#I felt like it watered him down a little bit
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flowersforbucky · 1 day ago
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okay i have been soooo behind on my to be read fics lately and i'm so sorry 😭 i'm so glad to finally read this. it was incredibly beautiful and unique. i really enjoy your portrayal of how bucky would be in the earliest days of his recovery. i feel like i see so many fics (and don't get me wrong, those fics are great too) where he's portrayed as bucky with hints to his trauma here and there, but very rarely do i see a portrayal like this, where he's still very much in the mindset of soldat with hints of bucky sprinkled in.
more under the cut!
"There's absolutely no way that he's staying here. Have you completely lost your mind? What if he suddenly snaps or loses control and goes completely berserk, hm? What if one night those sleeper triggers buried in his brain suddenly activate and he systematically takes us out one by one in our sleep?" Tony added emphatically, his hands gesturing wildly in the air as he attempted to visualize the gruesome scenarios playing out in his mind.
i actually love tony as a character so much lol i feel like you wrote his dialogue spot on
"Come inside with me, I'll take care of you." You offered quietly, your voice gentle and reassuring as you extended your hand towards him. Your body language remained open and non-threatening, shoulders relaxed and posture deliberately casual to help put him at ease and to show him you felt no fear.
i love how reader is gentle but still direct with him because i think that's what he would need in this case. he's so used to being told what to do, i can imagine that it's more natural for him to obey a command, but the gentleness she possesses is what he deserves after never being shown that with any handler.
His shower routine was notably brief, years of conditioning taught him to minimize the time spent on his personal care. Upon finishing, he emerged from behind the curtain and efficiently dried himself with the provided towel.
i love how much thought you put into what his habits would be post winter soldier. i have no doubt that you're right - i'm sure he got very little time, if any, for self care. it would definitely take him a lot of time to realize that it's okay to take longer showers and take extra time with caring for yourself.
"How about...I could make some soup real quick? Tomato and grilled cheese might be a safe option for you. Shouldn't upset your stomach too much if you haven’t been eating a lot, and it will warm you up if you're still feeling cold."
tomato soup and grilled cheese is always a good choice <3
Gradually, the rigid tension that had defined his existence began to melt away, and he started allowing more intimate gestures of care. He let you gently brush his unruly hair into place, carefully wash his face with warm water, or trim his growing stubble for him.
ahhhh the kind of care he deserves. these are the kind of things that make me think bucky's love language would be acts of service 💕
"Мне не нравится д��литься вашим вниманием. [I don't like sharing your attention]," he muttered with an undertone of possession, his lips curling into a slight frown as he gradually leaned closer to you. His silken hair delicately tickled your face as he slowly lowered himself, the tips of your noses barely grazing against each other in an intimate gesture. His lips parted ever so slightly, revealing a glimpse of anticipation before he dipped his head down, warm lips pressing a tender, lingering kiss to your jawline.
AHHHH the possessiveness!!! god!!! please!!! maybe i am a tiny tiny bit fucked in the head but the thought of him being possessive over me in any state makes me so 🫠🤭🙃
The soldier was absolutely transfixed at the sight of your breasts, eyeing the soft mounds and peaked nipples as they hardened in the cool air, growing increasingly sensitive and rosy with your mounting arousal. It was like he was completely mesmerized by the sight before him, the fucking Winter Soldier, the most dangerous assassin in history, stopped dead in his tracks at the mere sight of your bare breasts.
maybe i am just delulu but i really do believe my tits could have that effect on him so thank you so much for putting my delusion into perfect words and indulging me <3
"Моя сейчас. [Mine now]," he muttered softly, his warm breath ghosting across your skin as his lips hovered mere millimeters from your own.
YES I AM YOURS YOU CAN SAY THAT AGAIN!!!
ugh you never fail to amaze me with the love and care that you put into this character.
Sugar Plums. | W.S
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summary: The soldier has an attachment to you.
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warnings: Suggestive 18+ MDNI & Fluff | Winter Soldier!Bucky | Brief mentions of PTSD | Brief talk of HYDRA | Heavy petting | Love biting/hickeys
a/n: This came to me randomly but thought it was cute and somewhat spicy. I added some fluff to balance it all out and tried to keep the sexy scenes sweet too. I see so many fics of him being super aggressive in bed and those are great, but for me I think he'd be a little more like this. Takes place after the events of CA:TWS. Contains roughly translated Russian, native speakers can correct me if anything was translated wrong. Ty. ;; wc: 5.5k
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It was so awkward.
Everyone sat frozen in place, their eyes locked on the imposing figure of the Winter Soldier as he towered behind you, his piercing blue eyes methodically scanning the room and studying each occupant with an intensity that made them shift uncomfortably in their seats.
"Absolutely not!" Tony was the first to break the suffocating silence, his voice sharp and decisive as he beat Steve to speaking by a mere second. There was absolutely no way he would even consider allowing the fist of HYDRA to take up residence in his tower, treating him like he was nothing more than some lost stray that needed sheltering. "He's not staying here, no way in hell - this isn't a halfway house for reformed assassins."
"Tony, come on. HYDRA is gone, their control over him is broken," you reasoned desperately, your voice taking on a pleading tone as you gestured toward the silent figure behind you, "He's been surviving on his own for weeks, barely getting by. Just look at him...he's exhausted, malnourished, and clearly needs somewhere safe to stay and recover."
"Uh, how about no?" Tony fired back, staring at you like you had grown a second head...or like you had a towering sleeper soldier looming behind you.
Tony wasn't your favorite person in the world, but he was usually somewhat reasonable.
"There's absolutely no way that he's staying here. Have you completely lost your mind? What if he suddenly snaps or loses control and goes completely berserk, hm? What if one night those sleeper triggers buried in his brain suddenly activate and he systematically takes us out one by one in our sleep?" Tony added emphatically, his hands gesturing wildly in the air as he attempted to visualize the gruesome scenarios playing out in his mind.
"Your state-of-the-art security cameras can't give us a heads up before that happens?" You asked with dry sarcasm, your tone deliberately flat and unimpressed, clearly making a joke while you tried to find some kind of middle ground that would get the agitated, self-proclaimed playboy to calm down and think rationally.
"No chance in hell, sweet cheeks," he folded his arms and glared at you with sternness that etched across his features. "Too dangerous."
"He's staying, whether you like it or not," you replied in the same unwavering tone, standing your ground with resolute conviction. "He's hurt, weak, completely vulnerable. There's absolutely nothing he could possibly do in this state. He needs somewhere warm and safe to stay, especially since he's been struggling to survive out on the streets for weeks now. Besides, winter is coming fast and there’s no way he won’t get hypothermia or something." You added with concern, knowing full well that while the soldier hadn't been entirely helpless during his ordeal, he certainly hadn't managed to secure any kind of stable shelter.
His temporary refuges consisted only of cold spaces beneath bridges, dark corners tucked away in forgotten alleys, or the remains of abandoned buildings - not a single place where he could truly let his guard down or feel protected from the harsh elements. With winter's rapid approach and already light dustings of snow, the temperatures would only get more brutal as the nights went on.
You continued to argue with Tony, Steve butting in every so often, luckily siding with you, desperate to have his old friend somewhere safe. It was a long, frustrating argument that lasted much longer than need be.
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Earlier that day, while you had been making your way down the frost-covered street of New York's downtown district, his eyes had caught sight of your familiar form. Something deep within him told him to follow you, a magnetic pull that he couldn't explain. He obeyed the instinct, trailing silently behind you all the way back to the tower. When you finally became aware of his presence, he was thoroughly drenched from the steadily falling snow, his cheeks and nose having turned a bright, rosy color from the biting cold as he tried to suppress his constant shivering.
The moment you made your sudden turn to approach him, he visibly startled, immediately taking a defensive step backward as his mind raced through all the possible scenarios and potential threats. His eyes darted across your face with obvious wariness as you fully turned to face him, his entire body subtly shifting its weight from foot to foot, muscles tensed and ready to bolt away.
"It's okay...you look cold..." You spoke softly, your voice barely above a whisper, trying not to startle him as you took in his disheveled appearance. The soldier, the one whose face had practically been plastered across every news channel, the same one Steve had spoken about with such raw emotion in his voice.
You remembered how Steve had mourned his best friend, utterly confused and devastated about why he had saved from the river, while Bucky fell to what should have been his death. Steve held onto that grief, that guilt, like a lifeline. He held onto it so desperately, clinging to the faintest hope that a sliver of Bucky was still somewhere deep inside the persona of the Winter Soldier.
Looking at him now, you couldn't see any trace of the man from Steve's stories - the soldier's eyes were too wild and wide, filled with fear and confusion.
But despite everything you'd heard, despite the destruction you'd witnessed on the news, despite the intense warnings from everyone in the tower, there was something about his presence that didn't trigger your fight or flight response.
He didn't make you feel unsafe.
He looked absolutely beat down, exhausted to his very core, his shoulders slumped in a way that made you wonder when he'd last had a moment's rest. You weren't even sure he could take you down if he tried in this state, though you knew his reputation suggested otherwise. He was shaking from the cold air as it blew in a stinging breeze, his metal arm gleaming dully in what little light remained, while the incoming winter storm brought with it a thick haze and countless tiny pinpricks of needle-like snowflakes that seemed to cut through the air.
"Come inside with me, I'll take care of you." You offered quietly, your voice gentle and reassuring as you extended your hand towards him. Your body language remained open and non-threatening, shoulders relaxed and posture deliberately casual to help put him at ease and to show him you felt no fear.
After a few silent moments where his piercing blue eyes studied you through the thick haze, he finally shifted his weight forward and took a step in your direction.
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The water in the shower had set a steady steam in the bathroom, the mirror had fogged and the tiles sweat below your bare feet.
You could hear the gentle splashing of water against the bathtub as he cleaned himself. The mechanical whirring of his metal arm caught your attention, hopefully that thing was waterproof, but it must be, right?
After setting out a fresh towel and clean clothes for his use, you quietly excused yourself to provide him with privacy. The state of his current attire was awful, every piece was thoroughly saturated and carried an unmistakable stench that made you wrinkle your nose. The clothes were in such poor condition that you couldn't help but wonder if they had been scavenged from someone who no longer needed them.
You wouldn’t put it past the soldier to steal from a cadaver.
His shower routine was notably brief, years of conditioning taught him to minimize the time spent on his personal care. Upon finishing, he emerged from behind the curtain and efficiently dried himself with the provided towel. His gaze fell upon the fresh clothes you had thoughtfully placed by the sink, while his previous garments had been discreetly removed.
The soldier hesitated momentarily before donning the clean outfit. It wasn’t anything fancy, a pair of grey sweatpants emblazoned with the Avenger's logo along the side and a simple yet comfortable black tank top. When he finally emerged from the bathroom to face you, his body language betrayed his uncertainty as he stood there, not sure what to do now. Comfort was completely foreign to him, and care was a dream away.
"Tony finally gave in," you replied softly, your voice sounded in the quiet stillness of the bedroom. "He said you could stay here with us."
He remained motionless, his expression blank and unreadable as he stood there, offering neither response nor the slightest hint of acknowledgement to your words. You weren’t sure what to expect but that seemed pretty in character for him at the moment.
"You'll be staying in my quarters since no one else is comfortable having you in their space just yet...but don't worry too much about that," you reassured gently, though you could tell from his demeanor that others' opinions held little weight in his mind. "They'll come around after some time, I'm sure of it."
His gaze fixed upon you then, his brow creasing ever so slightly with an unspoken question as he began to move. Each step was deliberate and measured as he crossed the room, closing the distance between you until he stood directly in front of you, close enough that you could see the water droplets from his freshly washed hair beading at the ends and falling onto the fabric of your top, leaving dark spots where they landed.
"Everything's going to be fine," you said with gentle reassurance, trying to ease the tension in the air. "Why don't we head to the kitchen and get you something to eat? You must be hungry." You offered, hoping to bring some normalcy to the situation.
The soldier shadowed your every movement, following closely behind like a faithful companion who refused to stray from their master's side.
Upon entering the expansive kitchen, you immediately made your way to the industrial-sized refrigerator, searching through its contents for something suitable to offer him. The kitchen was perpetually stocked to the brim with an array of foods, snacks, and ingredients, practically anything one could imagine or desire. It was like having a private, fully-stocked grocery store.
Though with a the ravenous super soldier with enhanced metabolism, the mighty Asgardian god whose appetite matched his status, and Banner's surprisingly hulk-ish consumption…the team still depleted their food with an efficiency that would put a pack of famished wolves to shame.
"Hm...what should you have...do you want anything specific?" You turned over your shoulder to address him, but he maintained his characteristic silence. Unmoving, and completely stoic, like a statue carved from marble.
"Нет [No]," came his quiet response, the Russian word rolling off his tongue deeply. He remained perfectly still, observing with careful attention as you continued your search through the refrigerator's contents, trying to determine what would be most appropriate for him to eat. Your mind was working quickly, knowing you wanted to avoid anything too time-consuming to prepare. You wanted to get some food into him sooner rather than later.
"How about...I could make some soup real quick? Tomato and grilled cheese might be a safe option for you. Shouldn't upset your stomach too much if you haven’t been eating a lot, and it will warm you up if you're still feeling cold." You turned back toward him once more, studying his features carefully for any hint of reaction or preference to your suggestion, any subtle change in his expression.
But, he didn't provide even the slightest indication of his feelings.
You decided on tomato soup and a grilled cheese anyway, you figured it was best and immediately set to work in the kitchen.
Although you typically prided yourself on preparing meals completely from scratch, this particular circumstance called for something different. You assembled the sandwich, buttering the bread before placing it in a heated pan to get a golden-brown crust while keeping a watchful eye on the pot of soup simmering beside it, occasionally stirring for even heating.
Once everything reached the perfect temperature and consistency, you transferred the meal onto clean dishes, relieved it didn’t take too long. You presented him with the steaming bowl of soup and perfectly grilled sandwich, watching as the soldier deliberately took his place at the counter, his eyes fixed intently on the rising steam from the bowl before him.
You watched him, noting how his entire body remained unnaturally rigid and motionless, as though every muscle was locked in place and braced for something. His lips bore a slight sheen of moisture, like he had licked them at some point when you weren't watching. Yet despite his obvious hunger, he hadn't made even the slightest attempt to reach for the food. His eyes held intense longing and hesitation, briefly meeting yours before quickly darting away, as if making eye contact was somehow forbidden.
"What's wrong?" You asked with growing concern etched across your features, "You're hungry aren't you? I can tell you haven't eaten in a while. Especially not anything warm, at least. I know it can be hard out there, all by yourself…"
His response came in the form of an almost imperceptible nod, his gaze remaining firmly fixed on the bowl and sandwich before him, as though they were the most important and most dangerous objects in the room.
"So why aren't you eating? The food's getting cold, it won’t be as good if it cools too much."
