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deonsx · 7 months

Note

Request again! I’m so sorry for requesting fast. You’re the only one who accepts my request.

Can you do a s/o that really powerful? Like have a really strong ability yet she keep it secret, and after 2 years of dating they finally found out after they got attacked by enemy organization? Fyodor, Jouno and Tecchou?

Sorry, it’s too detail. I just can’t hold my happiness after you accepted my request! You just lightens my entire day! <3

This message made me very happy! I haven't been able to write for a long time because I've been busy. I will be online as much as I can and feel free to share your requests with me!

Feat: Dazai, Fyodor, Jouno, Tecchou

A S/o Who Surprises Them With Her Power

Summary: Since you couldn't control your ability since you were little, it's been hurting people and now it's time to use it

Dazai Osamu

It was an ordinary day, until the agency was attacked by the port mafia. Under normal circumstances, you don't have to worry because the agency can handle this on its own or you can provide some help from time to time, but they are really so small that they cannot be felt

But suddenly everything changed, the whole team went to different areas and tasks on different calls and you were currently handling some file work at the agency with your boyfriend. "Bella bella, look at your luck, there are only two of us left!!"

You rolled your eyes at his affectionate speech, a quick explosion shook the agency as you laughed, "What's going on!?" You asked as you ran away from the shaking building. When you finally landed on the street, Port Mafia's men surrounded you. Dazai's ability was useless right now, so what were we supposed to do?

You thought maybe we could get away, but you heard a gunshot and saw your boyfriend get shot in the arm as he pulled to protect you. “Damn!” Osamu whimpered in pain, it's happening again, someone gets hurt whether you use that ability or not, You forced yourself to focus.. I think it was finally time for you to use that ability. The ground suddenly started shaking and everything started shaking like a big earthquake. "What's going on? We should notify the boss!" The voices of the men across the street filled your ears, "We are retreating!" But no, you couldn't let them escape, especially when they injured the man you loved most, you tried to control your strength and caused a huge crack to open in the ground. All the sounds were the men's screams

When everything was over, you looked at your boyfriend, but your eyes were trembling, it meant a lot to you that he was hurt. "Y/o you.." the brunette looked at you with his eyes, ignoring the bullet in his arm. "I-I really didn't mean for it to happen like this.." your boyfriend's serious face quickly softened and His hand caressed your hair, "Shh, everything is over.." he placed kisses on your hair and said that this is what you have been afraid of all this time "I would never blame you, my beloved"

Fyodor Dostoyevski

As usual, you were at the computer desk and writing a lot of reports, but your boyfriend still hadn't returned home, you felt a slight fear, you knew how strong the man was, but where was he right now?

Out of curiosity, you left him calls on the phone, but since there was no response, he quickly became worried, but you remained cool and decided to leave the house and go to work. As you started to approach the workplace with your car, you saw that the building was on fire. You panicked, stopped the car right there and quickly got out

You quickly examined the building and walked around it. When you reached the dead end, you heard the sound of pointing a gun behind you. "So it's you? Our target was your boyfriend, but you wouldn't be a good reward?" Looking at the men next to you they laughed at each other and took steps towards you your head pushed you to do the first thing that came to your mind and you quickly summoned your ability

The surrounding buildings shook rapidly and covered the street behind which was their escape area. You couldn't control your strength when you were nervous, you quickly picked up a large piece from the ground and threw it on the men and everywhere turned into dust and smoke.. as the voices became quieter, you slowly knelt down and tried to catch your breath in the dusty air

There was a sound of walking behind the smoke and fog. You tried to gather yourself against the enemy, but you saw a familiar face. "Fyodor..?" you called out to him with your light voice "What happened here..you were supposed to be at home s/o" fyodor did not hide his surprise at the unexpected event "I-I was just worried.." fyodor increased his steps towards you and knelt down and put his hand on your chin "How long have you been hiding from me.. .Why are you hiding my love?”

