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starrclown · 1 month

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I've see ALOT of LMK angst and I have nothing better to do (cause it's late at night) and I'm not working on my LMK apocalypse au right now sooo-

LMK ANGST HEADCANNONS

Triggerwarning for Violence, Blood, Suicidal thoughts, and other general upsetting topics.

(Feel free to leave yours below. Let's make these characters sad together!)

Pigsy gets upset when people joke about Wukong being Mk's dad. It's insulting to him, the one that raises Mk since he was so little.

Wukong is someone that craves physically touch but also can't stand it. It stems from all the violence he's been apart of + the crown messed him up alot. He was SUPER uncomfortable with Mk touching him in the beginning. It has to be on his terms if you wanna touch him.

Macaque doesn't have a heart beat anymore.

Because of Macaque never coming back when Wukong needed him, Wukong had no trust that Macaque will come back if they have a argument. He assumes that Macaque is just gone and gets upset about it. Eventually Macaque comes back and realizes Wukong's upset but he doesn't bring it up cause he doesn't know how.

Redson doesn't really understand why his father doesn't seem to like him. He assumed that his dad would be overjoyed to see him again, not how he's acting now.

Mei had many breakdowns because of her grades and the pressure to be a spectacular student.

Pigsy got bullied alot in school for being a pig demon. It wasn't everyone, most people liked him, just a specific group of kids.

To add on to #7, Tang used to beat himself up over not being able to help Pigsy. He HATED seeing Pigsy getting bullied but he knew that if he tried to start a fight he would either get beat because he can't fight or get himself kicked out of school.

Mk gets nightmares of Wukong getting forced into the scroll. Sometimes he wonders what would of happened if Wukong never got out. He usually ends up crying.

The closest thing Sandy ever got to being violent is when one of his cats scared him and he accidently dropped Mo. He cried. Alot. (Mo was fine but he just hates his cats being hurt.)

Sandy still doesn't know Hunstman is dead. He just thinks that Huntsman was scared of him so he never came back. (Guess Hunstmans my favorite and he's dead and i hate it here god dammit.)

No one can say anything about Azure or Azure's death around Wukong because he will get upset. Macaque made a joke one time and Wukong lost his shit. He's still kinda shooken up about it.

Some of the baby monkies recognize Macaque as the one disguised as Wukong that ate the monkey and passed it around. Those monkies REFUSE to be around him. They get violent if they have to be around him.

Nezha wants to see Wukong, Redson, and the others more but his job is so demanding he barely gets to leave.

Wukong physically couldn't be around Tang for long periods of time when they first met. He got more comfortable with him over time but Tang reminded him to much of Tripitaka and he couldn't handle it.

Mei doesn't yell out of anger, like serious anger alot. When she finally yelled at Wukong because of the fire, all Wukong saw was Ao Lie screaming at him. (Stole that headcannon from a friend of mine. Thanks Ainnur you ruined my life.)

Mk brought up the fact that Wukong was willing to put the fire into himself and sacrifice himself, almost certainly killing himself in the process one time. Wukong kinda laughed and just said "Yeah, had to save the world bud. It's a shame Macaque messed up my plan, the world woulda been a little bit more peaceful if me AND Lady Bone Demon died." He wasn't even trying to admit suicidal feelings, he was just being honest. This scared the SHIT out of Mk because Wukong just admitted that he can and will kill himself if he feel he needs too.

Sandy often feels left out of the group and not as important but he doesn't wanna ruin everyone's fun so he stays quiet.

Bai he was ready to die when she was found by the Monkie Gang. She wasn't scared of death anymore.

Bai he was scared of Wukong when they first met face to face. Wukong apologized and explained himself. Over time she got a little more comfortable with him. She understands why he's apologizing but at that point she was so ready to die she didn't care who did it.

Redson wants to be around Sun Wukong again but he doesn't know how to start the relationship again. Same on Wukongs part but he's a bit more forward.

Macaque gets physical in fights fast. Partly cause his fights with Peng, Partly cause of his life before Wukong, Partly cause of Lady Bone Demon. If Macaque thinks a situation will get rough, he'll try to fight but if he thinks he'll lose he'll dip.

Princess Iron Fan unintentionally critiques Redsons's looks all the time. It messes with him alot so he's quite insecure.

Mei feels the need to always be upbeat and cheerful so Mk doesn't sink to far into depression. She can tell when he does this for her but she doesn't bring it up.

Pigsy's worst fear is that Mk won't come back home. The nightmares he's had of this is brutal.

I could make more but I'm sleeeeepppy. I'll make a part two one day though. Leave your own headcannons cause seeing other people break down these characters is so fun.

(How some people think Mk will be in season 5)

- ⭐️StarClown⭐️

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duckybarnes1917 · 1 year

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Forbidden Fruit (DBF! Bucky x F!Reader)

18+ ONLY.

Summary: Bucky knows he shouldn't want this, but he can't resist taking a bite.

Warnings: plot what plot? smut, age gap (undefined), unprotected sex, daddy kink, Bucky's dirty mouth. The only physical description is the reader having a small tattoo, if you don't have one, pretend it's fake.

Word count: 4900

A/N: NO ONE LOOK AT ME. I am that Paul Rudd meme. Who woulda thought?

Guilt. That’s what Bucky felt every time he looked at you. His neighbor’s daughter that he had only found out about two weeks ago. Everything had been going so well. His new house in the suburbs was shaping up nicely, thanks to Sam and Clint’s help. He had made the move to help himself find some inner peace. It was working; he slept better; he ate better, he even got a cat and started doing yoga every morning. He made friends with his neighbors. Ms. Rose was an elderly (though still technically younger than him) widow who lived across the street. She brought him muffins every Sunday morning. Mark and Angela lived to the left of him. They were newlyweds and spent most of their evenings in the backyard getting high and laughing at everything the other said. Bucky thought they were sweet. And to his right, that’s where your dad lived. A single man who appeared to be about the same age as Bucky. He did something in finance and had to take a train to the city every day. He was nice enough and since they were both alone in their big houses, they became friends. Shared beers and sports games, Bucky would come over to meet his work friends now and then. But all of this, all of Bucky’s hard work, washed down the drain the second he saw you running down his sidewalk.

He had just finished his morning yoga and was about to sit down for a nice muffin and some coffee when he heard a scream. He dashed to his front window and saw a big black dog charging down the sidewalk, it’s leash flopping along behind it. And then there was you, sweaty and bleeding, and chasing this beast like your life depended on it.

Bucky opened the door and called to the dog in German. It immediately stopped and dropped its head, slowly walking up Bucky’s driveway to sit at his feet.

“How—how did you do that?!” You huffed, your hand holding your side.

“This is Bert, he belongs to Greta a few houses down… he only understands German.”

You sent an annoyed glare toward Greta’s house. “Well, that would have been nice to know before I took him on a walk.”

Bucky chuckled, “dog sitter?”

“Not really. I’m just helping her out for a few weeks while I’m in town.”

Bucky deflated a bit. You were temporary. But even so, you were standing in his driveway with a nasty cut on your knee.

“I can fix that–if you want.”

You looked down as if you hadn’t realized you were bleeding and quickly nodded. “Please.”

“I’m James, but you can call me Bucky.”

When you introduced yourself as you walked past him into the house, your name tickled something in his brain. He wanted you.

“The bathroom is right around the corner.”

Bucky followed, keeping his distance, as not to breathe down your neck. And also to check you out. It had been a while–he had needs. That’s what he told himself as he struggled to tear his eyes away from the backs of your thighs.

You walked into the small bathroom and turned to him. The sudden hesitancy on your face made him take a step back.

“You can just show me where your first aid kit is…”

Bucky nodded and stepped into the bathroom with you; you stumbled back a bit when he knelt in front of the cabinet. “Here you go. Are you sure you don’t need a helping hand?”

Bucky remained on his knees, offering the first aid kit to you. But you didn’t take it. You stared into his impossibly blue eyes and squeaked out an intelligible answer.

“Sorry, sweetheart, didn’t quite catch that.” Bucky stood up to his full height and enjoyed the way your head tilted back to maintain eye contact with him.

“Help. Please.”

Bucky smiled and patted the counter. You understood and jumped up onto it.

“Let’s see here…” Bucky cradled your calf as he lifted your leg. He rested your foot on his thigh as he got to work on your bloodied knee.

It was just a scrape, but he took his time, enjoying the way the bend of your knee offered him a lovely view. He was so lost in looking at your legs in your short shorts he didn’t notice the way your demeanor had changed.

The look of desperation in his eyes bolstered your confidence. Yes, you had been nervous. He was hot, incredibly hot. And intense. His presence had overwhelmed you, made you so desperate for him you couldn’t think straight. But now–as you watched him unabashedly stare at the bit of white lace you knew he could see up your shorts–you knew you could take him.

As he reluctantly moved on to the scrape on your elbow, you admired his weathered face. He was talking about something, but you weren’t paying attention. You noticed the cute crinkles around his eyes when he laughed, though. The salt and pepper beard, the smoothness of his pink lips, and he smelled good too. Like sandalwood and something spicy. As your eyes moved lower, you noticed the bob of his adam’s apple as he spoke, the little freckles on his neck that you wanted to bite, and lower, the muscles under his shirt… and it was only then that you noticed his arm.

“Holy shit… you’re… you’re Bucky, Bucky?!”

Bucky straightened up, looking a little worried. “Is that a problem?”

“No! I just can’t believe I didn’t recognize you until now. Fuck, you’re even hotter in person.”

