open wider. He flicks on the light and lets out a string of curses under his breath.

He then closes the door abruptly, turning back to Peter, who hasn’t moved an inch. In all honesty, he feels like he might hurl if he does.

“That was—okay, wow.”

“Told you not to look.”

“Peter, that is so not the point right now,” Tony replies, walking over and perching on the edge of Peter’s bed. “Why didn’t you get FRI to tell me you were sick?”

Peter groans a bit at the mention of his condition. “Dunno.”

“It’s like you’re begging me to re-install the baby monitor protocol.”

“I really jus’ wanted to sleep. Didn’t feel good. M’sorry.”

Tony sighs, reaching out to brush the curls back from Peter’s forehead. “You don’t actually owe me an apology, kid. It just makes me worried that you were alone and that sick.”

Peter wants to reply and have an emotionally intelligent conversation, but he’s starting to get that tight feeling in the back of his throat again. Nausea stirs in the pit of his belly. He’s not sure if he has anything left to throw up, but he doesn’t want to take that chance.

“Um. Tony,” he strains. “I feel...” He can’t say the actual words or it’ll push him over the edge. Might be too late, anyway.

Tony thankfully gets the message and doesn’t waste any time. He swipes the trash can from beside Peter’s desk and has it under Peter’s chin in record time. It’s a good thing, too, because Peter was right. As soon as he moved a single muscle, his stomach took that as an open invitation.

Despite the horrendous amount of stomach contents that he’d already vacated in the middle of the night, he’s throwing up again. Only this time, it’s not so easy. Rather than being able to let the sickness run it’s course and pump him empty, he’s choking, and hiccuping, and tearing his throat up with every go.

“Jeez, kid.”

Peter wants to say I know, or maybe please just kill me, but all that comes out is more burning hot puke. He feels Tony start to rub a calloused hand between his shoulder blades, and he has to admit to himself that he wishes he had this earlier today. Maybe he does want the stupid protocol back.

Or maybe he’s just sensitive from being so sick. All he really knows is that he feels miserable, and he’s glad Tony came to check on him. There would probably be another mess to deal with if he hadn’t.

After a few more unsatisfying heaves, he stares blankly at the pool sitting in the bottom of the bin and tries to catch his breath. Tony gets up from the bed, and Peter feels a sudden, childlike urge to cry out for him. His future self will probably be grateful that he doesn’t have the energy to do so.

Tony comes back, anyway. He has a handful of toilet paper, and when he sits back down, he actually wipes the sick from Peter’s mouth. It’s parental, and Peter’s so gross, but Tony doesn’t seem to care. Peter must have a fever, because he’s about to cry over it.

The tears overflow despite his efforts to blink them away, and suddenly the bin disappears from his lap.

“You’re okay, Pete,” Tony soothes, collecting Peter’s still trembling body and holding him close to his chest. His hand curves gently up and down Peter’s spine.

“M’really sorry about th’ bathroom,” Peter murmurs, finally feeling the extent of his embarrassment.

“You don’t owe me an apology, kid. Anyone who’s sick enough to do that kind of damage gets a free pass.” Peter groans, feeling a bit sorry for himself. He can’t help it. Something about the way Mr. Stark is treating him makes him realize he should’ve gotten help.

“I think it was the sushi,” he murmurs. “Tasted a little funny.”

“Yeah, well, next time seafood tastes a little funny, maybe don’t proceed to eat twice your body weight in raw salmon.”

Peter groans. “I don’t think I’ll eat anything ever again.”

Tony breathes out a quiet laugh. They stay like that for a few minutes, listening to the birds outside Peter’s window. He’s glad he decided not to tough it out and go to school. A cramp reaffirms his thoughts.

“My stomach hurts,” he moans, pulling back to wrap his arms around his middle.

“I bet it does. You want some Pepto?”

He shakes his head. “I’d throw it up. I always do.” It’s true. Almost every time he’s ever taken Pepto, it ends up spewing back out of him almost immediately.

“Okay, maybe some Sprite? We gotta get some liquids back in you, kiddo.”

Peter thinks for a second and then nods, letting himself curl back into bed. Tony pats his knee through the blanket and stands up.

“Good. I’ll be right back.” He crosses the room, stopping at the door. “Anything else you want me to get while I’m down there?”

“Um. Maybe another trash bag? This one is making me nauseous.”

“I’m right there with ya, pal. Give me like, two minutes. Hang tight.”

Peter just hugs his stomach and groans, drowning in his misery. He wonders if it’s actually this bad or if he’s gotten dramatic, but for his ego’s sake, he’s probably dying. He can barely lift his head when Tony finally comes back.

He greets Tony with a whimper. A literal whimper. He’s going to hate himself later, but for now, he just wants Tony to wave some magic wand and give him a new stomach.

“I know, kid. Go ahead and sit up for me.”

Peter regrets ever sinking back against his pillow, because now sitting up sounds like the single most unachievable thing in the world.

“If I move, I’ll barf,” he replies, only half joking.

“Then we’ll ride it out and try the Sprite when you’re done.”

Peter groans, knowing he’s never going to win this battle. He begins to lift his head and eventually his torso, feeling the ache of his stomach muscles from overuse. The motion makes him very dizzy, probably from dehydration if he’s honest.

He holds up his hand, blocking Tony from bringing the glass to his lips.

“C’mon, don’t fight me, Pete,” Tony says, almost pleading.

Peter shakes his head barely. “One second...tryin’ not to puke.”

“Ah. Got it.”

Blessedly, Tony doesn’t push the glass on him again. He sits there swallowing convulsively for a minute before he can even open his eyes. When he does, he can’t help but look at Tony with open misery.