"I didn't want you to see me like that, I can't even control myself” Those light purple eyes narrowed and finally closed while taking a deep breath "I understand.. you must be tired, let's go home, dear”

Jouno Saigiku

The two of you were finally having a leisurely breakfast at a cafe. It wasn't easy to convince him because he kept saying "We have to work", "We have work to do, we can't take a break", "We can't relax", but eventually you convinced him and you were having a comfortable breakfast with him and there was a beautiful happiness on his face. "You're so happy... all we do is run away from work"

"You're whining all the time, enjoy the moment, jouno..." You muttered to him while he was eating his food by himself. While you were both eating your meals, there was an explosion from the next building, your office building, and the whole cafe shook. "What is this!?" Jouno shouted as he quickly stood up, you both fled the cafe and ran towards the explosion at work

You looked at the building that turned into a battlefield and you both looked at each other and ran into the building. The fog was making it difficult to see around you as you covered your nose due to the smoke. When you came across the corpses of the people working with you inside, you looked at your boyfriend in fear. "They.." Jouno spoke without letting the frustration out. "We have to find the boss! We don't have time!"

You probably ran towards the locked door, but neither of you could open the door due to your efforts. "Jouno! blood!" you said blood coming from under the door, as your boyfriend smelled the blood a voice was heard from behind "I think someone lost their direction" you turned your head towards the male voice "S/o! stay behind me!" Your boyfriend spoke as he drew his sword defensively towards the man

The enemy in front of you quickly took his hand to the metal gun and sabotaged your boyfriend's gun. "It's such a shame to be looked down upon.." you brought your hand up to the man as his steps approached you and quickly threw them back to save yourself and your boyfriend from the situation. The man quickly ran away from the flying table coming towards him from you. "Wow! "I didn't know, look, my fun is going to get even bigger" your boyfriend paused for a moment in confusion but then quickly overpowered him while his mind wandered

When all the events stopped, you and Jouno were in front of the collapsed building. "Why did you feel the need to hide it from me, s/o?" your silence was eerie but understandable to him "I would have supported you if you had told me..please don't let this happen again"

Tecchou Suehiro

It was a tiring day. When you woke up, your boyfriend was not in your bed. You realized that he was doing his usual training with the sound of breathing coming from the living room. You lifted your quilt, leaned against the door of the living room with your cotton nightgown, and looked at your boyfriend doing push-ups

You watched his half-naked body move up and down. The dirty thoughts that came to your mind quickly went away and you let your voice reach his ear. "Who is this handsome man? And he is in my house, am I in a dream?" Tecchou slowly stopped and crossed his legs, turning to you and giggling, "hahh, it's a really fresh morning" he smiled at you, making the serious expression on his face disappeargf

You had breakfast together and left the house and your boyfriend decided to walk you instead of driving "ahhhh I hate this sports stuff!" tecchou was continuing on his way ignoring you. When you heard the building next to you being combed with guns, a serious look appeared on both of your faces, "s/o go around that side! We have to protect the innocent!"

You both separated to the sides and you used your strength to push a pregnant woman away from the rock that came towards her. While doing this, you felt someone running towards you from behind and you quickly turned around and activated your power. The ground quickly split open and the person who came disappeared in an instant

When it was all over you saw your boyfriend running to you yelling "s/o! are you okay!? how did this crack in the floor form?" he asked you looking confused and kneeling down he waited for an answer from you the serious expression on his face scared you "It's just..while I wanted to protect.." tecchou's face followed you around slightly and when he took you under his cloak you saw the serious expression on my face looking at you with low soft eyes, He left a long kiss on her head, "Darling, no one should know about this but us, I will protect you”

Enjoy!

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fineghkst · 5 months

Text

How Lucien acts around his mate

a/n: It’s been a while since I wrote anything so I’m posting this one before I give up. I will try to post more next week so feel free to send requests!

warnings: fluff; kinda suggestive; not proofread; english is not my first language so let me know if you find any mistakes

At the moment he finds out

Lucien felt the bond the first time he saw his mate. He was truly surprised, even shocked to be honest. Lucien didn’t expected to have a mate after what happened to Jesminda, he was actually afraid of having one and end up putting your life at risk by being connected to him. Lucien would be ecstatic and happy, but at the same time couldn’t help but fear.

How he acts?

He would be completely open about it and would probably just split it out as soon he has the opportunity. Lucien just wants to be with his mate and knows how important is to keep a clear and sincere dialogue. He really values honesty, especially when it comes about the bond.

Lucien is not the only one affected by it and even if you didn’t feel it yet, he doesn’t want to left you in the dark.

Will he tell anyone?