Bucky’s smirk made your cheeks blaze. You hadn’t intended for that thought to come out of your mouth. But he was moving to stand between your legs, his lips inching nearer, so you weren’t about to beat yourself up over it.

“So you’re saying you weren’t driving me crazy because you knew who I was? Just because you think I’m hot?”

“Driving you crazy?” You whispered, trying your best to remain still while his nose grazed over your cheek on its path to your ear.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what you’re doing to me, sweetheart.” His voice was gravel in your ear, a chill shooting down your spine. “Besides, I can smell you.”

“Fuck me,” you breathed out and his lips instantly attached to your pulse point.

“With pleasure, kitten.”

“That was–” you were trying to explain to him you hadn’t meant it literally, but his tongue was very distracting, as were his hands, which were sliding up your little shorts to grasp your ass. “Oh god, I don’t even know you.” Your hands tangled in his hair and you brought his lips to yours.

Just as a pathetic moan was leaving your throat, your ringtone blared through the bathroom, making you both jump.

“Sorry, sorry, just let me turn it off.” You scrambled for your phone, accidentally dropping it on the floor.

“Got it, sweetheart.” Bucky bent down to pick up your phone and froze when he saw the picture on the screen.

It was a photo of you and his friend, his neighbor… and the name on the phone said ‘dad.’

“This–he’s your–fuck.” Bucky handed you the phone and stalked out of the bathroom, nearly tripping over Bert, who had fallen asleep outside the door.

“Wait! I’m not answering it. Where are you going?!”

You scrambled after Bucky, trying to keep up with his long strides and not get distracted by the way his ass looked in his gray joggers.

“You gotta go,” Bucky said emotionlessly as he opened the front door. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what?”

“Fuck, how old are you?”

Your brows furrowed, confused at his sudden change in demeanor. “Old enough to fuck a stranger in their bathroom. What the fuck, Bucky?”

“I’m friends with your dad, okay? We can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

You stared at him dumbfounded for a moment, before shrugging and walking past him. “Your loss, Buck. Come on, Bert, let’s go. I have some energy to work off now.”

As you and Bert walked down the sidewalk toward the park, you felt Bucky’s eyes glued to you the entire way.

The guilt only lasted so long. The universe forbid you from him. Made you off limits. So fucking young. He should have never touched you. Not because it was wrong, but because now the feel of you had burned into his memory. It came to him every goddamn night when he tried to sleep. And every goddamn morning when he inevitably woke up hard from his increasingly filthy dreams.

Avoiding you proved to be impossible. As hard as Bucky tried, you were always just there. He tried to relax in his backyard and there you were, swimming lazily in your dad’s pool. When he tried to go to the park, you were laying in the sun or running laps. The day he was across the street, helping Ms. Rose in her garden, was when he realized you were fucking with him.

He was minding his own business, having a lovely conversation with his elderly neighbor, when suddenly you appeared in your dad’s driveway. A little white bikini top and cutoff denim shorts were the only thing you wore. Bucky swallowed hard. The beads of sweat running down his neck were no longer just from the scorching sun. He thought maybe you were going to lie out. But no, it was worse. So much worse. You walked to the side of the house and bent over as you turned on the water house.

“No,” Bucky whispered to himself, his eyes wide as he watched you spray the hood of your little sports car.

Ms. Rose was oblivious, talking even though Bucky was clearly not paying attention anymore. His eyes watched every move you made. He swore he was dreaming. There was no way you just squeezed your sponge over yourself, but you must have, because Bucky was watching the soapy water seep through your now sheer top, and trail down your legs. When you bent over on your tiptoes to cleanse the back window of your car, he knew he hadn’t imagined the flirty looks you had been giving him throughout the week. You still wanted him. And goddamn, he wanted you more than anything. Just as his cock was urging him to get up and go do something about the way you were displaying yourself for him, your dad pulled up in the driveway.

“Fucking shit,” Bucky muttered, spinning away from you and focusing on the garden he was supposed to be attending to.

What worried him now was the complete absence of guilt he felt. He should be ashamed. Horrified at his behavior and thoughts. But the more he tried to tell himself that you were forbidden fruit, the more he wanted to take a damn bite.

He stayed confined to his house for the next two days. Curtains shut to avoid the temptation of peeking into your backyard. Your dad–his friend, kept texting, asking him to hangout and Bucky felt horrible ignoring the messages. But he couldn’t do it, not until you were gone. He thought about going to visit Sam and Clint in the city for the next week, just until you went back to wherever you had come from. But that would be too pathetic. He just needed a distraction, something to help him stop thinking about your ass in those little shorts, the water dripping between your breasts…

Bucky’s ringtone brought him back to the present, and he yanked his hand out of his shorts, cursing himself for losing control yet again. It was your dad. He sighed, pulling his large hand down his face as he answered the phone, trying to sound as normal as possible.

“Buck! I was worried you wouldn’t answer!”

“Yeah, sorry, been busy.”

“Are you coming tonight?”

Bucky was silent, trying to remember what he could be referencing.

“The game is tonight; my daughter went out with some friends, so I invited the usual gang over. Thought you’d bring that beer we all like.”

Bucky’s heart sank a little at the news that you wouldn’t be there, but maybe that was a good thing. “Sure, sure, I’ll come over soon.”

Bucky hung up the phone and looked down at his lap… first a cold shower, then the party.

The night air was crisp, and cool as you wandered through your large backyard. You were still a little tipsy from the night out with your friends, but your vision was clear enough to spot Bucky leaning against the fence talking to some of your dad’s friends. He was a vision in his French blue t-shirt and pants; his beard was scruffy with spots of gray, his hair fluffy and just untamed enough to make you imagine your fingers in it. When he laughed, his nose scrunched, and his head tossed back just a little. Was he a god? Apollo himself, here to bring you the sun? You didn’t even realize your feet were carrying you in his direction until he caught your eye. The look of panic on his face made you stop where you were, a few feet away. He mumbled excuses and avoided your eye as he made a quick exit, heading for the gate on the side of the house.

Determined to get what you knew you both wanted, you took a deep breath for courage and chased after him, glad everyone appeared too drunk to pay attention to you.

Once in the dark shadows and hidden on the side of the house, you called his name. He froze, his hand on the gate, likely debating if he would run or answer your call.

“You’re being very rude, you know.”

He still didn’t move.

“Can I at least thank you for your help the other day?”

His shoulders tensed. “You weren’t supposed to be here.”

“Well, I am.”

Bucky turned around then, inhaling sharply as his eyes roved over you. “You don’t need to thank me.”

“Oh, but I have so many ways I could say thank you.”

He took a step closer, and you pressed your back against the brick of the house. Heat prickled over your skin as he advanced on you, nearly touching you now.

“Don’t you wanna hear your options?” You whispered, eyes flicking between his pretty lips and his even prettier eyes.

“We can’t,” Bucky swallowed.

“But I’ll be real good for you, I promise. Let you do whatever you want.”

“Christ,” Bucky muttered, inching even closer, his thigh slotting between your legs.

“Touch me,” you whispered, afraid you’d scare him away.

His fingers trailed up your thigh so lightly you barely felt them. Bucky stopped at the hem of your dress and you were about to complain when he pressed his hips against you, his prominent erection digging into your hip.

“Oh god, I wanna suck your cock so bad, daddy. Please, please let me.”

Bucky closed his eyes, just barely rutting against you. The veins in his neck were strained as he tried to remain in control.

“God dammit, we can’t. It’s wrong.”

“You keep saying that.” Your hands skimmed up his broad chest and over his shoulders. “I think it turns you on.”

Bucky shook his head, and you pulled him closer so you could whisper in his ear. “I think your cock gets hard every time you think about how you’re not supposed to fuck me.”

“You drive me fucking crazy,” Bucky breathed against your neck, his fingers digging into your thighs. “You’re all I think about. I want to ruin you, claim every piece of you with my fingers, and my tongue, god I wanna taste you so bad.”

“Please, daddy.”

His cock throbbed against you. “Stop, you gotta stop calling me that, kitten.” Bucky pushed away from you, still caging you in against the brick. “I’m serious. We can’t do this. I’m trying to be a decent guy here.”

You weren’t listening, and Bucky’s eyes trailed down your body to where your hand had slipped under your dress. Before he could say anything, you held two glistening fingers in his face, taunting.

“Just a taste.” You gently swiped your fingers over his plush bottom lip and his eyes went so dark you were almost afraid.

And then he was gone; disappearing so quickly that he was a blur in the night.

Bucky couldn’t breathe. He literally held his breath for as long as he could to avoid inhaling your sweet scent. He nearly broke his backdoor down trying to hurry and get inside.

“Fuck!” He shouted as finally got the door to open and he stumbled inside, drunk with lust.

His cock was so hard, he was already unbuttoning his pants and yanking the zipper down as he hurried through his kitchen. He just had to make it upstairs, but the temptation on his lips was too much, his clothes were suffocating, he need to fucking come. He braced himself on the wall by the stairs, his right hand quickly pulling his heavy cock out and pumping it with speed and efficiency. He was already so close; it was not a time for teasing. He got off on the smell of you on his lips, the feel of you pressed against him earlier that night, the dirty things you had promised–god he was an idiot, he could have you on your knees right now. He could hardly remember the last time he had a hot little mouth wrapped around him.

He cursed under his breath, fumbling for a tissue as his balls tightened and he swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, coming hard as the taste of you exploded in his mouth.