"Я не могу совершить действие без приказа. [I cannot perform an action without an order]," the soldier responded in barely more than a whisper, his voice carrying the weight of years of conditioning.
You stood there, completely lost in the language barrier between you. Your limited knowledge of Russian extended only to the most basic words - 'да' and 'нет' - leaving you clueless by his response and worried about the implications of his behavior.
You didn't want to wake Natasha, even though she would certainly understand what he was saying in Russian, but disturbing her sleep for something as simple as a quick translation seemed unnecessary and might put her in a bad mood. Instead, an idea popped into your head that would avoid an angry widow. You reached for your phone and placed it on the smooth counter surface, navigating to a translator app before looking up at him again. "Can you repeat that?"
The soldier's eyes flickered briefly to the phone screen, taking in the sight of the translation app with what seemed like recognition, before his gaze deliberately returned to the untouched food laid out before him. "I cannot perform an action without an order," he stated in perfect, albeit mechanical English this time.
You blinked in surprise, thoroughly caught off guard by the sudden switch to English when he had been persistently speaking Russian up until this point. "Okay...well...eat then, you can eat freely here, you don't need an order to do that." You slowly tucked your phone away into your pocket as his right hand gradually lifted from where it had been resting in his lap, reaching out to pick up the sandwich.
You weren't sure what you were expecting, but he wolfed down his food within a minute, that sandwich was gone within maybe three bites. The soup swallowed just as fast.
God, he was starving, and the realization made your heart ache.
"Better?" You asked gently, to which he only nodded, swallowing the last of the food in his mouth.
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This became routine, the soldier stuck by your side like a duckling imprinting on its mother.
He followed you diligently around every corner of the tower, his protective instincts activated as he positioned himself like an ever-vigilant guardian. His eyes constantly scanned the surroundings, noting how others would cast uncertain and sometimes suspicious glances in his direction.
These looks made him increasingly self-conscious and anxious, as though he were some exotic creature put on display at a zoo for others to gawk at. But in your presence, he seemed a bit more at ease. He genuinely liked being around you.
Gradually, the rigid tension that had defined his existence began to melt away, and he started allowing more intimate gestures of care. He let you gently brush his unruly hair into place, carefully wash his face with warm water, or trim his growing stubble for him.
He accepted these tender ministrations without the slightest resistance or complaint, though a nagging worry lingered in your mind that his compliance stemmed from years of conditioning to submit to others' wishes. Each time you worried about that, you’d see a genuine warmth and contentment in his gaze rather than submission, showing you that he truly found comfort and pleasure in your gentle touch.
It was evening, the room reflected the warm glow of festive holiday lights emanating from a miniature Christmas tree nestled in the corner. The soldier found himself transfixed by the small decorated tree, his eyes lingering on each twinkling light as their vibrant colors danced and shimmered. The sterile, monotonous walls he had grown accustomed to during his confinement were nothing compared to the colorful lights. The gentle play of red, green, and gold seemed to awaken something long dormant within him, he almost wanted to plant himself in front of the tree and just stare at it.
Tony may have allowed his stay, but that didn’t mean there weren’t restrictions. He was stern about where and when the soldier could go anywhere with you, and he demanded that he not leave your room afterhours. It wasn’t hard to follow, the solider showed reluctance to leave your room at all, having been so accustomed to being kept in one room. You didn’t push him, but you felt bad for him because he was missing how the tower had been decorated for the holidays. So, you got a smaller tree for the bedroom to provide some kind of festive look for him to take in.
You emerged from the bathroom, wisps of steam following in your wake, your damp hair leaving little droplets on your shoulders as you continued to towel it dry with scrunches. He remained motionless on the edge of your bed, his attention immediately shifting as he turned and blinked up at your approaching figure.
His icy eyes traced a deliberate path across your form, which was barely concealed beneath the thin fabric of your sleep shirt, the hem teasingly brushing against your mid-thigh with each movement. "I am beat," you sighed heavily, your voice carrying the weight of the day's festivities. The marathon of holiday activities had clearly taken its toll, leaving you thoroughly drained. The tower often held an array of things to do because Tony loved to show off what he could afford, and it wasn’t like anyone else would object.
He observed with rapt attention as you made your way onto the bed and settled back against the pillows, releasing a deep exhale that seemed to melt away the day's tension. His unwavering gaze remained fixed on the rhythmic, hypnotic motion of your chest rising and falling with each breath.
You felt the bed shift beneath you as he moved, his weight causing the mattress to dip and creak softly. He crawled over to where you lay, his arms positioning themselves on either side of your body, caging you in. Your eyes fluttered open to find him hovering directly above you, his presence overwhelming in its proximity. This was something new…he had always maintained somewhat of a distance before, never daring to position himself so intimately over top of you.
"Я скомпрометирован. [I'm compromised]," the soldier spoke in a hushed tone, his voice carrying that distinctive gravelly pitch that made you feel tingly. The tension between you had become damned near impossible to ignore. What had started as a subtle pull had grown into an overwhelming force of attraction that seemed to draw you both together like magnets.
Still, you forced yourself to hold back, maintaining that last thread of restraint. You had no way of knowing the depth of his emotional capacity, if he was even capable of genuine feelings, or wanted to experience them at all after everything he endured.
"Soldat...?" The whispered word escaped your lips as you noticed the subtle shift in his demeanor, the way his muscles tensed as he remained suspended above you, perfectly still. "You know I don't understand-"
"I am compromised," he repeated, switching to English this time. His voice had dropped even lower, carrying an edge of frustration that vibrated through the minimal space between your bodies.
"Comprom..." You sat up slowly on your elbows and shook your head in confusion, your brow furrowed as you tried to process his words. That’s what you’d say about a machine or computer, not a man. "What are you talking about?" Your eyes wandered downward, suddenly drawn to an unmistakable tent in his fitted briefs that became obvious from your new viewing angle, causing you to freeze in place as your breath caught in your throat.
So, he could feel things.
"Oh..." You felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you as you remained frozen in place, your cheeks growing warm. "I think I understand now...you're feeling a bit pent up, aren't you?"
His metal arm whirred softly, the sophisticated machinery humming as he moved to adjust his hand placement. "Да. [Yes]," he responded in a low voice, his gleaming titanium fingertips delicately ghosted across the bare skin of your thigh, just barely grazing beneath the hem of your thin sleep shirt. Goosebumps erupted along your body in response to the contact, the cool metal sudden against your flushed skin.
"Мне не нравится делиться вашим вниманием. [I don't like sharing your attention]," he muttered with an undertone of possession, his lips curling into a slight frown as he gradually leaned closer to you. His silken hair delicately tickled your face as he slowly lowered himself, the tips of your noses barely grazing against each other in an intimate gesture. His lips parted ever so slightly, revealing a glimpse of anticipation before he dipped his head down, warm lips pressing a tender, lingering kiss to your jawline.
You swallowed reflexively, your breath catching in your throat as you felt his warm, steady breath caress your sensitive skin, sending a visible shudder of growing excitement through your body.
He continued his gentle exploration, encouraged by your acceptance and the absence of any resistance. He pressed a trail of soft, purposeful kisses along the curve of your jaw, each one more intimate than the last, before gradually working his way down to your neck. His lips carefully followed the rhythmic flutter of your pulse beneath your skin, his tongue peeking out shyly to touch against you.
"Ah-" You voiced softly, feeling him settle on a particularly sensitive spot, right against the delicate side of your neck. It was nestled perfectly between the graceful junction where your neck connected to your collarbone, the skin there warm and inviting, holding a faint trace of blood flow from the intricate network of smaller veins positioned just beneath the surface.
He kissed many times with increasing intensity, clearly finding this spot ideal for his attentions. The soft, tentative pecks gradually became more passionate, open-mouthed kisses as each one was placed. His tongue began gently pressing against your skin with each lingering kiss, the pressure slowly growing in need. You felt your cheeks flush with warmth when he finally latched on, your eyes widening in surprise as the soldier's strong arms held you a little tighter.
Soldat began to suckle a mark, his ministrations gentle and teasing at first, but quickly growing in force and intensity as his skilled tongue swirled expertly around the trapped skin between his lips and teeth. The sensation drew a breathy moan from deep within you, making your entire body feel as though it were engulfed in flames of desire. Though you were completely helpless beneath the assassin, you had absolutely no intention or desire to push him away.
This felt too damned good.
Without thinking, your leg came up and hooked around his hips, drawing him closer until your bodies were flush against each other. The heat between you grew and you felt his painful erection trapped in his briefs, straining against the fabric as his arousal was staining them. Soldat exhaled sharply through his nose, his grip tightening possessively, but he did not let go.
His suckling grew increasingly intense, the sensitive skin tingling and starting to sting and burn with each passing moment. Still, he didn't release the bruised skin just yet.
Instead, he just bit down harder, ensuring the mark he left would last for days. You moaned loudly, your fingers gently tangling in his thick hair as your pleasured sounds encouraged his attention. He became more attentive when your little sounds of pleasure turned into sharp, quiet hisses - clearly indicating that the sensation had crossed from pleasure into discomfort, silently telling him to ease off.
When he did finally relent, he pulled back to admire his handiwork, looking down at the deep purple mark blooming on your neck. His breath came in heavy pants through his parted lips as he stayed quiet, watching intently as you struggled to catch your own breath too. The sight of you beneath him, disheveled and vulnerable, with flushed skin and labored breathing, was enough to draw him right back in.
He dipped back down with renewed hunger, his metal hand slowly threading through your hair before gently fisting it at the base of your skull, though his careful control ensured it wasn’t painful, just firm. He tugged just enough to guide your movement, encouraging you to expose more of your neck to his hungry gaze.
"E-easy..." You whispered, a note of anxious anticipation in your voice. You wanted more, god you wanted more, but his sudden change of behavior was a bit surprising for you.
"Понял. [Understood]," he whispered against your skin, pressing a soft kiss of reassurance to your jaw before returning his attention to your neck. Those soft kisses began again, trailing along your skin, but his restraint didn't last long as he quickly sought a new canvas for another mark. He latched onto a spot just a little bit higher on your neck, alternating between sucking and carefully controlled bites to gradually darken and bruise the sensitive flesh.
You felt bite after delicious bite, hickey after possessive hickey.
He marked the tender flesh of your neck in several deep, purple marks that bloomed like violent flowers across your skin...each one throbbing with a sweet ache when he pulled away. His tongue always swirled over the mark with care to soothe the sting of it, making you arch into his touch as you fell into a complete daze.
"S-Soldat," you muttered breathlessly, cheeks flushed crimson and eyelids heavy with desire. Your pupils matched his own - completely blown with hunger and desperate need. Those bermuda swirls meeting yours as he continued a torturously slow trail of hot kisses down your chest, nipping your collarbone with just enough pressure to make you gasp before following the gentle dip of your sternum.
He paused deliberately, pulling up so he could lift the thin sleep shirt over you and expose more of your bare chest to his hungry gaze, giving him better access for his heated kisses and teasing nips. Once your top was discarded somewhere on the floor, his hands gently but firmly held your sides, trailing up with reverent touches until settling against your ribcage. His larger hands completely encompassed your torso, making you feel small but protected.
The soldier was absolutely transfixed at the sight of your breasts, eyeing the soft mounds and peaked nipples as they hardened in the cool air, growing increasingly sensitive and rosy with your mounting arousal. It was like he was completely mesmerized by the sight before him, the fucking Winter Soldier, the most dangerous assassin in history, stopped dead in his tracks at the mere sight of your bare breasts.
You felt in charge now.
"What is it? Do you like them?" you purred softly to the soldier, your body swaying in a deliberately teasing motion that made them gently move. His eyes remained fixed, drinking in the sight before him as his lips parted ever so slightly. Slowly, his head tilted down again, surrendering to the moment. He let his face nestle against your chest, his lips trailing a constellation of unhurried kisses across your skin.
He began to nip and suckle the tender skin of your breasts, his mouth working to create deep, purple love bites on that delicate flesh. The bruising blossomed easily beneath his ministrations, almost like they were eager to show themselves.
His lips would find a promising spot, then he would begin lapping at the skin with gentle strokes of his tongue until he felt you squirming. The soldier took the sensitized flesh carefully between his teeth, rolling the captured skin while his talented muscle swirled and sucked.
Your chest displayed his passionate handiwork when he finally drew back to admire his creation. The plum-colored bruises created an intimate pattern across your skin, their rich hues made even more striking by the soft glow of the holiday lights that danced through the room, highlighting each carefully placed love bite until they seemed to shimmer like twilight stars against your flesh.
"Soldat...I think you covered enough surface area," you breathed, feeling overwhelmed by the intense throbbing that radiated from each mark he'd left. The sensation pulsed in waves across your skin, making it difficult to focus. Your neck was thoroughly covered in the passionate marks, and now your chest bore an equally impressive collection.
The soldier gazed down at you with intensely, his eyes taking in each little sugar plum bruise that decorated your skin like a masterpiece. Though they were scattered without any deliberate pattern, the overall effect clearly pleased him. You lay there looking thoroughly affected by his attention, hair mussed and breathing uneven, cheeks beautifully darkened with a dust of blush, just from his careful application of bites alone. The sight of you in such a state, marked so thoroughly, brought deep set satisfaction in his gut.
"Моя сейчас. [Mine now]," he muttered softly, his warm breath ghosting across your skin as his lips hovered mere millimeters from your own. The almost-kiss was delicate, just the faintest brush of contact that sent electricity dancing through your nerves. He almost seemed nervous to close that final distance, his confidence faltering despite the passionate trail of marks he had already left scattered across your skin.
He drew back slightly, seemingly snapping out of a trance, and you could see the vulnerability written plainly across his features as that nervousness flickered in his eyes. Shifting his weight, he settled back onto the bed, his right hand finding your knee and tracing gentle, soothing circles there with his thumb. The tender gesture matched his hushed voice as he spoke, "Я не хочу идти дальше. [I don't want to go any further]," the words carrying both certainty and a hint of apology.
Your brow furrowed deeply as you struggled to understand what he was trying to stay, the confusion evident in the slight crease between your eyebrows and the questioning tilt of your head. You really needed to study Russian. "Do you not want to continue?" you asked slowly and carefully, focusing more on interpreting the subtle nuances in his tone rather than trying to parse the exact words he was using.
His facial expression held hesitance and uncertainty, the slight downturn of his lips and the way his eyes wouldn't quite meet yours telling you what you needed to know. Body language was his primary mode of genuine communication, and you had become very good at reading these silent signals he unconsciously broadcast.
"It's okay, we can stop," you replied with a reassuring tone, making sure to keep your voice soft to help dissipate any lingering tension he might be feeling. "Let's just lay here, okay? We can cuddle without any kind of pressure to do anything else, if you want." You offered with a warm smile, wanting him to feel that his comfort and boundaries were completely respected and that there was no expectation or obligation to continue.