As I said before, Lucien doesn’t keep the bond as a secret. He won’t scream it to the whole world (since it’s not something that belongs only to him but also to his mate) but I think he would share it with his close friends (Jurian, Vassa and maybe Feyre) and also with Eris.

In short, he won’t try to hide it but in respect to his mate, he will kept it low until you’re comfortable enough to tell other people.

When his mate feels the bond

Lucien will definitely be insecure, he was opened about the subject since the beginning but once you feel the bond too he’s too scared you will reject him. I think he always would be around you, but if you rather not having his company he will give you all the space needed.

When his mate accepts the bond

Lucien got used to the feeling of rejection and somehow already waiting for it. Once his mate accepted the bond, agreeing to spend the rest of your life with him, Lucien was truly surprised and extremely happy, a type of happiness he thought he would never be able to feel.

That was the first time the light inherited from Helion reveled itself. He felt a joy that made the power overflow through his veins.

He won’t leave your side (and your bed).

Things he loves to do with his mate

Definitely traveling. Once the matebond was officialized Lucien just wanted to enjoy every second with you and above all, the freedom you both had. He didn’t want to be rooted in a court for a while and neither did you. So you both dedicate your free time on travels to other cuts and to the human lands, even those beyond the continent.

Lucien doesn’t actually enjoy having to wear a disguise to deceive humans, but there was nothing better in the world than knowing every piece of the world next to his favorite person.

Does he often gets jealous?

Is something rare to happen, but sometimes the matebond makes him a little possessive. When someone shamelessly hits on you, Lucien sassy personality would definitely show up (all I have to say is: poor guy who thought it would be a good idea to flirt with Lucien Vanserra’s mate.

Favorite body part

Your neck. Lucien loves to kiss your neck and to buy you jewels that enhance your skin. He also loves the way you react when he give small kisses or when he decided to use his hands as your necklace.

PDA

HE LOVES IT. Lucien loves to be feeling your skin against him so he doesn’t care if you are in public or not, he just wants to feel your skin against his.

How often he says “I love you?”

At the beginning it was harder for him to say the 3 little words, Lucien thought somehow he would scare you away once he said it, so he rather demonstrate with attitudes.

You were the first to say you loved him and once you did, Lucien realized how stupid he was being and started to say how much he loves you every day.

Protectiveness

Lucien been through a lot and because of that, he’s always scared something bad will happen to you. I don’t think he would be the overprotective type but would insist that you learn to defend yourself, supporting you to start training with the Valkyries (and also become one of them).

Random bonus

When it comes to you Lucien is always open to any kind of conversation, no matter how difficult it is. He told you everything that happened in his past without censorship (you were the first person he felt completely safe for that).

He loves to hear you talk and always encourages you to always tell him when someone bothers you, setting your boundaries. Lucien becomes your best friend, not only your mate.

He’s also very open to try anything new on bed. So if you’re curious about something, Lucien is definitely down for it.

#acotar x reader #lucien vanserra x reader #lucien x reader #lucien headcanons #lucien vanserra #lucien x you #lucien x y/n #lucien vanserra x you #acotar headcanons

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sweetdreamsbuck · 2 years

Text

enraptured

beefy lumberjack!bucky x f!reader (lumby and bunny au)

w.c: fucking long i'm so sorry i have no control (8k)

warnings: SMUT, angst/mention of Bucky's past, oral (f rec), p in v, dom+needy!bucky (this is lumby we are talking ab), fluff, he's so in love that it's actually rude and you might die

summary: Bucky's never been so scared of a feeling in his life. there are too many what if's– too many fears bubbling deep within the parts of him left broken and hollow, untouched for far too long. but he never envisioned finding you– and he's entirely too impatient; entirely too certain no one's ever been more infatuated with something than how he feels for you.

a/n: the long overdo lumby and bunny's first time. i'm so nervous to share this with you and i rewrote this about 3 times lmao. not proofread, all mistakes are my own. i hope you enjoy and please feel free to let me know what you think. tumblr did not want me posting this apparently, please read it lol xo

𝐢 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤. 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢

The last few months have been bliss, to put it bluntly.

As the ground awoke from the lasting bite of winter, so have you. His laugh, his voice, his scent, his eyes– god those fucking eyes.