Bucky had reached his limit. He was done. Today was the day he was going to ruin you. He decided this as he watched you over his fence. You were lounging by your pool, completely nude, and posed to tease the fuck out of him. One leg was bent at the knee, blocking his view of your cunt. His eyes trailed up the length of your body, only to be disappointed that your book was blocking his view of your tits. But he zeroed in on the bit of side boob he could see, licking his lips as he imagined kissing the little heart tattoo he didn’t know you had there.

He cleared his throat, and you lifted your gaze to smile at him.

“Oh hello, looking for my dad?”

Bucky’s gaze darkened. “Over here. Now.”

You froze, and Bucky wondered if you really thought he could resist you forever.

“Now, kitten.”

You nodded, turning to grab your sundress before quickly making your way to his side of the fence.

“You didn’t need to bother with the dress.” Bucky grabbed the back of your neck and pulled your lips to his.

Finally.

Fucking finally.

His tongue invaded your mouth aggressively, making up for lost time. You gasped when he nipped at your bottom lip, his frustrations spilling out. He pulled back enough to look you in the eye, both of your breaths ragged.

You opened your mouth, probably to say something cocky. But Bucky silenced you by pushing softly but firmly on your shoulders. You dropped to your knees so fast that Bucky chuckled.

“Eager?”

You already had his fly open, your tongue pressed against the wet spot his cock had made in his underwear, and he shuddered.

“And you aren’t?”

“No teasing.”

You answered by pulling his pants and boxers down just enough to free his cock. It was thick and curved, his pink tip begging to be sucked.

“Holy–fuck,” Bucky dragged out the last word, reaching for the fence for support as you took him into your throat.

It had been so long since he had experienced this. While he longed for your pussy, this was different… looking down at you on your knees for him–lips wrapped tight and your tongue moving so perfectly–he wouldn’t last.

He should have taken you inside. Now he had to be quiet, had to contain the moans and gasps he wanted to let out every time you took him deeper.

“Sweetheart,” Bucky groaned as your nose pressed against his pelvis. “Wanna fuck your face, sweetheart.”

You moaned, and his dick throbbed in tune with his rapid heartbeat. But as he wrapped his vibranium hand in your hair, prepping himself to come down your throat, your backdoor opened and shut loudly.

“Shit,” Bucky cursed as your dad stepped out onto the patio and waved at him. He nudged your shoulder, and you pulled back, keeping his tip in your mouth.

Bucky gave you a warning look as your dad approached the fence.

He should have known better. As soon as he started talking to your dad, trying to get rid of him, your hot mouth slid down his cock again, slowly, but it still made him stutter. You froze once your nose was pressed against him again, and Bucky breathed a sigh of relief, until you swallowed and he nearly groaned out loud. Somehow your dad was still clueless, rambling on about-well, Bucky didn’t know what he was talking about anymore. He bit his lip hard as your tongue lapped at his balls, the tip of his cock still in your throat. A curse slipped through his lips. He was sure he looked like he was in pain–he was about to come and you wouldn’t stop–he didn’t want you to stop.

Your dad frowned. “You, okay?”

“Yeah,” Bucky choked out, annoyed now that you had completely pulled back, licking his tip teasingly. “Just playing with my kitten. She’s being a bad girl.”

Bucky smirked as you clenched your thighs together.

“But I think she just needs attention. I’ll see you later.”

With that, your dad finally left and as soon as he was safely inside your house, Bucky tucked himself back into his pants and squatted down to look you in the eye.

“What happened to being a good girl for daddy, huh?”

“Couldn’t help it.”

Bucky kissed you fiercely, before bringing you to your feet. “Inside.”

You didn’t hesitate, running to his backdoor as he slowly stalked behind you.

Bucky’s tongue held power. You were sure of it. It tortured, teased, and pleased all in one firm, wet swipe. And he did it for what seemed like hours. Not letting you go until you begged for a break. When he finally lifted his head from between your trembling thighs, you groaned at the sight. His handsome beard glistened with your arousal, and his blue eyes were dark with need. Your legs spread further for him and he smirked as he climbed over your body to reach your lips.

“Good girl; gonna take my cock, kitten?”

“Yes daddy, give it to me,” you nearly whined as you felt him press the tip against your entrance.

He was quiet as he slid in, but you could feel the tension in his shoulders. You gripped them tight as he split you open slowly, every throbbing vein rubbing you in just the right way.

“Oh god, you’re so big,” you whimpered once he was fully inside you.

His breath was ragged against your neck, and even your feet pressing into his firm ass wasn’t enough to get him to move yet.

“Please,” you begged, and finally he pulled out. Bucky fucked slow but deep, making sure you felt everything he gave you. Every drag was heaven, every thrust euphoria. His vibranium hand was cradling the back of your head, tangled in your hair, his other gripping your hip to keep you in place. You climbed quickly, but you needed more.

“Faster, please, I can take it.”

Bucky’s head dropped against yours for a second before he obliged. He moved his hand from your hair to the headboard, slowly building up the speed of his thrusts.

You could feel his control slipping, his thrusts felt more frantic, the muscles in his arms bulged, and his breaths grew even more ragged.

Yet you still needed more.

“Talk to me,” you finally whispered, almost embarrassed to ask.

Bucky froze, and you feared maybe you had ruined the moment. But then he gave you that ridiculously hot, lopsided smirk and pressed his lips to your ear.

“You want me to tell you how good you feel?”

You nodded, swallowing thickly as he resumed his pace.

“Want to hear how badly I wanna ignore your pleasure and fuck you hard and fast?”

“Yes!” You groaned, lifting your hips to urge him to move faster.

“Want me to tell you how I have to masturbate every fucking day thinking about your lips, your cunt, your ass?”

“You touch yourself, wishing your cock was up my ass?”

“Fuck yes.” Bucky sounded truly broken, and you lifted his head to see the desire in his eyes.

“Next time,” you managed to speak before his pace turned even more punishing.

“Gonna fuckin’ kill me. Tell me what else you like, sweetheart. Wanna feel you come.”

“Suck my tits, daddy, I’m so close.”

“With pleasure,” Bucky immediately moved his lips to the little tattoo on the side of your breast. Swiping his tongue over it a few times while his big hands squeezed your tits. His pace slowed slightly as he lost himself in worshiping your breasts. His tongue teased until you were nearly frantic with desire. With one last slow lick over your nipple, his warm mouth wrapped around it. Your back arched, and you came almost instantly, drawing a deep groan from him as he continued to suck hungrily.

You knew he had to be close. He was putting off his own release to draw more and more from you.

“Wanna ride you, daddy.”

He didn’t argue, flipping the two of you over so you were on top of him, your hands planted on his muscular chest.

You didn’t think he could get any better, but this angle made your eyes roll to the back of your head. Yeah, there would definitely be a next time, and a time after that. As many times as he’d allow.

His fingers gripped your hips hard, and you fluttered around him at the thought of the bruises he would leave behind.

“I’m close,” Bucky said, almost reluctantly. “Gotta stop.”

“Can’t,” you said breathlessly, moving your hips faster.

He groaned, arguing with you even as his hand moved from your hip to your breast and his hips jerked off the bed.

“Come inside me, daddy, need it.”

“Jesus fuck,” Bucky’s head dipped back. “You can’t–can’t say shit like that.”

“Why?” You questioned, leaning down to his ear. “Because you’re not supposed to be fucking me? Because you’re not supposed to want to fuck me?”

“Stop,” Bucky groaned, thrusting faster.

“Because you’re not supposed to have your fat cock balls deep in my little pussy?”

A strangled noise left Bucky’s throat, and he threw you onto your back. You were disappointed, expecting him to finish himself over your stomach, but before you could even pout his was back inside you. If you thought he was needy before, this was frantic. He hugged your body tight to his, his feet scrambled against the sheets, looking for purchase so he could fuck you deeper.

He couldn’t string together a sentence anymore, but you no longer needed him to tell you how good he felt. You could feel it with each throb of his cock deep inside you.

“Can’t stop–” he gasped, and you grabbed his ass, pushing him deeper.

A hungry, desperate sound left his mouth, and you knew you had him.

“Give it to me,” you whispered in his ear. “Fuck my little pussy, daddy, it’s yours.”

Bucky’s hand gripped your ass hard as he shoved his cock as deep as it would go. His teeth bit your neck as he came. You yelped at the pain, but tangled your hand in his hair to keep him there.

His thrusts became more frantic at first as he fucked himself through his orgasm, but eventually he slowed, the static in his brain clearing just enough to speak again. You were both keenly aware that he’s still coming, fucking you slowly as he does.

“Fuck, such a good girl, taking it so well.”

All you could was whimper, entirely spent.

“Shh, it’s okay. You did so well for me.” Bucky kissed you gently, distracting you from the loss of his cock.

“Should have done it sooner,” you mumbled, and Bucky nipped your bottom lip.

“I’ll make it up to you, sweetheart. Promise.”

You were about to give a sarcastic answer when he deliberately pressed himself against your hip and your eyes went wide.

Bucky nodded, a cocky smile on his lips.

You lifted your head, looking down to confirm with your own eyes before flopping down onto the bed. “God, you’re a fucking wet dream.”

“You’re one to talk, kitten. Now let me take care of you so you can be good and ready for that round two you promised.”

Bucky squeezed your ass before leaving the bed, leading you to the shower.

His guilt was no longer present, completely replaced by fiery lust.