This was a lot of good progress with him, you typically just cuddled or he kept to his side of the bed but he had shown you a lot of sweet affection tonight, and you loved it, it meant he was growing more confident in himself and your relationship. The evidence of his passionate yet tender attention remained visible in the form of gentle, plum-colored marks that decorated your neck and chest as you lay beside him, watching as his silent form trembled slightly beneath the heavy warmth of the thick blankets that enveloped you both.
You opened your arms, offering him a warmer space, and he quickly scooted forward, tucking himself against you. Prone to being cold, he liked being under many layers of blankets, so you made sure to provide plenty for him to not only feel warm but secure. Plus...having you to hold him always helped.
Without the worry of being a soldier, he could rest easy like this.
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Thanks for reading. -em 🌿
Dividers by @/strangergraphics | Images found on Pinterest.
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luvyeni · 9 hours ago
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🩶… ( drabble ) that’s the spot ̨ ! ୨୧ 一 박종성 ՞
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⸃ ⸰ ⌁ jay getting turned on from a massageヾ
boyfriend!jay・ reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・oral sex ( f ) ‎ wc ・ ‎0.5k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library
request. can u write a fic where like u give jay a shoulder massage but it leads to more!! basing it off this tt
「 ୨୧ authors note 」 enjoy <3 !!
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coming home to a long day at practice; his shoulders slumping over as he made his way into your shared bedroom. “hey princess.” he leaned down kissing your lips. “hi baby.” you watched him drop his bag on the floor; groaning and rubbing his shoulder as he sat on the edge of the bed. “whats wrong baby?”
he looked at you, before sighing. “during practice i tweaked my shoulder.” he said. “it’s been killing me all day.” you frowned seeing him in pain. “did you ice it?” he nodded. “nothing is working, we have to perform soon and i hate to be in pain while dancing.”
listening to his complaints about his shoulders; growing increasingly more worried. “can i help anyway?” he smiled, rubbing your bare thigh. “you can go get the painkillers from the bathroom.” you nodded; standing up, walking into the bathroom to get the pills making your way back into the room. “here you go.” he gave you a thank you — climbing back into bed, sitting on your knees.
while taking the pills; he felt your soft touch on his shoulders — swallowing the pills with a sigh. “mhm princess.” you used your thumbs, massaging light circles into his shoulders, getting all of the knots out. “oh fuck princess that feels so good.” you smiled, knowing he loved this; it turned him on like crazy. “you know what this does to me.”
jay was one that could keep himself together; remaining poise in any situation — except this one, the moment your fingers touch his shoulders, his eyes are rolling to the back of his head in straight pleasure. “you feel good?” he nodded, a small moan slipping out. “you know it is.” he could feel himself getting hard, his cock chubbing up in his sweats. “oh shit!” a much louder moan falling from his lips as you got the exact spot that had been killing him the entire day. “there it is.” he groans. “that’s the spot.”
you pressed your knuckles into the spot and he felt a twitch in his cock. “mhm fuck princess, your hands are fucking magical.” he was about to cum untouched just from you massaging him. “wait fuck stop.” he breathed out. “stop!” you stopped moving, he let out a deep breath. “you okay baby?” you bit back a smile. “fuck you know im not.” he said. “im about to cum in my fucking pants and your laughing.” he snapped. “well what can i do for you.” he groaned. “get on your knees like a good girl.”
and so you did; he spread his legs allowing you to get in between them; his bulge making your mouth water. “fuck don’t just look at it, take it out princess.” his hands holding his body up; lifting his so you can pull his pants down. “that’s it take my cock out.”
his cock bouncing against his stomach, you gave his red tip a kiss, he twitched. “fuck im gonna cum as soon as you put me in your mouth.” feeling extra sensitive; he grabbed the back of your head trying to gain his dominance back. “come on open up.” he slapped the tip of his cock on your lips. “yeahhh that’s it.” He groaned as your lips engulfed his cock. “fuck you’re suck a good girl , sucking my cock like this.”
he let you do what you wanted; bobbing your head up and down his shaft, bringing his hand to your head to hold you down. “ah fuck!” your throat tightening around his cock head. “you know exactly what to do to make me feel better princess -fuck- such a good little cock sucker.” you were getting so fucking turned on. “come on baby girl , keep sucking -shit- im gonna cum.” he moaned. “you gonna take my cum right?” you nodded, he threw his head back. “fuck im cumming.”
you took him fully into your mouth; he let out a deep groan as he shot his load into the back of your throat. “fuck , that’s it make me cum with your tongue.” he held the back of your head , holding you down with a curse. “fuck good girl.”
he pulled you into lap; wiping the cum from the corner of your mouth. “can’t wait to stuff my cock inside this pretty pussy.” he buckled his hips up against your clothed cock. “you need to be careful. your shoulder.” you said, holding his shoulder to rub it ; his cock twitching again. “you know im feeling much better. “ he groaned. “but that didn’t matter; I was gonna fuck this sweet pussy regardless.”
“and no shoulder tweak was gonna fucking stop me.”
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©️LUVYENI
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amourquinn · 1 day ago
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( short fic ) 𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒
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pairing : quinn x fem!reader wc. 1.3k
genre : fluff and a little bit of angst, childhood friends to lovers no warnings
summary : you and quinn reconnect after years of silence during a summer evening at his family’s house, navigating awkwardness and unresolved feelings…
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the warm summer air was alive with the sound of cicadas and the faint hum of conversation drifting through the hughes’ backyard. the evening sun cast a golden glow over the lake behind their house, and the familiar scent of grilled food lingered in the air. it had been years since you’d set foot here, but the nostalgia hit you like a wave.
you tugged nervously at the hem of your sundress, watching as your parents exchanged pleasantries with jim and ellen hughes. they were as welcoming as ever, their smiles warm and genuine as they ushered everyone into the house.
and then you saw him.
quinn.
his brown hair was slightly tousled, and his quiet demeanor hadn’t changed much. but the boy you once knew had grown up. he stood a few feet away, talking to his brothers, his posture slightly stiff when his eyes flickered to you. you felt a pang in your chest as memories of your childhood friendship came rushing back—bike rides, movie marathons, and endless summer days spent together.
but those days felt like a lifetime ago.
you hadn’t spoken in years, not since life pulled you in different directions. he went off to chase his hockey dreams, and you stayed behind, caught up in your own world. the distance had been unintentional at first, but eventually, it became the norm.
quinn’s mom, ellen, had invited you and your parents over for dinner, much to your surprise. she’d been adamant, saying how much she missed your family and how wonderful it would be to “reconnect”.
“y/n!” ellen’s voice broke through your thoughts. “it’s so good to see you, sweetheart.”
you smiled and gave her a quick hug, trying to shake off the awkwardness.
“it’s good to see you too, mrs. hughes.”
her gaze darted between you and quinn. “you and quinn used to be inseparable. you’ll have to catch up tonight!”
you glanced at quinn, who gave you a small, polite smile before quickly turning back to his brothers.
yeah, this was going to be awkward.
⋆˙⟡
dinner was a mix of laughter and awkward silences. jack and luke tried their best to fill the gaps, cracking jokes and sharing stories, but you couldn’t ignore the tension between you and quinn. he was polite but distant, and you found yourself retreating into your shell.
after dinner, everyone dispersed—jack and luke headed into town, your parents stayed inside with jim and ellen, and you found yourself wandering toward the lake. the water was calm, reflecting the pink and orange hues of the setting sun.
“hey.”
you turned to see quinn standing a few feet away, his hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts.
“hey,” you replied softly.
for a moment, neither of you spoke. the only sound was the gentle lapping of the water against the shore.
“mind if i join you?” he asked.
“sure.”
he stepped closer, standing beside you as you both stared out at the lake. the silence between you was heavy, but it wasn’t unbearable.
“i didn’t think you’d come tonight,” he admitted after a while.
you glanced at him. “why not?”
he shrugged, his gaze fixed on the water. “it’s been a long time. i figured… i don’t know, maybe you wouldn’t want to see me.”
his honesty caught you off guard. “i thought the same about you,” you admitted.
he looked at you then, his blue eyes searching yours. “i didn’t mean for us to stop talking, you know. life just… got in the way.”
you nodded. “yeah. same here.”
another silence settled over you, but this time it felt lighter.
“do you remember what we used to do down here?” he asked, a small smile tugging at his lips.
you couldn’t help but smile back. “skipping rocks?”
“exactly.”
without another word, he bent down and picked up a flat, smooth stone, testing its weight in his hand before flicking it across the water. it skipped four times before sinking.
“not bad,” you teased, crouching down to find your own stone.
you took your time choosing the perfect one, then threw it with practiced precision. it skipped five times before disappearing beneath the surface.
“show-off,” quinn muttered, but there was a playful glint in his eyes.
for the next few minutes, you fell into an easy rhythm, laughing and teasing each other as you tried to outdo one another. it felt like old times, as if the years of distance between you had melted away.
when you finally ran out of good skipping stones, you both sat down on the dock, your legs dangling over the edge. the sky had darkened, and the stars began to emerge, twinkling against the velvety blackness.
“it’s beautiful out here,” you said, leaning back on your hands.
“yeah, it is,” he replied, his voice soft.
he hesitated, as if debating whether to say what was on his mind. finally, he sighed and looked away, focusing on the rippling water.
“i’ve been thinking about this for years,” he began. “why we stopped talking. why i let it happen. i think… i was scared.”
“scared?” you echoed, your brows furrowing.
he nodded, his jaw tightening. “when i left for vancouver, i told myself i’d keep in touch with you. but then hockey got busy, everything got busy, and every time i thought about reaching out… i felt like i was too far removed from your life. like i didn’t belong in it anymore.”
your chest ached at his words. “quinn, you always belonged in my life. you’re the one who decided you didn’t.”
he winced, but he didn’t deny it. “i know. and i’m sorry. it wasn’t just hockey, though. i think… i was afraid you didn’t need me anymore. you seemed so happy, so independent. and me? i was just trying to keep my head above water, trying to live up to everyone’s expectations. it felt easier to let the distance grow than risk finding out i wasn’t as important to you as you were to me.”
you stared at him, your heart breaking for the boy you once knew and the man sitting in front of you now. “quinn, i thought the same thing about you. i figured you had this incredible life and i’d just be… a distraction. someone from your past you didn’t have room for anymore.”
he turned to face you fully, his blue eyes filled with regret. “you were never just someone from my past, y/n. you were… everything. you still are.”
tears pricked your eyes, but you blinked them away. “then why didn’t you fight for this? for us?”
he swallowed hard, his voice cracking as he replied, “because i didn’t think i deserved it.”
your breath hitched, and you reached out to take his hand in yours. “you deserved it. you deserved everything. i wish you’d just let me be there for you.”
“i’m trying now,” he said softly. “i don’t want to mess this up again.”
“you won’t,” you promised, your voice steady despite the lump in your throat.
he leaned in then, his movements slow and deliberate, giving you plenty of time to pull away. but you didn’t. instead, you closed the gap, your lips meeting his in a gentle, lingering kiss.
it was soft and sweet, filled with all the unspoken words and emotions you’d both kept buried for years.
when you finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin.
“is this okay?” he asked, his voice barely audible.
you smiled, your heart swelling with a mix of relief and happiness. “more than okay.”
you stayed there for a while, holding hands and sharing quiet kisses under the starry sky, as if no time had passed at all. it was as if the universe had given you a second chance, and you weren’t going to waste it.
some things were worth waiting for.
© amourquinn
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vanillarosekiss · 3 days ago
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Honeyed ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
Has anyone else been dreaming of what it would be like to have Price as your neighbour (when he's actually at home for once and not on deployment) and how HOT it would be to just end up having spontaneous sex (that isn’t really sex) with him out of the blue. Just me?
Scroll to the end for a little surprise...♡
Warnings: straight up smut guys (literally sounds like it came out of a shitty porno story, but no actual sex happens, you can imagine that!!), language, hints of restraint (no ropes or anything, just John) and edging, you getting absolutely devoured by John because he is a MUNCH... thats all I have to say unapologetically.
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The sound of dripping water echoed through through your kitchen, each droplet of water only adding to the mountain of frustration you'd managed to acquire along the way of trying to fix the sink by yourself. You sighed, sitting back, staring at the mess you'd made. Pieces of the sink that you'd removed in order to find the leak were laid all over the floor, and you had no idea where they were meant to go back. You reluctantly picked up your phone and dialled his number, knowing that you wouldn't be able to end your trials and sufferings on your own.
Ten minutes later, John Price was stood in your doorway, toolbox in hand. His eyes flicked to the sink and then back to you, lips curving into a faint smirk as he took in your worn out and annoyed look.
"Trouble in paradise?" he teased, stepping inside and moving past you to get to the kitchen.
"More like trouble in plumbing." you shot back, trying not to focus on the way his t-shirt clung to his broad shoulders. "Think you can fix it, or should I call a professional?"
His laugh was deep and warm like honey, resonating in the small space as he knelt by the sink. "Guessing I'm not professional enough for you then, love?"
You crossed your arms, watching his hands work deftly to tighten a loose pipe. The muscles flexing in his forearm made a fast flushing heat rise to your cheeks as you imagined what his hands would feel like on you.
"Got the bastard," he announced, leaning back slightly to check all was in order. Water had stopped dripping, and he wiped his hands on a rag before standing. "Should be good as new."
"Thanks," you say, hoping your voice sounded steadier than you felt.
But he didn't move to leave, instead leaning against the counter, arms crossed, his gaze steady on you. "Think I've done a good enough job to get paid, lovie."
"Oh... I- Yeah of course. How much did you want?" You stuttered a little, grabbing your purse.
"Put it down." He ordered, voice stoic and steady as ever.
"I thought you said-" You began before he cut you off.
"Come on angel, you're a smart girl. I know you are. You know what I mean. Don't pretend that you don't"
It suddenly struck you, your mind fuzzing a little at how unlikely this event had seemed to you.
Before you knew it, his hands were on your waist and he had lifted you onto the counter behind you with what seemed like no effort at all, a small squeak erupting from you in surprise.
"Tell me to stop." He whispered, lips hovering yours as he stood in between your legs, hands on your thighs.
You didn't.
Five minutes later your legs were resting on his broad shoulders, the ones you'd been ogling from the very start of that interaction, as John devoured you completely. Little lace panties discarded to the side and your hands in his hair as he lapped at your core, sucking on your clit so well that you were making noises you never thought you could.
His tongue worked you up skilfully, holding your release just out of your grasp, wanting to tease you for 'just a bit longer, pretty girl'. His hands, God those hands, that were working on your household issues earlier were now holding your thighs apart for himself as he ate you out. Your hips were convulsing upwards at every stroke of his tongue, searching for the light at the end of the tunnel. He finally entertained you after what felt like hours and helped you orgasm, holding you down as he pushed you further.