Every day has been something new and exciting; your sweet boy has been nothing short of perfect in the little while you’ve gotten to know him.

Endearing, charming, attentive– but there was something burning under those layers of gleaming eyes and rosy pink cheeks; under his breathless giggles and groaned utterances of his shy ‘come on bun… you’re makin’ me go all silly’.

It wasn’t your fault he looked so pretty when he blushed.

You could feel it in his stare, in the way his hands started holding your curves with a bit more need– even apart from those few intense nights spent on his couch.

His touch had been something that hadn’t shied away from letting you know just where he wanted to be; holding you between his palms was where he felt he fit best.

The force his body used to chop heavy stumps day after day took a lot out of him– years of strain strenuous on his mind, on his limbs. Bucky’s hands only knew rough wind and a death grip; until he met just how soft you could feel under them, that was.

Now they caressed with a featherlight air, molding perfectly around the dips and swell of you. Bucky liked having his hands on you– he knew he just needed to touch you. But there was something off.

Almost as if he was afraid of placing them on you– a hesitancy you couldn’t quite name.

Running gentle tingles along the length of your spine, tracing circles and shy patterns into the secrecy of your sides, his hands began to relax for the first time in years. His lips would sear fire across every inch of skin they discovered, the plump pillows teasing your throat and the span of your shoulders with nervous breaths whispered.

If the shivers and soft whines you graced him with from just his recent discovery of weightlessness were this heavenly– fuck.

He’s fucked.

How’s he meant to contain all his desires– all the urges festering torturously in the pits of his stomach? He’d never be able to stay away once he knew what it was like to let himself go.

What if you felt the same way she did?

While his mouth caressed you, his hands followed. Ghosting over each trail and trace of his tongue, goosebumps spreading across your skin like sparks in a flame.

It was perfect. You’d never known being wanted could feel so right.

As you’d sink further into his chest, hands gripping the back of his neck while he tugged at your thighs to straddle him, he’d shut down. Meeting your movements for a moment, a low moan sounding deep in the depths of his throat as you rolled your hips, pulling at you desperately with a jolt of his core before he realized what he was doing.

Gasps of air and a shaky Bucky would act, anchoring his hands at your waist and slowing his lips gently up the side of your jaw. Chaste, teasing, a soft brush of ‘you’re so perfect bun,’ mumbled against your mouth before cuddling beside you on the couch, turning on a movie to cut through the tense air.

He wanted to take this slow– as slow as you’d let him. The sharp daggers embedded into his heart still left their sting, echoes of her words, 'You’re a fucking hermit. No one wants a man who can’t function in public. It’s embarrassing, really. I don’t want to live in the woods, let alone with you.'

'Let alone with you.'

He still hears it. He still feels it. True and bold, ringing loudly in every shielded touch on your back and hesitant kiss pressed against your temple.

'And you’re so clingy. My god. I need my own space, Bucky. You say you can’t breathe in the city and yet you manage to suffocate me here.'

He’s well over her. Hasn’t had a feeling toward that woman since she broke his heart. But the words left their boom, and with you– he’d never be able to stomach it. What if you felt the same way?

But fuck– he was going to combust. Bucky was certain of it. It was all he's been able to think about, to breathe about the last few weeks.

He felt his nerves taunting him with every moment he found himself in your presence, craving the need to know you deeper; to hold your palm, to name the hairs on the back of your neck, hell– to study the skin of your knees.

It might only be several weeks, but he knows. It’s love. He can’t remember the feeling ever being this scalding; the desire to be with someone every second of the day, the need to wrap himself around them and never let go– he loves you.

Bucky knew from the moment you stuffed your hands into his jacket that he needed you to cling to him like that forever.

Your touch is all consuming, a swell and tide he can’t help but long for. So good, so fucking good. His stomach wraps itself in tight knots thinking of how much he craves it.

He’s in love with you. Bucky wants to take this slow, and your accidental self-deprecating joke about how no one’s ever wanted to love you before on that amazing first date was not something he took lightly. But he feels the way you reach for him, the way you cling to him and softly whisper for more.

It’s that same nagging he feels pinching at his spine, too.

You’re both entirely too impatient.

And Bucky’s going to burst.