#bucky barnes smut #dbf!bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky smut #bucky x reader #mcu smut #fatws #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #sebastian stan smut #dilf bucky

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sunshinesteviee · 7 months

Note

Can I request some reader and Steve on Halloween after their babies have gone to bed and the two parents enjoying their alone time on the couch watching movies and going through their kids candy

UGH my heart!! sorry it’s so late on halloween, but i hope you enjoy anyways 💛 dad!steve & mom!reader; wc 904

You’re sitting on the couch, feet kicked up in the coffee table, going through a bag of candy by the time Steve finally re-emerges from your middle child’s bedroom. You hear the shuffle of his feet against the hardwood floor that creaks in certain well-worn areas, and your head shoots up, grinning at the sight of your sleepy husband. His hair is floppy and falling into his face, a pair of glasses perched on his nose, and he’s wearing sweatpants and an old shirt that reveals a bit of tan skin when he stretches and then cards his hands through his hair. He yawns as he makes his way over to you, shaking his head as if to try to wake himself up, “Molly finally fell asleep.”

“Took long enough,” you snort. He’d been in her room for nearly half an hour.

“She just kept talking and talking, no matter how much I tried to get her to go to sleep. She didn’t say it, but I think she was scared she’d have bad dreams,” Steve shakes his head again, this time fondly as he drops onto the couch next to you.

“Our sweet girl,” you frown, leaning into your husband’s side, “Too delicate for even Halloween, huh?” Molly’s your sensitive child, always emotional and in tune with what everyone else is feeling, always takes things to heart.

“Well, to be fair, that asshole a few blocks over did scare them. I get scaring some kids, but did Winnie the Pooh, a fairy princess, and Raggedy Ann look like they wanted to be scared?” Steve’s still annoyed, you can tell, even though he’d yelled at the twenty-something jerk who had made his babies cry.

“She was just surprised, she’ll be okay,” you comfort Steve, the palm of your hand landing on his thigh as he grumbles and pouts, not unlike your kids do. “Will you be okay? Or do we need to cancel our yearly Halloween movie marathon and candy stealing?”

He perks up at that and presses a kiss to your temple, “No, no, we definitely can’t cancel that.” For as long as you’ve been with Steve, Halloween night was reserved for a scary movie marathon for the two of you, and sometimes a couple of friends. And once you had kids old enough to trick-or-treat, you’d started rummaging through their haul, taking what you wanted for yourselves. They never noticed, and they never ate all of their candy, anyway.

You squeeze Steve’s knee, cheek smushed into Steve’s shoulder as you move in closer, “Okay, good. Woulda been real upset to have to miss out on that. What should we watch first?”

Steve lets you choose first, so you’re quick to get up and put on Hocus Pocus. It’s definitely not Steve’s first pick, but it’s not a bad choice. You quickly rejoin Steve on the couch, sitting next to him closer than necessary, though he doesn’t mind at all, and you throw a blanket over your laps. He makes a big show of pretending to yawn, like boys would do in high school, stretching his arms over his head before casually resting the one closest to you over your shoulders. It makes you burst into giggles, both slightly flustered, and endeared to your husband’s ridiculous antics. The fact that he still makes you feel like this, even after all your years together, doesn’t escape you, and you snuggle into his side, pressing your cheek to his chest, “You’ve still got the moves, Harrington.”

You can feel his laugh under your cheek, his chest heaving with it as he says, “What can I say? Still gotta impress my girl.”

“It’s working,” you reply, resting your hand over his heart.

Silence falls over the two of you as the movie begins to play, until Steve’s foot nudges one of the kids’ bag of candy on the table that you’d previously been digging through. He shoots up, eyes wide as he grabs the three bags of candy, dropping them in your laps, “We almost forgot the most important part. What do you want? If you say something gross like almond joy, I’m divorcing you.”

“Steve, I literally saw you eat a handful of candy corn earlier. A literal handful.”

“Candy corn is a must on Halloween!” Steve gasps a bit too loudly, indignant, and totally forgetting that you have three kids who just went to sleep.

You quickly slap a hand over his mouth, covering your own laughter, “Shh! Don’t wake the kids!”

Eyes wide, Steve realizes what he’s done, and you both wait with bated breath, desperately hoping you don’t hear any tiny feet in the hallway. When a minute passes without any doors creaking open, you turn your attention back to your husband, who is in the middle of licking the palm of your hand to get it off of his mouth.

You nearly shriek but manage to hold it in, working your hand against Steve’s sweatshirt, “Ugh. Disgusting.”

“You love me,” he says, so confidently, so assuredly, you couldn’t deny it even if you wanted to (and you definitely don’t want to).

“Yeah, I do, Stevie. You can make it up to me with a kiss and a peanut butter cup, though.”

Steve picks out a pumpkin shaped peanut butter cup and presents it to you, his free hand cupping your jaw for a soft peck on the lips, “That I can do.”

#steve harrington #dad!steve harrington #dad!steve #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington imagine #sunshinesteviee writes #sunshinesteviee #anon #em answers

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paintyoureyeswithavividmind · 9 months

Text

close to home | chapter sixty three

plot: the reader and Daryl reconnect in a treehouse

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 3,499 Warnings: violence, blood, typical twd, alcohol use, tipsy sex (the best kind tbh) no plot just smut so ya'll are welcome A/N: thank you for reading!!

By nightfall, a fire was going, Daryl returned from a quick and successful hunt, and you unpacked all your supplies. He’d grabbed mattress pads and blankets, pillows, food, water, candles, and a bottle of wine. Jerry must’ve snuck in one of his cobblers because a small one was sitting in one of the bags. There were also tarps that you didn’t know what for--until Daryl got back and nailed them to cover the windows.

It was dark in the treehouse except for the fire and a few candles. You had already eaten what Daryl brought back--rabbit--and were eating the cobbler straight out of the container with the open bottle of wine.

“I gotta have Jerry tell me how he makes these.” You mumbled through your food. “I could eat one every day of my life.

Daryl smiled at you but didn’t say anything. He’d been quiet since he came back from hunting--which was only about thirty minutes anyway. He was happy, you could tell, and you knew he was at peace, which is why he was quiet.

You grabbed the wine bottle by its neck and took a few sips. “Where did you get this?”

“Stole it from Ezekiel.”

You chuckled and took another sip, feeling it bubble in your chest. “He’s gonna kill you.”

He grabbed the bottle from you and drank from it. “He ain’ ever gonna know.”

You smiled at Daryl and lifted the fork up to his mouth. He rolled his eyes but ate off it anyway.

“Tell me about you from before,” Daryl said, turning around to lay back with his head in your lap.

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

You smiled and sat your hand on his upper chest as you thought about his request. You weren’t even sure where to begin, honestly. You decided to first start with your family: your two sisters and mother and father. You told him about growing up on a farm, all the crap that came with it, and all the trouble you got up to.

You told him funny stories about you in high school and the friends you had. About all the silly fights you got into with your sisters and even your cousins. About when you ran away from home, but your mom caught you right before you skipped town.

“College was nice. I made a lot of friends and had so much fun,” You said, putting the wine bottle down. You were definitely buzzed, and you knew Daryl was too from how he laughed freely along with you.

You reached down and unbuttoned his shirt's first couple of buttons to gently run your fingers against his chest. “When I got accepted into medical school, me and my sisters got so drunk at the bar that the sheriff had to give us a ride home.”

“I woulda loved ya back then if we ever met,” Daryl said, looking up at you.

“You wouldn’t have even looked twice. I was a farm-raised nobody.”

He shook his head. “I woulda loved ya. Woulda saw you on the street and been a goner.”

You smiled and leaned down to kiss his forehead. “You’re crazy, that’s what you are.” You rubbed your hand against his upper chest; his skin was smooth other than old scars. With your other hand you grabbed the bottle and took a long sip. It was almost done.

“Tell me about you from before.”

“Ya don’ wanna know about that. Probably would walk right on outta here.”

“I wouldn’t,” You cupped his cheeks and stared down at him. “It’s too cold outside for me to leave. I’d have to at least stay here until the sun was up.”

Daryl swatted your hands away and then begrudgingly told you about him. You already knew more than just the basics, such as how his mother and father died--and you knew how Merle died already. So he told you about his years in high school and how he was always either ditching or suspended for ditching. Which didn’t surprise you.

He’d had a few friends that Merle didn’t fuck up for him, but after they graduated, they went off to college, and he stayed home.

“I was a piece shit, honestly, didn’ do nothin’ good for myself.” Daryl told you.

“That’s not true,” You said, although you partially agreed with him. Not about the piece of shit part, but the old Daryl didn’t seem to make the best decisions and resembled nothing of the man you’d married. “Besides, you’re one of the strongest, bravest, smartest, and sexiest men I know.”

“One of ‘em? Who are the others?”

You laughed at his joke. “You know what I mean, old man.”

“It’s been a while since ya called me that. Didn’ realize till now just how much I missed it.” Daryl sat up and spun around. He grabbed you by the legs and pulled you closer, and you set your legs on his upper thighs, and his were outstretched behind you.

You set your hands on either of his cheeks as your head swooned a little bit. You and him were definitely wine tipsy; enough to take the edges and awkwardness off. But you felt safe up in the treehouse, and you felt protected. You played with the scruff on his chin as he stared at you.

“Do ya believe me?”

You nodded and pressed your forehead against his lips, getting a few soft kisses. You set your hands on his chest and unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way so you could see his skin. You kissed his collarbone and wrapped your arms around his lower waist. His muscles were taunted under your fingertips, and you could feel him tensing each time you kissed him.

Daryl mumbled your name, and his body relaxed against your touch. You scooted closer and moved your lips up his neck. You pushed his shirt off and ran your hands down his biceps; he was so muscular, so strong, even when relaxed. You couldn’t stop yourself from running your fingernails along the lengths of his arm, which left goosebumps in their wake.