Even once you'd cummed, he wouldn't stop, wanting you to become utterly exhausted and spent underneath him. And that's exactly what happened. It's Captain John Price, of course he always gets what he wants.
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Contrary belief to what the Rolling Stones may say. Get it? You Can't Always Get What You Want? No? Someone please tell me they get it. I gotta get me a piece of this man.
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You actually scrolled? Here's an X p!link for visuals of being eaten by Price just for you!♡
p!link
(lets ignore that this is already on my tf141 p!link post…)
Tag list: @punkkture @soapisgod @slut-lmao @sebastianstans-slut @ilikeoldmen @g1rlfa1lure0 @queenoflaflames @tmartin0918 @kkloubee @goldie-221 @patricksoulmate @writingandsins @mxnee777 @caro-line19  @decaffeinateddelusionbread @poohkie90 @lovidovii @xoxoxoaspen @i-ship-stony-and-superfamily @simonrileysdarling
Please lmk if you’d like to be removed or added to the tag list, I won’t take any offence!
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martiansodas-blog · 2 days ago
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🐕
sitting on puppy arts face
"please?"
he’d been asking for this for so long, but your response was always,
“i’d crush you.”
or
“it’d be no different than how you always go down on me.”
or
“you’re the one with the upper body strength, not me.”
his hands glide across your thighs in a soothing manner. “cmonnnn. you know how strong i am. i wouldn’t let you crush me.”
your face feels tight, while his hold those rounded eyes that always get him what he wants.
fuck it.
“ok.” you mumble
you swear his ears perk up.
“what?”
“we can do it but you have to promise to tap me if it’s too much.”
he’s worn you down.
how marvelous, he thinks.
“i will. i promise.” he says with a huge smile on his face.
you swallow and scooch up his chest, his shoulders, and then finally his face.
hovering.
you feel so awkward. why do you feel awkward? this is your sweetheart! it’s not like he’s never seen you naked before. he’s just never done… this before.
he repeats the grazing motion with his hands.
the next time he speaks his tone is meek.
“you’re so soft, momma.”
it makes you smile, not that he can see it.
when art puts his mouth on you, it’s all over.
it’s not like all the other times he’s gone down on you. everything’s more intense from up here.
art doesn’t ease you into it either. he’s waited long enough, give him his treat !
pulling on the meat of your thighs to bring you as close as physically possible.
the whole lower half of his face is slippery.
you groan from deep in your throat. throwing your head back and your hair falling behind.
you squeeze your eyes shut.
the only sound besides your incessant moaning is arts tongue going 80 miles per hour.
it’s not far off from a dog slurping up water on a hot day.
his tongue is everywhere. alternating going inside, sucking on each lip, and bullying your clit. he’s not going to leave any party out, he’s a good boy !
how the fuck he’s able to fit a whole one of your lips in his mouth you have no idea. he has had lots of practice to be fair.
“fuck,” you cry and grip his boyish curls “i can’t-“
your chest is heaving. it’s so warm in your belly. it feels sweet, almost.
he moans just as loud as you. they would be, at least, if they weren’t muffled.
“please, momma,” he catches his breath, “let me have a taste of your cum. let me finish you off.” he pleads.
you lean your forehead on the cool headboard infront of you. catching your breath but never stopping the grind of your hips.
he’s trying to slurp all your juices up but some drip down his chin and neck.
he adores the feeling. it gives him goosebumps.
cool and sticky. and it smells so good, he thinks he’s high.
this is the only drug he’ll ever crave.
“my favorite treat.” he all but sings.
then art does something he hasn’t before.
at least not in front of you.
he starts wiggling his hips back in forth. just a little bit but it’s consistent and noticeable. almost like he’s wagging an imaginary tail.
“m’gonna cum.”
that’s probably arts favorite phrase in the whole world.
half of him wants to slow down and make this last longer. but the other half, the half that will end up winning, wants to be showered in cum.
he focuses solely on your clit now. he can’t help but just take a tiny.. baby nibble. it’s just so cute and bite sized !! it’s such a fun chew toy for him.
it completely shocked you and made you yelp.
that’s what makes the coil in your stomach snap.
he knew it would.
you forget how to breathe for a moment. you freeze, seemingly weightless. your whole body going limp.
you screech and are trying to get away, it’s too much. but also trying to bury him deeper because nothings ever felt this good.
the aftershocks last a long time. you crouch there with your mouth open and every hair on your body standing up.
he took a moment to stare at the aftermath. he’s mesmerized. very proud of his hard work. and he decides that’s his new favorite color.
it’s spread on your thighs, dripping down your ass.
neither of you are surprised . art is a messy eater.
without warning, art eats the cum from your weeping pussy. making you convulse and arch your back.
“uhhh!!”
he can’t help himself :(
“artie-“ you pant “too much.”
“just a little more,” he begs “this part tastes different.”
he doesn’t wait for you to respond. usually you’d scold him for this lack of manners but you weren’t about to pretend he wasn’t taking you to nirvana.
currents of electricity flow through your veins, you can visualize it. you’re not sure who’s having more fun: you or art.
when he’s done feasting, he manhandled your weak body so you’re properly laying down. he crawls up to your face. giving you puppy kisses aka big licks on your cheek. licks that coincidentally smell like you.
it breaks you out into a chuckle.
“thank you, baby” you say petting his hair
“thank you, are you kidding?”
you realize how much… everything is on his face.
“you’re messy.”
your genuine laughter is contagious.
“can you blame me?”
you shake your head.
he slowly laid his head on your naked chest. eyes already drooping.
“my babyyy,” you cooed.
he let out a faint happy noise into your skin.
“took such good care of mommy,”
“hnnnh”
“that’s right, you’re a good boy.”
you placed a peck on his forehead.
“lud you, mommy,” he mumbled, eyelids fighting to stay open. “so much…”
“aw, i love you too sweet pea.”
you gave his head scratches till he was out cold.
he fell asleep with your nipple in his mouth that night.
puppied out.
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et6rnalsunshine · 1 day ago
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࣪˖ ִ⭑ ࣪brat tamer matt
⭑ soph's note. first request!!!! there’s not enough brat tamer matt on here i need moooreee pls 😭😭 also this is a littlee longer than it was supposed to be and i didn't proofread but.. hope u enjoy!
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matt sat on the couch, scrolling on his phone lazily as you sat next to him, messing with the hem of your shirt in boredom. you sighed dramatically, beginning to complain for the third time in many minutes, glancing over at him with a pout.
"matt," you say, trying to get his attention. he looks over to you, waiting for you to speak. “do you even care that i'm dying of boredom?” you ask, leaning closer to nudge his arm.
“mmhm, im busy,” matt hummed absentmindedly as he looked back to his phone, clearly not buying into your theatrics. you huff slightly again at his refusal to pay you any mind.
"busy doing what?" you asked, not giving up.
“things. quit poutin' and go find something else to do, or sit here and stop complaining,” matt replied simply, not looking up from his phone. you huff at his words, but give in and stay silent. for a bit, at least.
a few minutes passed in relative quiet before he spoke, “can you grab me a glass of water from the kitchen?”
you glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. "you mean the kitchen that’s like, ten feet away? the one you walk through all the time?” you reply, pushing his buttons.
“yes, that one,” he replied, a flicker of annoyance slipping through his calm exterior.
you scoffed, crossing your arms as you sank further into the couch. “yeahhhh, no. i'm pretty comfy here. you can go get it.” matt’s jaw tightened at your words, beginning to grow irritated.
“it’s a simple request. just grab it for me.” his tone left almost no room for argument, but of course, you had to just rile him up even more. when you sit and blink at him with no intent to get up, he's had enough.
for a moment, matt didn’t say anything. you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, expecting him to let it slide just as he had earlier, letting you be all whiney and bratty the whole day. matt placed his phone down and shifted, resting his forearm across the back of the couch as he turned his full attention to you.
“okay,” he said quietly, his voice steady but with a sharp edge that made you freeze as he leaned in slightly. “i think we need to set some things straight,” he murmured, his voice soft but commanding. “starting with how this little attitude of yours is going to end.” his hand moved, his fingertips grazing your jaw as he tilted your head slightly toward him.
your breath hitched, and you felt a bit of nervousness bubbling to the surface. “matt, i was just—”
“no,” he interrupted as his thumb brushed against your cheek. “you’ve been running that mouth all day, sweetheart. now, you’re going to listen.” he paused, letting the weight of his words sink in, his other hand settling on your knee before he pulled back with his next words.
“on your knees,” he said softly, the command clear, his voice sending a shiver through you.
"matt, what— on my knees? no—" you spoke after a moment, caught off guard and not expecting those words to come out of his mouth.
"no?" he said, his tone challenging before he continued, "i'm not gonna ask again. you wanna act like a brat, you're gonna get treated like one. on your knees, sweetheart," he spoke, nodding his head down to the space between his legs as he man spread them. you swallowed, your defiance faltering entirely as the weight of the moment settled over you, leaving no doubt that he wasn’t giving you an option.
“matt,” you started softly, but the sharp tilt of his head silenced you instantly.
“now,” he said firmly.
slowly, you slid off the couch, your knees meeting the soft rug beneath you. matt shifted slightly to face you more directly, his expression calm but determined to put you in your place. he murmured, his voice low and smooth, “that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
you shake your head in response as you watch him begin to unzip his jeans, pulling them down, along with his boxers. you flush, eyes flickering between his face and his now hard dick you were in front of. you open your mouth to speak before matt interrupts you.
"cmon', let’s see if you can finally put that bratty mouth to some real use,” he spoke, guiding your head to his cock as your pulse raced, heat rising in your cheeks as his words sent a rush of arousal through you.
your lips touched his tip before your eyes flickered up to his. "open up," he spoke firmly as you opened wide, your mouth warm and inviting as he practically shoved his cock down your throat.
matt effortlessly shut you up as spit pooled around the corners of your parted lips, his hand guiding your head up and down on his cock as he fucked your face.
"can't run that pretty mouth of yours now, huh?" he huffs as you squeeze your eyes shut, tears pricking at your waterline. your nails held onto his thighs tightly as you tried to steady yourself. his balls slap against your chin as you gag, his tip hitting the back of your throat.
"listen to that, no complaining, no whining, 's perfect...... fuck," he mutters, his thrusts becoming uncoordinated as he becomes closer to the edge. he grunts as his pace increases, making you whine and gag against his length.
"aw, is it too much?" he mocks, continuing to fuck your face with a relentless pace. "should've thought of that when you were bein' all bratty, sweetheart," he huffs, gripping your hair as your head bobs up and down. his head tipped back as his breathing grew more ragged, the sound of your gagging, his groans, and his low, mocking praises filled the room.
"good, takin' me so well, huh? you gonna stop bein' bratty after this?" he purrs as you moan around his cock, attempting to nod your head which only makes you take him deeper. you look up at him with damp eyelashes as you whimper around him, hands still gripping his thighs.
"fuck, 'm gonna cum," he murmurs, gripping your hair harshly as his pace quickens. "you're gonna swallow it all f'me, hmm, sweetheart?" he says, although it's more of a statement than a question. you hum around his cock, the vibrations making him almost buck his hips up.
"shit," he hisses, shoving his cock down your throat even deeper as you feel him twitch inside your mouth. his movements still as his thick cum paints your throat white. you swallow it all, making him hum in approval when he pulls you off. you feel his hand come to your face and wipe the little bit of cum left on the corner of your mouth.
“good,” matt murmured, his voice low, and dripping with satisfaction. his fingers brushed over your jaw one last time before pulling back. “but i'm not done with you yet.”
you were in for a long night.
© et6rnalsunshine
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fayecreates · 3 days ago
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I Will Die Your Daughter.
Premise: uhhh totes not a self insert because my day left me a few weeks ago and im now only coming to terms with it… you and sevika have daddy issues and y’all talk about it. The reader is an errand runner for Silco around S1. Also fem reader, Sevika doesnt like men, sorry.
A/N: 100% inspired by robotxm’s edit on tiktok, please go watch it it’s the best edit ever. I’m also making this bc im tired of all Sevika fics, as beautifully constructed as they are, are all smut. also its not a crime to make stuff up so dont be mean to me… i may or may not be taking requests…
Warnings: mentions of abandonment, allusion to harmful habits/behaviors (kinda leaning towards self harm), daddy issues i guess?? Probably a bit ooc Sevika
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It was late at night, the new moon up in the sky barely allowing sight. You were tired to say the least, not only physically from all of stupid small yet tedious tasks from Silco, but also just your life. Nobody thought it was easy growing up in Zaun, at least compared to Piltover. Sure you had food, a roof over your head, and a blanket to keep you warm at night, but a part of you still felt like a desperate little kid. Dad was not around much, staying for a few days, taking some cash and then leaving to go do whatever he wanted. It sucked for sure, but it was a routine at least. Once he really left, not on some vacation but just for the fun of it, it just felt weirdly empty. Today being the five year anniversary of these untouched emotions didn’t help work go by faster either.
Being Silco’s errand-girl also meant being up for his beck and call. sleep weighed down your eyes, it was only one in the morning but it felt like six already. Staying in the little ‘home’ with all Silco’s goons was weird, it was like living with all your estranged cousins who you couldn’t tell if they hated you or not, well all but Sevika. She wasn’t the stereotypical ‘nice girl’ but staying by her for a while now wasn’t so horrible as the rest. Maybe it was trust, maybe it was some weird friendship, either way Sevika was the one and only girl you could call to for help.
Walking towards the kitchen, deciding that maybe a glass of cold water would wake you up miraculously, you saw Sevika sitting at the usually empty breakfast nook. Giving her a small nod, barely having enough energy to muster up the ghost of a smile, you walked towards to cupboards. Grabbing a shitty mug, you just get some water from the sink, sure it probably wasn’t the best for you considering Zaun, but it didn’t matter all too much. Standing at the counter, a ways away from Sevika, you take moments to sip then stare at the wall.
“Something wrong?” Sevika’s voice rang out, her voice was rough but not in an emotional way. You glanced up at the sudden question, looking at her with a semi surprised expression. You knew people didn’t care, i mean could you blame them? People down there spent their lives working to just barely survive, caring or even asking was rare. You shook your head slightly, it was a lie of course. How could anything be right? Everyday just felt like the knife dug deeper into your chest. She simply hummed in response, she didn’t buy it but she wouldn’t pry anymore.
“…he left me five years ago today.” You spoke up after a second, like a rush of adrenaline just to say something so simple. Your eyes stayed locked with the chipped paint. She glanced back to you, her expression not moving much but the movement alone showed her attention was on you.
“Some boyfriend or something?” Sevika asked, sure the statement was unclear but you had already wanted to just yell sorry and run off. “My dad.” You say, your voice hinted with a sort of apathy. “I dont know, i dont really miss him to be honest, it just sucks i guess…” You continue, it wasn’t honest, it didn’t just ‘suck’ it felt horrible. Keeping up a constant unfeeling mask felt like living in the wrong skin, you felt things so deeply but you couldn’t risk showing it.
