i have a cold so i wont do another one of these for a few day sniffle

anonymous asked:

15. medicine, and winteriron? :)

Bucky has been sick for the better part of the month.

It’s been miserable, for sure. Especially being around Steve who, contrary to his youth, remains healthy always. And so damnably chipper that Bucky actually chanced the harsh cold to make it to the store and stare blearily at the shelves while trying to find that vapor rub he loves so much. Because, let’s face it, Bucky is the hard, intense Bitch Face to Steve’s Labrador puppy smile and while he may love Steve like a brother that doesn’t mean he has to put up with his Little Miss Sunshine shit all the time.

He belatedly realizes that Steve should be the one out of the house standing lost in the pharmaceutical isle of Walmart. Since he lost his arm while in the army he’s always been more about immediate action than forward planning. Anything to keep himself safe. Just not always the best plan, per-se.

Either way, it’s in that isle, somehow only being able to find Baby Aspirin over literally any other kind, which Bucky gets bumped into.

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anonymous asked:

hey~ can i have kouen jafar sinbad nsfw with their s/o in public? thx^^

I will do my best, Anon! I don’t have a lot of time for full out smut, but I will lead up to it. I am willing to extend any of these to the bumping of uglies, but one request per ask, please. This goes for any of the scenarios I’ve typed up.
Also I don’t know how many of you guys are fan of the Dynasty Warriors series, but is it just me or does Kouen remind ya’ll of the video game’s interpretation of Cao Cao?

-Red Toxon

P.S. I’m sorry, I don’t know what went wrong while I was writing Ja’far.

P.S.S. I’m sorry this took like almost 3 days to write. My life got a little busy.

Kouen Ren

Kouen had invited you to join him in the garden for a walk today. It wasn’t very uncommon, you and him have similar interests, and walking in the garden sharing ideas on famous historical events.  Sometimes he would ask you on one date “what would have happened to the world if” about different historical wars and their outcomes and wait for the next date for your opinion on them. 
Despite him being a cruel man when it came to such debates and if you didn’t properly back up any claims with research he would have no qualms insulting you for being lazy about the conversation–you adored him. 

He felt more or less the same, because no matter what half ass argument you would bring in for debate, he would still wish to see you again. For the most part that had been the relationship. 

“Leave,” is the first thing Kouen states, motioning to your court appointed attendants. 

“Well, do as he says,” you add, looking to them, “Don’t stand around waiting for a reason, you know he isn’t going to give you one.” 

The two women who had been asked to keep you company while you stay in the castle bow and make a retreat as you walk closer to Kouen.  You let silence win for a long moment because of his horrible habit of not always speaking where people normally would.

“Why did you ask them to leave?”

“I wanted you as alone as I possibly could today,” the prince remarks, offering you his arm. You hook your arm in his and let him lead your typical walk.

“Any possible reason,” you ask, giving him an offhanded look. You might love him, but you hardly trust him. It feels like you’re hooking arms with a snake.

“I need an answer.”

“To the last debate you left me with? I told you when you asked for this date I didn’t have time to come up with a response that you wont insult me over.”

“No. The other question,” he states in a mildly deeper tone, his pace slowly to a near stop.

“The other…. oh you mean–Kouen…” you sigh, looking away from him almost defeatedly. He did ask you to marry him. It’s been almost a year and you still can’t say yes or no. You’re just a scholar.

He pulls your arm closer to him, grasping your hand in his and pulling it to his mouth where he kisses your flesh lightly; peppering small kisses down the side of your hand till his lips rest on your wrist. He pases there, smirking at the flush that has crept onto your face. “I can wait, but I cannot wait forever.”

This was forward. Perhaps the most affection he’s shown you since he first asked and you don’t have it in you to pull you hand away. Instead you wiggle your hand about until he loosens his grip enough to let you cup your palm to his cheek. “If you had done something like that sooner, I might have told you yes by now.”

That earns another smirk, and an actual kiss. It was quick, hard, sudden, and full of a passion you would never expected from a man you had pegged as cold from the moment you met him.

His free arm slips around you, pressing you to him as the hand that held your arm increases its grip again to keep you captive for this moment of his weakness. It was a weakness you were equally sharing, meeting his kiss as if you were trying to swim to the surface of a lake for air. 

The kiss lasts for what felt like minutes, and ends after you feel something else against your back that wasn’t his arm. There were a few trees in the garden and he has you pushed up against one of them. 