You moved your hand down his abdomen and to his jeans, fumbling with the button and zipper for a second while running your tongue up the length of his neck.

“Jesus Christ,” Daryl grunted.

You smiled against his skin before pushing your hand between his jeans and briefs and palming his growing erection. You sucked gently on one of the spots on his neck you knew he loved, and you felt him grow even harder.

One of Daryl’s hands reached up to pull out your braid, and your hair fell over your shoulders, tickling his skin, and he fisted his hand through your hair at the base of your head. You moaned as you sucked on his skin, dipping your hand into his briefs and running it along his velvety smooth skin.

“You’re so hard, honey, is everything okay?” You whispered in his ear.

His chest was moving up and down rapidly as he nodded. You squeezed him before wiping your thumb across his leaking precum tip.

“So fuckin’ sexy.”

“Tell me what you want, old man.” You leaned back to look at his beautiful eyes. “Tell me how you want me.”

“On your knees.”

Not even a minute later, you were naked with your legs spread out, ass in the air, and Daryl was thrusting into you hard from behind. The position had him reaching parts inside of you you didn’t think were possible, and you struggled not to cry from how good it felt.

Daryl’s hands held your hips tight as he slammed into you repeatedly.

Then one of those hands wrapped around your hair, and he pulled you upwards. The pain from it was nothing compared to how good it felt being dominated like that, and you moaned loudly and closed your eyes. One hand wrapped around your middle, with a hand palming your breast, while the other gripped your hip.

“Ya like that?” His breath was hot in your ear, sending chills down your body. “Ya gotta use ya words, pretty girl.”

“Yes, yes,” You were desperate. His hoarse voice in your ear and his grunts and moans were too much for you. “Daryl, I’m going to-.” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before you were coming. You clenched around him as you moaned and pleaded his name louder than ever.

“Such a good girl,” Daryl said. His thrusts were like torture through your orgasm, and you could hear how wet you were.

“Daryl,” You moaned. You couldn’t believe this side of him; it had to have been the alcohol. He was never this talkative.

“Ya want more, baby girl? Tell me what ya want.”

You couldn’t even think straight, and then when you felt his lips clamp down around your neck, your eyes rolled back, and you were speechless. But you thanked God Daryl wasn’t.

“Ya so fuckin’ wet for me.”

“I missed this little pussy so bad, gorgeous.”

“Fuck, (Y/N)...”

“Suck on these for me, will ya, darlin’?”

Without even hesitating, you opened your mouth and sucked harshly on his fingers before they were ripped away from you, and within seconds you felt them rub against your clit in time with his thrusts.

“Daryl…” You nearly yelled and leaned your head back against your shoulder.

“Ya know how good ya taste, baby girl?” He asked before bringing his fingers up to his mouth. You turned to watch him; his cheeks hollowed as he sucked you off his fingers. Then he returned them to your clit for a few seconds before showing them in your mouth.

You moaned against his fingers, licking and sucking until he was satisfied. His fingers were only on you for a few seconds before you nearly started yelling when you came again.

“That’s right, baby girl,” He grunted, thrusting through your orgasm. “Tell me how much you like it?”

“Oh God, Daryl, so much.” You moaned loudly. “I need more of you.”

Your back hit the mattress pad, and he was slamming into you before you could blink. Your legs were jelly, and you couldn’t bring them up to wrap around his waist, so they went slack as he fucked you hard. You couldn’t fathom how much stamina he had tonight, nor all his dirty talk.

“Daryl…” You whined as he repeatedly hit the same spot again and again, winding you up all over again.

“I know, baby girl, I know.” His voice was so deep and hoarse in your ear, and you ran your fingernails along his back, making him groan. “‘M gonna fuckin’ cum inside of ya, fill ya up so good. Make ya mine.”

“I already am,” You whimpered at a particularly hard thrust, and you could feel yourself starting to get sore. Tears leaked from your eyes at how good it felt, and he paused for a second and looked at you, wiping them away.

“Feel good?” He asked you under his breath.

You nodded. “Keep going, hard.”

Daryl fucked you like he did the night that he asked you to marry him; hard, with his hands, mouth, tongue, and teeth everywhere he could touch. You were sure you left scratches bleeding down his back as you came one more time before he did, filling you so much so you could feel it leaking out before he even finished.

You winced when he pulled out of you before letting your sweaty body relax into the mattress bad.

“Fuck,” Daryl muttered. “Darlin’, ya bleedin’.”

“Hmm?”

“I made ya bleed, I- I am so sorry.”

You sat up partially and saw little blood on him. “It’s okay. It’s been a really long time since I had it like that. I’m just sore, it doesn’t hurt.”

“Are ya sure?”

You nodded, “Just get something to clean me off.”

He chuckled, gave you a yes, ma’am, and was gone for a second before he was back, taking care of you like he always did. Then he brought you into his arms, and you sighed with content against his chest.

“We should drink like that more often. You were…”

“Don’ remind me.”

You smiled and looked up at him. “I loved it. Why haven’t you said anything like that before?”

“Just kept it up in my head, I guess.”

You snuggled closer to him under the warm blanket. “Well, I except to be called baby girl much more often, old man.”

“Ain’ an old man.”

***

The following day, you woke up to an erection digging into your back so hard you were sure it left it bruise, and you woke Daryl to give his body what it clearly wanted. The two of you made slow, tender love to each other for nearly an hour before your stomach grumbled too hard, and Daryl went to fetch you something to eat from the supplies you brought.

After eating, you got dressed and went outside. The sun was shining again, and about a foot of beautiful, crystal snow had partially frozen over. Your boots crunched over it as you and Daryl worked to clear the platform and the parts of the roof you could reach.

“I wanna walk around. I need to stretch my legs.” You told him as you grabbed your weapons. Your machete went to its usual home, but you left the bow behind.

Daryl followed you down the rope ladder, and you both took a few seconds to look around the area before walking. Flurries were floating around from the branches above you and the wind, so when you looked at Daryl, his hair was coated in them. You knew yours must match.

“You wanna know what I love most about you, Dixon.” You asked him.

“What, Dixon?”

You smiled, your heart fluttering. “That you’re not what I expected you to be. When we first met.”

“What did you expect?”

You shrugged. “Some macho, manly man who didn’t have a care about anything in the world.”

“Ya sayin’ I ain’ manly?”

Laughing loudly, you looped your arm around his. “I’m not saying you aren’t. I’m just saying that you’re the sweetest guy I’ve ever known. Both before and after. And I just really admire you for it.” Daryl blushed and shook his head, and you stood on your toes to kiss his red cheek. “Just as I said, sweet.”

Daryl grunted in response and said he was going to check the snares. You watched as he walked away, admiring him in his shawl and how he carried his crossbow. He was a perfect figure against snow blankets, and you bit your lip as you watched him.

There was still lingering anxiety as you looked at him. You believed that he wouldn’t let what happened happen again. But you weren’t quite sure about it. He didn’t know the future. You didn’t. And it killed you to think that it could happen again. You weren’t sure if you could survive it. You barely survived it the first time--if you had, you wouldn’t have fallen into him again so quickly. You would’ve been able to let him walk out of your room at the kingdom and be content with never seeing him again.

You sighed to yourself and crossed your arms. It was freezing but the fresh air felt nice against your rosy cheeks. And the surrounding area was so peacefully quiet that you wanted to bask in it.

Something hit the back of your head, and you felt snow fall into the back of your jacket. You scoffed and turned again. “Did you really just throw a snowball at me, Dixon?”

He had another one in his hand, about five yards from you. He tossed it into the air and caught it. “I did.”

“What are you, ten years old?” You asked but bent down to pick up snow in your own hand. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him about to throw another one at you, and you quickly jumped behind a tree.

“Can’ hide from me, foreve’,”

You smiled widely and leaned against the tree. You could hear the crunch of his footsteps, and when he was close enough, you ducked around the tree and jumped on his back. You shoved the snow into his face and laughed loudly.

“I let ya do that,” Daryl said as he wiped snow off his nose.

Your boots hit the ground, and then Daryl grabbed you, pinning you against the tree before you even realized it. “You did not. You must be losing your touch in your golden years,” You said.

“That ain’ what ya said last night.” Daryl dipped his head and whispered in your ear. “Think ya was tellin’ me how much ya need me.” His voice was deep, and you felt your stomach flip.

You looked up at him as flashbacks of the night before and then this morning when he was buried deep inside you. You felt heat run straight through you, grabbed him by his shawl, and brought his lips to yours. You could still hear those words ringing in your head.

Daryl pushed you against the tree with his body, and you reached down to palm him over his jeans. His lips moved quickly over yours, and his hands couldn’t find a spot to settle.

“Gotta get ya back to the treehouse, huh?” He mumbled against your lips.

You shook your head and unzipped his jeans. “Here.”

“It’s freezin’ out,”

“I don’t fucking care,” You said, kissing him again.

Daryl groaned against your lips before stepping away and taking off his shawl. You were instantly touching him again, trying to reconnect your lips when he had you lie down on the shawl, and he worked at taking off your sweats. You could feel the cold from the snow as soon as your pants were off, but you ignored it.

Your cold fingers worked at lowering his pants enough to get his cock out, and you had only just started moving your hand up and down when he swatted your hand away to spread your legs for him. You bit your lip at seeing him lining up to fuck you.

His fingers were as cold as ice when he rubbed them against your clit and teased your opening. Your eyes screwed shut, and you moaned softly. “Don’t tease me.”

He didn’t say anything as he thrust hard into you, which had you nearly yelling in arousal. Your fingers locked around his neck as he fucked you. You could feel snow everywhere, and your legs tingled with cold, but it was exhilarating. Having him fuck you outside like this.