“…i get you, dads suck.” Sevika says, snapping you out of your headspace. You looked towards her, her arm was relaxed, holding a cup of god knows what. Her expression was the same as always, but she looked at you in a way no on else bothered to try. She was simply understanding, connecting even, but it was such a strange surprise. “…they really do.” You respond, a look of almost happiness if it weren’t for the context. “You wanna talk about it? I can tell it’s a bit more than just ‘it sucks’.” Sevika says, her tone a little joking, only to keep the lighter mood.
“…its not like that was the first time he left me, he’d do it like once a week. He’s done it on some of the most important part of my life.” You explain, your body turned towards her, your hand grasping the handle of the mug, but your eyes never met her as though it would make you really understand each word. “Sometimes i wish… i wish he’d like me enough to just come back. He never wrote to me, he never dropped by, it’s like i never existed to him.” You continue, anger growing in your voice just slightly.
“I want him to just stand me, im not asking for the world!” You say, growing a bit too agitated over the long over issue. “I hate him… but i loved him too. I was always a daddy’s girl, y’know i was a tomboy, a girl who loved all the stuff he did. I dont know what i did wrong, i was just a kid. When did i just become not good enough? I got better, i stopped hurting myself, i got better grades in school, i was a good person!” You yell even if it wasn’t super loud, your tone changing from anger to just sadness and confusion. Your eyes finally met Sevika’s, she was just look at you, giving small nods when you finished talking. She didn’t even have that pitying expression everyone had when you even mentioned feeling down. You stayed silent, really realizing that you weren’t just speaking in your head.
“It’s not your fault.” Sevika said as though it were basic knowledge, not in a condescending way though. “No matter how hard you change, he’d probably still stay away.” She says, her tone was a bit comforting.
“…i know… it just pisses me off, sorry.” You apologize, you just felt bad for wasting her time on something she didnt really care about. “For what, answering the question I asked?” She asked rhetorically, putting her forearm on the counter and leaning forward. “Stop saying sorry all the time, you’re not wrong.” She reprimanded, looking at her with the same semi soft look. All you wanted to do was say ‘sorry’ again.
“…okay…” you muttered, knowing you needed to respond but not in a pathetic way. You shift your weight on your feet, leaning a bit to the side. “I won’t like and say i know how you feel, but i didn’t always like my old man either.” She says, taking a sip of her drink. “We’d fight, we’d make up, but never once did he try to leave me.” She says simply. “Ouch.” You respond, taking it as a jab to your lack of present father. “Not what i meant, I mean your dad’s a douche. No real man would leave their child like that, especially not you.” She continues, giving you almost a compliment? Your expression changed again, it was one of surprise and maybe a bit flushed.
“… i dont know how to feel better, its like everything i try fails.” You admit, your tone quiet instead of its usual projection. You take a sip of water, hoping it’ll do something for you. “It won’t feel better.” She says bluntly, standing up from her stool and starting to slowly walk around the counter. “It might feel less bad day by day, but thats if you stop avoiding it.” Sevika says placing her hand on your shoulder in an attempt of comfort. “And saying that you don’t care, when you so obviously do, is avoiding it.” She says leaning down just a bit.
You didn’t know what to say, your eyes started to tear up a bit, definitely not by choice. You let your head fall, refusing to meet Sevika’s eyes. You just started crying, it was rare, every once in a while you’d spend hours sobbing and punching till it felt fine, but this was different. It was a moment of vulnerability, you didn’t know why Sevika chose you to give a moment of her little time open. You felt guilty, you always felt guilty though. Her hand pull you closer for a small hug. It was for sure awkward, but you wrapped your arms around her waist, burying your face into her shoulder.
You cried probably a bit too much, tears stained her shirt. Either way she kept patting your back as you attempt to not make an awkward noise. Sevika didn’t care though, no matter how awkward or weird the things you did it was no big deal.
She cared, unconditionally and irrevocably.
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freyito · 2 days ago
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How about Argenti with a GN reader that gets sick easily?
(ex: crying can cause them to get sick the next day, etc.)
✭ pairing(s): argenti x gn reader
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✧ a/n: this one is really cute!! im a freak for writing my favorite goobers taking care of reader no matter the circumstances. if we couldnt tell. (GOD REACHED DOWN AND GRABBED ME BY THE THROAT AND MADE ME SICK WHICH SPURRED ME ON TO FINISH THIS FIC ((i am also fighting MAD burnout so. i apologize in advance just incase.))
✦ taglist: @fffrost, @shinysora
🗒 cw: gn reader, just fluff :3, not proofread
✎ wc: 1.7k
ꜰᴇᴀʀ ɴᴏᴛ
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Argenti is used to this. Coming home to you, cuddled up in bed voice raspy and body too warm yet too cold at the same time. Even waking up to you simply feeling miserable, tugging at his arm to get you some water. He doesn’t mind it, not one bit. He has always enjoyed taking care of you, even when you didn’t need it. He doesn’t mean to coddle you, but sometimes the honor of taking care of you overwhelms him.
However, you’ve been getting sick easier lately, and it has him worried. Rather than the usual offenders (cold weather, idiots who didn’t understand what a mask was, and many such cases), all you had been doing was… working. So, why were you so miserable when Argenti came home?
You were practically trapped in bed, every time you stood up your head started spinning. Your throat felt like hell, all scratched up and painful, making your voice deeper and gravelly. It was a constant battle between you and your blankets, one minute you’re way too hot for them, the next, you couldn’t bear to be without the blanket. Ultimately, you chose to stay wrapped up in the blanket, seeing as the shivers never stopped.
When Argenti came home, he found you, quite obviously, stuck in bed, watching some cheesy romance movie you didn’t even put on. You were in and out of consciousness, letting the streaming service auto-play movies and shows. Somewhere along your little horror marathon, the algorithm lost track of the original memo and now you were stuck with some sparkly male protagonist pining after his love interest in the silliest of ways. He kinda reminded you of Argenti. Or perhaps that’s because Argenti was standing in front of the TV, in the perfect position where he was covering the MC entirely, yet the character’s aura of sparkles framed your knight perfectly. Or maybe it was Argenti himself. It was hard to tell with your fizzled out mind.
“My love! Oh, it’s happened again,” He sighs, yet his voice sounds almost ecstatic. “Have you eaten well? Drank water? Maybe some apple juice or orange juice will help?”
He prattles on about ways to make you feel better, or at least soothe the discomfort you're in, while immediately starting on chores. He doesn’t even take off his armor before he’s throwing clothes into a laundry basket. Even then, he doesn’t take long to come back to your side after throwing the clothes in the washer. He’s got a big, loveable smile on his face as he does so, resting the back of his hand on your forehead, then drifting to your cheek.
“Would you like me to draw a bath, dear? Would that help?” His voice is oh-so-gentle. You don’t have the heart to say no, even if you took one earlier. Regardless, you don’t even get to answer before he’s off once more. You cozy up in the bed for another minute as you listen to the sounds of water running in the other room, and Argenti’s muffled humming.
As much as you hated being sick, and how often you got sick, you can’t deny that Argenti’s enthusiasm helps you a little. At least mentally. The fact that he’s always been so ready to take care of you without a word of protest has been comforting. Even with all he’s been tasked with, he never seems more proud of his work than he does with you.
He comes back in all too happy, scooping you up in his arms without another word. It’s like clockwork for him, treating you like royalty in general. He does the same even if you aren’t sick, taking his time to take care of you and pamper you in any way possible, even in the domestic ways. He would do this even before dressing his wounds if he were to come back with any. Nothing stops him.
The bathroom smells of lavender, an opened bag of epsom salt on the counter. Argenti sets you on the counter with a humble smile. He leans over the bathtub, finally taking off one of his gauntlets and dipping his hand in the water to make sure it isn't too hot. He pulls his hand out and shakes off the water, before turning back to you, holding out his hand to help you off the counter.
He begins to take off your clothes, gently and reverently. There are no lingering touches, no traces of embarrassment as he does so. Once you are naked, he presses a kiss to your forehead and ushers you into the bath. You settle in nicely, the warm water a balm against your skin. Though you were sweaty and so damn hot, it felt infinitely better. You don't know what made this bath feel so much better than the one that you took, but you simply chalked it up to Argenti’s making.
You sink deeper into the bath, til the water is up to your chin. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, the steam helping to clear your nostrils. For once it feels like you can breathe, and lord, is it heavenly. Sure, the scratch in your throat is still there, but it doesn’t feel as significantly damning as it did before. You feel yourself relax, the fuzziness in your head lessening. You can’t help but let out a groan of satisfaction as you allow the water to wash away your woes, or what it could, at least.
It was so comfy that you could practically fall asleep in the bath, running your fingers over the texture of the bottom of the bath just to keep yourself awake as you fight your own consciousness.
“May I come in?” Argenti’s voice breaks you out of your drowsiness, and you catch a glimpse of his hair through a very small crack in the door. You give him a groggy ‘yes’, and he walks back in with a clean pair of clothes for you. He sets them on the counter, before kneeling down next to you in the tub. “I changed the sheets on the bed for you, and the blanket is in the dryer…”
“Mh, thank you,” You mutter, closing your eyes as he places his hand on the top of your head.
“Can I ask what you’ve been doing lately?” His voice holds concern, head tilting to the side.
“Not much,” You shake your head, opening your eyes and looking up at him. You notice now that he has finally shed his armor, wearing nothing but a simple black t-shirt (that fits his body too well), and some sweats. “Just working…”
“I’ve noticed you were working more hours than you’re usually scheduled recently,” He hums, leaning back and taking his hand away from your head. You can’t help but chase after it for a second, sitting back up in the tub. “Perhaps you are working too hard, my dear.”
It is a possibility. Not that you’d mention it. Yes, it’s been a stressful couple of weeks at work, and you swore you had gotten through with it. You did feel like you were working a lot more, but c’mon, you got sick from anything. It couldn’t have been stress, could it? Perhaps you just ran into someone who was sick while working one of your shifts…
Argenti chuckles at your reluctance to admit it, and shakes his head. “It’s alright. I assume it can stay a mystery,” He then stands up, leaning over you once more. “Come on. I don’t want you to prune up in there.”
You groan, yet reach out for his hands, standing up and out of the tub. You’ve never felt so much grief for leaving a bath, though the water was starting to cool down. And while your throat, head, and nose feel better, you can feel the sickness fighting back. You let out an ‘ugh’, unprompted, and Argenti gives you another concerned look, before grabbing a towel and drying you down. He’s a lot quicker this time, though doesn’t neglect to show you the same amount of love as he always has done. Once you are dry, he hastily dresses you, turns around to drain the tub, then picks you up once more.
You groan, yet reach out for his hands, standing up and out of the tub. You’ve never felt so much grief for leaving a bath, though the water was starting to cool down. And while your throat, head, and nose feel better, you can feel the sickness fighting back. You let out an ‘ugh’, unprompted, and Argenti gives you another concerned look, before grabbing a towel and drying you down. He’s a lot quicker this time, though doesn’t neglect to show you the same amount of love as he always has done. Once you are dry, he hastily dresses you, turns around to drain the tub, then picks you up once more.
The bed dips next to you as Argenti climbs in, shuffling closer to you. Then, even closer, throwing his arm around you and pressing a kiss to your forehead, then, after a pause, to your nose, your cheek, then your mouth.
“Stoopppp…” You grumble, pulling your head away weakly. “You’re gonna get siiick…”
“A sacrifice I’m willing to make,” Argenti jokes, placing his hand on the back of your head and tucking it into his chest.
You two stay like that for a while, his fingers fidgeting with your hair as you fall in and out of consciousness once more, languidly stretching an arm over him like he was your teddy bear. Then your leg, to get more comfortable. He stays trapped beneath you, simply watching as you finally end up falling asleep for the upteenth time today. He himself cannot find sleep, too enraptured by the sleeping beauty in his arms, though disheveled and snotty.
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© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | discord server | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN, REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.
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five-rivers · 22 hours ago
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I would like to know more about ghost wombs in Danny phantom, I really loved the the fics about them and the implications of them. Kinda just one see a fiction of Danny being bombed by Vlad or Pandora or walk and what would happen after that.
Oh, no, my old curse coming back to haunt me. Ahhhhh take a Pandora.
.
Danny hadn't thought much about it when Pandora invited him back to her palace after they'd gotten her box and the Box Ghost squared (heh) away. He'd helped her, and she wanted to say thank you. It wasn't as if it hadn't happened before, even if it wasn't exactly common.
They'd talked for a while, over sandwiches. Pandora seemed interested in what he did as a hero, how his thermos worked, and things like that. They were, she had pointed out, doing similar things, and his thermos was remarkably like her box.
Then, they'd walked through Pandora's gardens. The hedge mazes had seemed higher than they had before, their twists and turns tighter, more frequent, more disorienting. The Labyrinth, she'd explained, responded to need. There had been a need for Danny to get past it, so it had been simpler, the magics in it that kept ghosts passing through earthbound not as strong.
After a while, they'd turned back towards the palace.
"There is something I want to show you," said Pandora, once they had left the maze. "Something important."
Danny looked up at her, confused. He'd thought they'd gotten all of the important stuff out of the way already. "Did something else get stolen?"
"Nothing like that," said Pandora. "But considering how our interests align, it is something you should see."
Danny nodded. He wondered if it was going to be something like the Cave of History in the Far Frozen.
They walked under a columned porch. Water flowed across the marble in what looked like specially cut channels.
"The Lethe," said Pandora. "Be careful, a single drop can make you forget everything."
"Everything?"
"Everything."
Danny shuddered and pulled his feet up underneath him to float instead of walking. "That sounds dangerous."
"It is," said Pandora, "but some things need to be protected by more than walls."
Hesitantly, Danny nodded. He could understand that.
They crossed into the building proper. The floor was a maze of little streams and a dais rose out of the center like a tiny mountain. Pandora flew ahead of him, towards the dais. Danny hesitated for a moment, then followed, wary of the water.
On the dais was a plinth, and on the plinth was a... It wasn't quite a box. Or, it was a box, but it wasn't cubical. It was cylindrical, with a round lid. The sides were painted in detail.
"Go ahead," said Pandora. "Look inside."
Danny glanced at her, then looked down at the box again. He reached out and touched the lid's handle, offsetting it slightly. There was a rushing sensation, as if the box had been filled with wind. Danny blocked his face with his hands and arms.
When the wind died down, he lowered them and looked around. The room was entirely different. It was small and dark and round, and there was so much ectoplasm in the air that it felt wet. Other than the glow of the ectoplasm, the only light came from an odd, crescent shaped skylight high overhead.