“Kouen,” you sigh, before pulling him back into this kiss as his arm formerly around you, starts migrating under your clothes. You’ll give him an answer alright, after this is out of both of your systems.


“Nooo…stop! Doing! Sinbad’s! Job,” you whine, tugging on the back of Ja’far’s robes. 

He refuses to stop walking with the documents in his arms, and tries not to flinch or look back when he hears you fall to the floor. If he just keeps walking, even if he drags you, surely, he thinks, you’ll let go. “I have too–he skipped out on working again!”

By the time he reaches a set of stairs and you haven’t yet let go, he pauses. It’s really tempting to test you, and start up the stairs, but he finally gives in and looks over his shoulder.

Your sad eyes meet his, and then and there you have won. He looks about ready to have a heart attack when you add a sniffle for added effect. You had a choice between him or Sinbad, remarkably enough, and you picked Ja’far, and Sinbad would never forgive him if he made you cry.

“No, no, no, don’t cry,” he begins, turning around in a small panic after setting down the scrolls and kneeling down towards you.

“I’m not,” you retort, sniffling again, “The floor is just remarkably dusty.”

“Playing with my feelings,” he states coldly, the light completely vanishing in his green eyes.

“I was not, you were going to drag me up the stairs!”

“I wasn’t! I would never…” it wasn’t a bad idea, but he wasn’t going to do it, and sits down on the bottom step instead. “The thought didn’t even cross my mind.”

You sit yourself up onto your legs as he sits down, and start dusting yourself off. “Sure it didn’t,” you mutter, sniffling again. A sigh escapes Ja’far who hands you a handkerchief. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” he murmurs, glancing at the documents that still needed to be gone over as you wipe your nose. 

“I’ll keep this,” you then say, tucking the cloth away before looking at the man. He looked so downcast because you’ve distracted him. You finally got him, but he’s still thinking of work and work is just a thing you can’t compete with. “Anyways, I guess…. I guess I’ll let you get back to work. I’m sorry.”

Ja’far knots his brow, looking back to you with a confused look. “Why are you sorry? I’m the one… not even spending time with you, (R/N), I’m sorry.” He didn’t like your tone, it did break him a bit. 

Leaning forward, you give him a soft kiss on the nose as you raise to your feet. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” You then turn around, only to find a pair of arms have wrapped around you and a kiss placed on the back of your neck.

“You’ve already stopped me, (R/N), you might as well just spend some time with me, a few minutes–I can let you walk away like this,” he admits with desperation on his tone.

For a long moment you stand there, feeling his grip get tighter and tighter around you. You know what this is doing to him on the inside. On one hand he’s hating you for this emotional moment, but on the other he’s breaking because this distance between you both is increasing with every day he’s avoided you. “I want to tell you, Ja’far, that this relationship isn’t working out–we’re supposed to be getting to know each other, but it’s been how long, and the only thing I know about you is where you are going to be at any given point during the day, and every room you’ve been in shows no sign of you ever being in there once you leave,” a pause, “and when you enter a room, you’re not even there.”

“I’m right here, right now, (R/N), please.. don’t do this,” the young man rattles out in a wet sounding sigh, his arms loosening around you, “I… really didn’t mean for it to get like this. I-I… I put off time with you at first because I wanted to get more work out of the way so we could spend more time together.” 

While he spoke, you turned about in his arms. His hands move to your shoulders, gracing the sensitive skin on your neck with his thumbs. “I said that’s what I want to tell you, but I also want to tell you that I love you and I’m stupid enough to give you all the chances you need to find out how to fit me into your workload.”

This time, he sniffles. He looks like he could start crying, but instead he kisses you, pulling you in by raising his hands into your hair and holding it. This was an odd feeling, a heart breaking emotional moment shouldn’t make him so aroused, and yet here he was. 

It caught you off guard, but not enough to stop you. This whole situation got like this because you wanted a small kiss earlier, and look at how out of control it got. 

Eventually the kiss comes to an end with him pulling back while nibbling on your bottom lip. “Let’s start now,” he says, his voice raspy with this emotionally spurred arousal.

“Right now?”

“On the steps.”


He attempts to use another kiss to answer your question, pulling you back with him gently as he sits back down on the steps and you onto his lap. Straddling him, you let your hands rest on his chest, before parting the kiss.

“Ja’far, you can’t be serious.”