“Fuck, ya so wet, baby girl,” Daryl grunted in your ear. “All for me.”

***

You and Daryl arrived at Alexandria four days later, hand in hand. Eugene was manning the gate, and he was happy to see the two of you. There were a few other people on watch. Some of them Daryl hadn’t met you, so you introduced them. The streets were slushy, and you kept slipping next to him as you walked toward your house.

"(Y/N)!”

You smiled as soon as you heard Judith yelling for you, and when you saw her running as fast as she could, you dropped Daryl’s hand to meet her halfway. You scooped her up and spun her around before putting her back on the ground and cupping her cheeks. “I missed you so much, Jude.” You said.

“You missed the first snow,” She whined. “We didn’t get to have our annual snowball fight. And you were gone longer than you said you’d be.”

“I know, sweetie. I’m sorry. I came as soon as Adam cleared me.”

“Can I see your scar?” She asked with excitement.

You laughed and nodded. “Later. Look who’s with me.”

Judith looked around you and smiled wide when she saw her uncle. “Daryl!”

You smiled as she threw herself into his arms, and then the door opened, and Michonne walked out in her pajamas. She was thrown off when she saw you but quickly came over to hug you. “I wasn’t expecting you back so soon. I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I wanted to surprise the kids.” You said, adjusting the bow on your shoulder. You lowered your voice and looked at your best friend, who kept glancing back at Daryl. “We want to work things out. I want to work things out. I love him.”

She slowly smiled and nodded. “I’m happy to see it. Is he moving back in?”

“Yeah, but we can move into one of the emptier houses.”

“No, I want you with me,” Michonne told you. “And it would break Judith and RJ's heart if you did.”

#daryl x reader #daryl dixion x reader #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl twd #twd #daryl x you

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wingedjellyfishflight · 5 months

Text

Hogtied: Part 4

You're surprised the next day to see all of the men sitting at breakfast as though nothing is wrong. You sit with them, trying not to make it obvious that you are checking their injuries, only to look directly in Ghost's eyes when you try to casually glance over.

"We're fine, Luv. Be off for a while for recovery, but we are fine." You huff at him. "You know I worry about all of you. Especially with not being able to do the work myself. Bit of a control freak, I suppose."

Soap grins, "never woulda guessed you liked being in charge, hen. Coulda fooled me." You roll your eyes and turn back to your plate, happy they are in good spirits.

You ask them their plans for the day, but they don't have any beyond relaxing in front of the telly. With a nod, you agree with that. "Lunch is on me, then. Already owe the Captain butter chicken, anyway. I will set up an order, just call in what you want and they'll deliver it." Every set of eyes near you is suddenly laser focused. "Umm... I ate his butter chicken, and he caught me with it."

"Lordy, ye dinnae?!" At your nod, the men around you all start talking at once.

"I told him I would replace it, and he let me eat. But good god, you lot need to clean out that fridge more often. I went through so many gross leftovers trying to find something edible." Ghost smirks.

"Who's leftovers were you going to try first?" Your eye twitches as you contemplate if you should lie or start running, and you see his eye zero in on it.

"Nae, ye dinnae! Ye dinnae!"

"Shut up, Soap! It was yours, Ghost. I figured you ordered the best food, so I checked yours first!" With that, you stand up and run from the hall, Ghost leaping up to chase after you. You duck into a closing door just to the right of the dining hall and sprint to the other end, barely making it around the corner before he is onto you. He wraps his arms around your waist and throws you over his shoulder. "The food was bad! I binned it! I didn't even eat your food!"

"You tried to take it, that's guilty enough for me." He carries you to the rec room with the rest of the men are waiting and tosses you gently on a couch. "As punishment for raiding our fridge, you have to sit and watch movies with us."

"Can I at least go get my book?" You knew the answer, and he knew you knew, so he ignored you. "Fine, but I deserve the option to nap if you pick something shite."

"What do you mean by that? We don't pick shite."

"Time Traveler's Wife. We all cried over it, and if I find out who picked it... never getting numbing before stitches again!" Laughter spread around the room at your rant.

"Then what is your favorite one," asked Soap.

"Something with explosions, maybe some angst, oh a holiday movie! Die Hard. Die Hard is good." The whole room groaned. That was always your go-to answer.

"Doc, I know that ain't your favorite. C'mon, I know you hate personal questions, but ya gotta at least tell us your favorite movie on movie day." You shift uncomfortably on the couch and shrink into your, no König's hoodie a bit.

"I... umm... I like Gladiator. It's one of the only ones that I re-watch." The men are quiet at your answer, and Ghost squeezes your shoulder gently.

"Gladiator up first then." You rest your hand on his briefly with a small smile. Ghost and Soap flop down on either side of you, squeezing you between them. The movie starts, and you sit forward on the couch, nervous. Ghost leans forward and tugs you back, pulling you to lean against his side. "You can nap if you want to, but relax. You've been anxious since before we left."

"I could tell this mission was going to be a doozy. I hate being right." You watch the entire movie, relaxing against him with his hand rubbing your back gently.

When it ends, you sit up and stretch, glancing over and seeing Soap sleeping with his head tipped oddly. You stand carefully and readjust him, so he is sitting more comfortably. When you get back from peeing and grabbing a drink, you see that he has taken over most of the couch, leaving no room next to Ghost, who also looks like he is about to nod off.

When you edge back toward the door, Ghost wags his finger at you, so you look for an open seat. Your eyes alight on König, sprawled across a smaller couch by himself.

"Budge up a bit. Soap kicked me out of the cuddle pile." He chuckles and moves his leg to let you sit down.

"We make our own cuddle pile then." He lifts his arm so you can lay against his chest. The next movie is one you haven't seen yet. You only make it about halfway through before falling asleep. The smell of Indian food wakes you up. When you go to sit up, König's arm tightens around you, holding you against him as he sleeps. You debate pushing free, but opt to relax against him, falling back asleep. When you wake next, your body is sore from the shit couch, but you feel cocooned in warmth. Rubbing your face deeper into the warm has it moving away as König gently sits you up. As soon as he lets go, you press against him again.

"So warm... safe..." You feel his body melt against yours.

"Sorry, König. Should've warned ya that she is a level ten clingy cuddler when she falls asleep. Can't pry her off until she's actually awake."

"My back hurts," he says in response. That's all you need to wake up. You sit up, concerned.

"Has it been hurting all day or just since I came over? Can you wiggle your toes? Is there any numbness?" He just stares at your full 180 attitude while Ghost groans.

"The only thing that can get her to stop cuddling: Doctor Mode. Never mention a health issue if you want cuddles, bruv. She can't switch it off hardly at all."

"Do you have-?" König rearranges himself to lay on his back and tug you into his chest.

"Relax, Schatz. I am fine. We will watch more movies together." You relax against him again.

It only lasts a few minutes before you hear thrashing and yelling. You scramble up and see Soap fighting in his sleep. Everyone is standing well back, but Ghost looks torn. You push through the crowd and dodge Ghost's arms to carefully climb in Soap's lap, wrapping your arms around his torso to act as a stabilizer. You try to dodge his wild thrashing, feeling his fist clip your face as you move close to him. You tuck your face into the crook of his neck to keep him from hitting you again and begin singing quietly to him.

"Can ye no hush your weepin'

All the wee lambs are sleepin'

Birdies are nestlin' nestlin' together

Dream Angus is hirplin' oer the heather

Dreams to sell, fine dreams to sell

Angus is here wi' dreams to sell

Hush ye my baby and sleep without fear

Dream Angus has brought you a dream my dear.

List' to the curlew cryin'

Faintly the echos dyin'

Even the birdies and the beasties are sleepin'

But my bonny bairn is weepin' weepin'"

Slowly, Soap calms, and you are able to relax your hold. He cries silently into your shoulder as you sing the lullaby through a second time. You pull back and rest a hand on his cheek. "Are ye alright noo, laddie?" He nods, laying his hand over yours. "Good, because I need to make sure you didn't tear anything up."

He growls and doesn't let loose your hand, staring at your face. "First ye'll tell me where ye git yon blue keeker."

"Ghost skelped me. Said I was too mouthy during the film." You pull your hand back with a grin and scoot back in his lap to tug up his shirt, checking that he hasn't popped any stitches.

"Dinnae be telling me havers."

"Ah wud never tell ye havers. Ahm a saint of a Catholic." Laughter bursts around the room, many knowing you were not Catholic at all and having heard many lies come from you to protect them or convince them to do something they hate.

"Ye dinnae have it when scran was here. Ye were sleepin on yon big yin." You shrug and glance over at the food.

"Well, ye look bonnie." You stand with Ghost's help, the grumble of your tummy making him chuckle.

"Go eat, luv. We got him from here."

"Ghost, did you hit the wee doctor? I ken ye dinnae, but-"

"English, Bubbles. And if she said I did, then I must have. The doctor is a saint of a Catholic, after all." Soap sputters, unable to form any words.

Walking over to the table, you spot your food, König's and... the Captain's. He didn't come get it. You huff and carry it to his office, knocking firmly.

"Enter," Captain Price's voice floats through the door. Opening it, you see he is in a meeting with another man.

"Sir, you didn't grab your lunch, so I figured I would deliver it." He nods his thanks and gestures for you to bring it to him.

"Since when are delivery drivers allowed to bring food directly to you? And when did they start dressing so terribly?" You glance down at the hoodie draped over you and open your mouth to respond. Captain's voice cuts you off.