As he watched, the skylight waned away to nothing.
.
Outside, Pandora closed the lid of the box, making sure it had settled into it's proper place. She patted it, gently, thinking of the child inside. Before too long, he would be changed. Remade. Reborn. And then she would let him out into his new, second life.
Taking him was, admittedly, a bit of an impulse decision, but how could she not, when they were so similar? When he had come to help her? When he was so young, so unformed?
But it would take time.
She turned and left.
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livefromthedas · 2 days ago
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Surviving Purely Out Of Spite
(Also here on AAO3)
Chapter 1: Dishing Over Dishes
“All right, ready?”
Rook smiled and nodded, watching the fire light tired but kind brown eyes as Lucanis glanced her way.
“Go,” he said. The pair of them manned either side of the enormous cauldron of boiling water from the fireplace, both struggling to lift it at his command.
“There has got to be a better way to do this,” Rook teased, barely able to get the words out against the strain of such an incredibly awkward trek. Together, they looked a bit like a big, goofy crustacean, crab-walking their way from the dining room’s fireplace, back towards its little nook of a kitchen. The screaming hot pot between them kicked up steam the whole way.
“If you figure one out, let me know,” Lucanis mused. “Good - Up,” he directed, even though, in all truth, the pair of them had this nightly routine down to an art, and had for months.
It was no small feat, tipping that enormous iron cauldron into the kitchen’s wash basin, but they always managed, even after the longest days. Steam poured right back at them as water cascaded over eight people and a griffon’s worth of dirty dishes for the evening.
“I mean, you’d think a place that's able to stash things we haven’t owned in years in our quarters could at least flirt with the idea of making dishes easier.” First Rook had, to an unsettling degree of distress, found a perfect replica of the little griffon doll that she knew had gone up in flames with the same fire that had taken her parents when she was eight, sitting eerily upon the couch in her room. Within days, Lucanis had found a beloved childhood book about wyverns in his.
Dirty dishes, however? Apparently the Lighthouse thought those needed to be done the hard way.
“Ah,” Lucanis chuckled in that low purr of his, “I don’t mind this.” The glance he gave her made Rook’s heart flutter in her chest - That warm, heavily lidded flirt of his that always seemed to be reserved for late evenings and Rook’s company.
Rook flashed a lingering smile, reveling in the moment of sincere affection, before the feeling in her chest became more of an ache than a flutter.
It was still hard, weeks after having very nearly kissed the man in the pantry.
Rook still wasn’t entirely sure what had happened. One moment he had seemed so confident, so calm - As genuine as she’d yet seen him - With that same gorgeous smirk and mischievous gaze. He had leaned in for a kiss.
She had thought - had so genuinely hoped - that he had felt the same of her as she did of him. But the in the same breath, Rook had watched the weight of everything he was dealing with - from his imprisonment in the Ossuary, to the loss of Catarina, to the demon now squirming its way around his head - crash down on him so heavily she could swear he’d winced in pain. He’d apologized, and left.
It had been three days before they’d spoken again. Three days of awkward failures to meet each other’s gaze over dinner. Three days of Rook finding favor in dragging Bellara and Lace to help the Veil Jumpers in Arlathan instead of spending too much time at the Lighthouse.
Three days too many, they’d since come to agree - but just long enough, nonetheless, to make one thing very clear to Rook. Friendship with Lucanis Dellamorte was far better than nothing at all.
She loved him. She was fully aware of that now. He had so quickly become her best friend - The person easiest to talk to among their motley crew of adventurers. The person she trusted most. The one she felt safest with, against blood mages, against demons. Against gods.
And if the only way he was able to be loved was as a friend - That, she had decidedly resolutely, was how she would do it.
He stabilized her. Made her feel safe. Made her feel seen. And he seemed to relish their time together, always a little warmer in his smile, a little lighter in the weight of the world he had on his shoulders (Nevermind the demon in his head.)
And after startling the assassin with a hug after three agonizing days of silence, they had fallen quickly back into the habit of being inseparable.
As Lucanis dug into the dishes, elbow-deep in suds, Rook pulled a pair of hair ties from a pouch at her hip. The moment her own shock of long, curly hair was in a ponytail, she reached to run fingers softly through Lucanis’s endearingly overgrown shag, gathering it out of his way as well. It wasn’t lost on her that he went still as she did so, eyes fluttering closed, tension in his shoulders easing just a hair.
With as frigid as he could be about his personal space with most, Rook seemed to be the one person whose touch he deemed safe. Wherever they ventured, his presence was a close constant - a hand at the small of her back, the brush of her hand to his. She had been yanked out of the path of danger, off her feet and squarely into his arms, more times than she could count. Rook had joked that he seemed to be more aware of her surroundings than she was half the time (impressive, given Rooks years of keenly honed survival as a Veil Jumper) Always vigilant. Always close. Always the protector.
In recent weeks he’d gone from accepting that touch to actively seeking it out. It was getting harder and harder, she suspected, to forgo so much sleep. It was wearing on him, exhaustion clawing at the back of his eyes with nearly as much fervor as the demon that lurked there. Time with Rook, he had admitted, made what would have been agonizingly long nights far easier.
They’d since poured through books together. Stayed awake until all hours sharing stories of their very different lives; Lucanis with as many questions about her often solitary life as a Veil Jumper as she had about his very public existence as a Crow under the First Talon. And they always did so curled up on a couch or a chair, basking in the simple pleasure of feeling safe with their person.
Or, so Rook liked to think. He was certainly hers, at any rate. And that was good enough.
Lucanis nudged her shoulder with his own, and Rook was pulled from her bird’s nest of thoughts. She followed his nod, only to smile.
“More coffee?” Lucanis offered as Strife headed their way. He and Emmrich had been the only stragglers remaining in the hall so long after dinner. They’d been chatting over coffee, tea and pie for well over an hour. Now, the Professor lingered by the door as the elder Veil Jumper came to say his goodbyes.
“Nah, I was just about to head out,” Strife replied. Rook ducked out of the kitchen cove to give the old man a hug. They had been getting along a bit better lately - it was nice.
“Lucanis, thank you for the meal, it was fantastic. You,” he looked to Rook, holding the younger elf at arms length, only half-kidding as he barbed, “Try to stay out of trouble.”
“No promises,” Rook grinned. She looked so vexingly sly that the old elf shoved her teasingly back towards Lucanis.
“Watch that one, Dellamorte. She’s trouble.”
“Only the sort of trouble I like to get up to,” Lucanis mused so smoothly that Strife and Rook both took a second to realize what he’d said.
“Uh… huh,” Strife replied, one eyebrow raising. He looked between Rook and the assassin with a studious, critical eye.
Suddenly blushing and feeling a little too warm, Rook dove back into drying dishes… though, not without giving Lucanis a soft elbow to the ribs.
The Crow was barely stifling a smile. He was very clearly teasing.
“Right, well. Goodnight you two.”
Rook was a breath shy of chucking a sopping wet dishrag at Lucanis’s neatly pressed shirt when something snared her attention.
On their way out of the hall, heading out into the unnatural daylight of the Fade, Emmrich had placed a hand at the small of Strife’s back.
“Well, that’s new,” Lucanis deadpanned as the double doors closed behind them.
Rook, meanwhile, completely lost her shit, “What?!”
“You didn’t see that one coming?” He laughed, “Rook, they’ve been eyeballing each other for weeks. Why did you think Emmrich kept volunteering to go with us to Arlathan all last month? Because he’s interested in halla?”
“It’s Emmrich. He’s interested in everything, Lucanis. I just…” Rook pulled a face, “This is weird, right? This makes things weird.”
“Why, because he’s basically dating your dad?”
Lucanis caught a washrag with his face.
“Gaaah, yes, that,” Rook did the oddest little dance, as though trying to shake the weirdness from her bones, “And… more like grumpy uncle who’s been making sure I don’t die doing something—“
“Rookish?”
“Wow. I see how it is,” Rook joked flatly. Lucanis practically giggled like a schoolgirl.
The pair fell into a comfortable silence before long, interrupted only by the sound of dishes, crackles and pops from the fireplace, and Rook occasionally catching herself humming the tune in her head out loud. It was only once she caught Lucanis leaning on the counter behind her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention that Rook’s efforts to put away clean dishes were set aside.
“Hey,” she said quietly. He started, an almost imperceptible catch in his breath, and quickly righted his posture. Rook had a hand on his arm, “Go sit down. I’ll put on some coffee.”
Lucanis was rubbing weary eyes by the time Rook placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of him.
“Gracias.”
The more exhausted he got, the more often he stumbled out of speaking in Trade tongue, Rook knew.
With a cup of tea of her own, she manned the chair beside him, turned to face his way. She leaned back for a while, giving him time to get some caffeine in him, before nudging his shin with one foot, “I’ve barely slept in two days, and I know it’s been longer for you. How long?”
He grimaced and said nothing. He also failed to meet her eyes.
“Lucanis.”
“I don’t know, three days? Maybe?”
“Lucanis,” Rook groaned, “We talked about this. Because it was two days straight before that. And four before that. Nobody can keep this up - You have got to let yourself rest.”
“Not with Spite pushing back like he is. He’s… I don’t want to say worse. But the last 3 times you’ve caught him trying to waltz his way through the Vi’Revas? Also the last three times I’ve tried to sleep. In a row.”
“Maker’s nu— that’s all you’ve slept? In over a week? You—”
“Creador dame fierzas - Rook,” Lucanis bit. His tone came out harsher than he seemed to have intended. He winced, and sighed, “It’s a test of wills with him. He’ll get tired of it soon. He always does.”
Rook wasn’t even sure Lucanis was sold on the idea. He just sounded so, so tired.
“I know you don’t like my quarters.” Dislike was an understatement. Lucanis had inevitably had to fess up that the eerie, aquarium-walled room reminded him far too much of the Ossuary for comfort. They spent far more time in the dining hall as a result, “But I can stay here again if company would help. I could grab that book you’d—-“
“No,” Lucanis waved the idea off, “You said it yourself, you’ve barely slept in two days. And there’s no point in having both of us out of commission.”
“There’s no point in either of us being out of commission if we can help it,” Rook replied.
“I’ll be fine,” he pressed, irritation edging its way back into his tone, “I have a whole pot of coffee, fresh.” He gestured behind him before chasing off Rook’s frustrated glare with, “Which is actually pretty good, by the way.”
Rook sighed, “Well, that’s something.”
“Small victories,” Lucanis teased, “Look, as soon as Spite gets off of whatever tear he’s on, I promi—“ Lucanis had gone to stand, teetered, and reached for the table to brace himself.
“Lucanis?” Rook was quickly at his side, a hand on his back.
“Just… light headed,” he grumbled, a palm to his swimming forehead.
“Oh… my god. Lucanis.”
“I know. I know,” the Crow finally relented, “I will go lay down, all right? Mierda.”
Rook huffed a sigh, her forehead falling to his shoulder for a moment, before meeting his gaze again, “Thank you. And just… Feel free to let Spite know he’s on my shit list at the moment. You hear that, Spite?”
Lucanis grimaced against the flash of violet light in his eyes.
“Message received,” he groaned. Rook was surprised he seemed to be refusing to let Spite speak at all, “Now go to bed.”
Rook had nearly turned to do just that when Lucanis caught her hand. It was a spontaneous thing, his touch warm.
“Rook,” his tone had gone softer in a clear effort to calm down, “I’ll be fine. I’m fine.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
Exhausted and frustrated and knowing there was little she could do to sway him, Rook stepped in to give him a hug. He tensed for all of a moment before a now-familiar melt, relaxing into the contact. Rook shivered as he sighed warmly into her hair. She gave him a last little squeeze before heading for the door.
“Good night.”
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writememysticfalls · 2 days ago
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Nice Kitty | Kol Mikaelson
Summary: Kol stared up at you from the floor. His chest gleamed with sweat. “Nice kitty,” he whispered.
You and Kol are dirty rivals. A spell gives you total control over his body, so you decide to teach him a lesson.
Pairing: Kol Mikaelson x witch!reader
Genre: Suggestive, Enemies to lovers
Word count: >1k
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“Morning, princess,” Kol said, sliding into the cabin’s tiny kitchen.
He rested his hands on either side of your head, caging you in.
Kol was naked - apart from a towel draped low on his hips. He shook out his brown curls, spraying you with water.
“You're in a good mood,” you said, eyes fixed on your book.
“Yep,” Kol said. “Because that nasty spell you tried on me last night didn't work.” He booped your nose. “Maybe little Y/n’s not ready for big boy magic.”
“How do you know the spell didn't work?” you said, smirking.
You reached behind your back, and pulled out a human heart - Kol’s heart.
“What have you done to me?” Kol panted, clutching his empty chest.
You smirked. “I stole your heart. I control you now.”
You lifted the heart.
“I am sick of you calling me princess… ” you said, squeezing the heart, so Kol groaned, “and little girl…” he sank down the wall “and mamacita, which is just yuck.” Kol fell to his knees.
Kol stared up at you from the floor. He was panting like a dog, mouth open, his chest gleaming with sweat. “Nice kitty,” he whispered.
You grabbed his hair in your fist.
“If you want your heart back…” you said, twisting his hair, “you'll have to beg.”
Kol narrowed his eyes. “Never. I've been tortured before, love.”
You pulled his hair harder, till his eyes welled up in pain.
“Can I-” Kol stuttered. “Please can I have my heart back?”
You giggled, releasing him.“I'm not giving you your heart back, dumbo. I’m going tell Klaus to give me the white oak stake, or I'll crush the heart and kill you.”
You booped Kol on the nose. “But I couldn't resist. You look so pretty on your knees.”
You and Kol marched through the woods, on the way to meet Klaus.
“I get it. I'm your slave,” Kol said. “But is the outfit really necessary?”
Kol was wearing a pink tutu, a pink fluffy tiara that said “FAIRY PRINCESS”, and a matching pink wand.
“No,” you said, skipping along, holding Kol’s heart. “But you look so cute!”
Kol had had enough. He reached out to snatch the heart from you.
You refused to let go. You and Kol fell to the ground. You rolled over each other in the dirt.
“Get - off!” you shrieked. Kol’s heavy body pinned you to the ground. His hot breath tickled your face.
“Vasmatos-” you tried to say, but Kol pressed his hand over your mouth, stopping you.
You and Kol both squeezed the heart at once.
And you got the weirdest feeling.
It was like being drunk on champagne. Everything turned hazy, golden. The world felt like one hilarious joke.
You suddenly felt that you didn't want to hurt Kol. You wanted to… kiss him.
Kol looked down at you like he was thinking the same thing.
Kol pulled his hand off your mouth, and flicked your plump lips with his thumb.
“That feels funny,” you giggled. “Good funny.”
“Yeah?” Kol said softly.
Kol stuck his tongue out, and licked your pink lips. You started laughing hysterically.