“I know you don’t feel good, kiddo, I’m sorry,” he says, seemingly reading Peter’s mind. They’ve gotten to that point apparently. He places a steady hand between Peter’s shoulder blades and rubs in a circle. “I really think you’ll feel better if you sip on this. Just try for me, Pete.”

Peter eyes the bubbling liquid and tries not to feel entirely disgusted. In a moment of pure bravery, he reaches for the cup and takes three whole sips. It’s cooling against his raw throat, and he’s grateful to get the taste of bile out of his mouth at least a little.

“That’s it, you’re doing good. You can take a break if you want to.”

So, he does. He sets the cup down on his nightstand and lays back down while Tony replaces the bin liner for him. His head swims a little as if he’s drunk, and he gets the sinking feeling that his Sprite victory won’t last too long.

“Mm...Tony,” he mumbles, snaking a hand under his t-shirt and trying to magically settle his stomach through touch.

“Yeah?”

“Can you turn on the TV? I really need to think about something other than my stomach for, like, two seconds.”

Tony gives him a sympathetic smile, grabbing the remote and turning on The Office. He uses his foot to scoot the trash can back to where it was and sets the remote back down. Peter starts to feel himself drifting off already.

“I’ll get out of your hair. Please actually tell FRIDAY if you need me, okay? I’m gonna check in every now and then anyway.” Peter nods, curling into himself. “Alright, I’m gonna go call Midtown, tell them you’re not feeling so hot.” Peter just nods again, blinks getting longer and longer.

The voices on the TV get jumbled and muted as he’s pulled into a state of half-consciousness fueled by fever. His dreams are far-off and confusing, often nightmarish and gory. When he wakes with a start, he wonders if it was a nightmare or a memory. Sometimes he worries that patrol has doomed him to a lifetime of night terrors.

It takes him several minutes to come to and make sense of the noises in his room. He eventually fumbles for the remote and turns off Netflix, flopping back down onto his mattress.

He’s coated in sweat, battling the swirling in his stomach yet again. He has no idea how much time has passed. It’s unsettling, and he finds himself really wanting company. His mouth is also bone try, so he grabs the Sprite with a trembling hand before speaking.

“Hey, FRI?” he rasps.

“Yes, Mr. Parker?”

“Can you, um. Get Tony?”

“Alerting Boss. Would you like me to deliver a message?”

Peter shivers at the condensation from the glass running down his forearm. “Um...just tell him I don’ feel good.” He knows he sounds like a child, but his head feels very funny and he doesn’t quite know what else to say.

He must be truly dehydrated, because once he starts drinking, the sips turn to swallows, and the swallows turn to desperate gulping, and before he knows it, the cup is empty. He winces almost instantly at the new sloshing feeling in his stomach. Maybe he fucked up.

He can’t even breathe in without heaving on the exhale, and in a fraction of a second, he’s refilled the glass. He promptly sets it down and leans over, vomiting into the trash bin.

Right on cue, Tony knocks on the door and cracks it open just a tad. When he peeks in, another wet retch is climbing up Peter’s throat.

“Ah, shit,” he mutters under his breath, crossing the room to pick up the bin so Peter doesn’t fall over with the effort of heaving. He’s grateful, because the blood rushing to his head was really starting to make his vision swirl.

Tony is silently rubbing his back, and Peter tries not to be too gross. It’s sort of a lost cause, especially when he misses a little bit and pukes on his hand that’s gripping the bin. Of course, that sets off his nausea all over again.

It takes him a long while to catch his breath. He has to close his eyes and forget where he is so he can stop gagging.

“You want some Sprite?” Tony asks, unintentionally sending Peter into his worst retching fit yet. “Okay, so that’s a hard no. I’ll let you have a minute to breathe.”

“It’s—,” Peter tries, cut off by a gurgling retch. He greedily sucks in air, heaving from deep in his belly on the exhale. “Not Sprite.”

“You wanna try some juice or something instead?”

“No, I mean—that’s-” More vomit. “I threw up the Sprite.”

“Yeah, I can see that, kid.”

Peter’s never going to be able to explain if he keeps imagining the glass. He’s panting heavily over the soiled trash. “No...I drank it all,” he strains. “That’s puke.”

Just like magic, Peter’s empty stomach finds more to shove up his throat. It trickles pathetically against the plastic.

Tony stands there, processing, and then:

“Oh. Oh, Pete.”

And then Tony’s visibly trying to figure out what to do about the full cup of vomit on the bedside table. Peter feels so embarrassed all of a sudden, and if he had the energy to escape the tower and go be by himself, he would. He knows he wouldn’t make it far.

“M’so sorry.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t have done it if you had any other choice, kid. I’m just glad it’s not on the carpet.” That makes Peter feel a little better, actually. Not enough to actually make a difference, of course, but it’s better than nothing.

“When’s it gonna stop?” he breathes out, barely keeping his composure.

Tony lets out a short sigh. “I wish I could tell you. Hopefully soon.”

Peter wilts, not feeling optimistic about that at all. Last time he caught the flu, he spent the entire weekend hurling just about anywhere he deemed moderately appropriate. He hadn’t even felt as bad then.

“I’m gonna get rid of this. Do you want me to bring anything back?”

Peter takes a moment to think and then shakes his head. There’s nothing he can imagine that would ease his misery. The only thing he can bring himself to do is pray for sleep to take him, and even that’s a battle.

“Alright. Again, call FRI if you need me for anything at all, okay?”

“‘kay.”

Tony leaves him to what’s sure to be his slow death. He turns over and begs for sleep, receiving nothing but a lingering stomach ache. He lays awake for over an hour before he finally, blissfully slips into unconsciousness.

—————

A/N: Thank you for reading as always! You rock

#iron dad #marvel sickfic #peter parker #sickfic #cw vomit #peter parker sickfic #iron dad sickfic #iron man #tony stark #sick #hurt/comfort

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