The fair skinned young man with a face soft enough to almost be called a ‘boy’ by a person who didn’t know better looked at you with almost cold eyes. It wasn’t they were cold, it was just he was full of intent right now and he didn’t want to put too much thought into it. “Then don’t make too much noise.”

He kisses you before anymore protest, moving his hands to your hips, aiding you in grinding him. He is going to get weeks work of making up out of thr way right now if he so can.

Sinbad (I wont lie, I love that Sinbad’s easy because this means I don’t have to worry about the writing getting out of control)

It was another celebration, and this time, instead of the large handful of young women that Sinbad gets to sit on his lap during it, he had pulled you over to keep him company. The whole relationship was a political set up and one of the rules was he was not allowed to touch you.

However, he’s been drinking and you’ve been feeling a little lonely, so your protest was short. “Sinbad, I would rather not sit on your lap,” you remark, your back up against the armchair of his seat.

“I’ve been neglecting you though, and no woman should feel neglected in my presence,” he replied hotly, having leaned to whisper it into your ear. 

The warmth of his breath causes you to shiver, and you start to lean away from him, but his arms slip around you and hold you tight. 

“Hey,” you whisper warningly, only to get kisses from him on your neck in response.

“I’m going to be kind of sad then this fake relationship ends, (R/N),” he murmurs between kisses.

“Even when it does,” you reply, tilting your head back, allowing him to do what he wants while your eyes glance up at the night sky, “You still get all the benefits. There is honestly nothing left to gain from this.”

“There’s you,” he says, moving his left hand onto your right thigh and stroking him thumb against the thin fabric that might be the only thing keeping you safe from him.

“You’ll still flirt with other women, though,” you whimper, not pushing yourself away, but turning yourself more towards him. His  expression brightens at your movement, while his thumb makes a more active attempt to torment you.

“I’ll only flirt with them. You are more than enough for me. Let me get to know you more,” he says huskily, leaning in for a proper kiss. You surprise him with some tongue.

“You’re only saying this because you’re drunk,” you mutter darkly after the long moments the kiss lasted, only to get your words repaid with more pressure from his thumb. Stifling the moan was difficult.

“I’m not as drunk as I could be. I only drank enough to be able to not cry if you rejected me,” he retorts, nuzzling his forehead against yours as he begins to smirk.

“I… I have neverrr…seen you…cry. Ohh…” his teasing of you was so close into turning you into a mess, and subconsciously you bite his shoulder. That makes him grunt pleasurably and was almost enough to break you then and there.

“I have no intention of ever being that weak in front of you if I can so help it–but,” he smiles wickedly, “if you can refrain from crying out, I promise you a fun rest of the evening.” 

Saving Agent Stiles

Fic Request: Stydia are engaged. Stiles is an FBI agent & Lydia is a surgeon. Stiles get shot on assignment one night while Lydia is on call in the ER. Stiles comes through the doors. Stiles isn’t doing well & he needs emergency surgery. Lydia refuses to let anyone do surgery on him expect for her. She believes the combination of the tether bond she shares with him & her skilled surgical are the only way to save him. She’s right of course.

Rating: K+

Genre: Doctor!Lydia, Agent!Stiles, Established Relationship

Author: avemasterherondale

A/N: I might have strayed from the details of the original prompt a little bit, but I hope this still does it justice.

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It Won’t Be Like This For Long

Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,014

Request: Hi!! I absolutely love your fics!!! i was wondering if you could please do a DeanxReader oneshot based off the song It Wont Be Like This For Long by Darius Rucker? Thank you so much!

Warnings: None

A/N: It’s like you read my mind! I’ve always wanted to do a fic to this song. It can literally make me cry when I’m feeling nostalgic. So I made “her” named Mary because reasons. Also, sorry for skipping around on the request list, probs gonna be doing that a lot, but it’s easier and quicker for me if I write the fics that I have ideas for. P.S. Happy Thanksgiving for my US peeps, hope you like!!

For deanbowlegsackles

Your name: submit What is this?

Dean was exhausted. Absolutely exhausted. In the past, he had gone without sleep for days when necessary, or just when he couldn’t find sleep. But this was different. This was a bone aching exhaustion with no end in sight.

It seemed like every time Dean closed his eyes, the crying would start again. The sound grated against his ears and made him want to bury his head under his pillow. But instead he would rise and check on the little girl, or maybe you would. It depended on who was less delirious at the moment.

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