You pushed Kol down onto the soft forest floor, so your body was above his.
“Ha ha,” Kol said. “Upsy daisy.”
He bit the soft skin under your jaw, sending a shiver down your spine.
You noticed Kol’s heart, discarded on the floor. You had a vague feeling that the heart was important. But that felt so distant… and Kol’s mouth was so close…
You reached out, and dug you fingers into the heart.
You and Kol were struck by a vision.
-
A teenage Kol, stretched out on his bed, asleep. The twisted sheet left little of his sun-kissed back to the imagination.
“Taya…” Kol mumbled.
He bit down on his pillow. His breaths sped up.“Taya...”
A woman appeared at the doorway, clearing her throat.
Kol scrambled to a sitting position. The sheet slipped onto the floor.
“I’m awake,” he said thickly, his muscled arms wrapped around his knees. He blushed, and red exploded over his chest and legs.
“You're late for your morning lesson,” she said, faintly smiling. “And… I’m not ‘Taya’. I'm Miss Taya, to you.”
-
“Who’s Taya?” you said, walking behind Kol as he stormed through the forest. You were carrying Kol’s heart in your bag, to avoid touching it.
Kol’s face was a painful red. “You. You got inside my head!”
You said, “Technically, I got inside your heart-”
“Shut up!” he said. “Please… don't do that again.”
Kol was trembling with shame and anger. Your brown eyes had seen deeper into his soul, into his memories, than any girlfriend’s ever had. And it terrified him.
“It's not like I enjoyed that,” you said. “The freaky magic of the heart made me… like you for a second.” You shivered.
Kol realised that they had almost arrived at the Mikaelson house. His time was running out.
“Okay,” Kol said, stopping in his tracks. “You've won. You've humiliated me.” He grabbed the tutu in one hand, and danced around in a circle, waving the wand with the other. His face fell. “Just please don't give me to Klaus.”
You stared hard at Kol. “Why are you so afraid of Klaus?”
Kol scratched the back of his head. “I can't tell you. Just trust me.”
“If you want me to help you, I need the truth,” you said.
Kol looked down. “I've never told anyone this. I don't know how.”
You waited.
Finally, Kol pulled out his heart, and dug his nails in. Both you and Kol both struck by another vision.
-
Teenage Kol, peeking through a cottage doorway.
He was clutching a thorny rose, and his brown, muscled forearms were covered in scratches.
His eyes grew wide.
In the dark room, Taya was gripping the wall, her long hair flowing over her naked body. She was breathing hard.
A naked man grabbed her body from behind, his hands on her waist.
The man’s laughing blue eyes met Kol’s for a second.
It was Klaus.
The rose crumbled in Kol’s fist.
-
You gasped lightly. “That was Taya, your teacher. The one you had a crush on. Klaus was…”
“Klaus was fucking her,” Kol said darkly. He sat on the forest floor, crushing a pebble in his fist.“A few months after that, she disappeared, like all of Klaus’s girlfriends. The bastard killed her.”
You held Kol’s hand. “I'm so sorry,” you said, gazing up at him. “You loved her.”
“I think I did,” Kol said. “You know, before Taya died, I was a nice guy. Worthy of a good girl like you,” he said, smirking. “But that night, I decided to stop loving people so easily. Trusting them.” He thumped his chest. “Enter Kol Mikaelson, world-class arsehole.”
“You're not an-” you started. You smiled. “Okay, you are an asshole. But you're not… a bad person.”
Kol placed your hand on his cheek. His chestnut eyes held yours. “You're not like me, Davina. You're good; you're beautiful. And Klaus hates things which are good and beautiful. You can't make a deal with him. He’ll destroy you.”
You stepped away from him.
“I'm sorry, Kol,” you said quietly, tears welling in your eyes. “I really liked you.”
Then, your face hardened into a mask of fury.
“Klaus Mikaelson!” you yelled, running towards the Mikaelson house. “I have your little brother’s heart. Give me the white oak stake or he'll be dead by the time I count to ten…”
Kol pounded a tree trunk with his fist in anger, again and again, until the wood crumbled under his fingers.
He had trusted you. He had let you in. And you had used him.
Kol was lying in his bed in the Mikaelson house that night, when he heard a quiet “Ow.”
How was he such a trusting idiot, despite being hurt a thousand times?
-
He laughed, sitting up. Your head was stuck halfway inside his bedroom window.
“Help me,” you said. “My hair’s stuck.”
“Hurts, doesn't it?” Kol said, massaging his head. “Having your hair nearly yanked off.”
“Let me in,” you repeated, your voice breaking. “I'm here to rescue you. And this hurts like a bitch.”
“Who taught you that word, little girl?” Kol said in mock horror. “Wash that pretty mouth of yours out with soap.”
But he gently untangled your hair and gave you his hand to climb inside.
You sat down on the bed. Kol flung himself into an armchair in the corner of his room, his bejewelled finger tapping the arm. His head lolled back on the seat.
“Where did you get that pose from? GQ?” you said, laughing into your hand.
Kol got up and sat quietly down next to you, his ears burning. “Shouldn't you be more sorry or something?” he said. “You did try to sell my body today.”
You looked down. “I am sorry. I was going to leave you with Klaus, but then I thought about your story, and… I felt bad.”
Kol lightly brushed your hair behind your ear. “Is that the only reason you came back, then? You felt guilty?”
You met Kol’s eyes. You looked perfectly serious in the way only young people can. “No. I felt… a lot of things.” You looked down. “But I can't like you that way, Kol. When I like boys that way, people get hurt.”
“I know,” Kol said. “That tends to happen to the people I like, too.” His hand nudged yours on the bed, so your little fingers were touching. “I do have a knack for falling for the wrong people, don't I?”
You scoffed. “Are you talking about Taya right now? Because I really don't think bringing up your-”
Kol silenced you with a kiss. He was surprised at how good a kisser you were. Your body melted against his without shyness. You wrapped your arms over his shoulders, pulling him closer. For a second, he was jealous of the boys who had kissed you before him.
“You're a good kisser. Should I be worried?” Kol said. He twirled a strand of your hair around his finger, possessively.
“You're a bad kisser. Should I be worried?” you said.
“Hey!” Kol said. “I have a thousand years’ experience…princess.”
“Yeesh,” you said. “You must not have done a lot of kissing in the last thousand years.”
Kol laughed. This was probably a bad decision, but it didn't feel that way.
It felt like hope.
​—
MAIN MASTERLIST
Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋
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yeomongi · 12 hours ago
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 — 𐙚
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genre : fluff ! ^^
pairing : seonghwa x you
word count : 600ish
warnings : menstruation & period pain, idk anything else
synopsis : a comforting moment between you and seonghwa as he helps you through the unbearable pain of your period cramps, showing his love through small but meaningful actions.
note : i decided to do this request as well since i really enjoyed writing my previous yeosang fluff!! also going to post a san version after this since i find it really comforting :3 this one is a bit shorter but i hope you still enjoyed! reblogs and interactions appreciated <3
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it started like it always did—sharp pains twisting through your lower abdomen, the kind that made you curl up on the couch and wonder how something so natural could be so cruel. you’d been battling these cramps all day, hoping that the painkillers you took hours ago would do their job. but they didn’t. nothing seemed to work, and now all you wanted was the comfort of seonghwa.
seonghwa had this way of making everything feel less overwhelming, like the world could spin a little slower if you were in his arms. and right now, you needed that more than anything.
you heard the front door open softly, the familiar sound of seonghwa kicking off his shoes and hanging up his coat. you tried to sit up a little, but the ache in your stomach pulled you back down.
“y/n?” his voice called out, gentle and warm, like always.
“in here,” you croaked, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself.
he appeared in the doorway, his brows furrowing the moment he saw you curled up on the couch.
“baby, what’s wrong?” he asked, crossing the room to kneel beside you.
“cramps,” you mumbled, your voice small. “they’re really bad this time.”
his expression softened with concern as he reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face.
“why didn’t you call me?”
you shrugged, not wanting to admit that you didn’t want to bother him while he was busy. seonghwa sighed, his thumb gently stroking your cheek.
“you’re never a bother, y/n. you know that, right?”
you nodded, but the way his eyes searched yours told you he wasn’t convinced.
“okay,” he said softly, standing up. “stay right here. i’ll be back in a minute.”
he disappeared into the kitchen, and you could hear the faint sounds of him rummaging around. when he returned, he was holding a glass of water and a heating pad.
“here,” he said, handing you the water first. “you need to stay hydrated.”
you took a small sip, even though you didn’t feel like it. he gently placed the heating pad on your stomach, adjusting it until it felt just right. the warmth was immediate, and you let out a soft sigh of relief.
“better?” he asked, sitting down beside you.
“a little,” you admitted.
seonghwa reached for the remote and turned on the tv, flipping through the channels until he landed on your favorite show.
“we’ll just sit here for a bit, okay?” he said, his voice calm and soothing.
you nodded, leaning into him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. his presence alone was enough to make the pain feel a little less unbearable.
as the episode played, he kept his hand on your arm, tracing light patterns with his fingers. it was such a small gesture, but it made you feel cared for in a way that words couldn’t.
“do you want me to get you anything else?” he asked after a while.
“just stay,” you whispered.
he smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.
“always.”
you stayed like that for a while, the two of you wrapped up in each other and the warmth of the moment. eventually, the heating pad and seonghwa’s presence worked together to dull the pain, and you found yourself relaxing for the first time all day.
“thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
“you don’t have to thank me,” he said softly. “i’ll always take care of you, y/n.”
and you believed him. because with seonghwa, you never had to face anything alone.
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starclancy · 1 day ago
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~Under The Stars~
PAIRING: Reader/Daisuke
CONTENTS: 🩷 - fluff
WORDCOUNT: 1094
Request status: Open (PLS)
It was a calm evening, the kind where the world felt like it was slowing down just for a moment. You and Daisuke were walking through the park, the crisp autumn air gently brushing your face as you made your way down the winding path. The sun was setting, casting soft pink and orange light over everything, and the trees above were full of leaves in shades of red and gold.
Daisuke was walking next to you, his steps relaxed, and every now and then his hand would brush against yours. You couldn’t help but smile every time it happened, a little flutter in your chest each time you felt his warmth so close to yours. You hadn’t planned to walk together today, but you were so glad it happened.
"Hey, Y/N," Daisuke’s voice broke through your thoughts, his tone low but curious. "Do you ever think about what it would be like if we could freeze time?"
You tilted your head, a little confused. “Freeze time? What do you mean?”
He shrugged slightly, looking up at the sky. "I don’t know, just... if we could pause everything for a bit. No responsibilities, no stress, just you and me. We could enjoy a moment without worrying about anything else."
You felt a warm smile spread across your face. You had always known that Daisuke had a way of saying things that made you feel special. But hearing him talk like that, so open and sincere, made your heart beat a little faster.
“I think that sounds amazing,” you said softly, “I’d like that too.”
Daisuke turned to look at you, his eyes soft, and a small smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah, me too,” he said. “But for now, let’s make the most of the time we have.”
You couldn’t help but agree. You wanted to hold on to every second with him, even if it wasn’t a frozen moment. The two of you continued walking, your hands brushing together more often as you made your way through the park. The walk was comfortable, easy—just the kind of time you enjoyed the most.
After a while, you reached a small bench by a fountain. The sound of water splashing softly filled the air, and the whole place felt peaceful. Daisuke gestured to the bench and sat down, patting the space beside him.
“Come on, let’s sit for a bit,” he said, his voice calm and inviting.
You sat beside him, your shoulders just barely touching. The evening was peaceful, and the air was cool but not uncomfortable. The soft breeze moved the leaves above, making them rustle gently, and for a moment, everything felt perfect.
Without thinking, you leaned your head against his shoulder. It just felt right. Daisuke’s presence was comforting, and you could feel the warmth from his body even through your light jacket. He didn’t say anything at first, just let you rest there.
“This is nice,” you murmured, closing your eyes for a moment and letting yourself relax into the moment.
“Yeah, it is,” Daisuke agreed quietly, his voice warm and soothing. “Sometimes I wonder if these moments are the best part of life. The simple ones.”
You lifted your head slightly to look at him. He wasn’t looking at you, his gaze focused on the sky above, but you could see the way his face softened when he spoke. There was something peaceful about him in these moments, a calmness that made everything feel okay.
“I like spending time with you, Daisuke,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
He turned to look at you, and his expression softened even more. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, it felt like the whole world around you had paused, just like he’d said earlier.
“You make everything better,” he said quietly, his voice barely above the sound of the fountain. “Honestly, I don’t think I realized how much I needed someone like you in my life until I met you.”
Your heart fluttered at his words. You’d always known Daisuke was a kind person, but hearing him say something so sincere made your chest tighten with warmth. You smiled at him, trying to hide the way your heart was racing.
“I feel the same way,” you replied. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
There was a brief pause before Daisuke’s hand reached out, gently brushing against yours. It was simple, but the touch sent a warmth through you. He didn’t say anything else at first, just let his hand rest next to yours, his fingers lightly brushing against yours.
You could feel your heartbeat pick up again, the gentle pressure of his fingers against yours making you feel like everything in the world had faded away. It was just the two of you, sitting on the bench, surrounded by the peaceful sounds of the evening.
After a moment, Daisuke turned to face you fully, his gaze soft and serious. “You’re really important to me, Y/N. More than you know.”
You felt a rush of emotions, and without thinking, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. It wasn’t anything big or dramatic, but it was enough to show him how you felt. You pulled back quickly, your cheeks warming, and you looked away for a moment, feeling shy.
Daisuke blinked in surprise, but the smile that spread across his face was the kind that made your heart skip. He let out a soft laugh, his hand gently finding yours and holding it. “You know,” he said, his voice low but playful, “I wasn’t expecting that. But I’m not complaining.”
You couldn’t help but laugh too, your hand tightening around his. “I’m glad,” you said, feeling a little braver now that he didn’t seem upset.
For a while, the two of you just sat there, holding hands, enjoying the peaceful quiet of the evening. The stars above were starting to twinkle, and the world seemed to slow down even more, as if it were letting you have this time together.
Eventually, Daisuke leaned back, his arm casually resting behind you. “I don’t think I’d want to be anywhere else right now,” he said softly, looking up at the stars.
You smiled, resting your head on his shoulder again. “Me neither.”
And as the night sky stretched out above you, filled with stars, you knew that you would remember this moment forever. Even if time couldn’t freeze, this was the kind of memory you wanted to keep close to your heart.
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lulublack90 · 2 days ago
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Prompt 29 - Frost
@wolfstarmicrofic December 29, word count 816
Previous part First part
He took a deep breath and unlocked the door at the top of the stairs that led to his flat. Flat was a generous name for it. Bedsit was probably more accurate. It was all one room, but he’d sectioned off where his bed sat with a collection of blankets he’d collected from charity shops and sewn together. He’d thought the giant picture of a grey tabby kitten on a hot pink background had been funny when he put it in the centre of the fabric divide, but now he felt ridiculous. He cringed inwardly. He could hardly hide it either. It was the first thing your eye was drawn to when you entered the place. 