"Sir, this is the doctor I was speaking about. It is merely her day off." He somehow balances censure of the other man with respect in a way that has you in awe of his skill.

"Hmph. In my day, women were expected to dress up for the men around them, on duty or off." You bristle, and Captain tries to intervene again.

"We do not police what the men wear on their days off. We certainly won't with the women we work alongside. Now-"

"I'm just saying female doctors need to have a little self-respect and demand enough respect to be obeyed by the men." Price could not be fast enough to silence your barked laughter.

"Sir, with all due respect, the men don't care at all what I am wearing as long as I am fixing their injuries. This hoodie you are so dismissive of is but a sign of the respect of the men. I wonder, how would you convince a heavily muscled, 16 stone man to submit to having the mask removed that he considers part and parcel to who he is? One that less than a dozen living men have seen under since he first donned it."

He snorts and says, "Enough orderlies will force any man to submit to anything."

"And thusly you have destroyed any and all trust that man has in you or the medical profession. I have convinced that man, peacefully, to remove his mask. Built up trust over time to convince him and many others to give a full and unabridged medical history by allowing them the right to privacy. Hell, I have convinced a prisoner that came here hogtied due to how dangerous he was to not only allow me to treat him without needing restraints but to allow the removal of his mask. That man has become one of our greatest assets, in part, due to the respect afforded to him, which started in the medical bay. So, to hear you say that brute force and dressing pretty are the only two ways to gain respect around here is not just inappropriate but sets a dangerous precedent for the men we serve. Such a precedent, I will not allow to take root in my clinic." Silence fills the room after you finish speaking. The man turns to Price.

"I'm convinced. Promotion approved." He signs a piece of paper on the desk. Captain grins at your stunned and confused face.

"Agreed. That was quite a moving statement, Major. Soon to be Lieutenant Colonel, I suppose." Your eyes narrow in suspicion as you look back and forth between them.

"Sir, am I to be expected to leave and work in a different facility, then? If so, I do not want this promotion."

"You'll have to go where assigned, doc. That's above my paygrade to influence."

"Yes, and your opinion on a promotion doesn't matter. If you are promoted, you will work where assigned until the end of your contract."

"I won't leave my men. It would take many steps back. It was jokingly mentioned not long ago, and they nearly mutinied."

"They will get over it." The man seems smug, and it is ticking you off something fierce.

"That's fine then, Captain. I am sure my parents will be thrilled to hear that I no longer wish to work for the military."

He winces, "Now, doll. There's no reason to go involving your parents. I'm sure we can work something out."

"Parents? The military does not care bout the opinions of parents." He scoffs at your threat.

"They do when they have money and political favors. Captain, I will do everything in my power to stay, including sabotaging a promotion. If you force my hand, I will find a way out rather than have to start over somewhere else. Please, do not push me on this, I love working here."

You are begging at this point. Leaving your men would be devastating. You've tried to stay under the radar ever since finding out that promotions mean leaving, even to the point of refusing to record the advanced training and techniques you have taken and the ones you have pioneered.

"I understand, Major. We will discuss this further later." You know a dismissal when you hear it.

"Yes, sir."

The next thing you know, you are back in the rec room, sitting in front of your food. Ghost appears at your side and nudges you gently.

"What happened, Luv?"

"I got promoted, I think. Maybe."

"Woo-"

"Shut up. It isn't a good thing."

"Why not? You are moving from Major to Lieutenant Corporal! That is great! They've been ignoring you for too long." He starts to stand, and you drag him back down.

"If I get promoted, I have to leave. I-i won't be here anymore. That's why I've been hiding from it."

"Oh," he says as he settles back in. "You've been avoiding more money and shit to stay with us? But why?" You nod and shove a piece of food in your mouth, trying to get a bit of time to think.

"I just... I really love working with you guys. It's exactly the job I wanted since I had to be a doctor. Working with adrenaline junkies who save the world, ya know?" You sigh and lean against his shoulder. "I really like the relationships I've built here. You guys are respectful and kind. Female officers don't usually much respect."

He rubs your arm gently. "Heard and understood, luv. We will figure this out together, then. Eat up, and we can watch another movie before dinner."

You wake up later sandwiched between Ghost and Soap on the couch, each wrapped around you somehow. Your last thought before falling asleep again is the way this feels like home.

The next week, Captain Price sets a meeting with you. When you tell Ghost, he immediately wants to go with you. Despite turning him down every time and refusing to tell him when, he catches the closing door and silently stands behind your chair. The Captain stares at him for a long moment before opting to ignore him completely.

"I've arranged this meeting to discuss your upcoming promotion and what it means for you and the men."

"I understand, sir. I can have the files updated and ready for transfer in about two weeks. I will need to meet one on one with each man to ensure the transferred files meet with his approval based on the policy in effect." Captain Price looks surprised.

"You don't intend to pass on the full histories to a replacement?"

"No, I am afraid they will be accidentally dropped into a paper shredder, and there will be an incident with a small bin fire just off base. Quite unfortunate, but not preventable." You keep your gaze passive and meet the Captain's own look evenly. "I will ensure that the approved files do not meet with such an end. I will also endeavor to provide a full list of the procedures and techniques that we have pioneered under my command so that there is consistency for the men. They do so hate change."

"I hope the former will not be necessary, and I implore you to implement the latter. As an aside, in speaking further with the RAMC, we have come to an agreement for you to stay here at this post indefinitely. It was deemed necessary to current and future missions to maintain consistency in medical care. I was asked to pass on a message: All doctors are required to record their advanced training and education, and thus, it is expected that you will update your records accordingly. I believe that covers everything." His grave face suddenly breaks into a smirk, just as you begin crying with joy.

"Thank you, Captain! Thank you!" He stands and moves around his desk to wrap you in a hug.

"You did good, doll. I am so proud of the work you have done, and now it will be recognized by everyone else." He smiles down at you and presses a kiss to your forehead. "Now, please do those updates. I called in some big favors and made some promises to work this out." All you can do is nod before you are pulled from the Captain and crushed against Ghost's chest.

"Woohoo! You're staying with us, luv!" He drags you to the door with a bare minimum of respect for Captain Price, refusing to let you stop and say goodbye. "Time to go tell everyone. We will have a party!"

"I've never seen you so excited for anything, Ghost. Slow down, I'm gonna trip!" He huffs playfully but slows down.

"I wanted to get you out of there before the Captain decided he needed to address what you so casually stated, but it is exciting to keep you on. I have been trying to decide how to break into your office for those files for the last week." You stop and frown.

"Don't do that. It would be dangerous to try to steal them." He cocks an eyebrow. "Yes, dangerous. You seriously don't think all I have protecting them are a few flimsy filing cabinet locks after how long it took to get that information. There is life and death information in them. I called in a few favors to build a security system of sorts for it."

"That's... that's sexy as hell, luv. You are one loyal woman." He stares down at you for several long moments, starting when someone clears a throat a little ways away.

"Sorry to break up the party. I heard you had your meeting today. How did it go?" König asks innocently, making you glare at Ghost.

"You weren't supposed to tell anyone!" He holds his hands up in surrender, backing away.

"I was pretty sure you weren't leaving, promotion or not. We just want to celebrate with you."

"Ghost! Lech mich am Arsch! Bastardo! Schluckspecht!"

"Come, mein Schatz. It is good that we celebrate now. You are staying, and we do not have to stage a rebellion." König picks you up as though you are just a child, carrying you away from a laughing Ghost even as you yell more insults. You want to fight away from him, but you can't stop from pressing closer. You can barely stop yourself from nuzzling against his shoulder. It takes a minute then for you to realize that he has turned away from the rec room, which is where you're sure the party is supposed to be.

"König, where are you taking me?" You catch your traitorous fingers rubbing at the back of his neck under the mask. "Sorry."

"I like your hands on me, meine Prinzessin. I wanted to talk to you without prying eyes and ears..." You rub your fingers against his collarbone through his shirt. "Yes, I like that." You blush and lean forward, stopping just in front of his lips. He cups the back of your head, closing the distance and kissing you through his mask.

You feel your back pressed against a wall and hear the jingle of keys. König has brought you to his quarters. He carries you in, kicking the door shut and locking it. Laying you on the bed, he says, "Tell me what you want, Schatz. I need to know."

"I want this, König. I want you. Bitte." He quickly strips off his clothes and mask, giving you space to do the same.

"Gut. I will fuck you, then I will take you to the party as meine Prinzessin... if you can walk." He chuckles as he climbs on the bed, pushing your legs up and laying his cock against your stomach. "It will be a tight fit. Might take all night to loosen up you up." He is excited, talking fast and teasing you with his fingers already.

"Promise?" Your question is loaded, but he nods happily.

"Yes, Prinzessin. You will take the whole thing before the night is over. I will make sure of it." He leans down close to your ear, "I will make you mine forever."

#konig x reader #könig x reader #call of duty #cod smut #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #captain john price

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heich0e · 2 years

Text

osamu is a fantastic cook but a terrible baker.

he knows this about himself, and yet he still valiantly tries to make you a birthday cake on the first birthday the two of you are together. he's so embarrassed with the end result that he doesn't even want to show it to you.

"i woulda boughtcha one but i ran outta time because you were already on yer way 'n i-"

"c'mon, samu," you laugh, interrupting his babbling explanation. you tug gently on the sleeve of his t-shirt as you push yourself up onto your tiptoes in an attempt to peek over his shoulder at the mysterious item he's using his body to shield from view. "it can't be that bad!"

it is.

the cake is somehow both lopsided and caving in at the middle like a sinkhole. the topography of the cake's surface is craggy and uneven.

and the frosting.