He wants to give you everything. To inhale you, to make you crave him as deeply as he’s addicted to you, to have you give yourself over to him wholly– but he can’t stop her words from haunting him.

There was a wavering hesitancy behind every brush of his hands, a sheltered sigh in each press of his lips against yours, until tonight.

•••

He asked you to dress nice, that it was a surprise– a date he’d been planning all week. Bucky knew you both loved spoiling those you cared for with nice things, with lavish gifts and surprises worthy of their heart. But he also knew– a bit smugly– that if he were to dress in his nicest button-down, arrange the rooms of his cabin with soft candles and the aroma of a delicious dinner that he cooked, you’d leap right out of your soles with delight.

Seeing you light up made everything seem so clear– the harsh noises bouncing around his head would cease, save for the loud thumping of his heart sounding soaringly in his ears. And in the safety of his own home, he’d have you all for himself.

But Bucky wasn’t prepared for the ground to freeze over the way it did when he opened the door to you.

A harsh huff of air leaves his lips, frozen solid at the base his tongue, incessant on the struggle of not letting it find its way back in. Unblinking eyes cradle every inch of your satin-adorned figure with a reverence unknown to you– unknown to anyone that wasn’t on the receiving end of it at this exact moment.

The ice spreads further, mouth frozen in place but his jaw loose as ever, itching to etch itself within your skin. The soft glow emanating from the way you look basking in the moonlight, peaking its way through the sea of thick evergreens littered behind you was a sight he’d never forget. Ever.

Not even a thermal camera could capture the radiance of what he feels, staring at you.

A deep black fabric clings a little too perfectly to your figure, the pudge of your stomach and dip of your hip highlighted beneath its silky sheen. A strappy pair of heels and a glossy stain on your lip sit prettily, complimenting the dress so simply– his throat is on fire.

Something too terribly similar to that of coarse ash and cinnamon line his airways, a roaring heat blazing pitifully in the base of his throat.

Dry, wordless, breathless.

And his brain can’t find the power to extinguish the feeling.

Struggling to think of anything but the way he can not handle being near you without his body betraying his fears; he stops fighting it. He needs you; to love you and suffocate you– and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t let you know it.

Letting his eyes sweep across every inch of you, painting the form of the angel standing before him with the smoke of an arctic storm behind his gaze, his pulse quickens with a renewed purpose. Heat pounds through his veins, straight to the very tips of his fingers and toes.

He’s so helplessly in love with you.

“You gonna let me in, Buck?” you laugh.

Oh.

His hand was gripped around the door since he’d opened it, so tightly you could've sworn the wood cracked a bit under his hold. Opening it all the way while his neck ran crimson, nodding furiously down at you as he ignores the splinters of wood falling from his fist.

Brushing a hand across his chest, your fingers toy with a button of his shirt before looking up at him through your lashes. “You, look incredible. Holy shit,” you smooth up his neck, pulling him down to press a short kiss to the side of his mouth before pushing past him, “so handsome.” He shudders at your voice, the spreading blush growing across his complexion at the flutter of your eager eyes and scurrying fingers.

Inebriation– amorous, hazardous, oh so beside himself in anguish with the sight in front of him; the fabric swaying with the taunt of your thighs, your perfume tickling past his nose and making his brain fuzzy. “Bunny…” he whispers.

He’s never been more sure of anything in his life.

“Yeah, Bucky?” turning to meet his eye, his air consumes you.

The weight of his compulsion happens in a surge, hand grabbing for your neck, the other squeezing around your hip. Propelled by your scent, by your intoxicating sting, crashing his towering frame into your softness as desperate lips meld against yours. His warm tongue invades your mouth, hungrily exploring with a new blaze, soft moans pressed against you as you melt into him. Decadent cologne tints your senses, sandalwood and spice seeping into every last pore of your skin as he sinks his claim deep within you.

His hand moves lower, grasping at your ass and pressing your hips against his, a deep chuckle sounding in his chest as he feels your hands begin to claw at him.

You’re nothing like her.

The desperation in each of your rushed embraces and heavy breaths confirms the shock with his sudden urge, the power and force of his movements quenching a drought you didn’t know was there. But this is only a small chip at the ice of who he really is, and he can’t wait to let himself go.

This new intensity in which he reached for you told you he wasn’t planning on letting you go anytime soon.

You need more.