He heard Sirius snort behind him. 
“Interesting decorating choices,” he said. Remus turned to look at him, but Sirius was only teasing; there was no judgment there—well, maybe a little. 
“Please, sit,” Remus told Sirius, waving his hand towards the bright green sofa he’d got off a guy from across the street who was moving out and hadn’t found anyone to buy it. It was horribly uncomfortable. Whoever had designed it clearly didn’t have a spine, or else it wouldn’t have been so bad to sit on. It did, however, fold flat into a single bed. Remus tended to drop it flat when he used it and piled his duvet and pillows behind him to lean on while he played Crash Bandicoot. He was on the lookout for a replacement, but sofas were damn expensive. 
Sirius sat down and gazed around the room, taking everything in while Remus flitted about tidying up. He’d left plates, chocolate wrappers and, to his absolute horror, a pair of socks on the coffee table. He snatched them up and threw everything in the kitchen area, bar the socks. They went in the hamper outside his minuscule bathroom. 
“What do you want to drink?” He asked, coming back to where Sirius was waiting patiently for him. “I have tea, coffee, water?” He said the last item with a smile stretching his lips, unable to keep a straight face. 
“Hmmm, actually, I’d kill for a cuppa. Black, no sugar. Please,” Sirius answered, wiggling on the sofa, trying to find a comfortable spot. Remus was a bit stunned. You didn’t find many people who drank tea like he did. It was a staple when he went out to remind everyone not to put milk in his drinks. They got it right about half the time. 
He came back with two steaming cups of tea and a plate of chocolate hobnobs. Sirius reached out and grabbed one. 
“I’m liking you more and more Remus,” Sirius beamed at him as he bit into the chocolate-oaty biscuit “Although. I’m sorry Remus, but is there something wrong with your sofa?” He complained, cracking his shoulders as he stretched his back. 
“Erm, yeah, sorry, it's shit. It was free. Here, hop up, and I’ll put it how I normally have it.” Sirius obediently got up, and Remus quickly dropped the sofa flat. He walked behind the blanket curtain and grabbed everything off his bed, making sure there weren’t any pants hidden in them, and plopped them down onto the sofa bed. He manoeuvred his pillows and duvet until he’d made a little backrest for them both. Sirius just stared at him when he was done. 
“Is this your idea of getting me into your bed?” Sirius asked, the corners of his lips twitching as he tried to hold in his laughter. Remus blushed beet-red. 
“Oh—er—no, I swear—I…” Sirius clapped him on the back and got onto the makeshift seating. He shuffled until he was comfortable and looked up at Remus expectantly. Remus didn’t know what else to do but sit down and turn the TV on.
He couldn’t remember what he’d been watching, but when he turned the DVD player on, the beginning of an episode of A Touch of Frost was playing. 
“Are you watching Frost?” 
“Er yeah, the entire box set was in the charity shop down the road for a fiver and I couldn’t pass up the bargain. I don’t have a TV licence, so I just watch DVDs…” He petered out. He didn’t know why he kept oversharing. Sirius didn’t need to know all this. “I have loads of movies and stuff if you want to pick one?” Sirius turned to him with his mouth aghast. 
“Are you mental? Don’t you dare turn Frost off,” And just to make sure Remus didn’t, Sirius snatched the remote out of his hand and put it out of his reach. Remus was slightly taken aback, but when he sat back and Sirius moved so he was pressed up against Remus, he forgot to care, and they watched a few episodes of A Touch of Frost while they drank their tea and munched their way through the biscuits.  
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lavenpop · 3 days ago
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₊˚⊹♡ “ Freezing chance ”
Day two: temperature play
Pairing: Fyodor x f !reader
Plot: When your boyfriend, Fyodor works countless hours, you never get a chance to see him. Little do you know, you’ll soon find a pleasant surprise the next morning. 
Cw: MDNI! Dom !fyodor, f !reader, temp play, clitoral stimulation, words being spoken in russian, just smut in gen
Wc: 1.6k
a/n: my favourite Russian <3 I kinda slacked off towards the end ngl, I was finishing this one shot in the middle of a restaurant lmao. Oh well, hope it’s to y’all’s liking :) 
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Having a boyfriend who was always busy working has its own disadvantages, especially if your boyfriend is basically leading a criminal organisation. It also meant that you spent many days and nights alone in your shared apartment, which is how you were left the following night. 
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You groggily opened your eyes, the sun peeking its way through the bedroom window shone over your face, the warm rays waking you up from your slumber. You had fallen asleep waiting for your boyfriend, Fyodor, to arrive back home. 
You yawned and turned your head over and looked over to Fyodor’s side of the bed. You expected for it to be still freshly made and untouched, which to your surprise, it wasn’t. The white covers and thick duvet untucked and folded over the edge of the bed. “Did Fyodor come home last night?” You wondered to yourself. 
You slowly sat up in bed and stretched your arms, groaning softly as you then scanned your eyes around the room. You saw in fact no sign of your beloved arriving back home from the busy night that he had. You were disappointed, it felt as if the two of you never spent time together as Fyodor was always busy with the Decay Of Angel. 
You pushed all your worries aside and slowly raised yourself from the edge of the bed. It must have been still quite earlier in the morning despite the sun as the sounds of birds and nature weren’t present. You softly sighed as you slowly made your way to the bathroom to freshen up, pushing open the wooden door and closing it behind you. 
After brushing your teeth and splashing your face with cool water, you felt much more rejuvenated and a little more energised. You turned the door knob as you pulled open the door and took a few steps out of the bathroom.
“Ah, good morning Милая.” 
Your eyes opened wide almost in shock when you stepped out of the bathroom to see Fyodor sitting on the edge of the bed. He seemed relatively calm, a small smile to his lips as he stared in your direction. You slowly strided over to the man and reached out your arms, wrapping them around his neck in a tight hug. 
Completely composed and not fazed at all by your strange reaction, Fyodor placed a hand on your lower back as you. “Why are you so surprised, my darling? Did you not expect me to be home so early?” Early was a bit of an overstatement, you did not expect your boyfriend to be home AT ALL.
You shook your head and nuzzled your nose against the side of Fyodor’s neck, your arms tightening around him and you whispered, “I just missed you is all…” You mumbled into him, somewhat relieved that he was home. You were simply growing tired of being unable to see him since he was always working, you knew that his job wasn’t easy, but it just felt nice to be able to see him every so often. 
A small smile appeared to Fyodor’s lips and he slowly took his hand off of your back. “I missed you too, моя любовь.” He gazed into your eyes, his violet orbs scanning the expression that wielded on your face. You tilted your head off to the side when he examined your features, you weren’t sure what he was doing, as he wasn’t saying anything. “Fedya?”  “Hm, y/n?” He watched as you slowly seated yourself on the edge of the bed beside him. His eyes traced back to your face, his eyes softening and he gazed at you, his hand ever so gently moving down onto your thigh. 
Fyodor’s just so sudden hand placement pulled a small gasp straight from your mouth as his hand remained resting on your thigh. Your eyes widened the slightest when you looked up at your beloved. The expression on your face must have been amusing because a small smile twitched Fyodor’s lips. “You look so cute when you're surprised, Милая.” He hummed, planting a soft kiss to your cheek, that kiss sending electric sparks throughout your body. ‘My, my, someone’s been missing me a little too much ~’ He slowly ran his hand up, down the inside of your thigh, his hand getting dangerously close to your core with each stroke. 
Your breath hitched as you felt the heat that brewed between your legs, your own arousal dampening the fabric of your panties, you let out a small mewl when Fyodor grazed his hand higher. “Fedya? ~” His name left your lips like a moan when you mumbled, your head becoming hazy and your eyes threatening to shut on you. 
“в чем дело, любовь моя?” Fyodor neared closer to you, his eyes piercing into yours; causing you to gasp audibly, he clicked his tongue when you shifted your body backwards. ‘Now, now, my dear…you wanted my attention, and you’ve now got it. ~” Fyodor grabbed your hand in his, his other hand supporting your waist as he slowly and ever so gently lowered your body down onto the bed, now leaning over you.
All that came from your mouth was a shuddering squeak, your eyes fixing around the room, cheeks flushed a light pink and breath stuttering. Your restless behaviour must’ve had an effect on your boyfriend, because his expression changed to something softer. He slowly guided his hand down to your hip, using his other hand to gently part your thighs. Slowly slipping a finger under the waistband of your shorts, he pulled down both your bottoms and panties at once, revealing your bare core to him and only him. 
“Fedya!” You gasped out his name and tossed back your head. Yearning for his touch was an understatement, from being distant from each other for what seemed like forever, his affection was all you needed.
A light chuckle left the man’s mouth and he tilted his head at you. “Ah, ah. Isn’t this what you wanted, моя любовь?” You weren’t given much time to decide when Fyodor leaned over you, he reached out one arm and picked up the glass of cold water that was sitting at the top of the bedside table. The ice must've melted as small little ice cubes floated and bounced around in the icy water.
Fyodor glanced at your face for a split moment before eyeing back at the glass that was in his hand. He stuck two fingers into the glass before placing it back down on the table, his eyes fell back down to between your open thighs when he dropped his hand down between them, gliding his two fingers upside your visible clit. 
The coldness of the water that laced his fingertips sent shivers down your spine. Your eyes shot wide open and you let out a hasty whimper, your back arching the slightest as he kept his fingers prodding at your puffy clit.
An obvious smirk found its way to Fyodor’s expression and he chuckled lowly. “Keep still, my dear ~” He whispered to you and grabbed hold of your waist with one hand. ‘Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be ~’ 
It wasn’t that you couldn’t keep quiet, it was because of the way he poked and prodded your abused clit and the feverish cold of the water that coated your most sensitive spot, and Fyodor noticed that. He noticed the way your body writhed against the bedsheets, and he noticed how your chest moved rapidly with each breath you took. “Милая…” He stopped stroking you and grabbed a hold of your wrist, quickly shutting you up in the meantime. He leaned his face closer to yours and whispered into your ear, ‘are you going to be good for me and keep it down, hm? ~’ 
You felt the corners of Fyodor’s hair tickle the side of your cheeks and you felt the need to nod your head. God knows what’ll happen if you disobey.  
Fyodor lifted his head and nodded with a sneering smile. He hooked his arms around your waist and dragged your body closer to his, he raised one to his mouth, coating it with his saliva before slowly tracing around the entrance of your slick heat, leaving a trail of spit around your skin as he glided around your core.  
“F-Fedya! ~” A stuttering moan escapes past your lips when you feel his fingers graze your sensitive skin. You clenched your fingers against the bedsheets and lifted your back up from the mattress. The man hasn’t even started, yet you were already squirming and your thighs were trembling. 
With his fingers inches from entering your pussy, Fyodor suddenly pulled them away, leaving your body aching for its sweet relief. “Don’t think you are getting what you want so easily, my darling ~” He purred, his hand moving to your hips, blunt nails digging into your plush skin. 
You panted out a heavy gasp and your eyebrows knitted together in angst, you reached one hand for his as Fyodor then pulled his hand out of arm's reach from you. 
He shook his head solemnly and let out a sigh mimicking pity. His hand slowly dropped from your hip and he took a few shuffles back from you. In the lowest possible tone, he whispered “Теперь, любовь моя... Я собираюсь трахать тебя, пока ты не будешь кричать только мое имя ~” 
You cocked your head to the side while gasping through every breath you took. You had no idea what Fyodor had just said. 
The man must’ve noticed your confusion because he then leaned his head towards your ear and mumbled softly, his tone seductive and almost threatening. “I will fuck your until all you can do is scream my name…  Моя дорогая ~”
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bonny-kookoo · 7 hours ago
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Bonny do you perhaps have any more thoughts about Yoongi and the little Fairy? It's such a cute story!
*cough* (perhaps some nsfw ideas cause you're just so good at writing thise type of ideas) *cough*
Hmmmmmm....
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Its interesting how his perception of you has been going through stages, ever since you both entered a relationship.
At first, he wasn't sure about you. You seemed too innocent, head high in the clouds as if you've never witnessed any wrongdoings in your life whatsoever. He couldn't figure it out in the beginning, ans he has to admiy- he was worried for a bit. Someone as stoic and stern as him, someone so.. difficult, might not be good company to you.
Then, you both got closer. The scandal happened, the photos got around, and suddenly, you were both in a relationship, out of nowhere. His view began to shift, he started to see you as someone simply soft and gentle. You weren't naive at all, but you just love being loved- and you love giving out love as well. You like to treat others how you'd like to be treated yourself.
And now, that the dust has settled and the rush has slowed, he begins to see you in a whole new light once again.
You've started pretty much staying over more and more often, becoming comfortable with both the layout of his house, and his presence in it and around you at all times. It lead to you now walking around in just a towel, feet bare as you move into his room where he's sat at a table going over some lyrics he's recently written.
You're offering two letters, but his eyes can't help but stick to your neck and bare shoulders, water still occasionally dripping from the ends of your hair while his own pushes his back for a moment- potentially to occupy his hand to not reach out to you instead.
And then you dare to lean towards him to try and catch his gaze, and action that was supposed to be playful- but the way his eyes snap up at you with clear intent makes it obvious that he's thinking about less than innocent thoughts.
And you're not sure what it is- but you feel bold, especially these days after spending more and more time with him. So you move to sit on his lap, legs over his as the towel unravels- but you're not shy. He's got a way with words and offering them in a way that convinces you of their honesty. And these past few days, you've never felt so.. loved.
Wanted.
So when his hands move over your skin, you're not nervous- but rather excited, especially when he leans in to kiss your shimmering skin. He can tell that you're comfortable, and the fact alone fuels his confidence. He admits that he's developed feelings for you that are definite love- but also desire.
"Yoongi?" You giggle a little as he nips at your neck, and the sound of your voice makes him smile. "Yoongi!" You laugh now, his hands pushing your bare body closer by your backside.
"I love how you say my name." He purrs towards you, intoxicated by your scent.
"How do I say it?" You wonder, arms on his shoulders as you let him enjoy his time with you this close.
"Hm.." he thinks out loud. "..I don't know. It's unique to you." He simply says, leaning back in his chair to have you slip a little- taking the chance to grind on his very obvious desire.
Its then that he moves to wipe down the side of his table, papers and stationary clattering to the floor as he sits you down there instead, kisses heated. He doesn't care about the mess right now- all he cares about is what kind of a mess he can make out of you.
And a mess out of you he makes- with his face between your legs first, preparing you for what's to come before he moves on to the main course, bodies never parting as he indulges himself in simple desire, finally finding what he's been searching for all along;
His one, true, love.
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