"it looks like..." you trail off, your hand resting over your mouth in surprise.

"cum!" osamu groans miserably. "it looks like cum!"

he squats down on his kitchen floor with his head in his hands, visibly distraught. your eyes flicker from the cake down to the despairing face of your boyfriend and back again. processing. contemplating.

"it's the love of my life's birthday and i made a cake that looks like it's covered in--"

"hey, this is pretty good!"

osamu's eyes snap up towards where you stand above him, the little bite of cake you'd picked off the crumbling edge tucked against your cheek as you chew.

"you ate it?" he gapes, scrambling back up to his feet. he places a hand on either one of your shoulders. "ya can't eat that!"

"why not?" you ask, still chewing. "i told you it's not bad!"

osamu's brows pull together in confusion, his eyes scanning your face.

"...really?" he asks warily, like he doesn't quite believe you.

"really," you assure him. "i like it."

he pouts. "even though it's ugly?"

"it's certainly... unique," you weigh your reply carefully, swallowing down a laugh along with the mouthful of cake. "but yes, even then."

"even though it looks like it's got -"

you lift your fingers up to your mouth, little crumbs of cake and a drip of runny frosting still clinging to your fingertips. you keep your eyes on his as you run your tongue along your skin to catch the remnants, humming pleasantly at the taste.

"thank you for the cake, samu," you say once you pull your fingers out from between your lips, all clean.

osamu swallows down the saliva pooling in the back of his mouth, taking a step towards you - a hand on either side of your waist pinning you between his body and the kitchen counter. the woebegone cake sits forgotten off to the side.

osamu dips down so his mouth is ghosting over yours. close enough that he can almost taste the sugar that still lingers on your lips.

he smirks, sighing fondly.

"happy birthday, baby."

#osamu x reader #osamu x you #osamu miya x reader #osamu miya x you #osamu miya #hq drabble #hq writing #writing

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drpeppertummy · 8 months

Text

truthfully my friends this isnt something im overly into or experienced in & as such i have Absolutely no idea if its any good or not. godspeed

[alien-esque parasite creature-in-stomach bordering-on-rapid-horror-preg situation, ends in hospital post-surgery bc you know id never let it explode him but the hospital isnt like a whole big thing, nobody has a good time in this but hes fine]

Val was beginning to wonder if eating at that sketchy restaurant in Hell had been a good idea.

Truthfully, he'd known it was a bad idea from the start. He hadn't liked the look of the place when his sister had brought him there, the service had been awful, the food had been worse, and he'd felt a little off ever since. That had been a few days ago, and he was back home now. It was always shockingly cold returning to the mortal world after visiting his family, but he was glad to be back in Connie's arms, even if it meant braving the chilly autumn air.

Exhausted from the busy week behind him, Val flopped down onto the bed. He was freshly showered and dressed in his pajamas, and very glad about it. Connie was taking her turn in the shower now. Sprawled out flat on his back, Val looked down at himself, and his brow furrowed. He hadn't felt quite right ever since visiting that restaurant, and he was still a little bloated. He laid his head back down on the pillow and rested his hands on his belly.

"Looks like your mom stuffed you like a turkey," Connie teased, standing in the doorway. "Does she think you're as skinny as I do?"

"Christ, does she," Val laughed.

"Maybe you oughtta visit more often, let her beef you up a little," she giggled, dropping herself onto the bed next to him.

"I don't think I could handle that," said Val. "You know everyone else in my family is like ten feet tall?" Connie laughed.

"And I bet they feed you like you are too, right?" She placed a hand on his rounded tummy and raised her eyebrows at how firm it felt. "Sheesh, you really feel stuffed."

"Tell you the truth, my sister dragged me out to some weird restaurant a couple days before I left. It was a mess, you never woulda gone in. Whatever I ate didn't sit right, I guess, my stomach's been a little funny ever since. I've spent the past few days feeling like I swallowed a bowling ball."

"Huh," said Connie, rubbing his belly. It gurgled uncomfortably under her hand. "Maybe you got, like, mild food poisoning or something."

"Maybe," he sighed. "Probably."

"Do you feel sick?"

"I don't know. Not quite. Just off. ADR, as they say at the vet. I mean, I definitely feel bloated, I can tell you that much."

"Believe me, you don't have to tell me," she chuckled, patting his belly. It didn't sound hollow, like it was filled with gas. Instead it sounded solid, like patting a rock, and it let out another sickly gurgle. Connie winced sympathetically.

Suddenly, Val sat up. Connie looked up at him, surprised. His face was difficult to read, but he seemed tense. Concerned, she sat up beside him.

"Val, what's the matter?" She placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't know," he said uncertainly, holding both hands against his tummy. He looked down, brow furrowed. Was he more bloated than before? His stomach felt tighter, and…strange, somehow. Almost as if something inside him was pulsing.

"Maybe you should go to urgent care or something," said Connie. She didn't like the look on his face, and she didn't like that he was still so bloated days after eating whatever he'd eaten.

"I can't go to urgent care. I'm not even human. They wouldn't know what to make of me even if I was feeling fine."

"Yeah, but…I don't know. I'm worried," she said, squeezing his shoulder. Now that he was sitting up, his belly looked even more distended than it had when he was laying, and it was oddly top-heavy, as though whatever was making it so swollen was stuck up in his stomach. She didn't like that at all.

Val couldn't disagree with her point of view. Still, he preferred to avoid letting people find out he wasn't human if he could help it. It was a dangerous secret to reveal, and there had been plenty of times where he'd nearly paid a heavy price for it. He didn't have much time to mull it over, though, because his thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a bizarre wave of pain in his stomach. He doubled over with a groan, clutching his belly.

"Val!" Connie grabbed his shoulders. Val remained frozen, trying to process what he'd just felt. It was pain, certainly, and pressure, but it almost felt like movement as well. Cautiously, he sat back upright, his breathing shallow and shaky.

"That's it, you're going to the hospital," she said, standing up. Val opened his mouth to protest when another surge of pain shot through him, and this time he definitely felt movement. He doubled over again, gaping like a fish as his belly pushed out against his hands.

Carefully, Connie pulled him to his feet, putting an arm around his waist to hold him steady, and hurried him out of the bedroom. As they walked, she felt something shift under her hand, and for a moment she froze, looking down at him.

"What the fuck was that?"

"I don't--I don't know," he choked out, desperately hugging his middle.

"Let's go," she urged, and practically dragged him out of the house.

Connie hastily put the directions into the GPS and was off like a flash before Val could even finish buckling up. His belly bulged conspicuously over the seatbelt, undeniably rounder than it had been earlier, and whatever was inside was growing restless. A moan of terror escaped him as he watched something move under the skin.

"Connie, I love you," he blurted out, his voice shaking.

"I love you too. Don't talk like you're gonne die. You're not gonna die." She reached out and grabbed his shoulder tightly before returning her hand to the wheel. Val thought she looked like she definitely thought he was going to die.

The pressure inside his stomach was unbelievable, and only seemed to be increasing as whatever was inside continued to move around and grow. It was growing fast now, and he could feel his stomach stretching and straining to contain it. He tried not to think about how far it could stretch before it burst.

"We're almost there," said Connie, trying to reassure herself just as much as him. She glanced over at him and was horrified to see his belly visibly squirming. Suddenly, his belly surged violently, and he let out a hoarse cry as the creature inside him began to thrash, pushing out hard against the walls of his stomach.

"Oh, god, please," he cried out, clutching his belly as his tightly-stretched skin was pulled tighter still. "Oh, please, god, no--"

Val woke up feeling like he'd been run through with a chainsaw. He wasn't sure where he was or what had happened, and he didn't have the strength to care. All he knew was that there was a horrible searing pain in his belly. As he regained consciousness, though, he began to recall the events of the night, and he looked down at himself. His belly was flat. Flat, and bandaged up. He let his head fall back onto the pillow with a sigh of relief.

The surgeon told him that he'd barely made it in time, and that they'd pulled something like a sucker-mouthed chupacabra out of his stomach, and that it was nearly the size of an infant, and that his wife had urged them to just not ask questions, and that after the procedure they were inclined to just roll with that, and that he'd have to stay in the hospital for at least a week. Val groggily accepted all of this information; the surgeon could've told him he'd grown a second head and he'd have nodded along. With his stomach intact, all he cared about now was seeing Connie.

EPILOGUE BECAUSE I CANT WRITE ENDINGS: It took one day for Val to win the hearts of all the nurses with his charm and only five for him to be released--for good behavior, he'd joked. Against all predictions, he recovered surprisingly quickly, although his tummy remained terribly sore for weeks; that was, of course, to be expected. He'd persuaded the hospital to let him ship the creature back to Hell for further evaluation. Astonishingly, they'd managed to get it out alive after sedating it right along with Val, and it had been nicknamed "Fluffy" by the frightened staff who were in charge of keeping it under observation. Fluffy, as it turned out, was a relatively common parasite found in undercooked lava cod, which was exactly what Val had eaten, although most of his fellow demons and devils were built sturdily enough that it wasn't much of a danger to them. Connie, who had been even more shaken up by the incident than her husband, received even more affection from him than usual in the following days. He felt awful for putting her through the experience--he'd expressed this, and she'd incredulously assured him that it wasn't his fault--and he made sure to bake her something special for taking care of him.

#writing #belly kink #tummy kink #i dont even know what to tag this as. enlighten me if u so desire idk #xvalx #xconniex #burst mention #i think its a little dull for what it is Tbh #im out of practice when it comes to writing Scary Frantic Shit

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