More of him, more of whatever it was he’s been hiding deep behind every breath and winded stroke of his knuckles against your cheek.

He sucks at your lip, biting and toying with you until you mewl and pull him back in, smoothing your hands around the back of his head and into his soft locks.

Time seems to cease when his hand cups your jaw and slants his soft mouth against yours, tilting your head delicately with a purposeful need. Teeth nip at your throat, lips soothing the ache, humming behind your ear, “M’sorry,” a low laugh, rich with disbelief. “I can’t even begin to tell you how gorgeous you are,” fixated on the spot just below your jaw, savoring your sigh. “We’d be here for a while if I tried.”

He doesn't voice it, but you hear him loud and clear: we have all night, bunny.

You grab his hair, needing him closer, heating up under his gravelly tone. His hands roam your back, clinging to the silky fabric sewn around you. “My goodness. This dress….”

Bucky feels it, the hardness growing against your thigh.

Your damn thighs.

Unashamedly, he nudges his nose along the shell of your ear. “Let’s go eat, pretty girl. Can't seem to control myself around ya anymore…” admission never felt so easy, his sheepish smirk something gluttonous. “Been cooking all afternoon. Promised you a nice evening, didn’t I?” He pulls away sweeping his hunger over you, unbridled lust burning every inch of you. A shiver rumbles deep in your chest under his gaze, cold fingers dancing up your back before brushing down your arms, linking his hand with yours.

“You’re all mine for the rest of the night,” he brings your fingers to meet his eager lips, brushing your knuckles against him. Awe slips through his kisses, a softly muttered confession spilled to the veins of your hand, “Can’t believe you’re here with me right now.”

The scent of earthy tomatoes and warm bread carries you both over to the kitchen, Bucky's thumb brushing over your knuckles as you take in the sight of his table: decorated with a gorgeous bouquet of roses, a few candles, and two perfectly plated meals sitting closely to one another.

“What do you mean?” you question breathlessly, oregano and garlic filling your nostrils.

He pulls out a chair for you, waiting for you to sit before sauntering over to open a bottle of wine. A glimmer of cynicism flickers across his features, a short smile falsely placed. His tongue sweeps over his lip before sucking his bottom lip between his teeth.

He looks at you with a telling shake of his head, light of just how stunned he finds himself apparent while grabbing your wine glass and filling it, “Someone like you doesn’t just come walking into my life– anyone’s life, actually.” He sets your glass in front of you, picking up his own to fill. “Don’t think anyone on earth understands what it’s like getting to know you, to be with you while you walk around…” he tapers off, adoration apparent in the lusty blues of his eyes sweeping over you, “shit– looking like you do. Having you want to be here in my home...dressing up nice for me. It's a lot. I'm not used to it."

'I'm not used to feeling wanted.'

And god do you want him.

He grabs his glass and holds it up to your wide and waiting eyes, nodding for you to raise yours to toast. “To the most perfect person I’ve ever met. And for being here with me”

You shake your head, speechless and bashfully clinking your glass against his. “Such a smooth talker, Bucky.”

A giggle slips past your tongue, nervously swishing the red liquid around the glass before bringing it to your lips.

He hums, eyebrow quirking up at your dismissal. “Don’t need to be one when it comes to you. You make feeling things… painfully easy. But so difficult to concentrate. Yeah,” he nods to himself, basking in the chill of your wide eyes flitting across his face, “so fucking difficult.”

You preen under his husky admittance, a warmth spreading through your core. “I know the feeling,” a sheepish chirp. He squints his eyes at you, taking a sip of his wine. “But you're wrong, you know. No one who’s anything like you goes around inviting me over and cooking me a meal.”

He timidly smirks at that, the pink stain you love tainting his cheeks. “Such a shame. Guess that’s my problem to fix then, huh?” he shrugs, pulling his chair to sit next to you, the frames kissing one another.

He tries not to observe like a hawk– he really does. Opening his mouth to say something, anything, so he doesn't make a babbling fool of himself. But he can't help it.

Those words.

Anxious feelings creep back in, following your every move as you scoop a forkful of pasta, nerves accelerating past a scream before he can stop himself, “I know you like Italian so I thought I’d make some pasta. It was ma’s recipe and uh, I love it but I haven’t had someone worth making it for in a long time and I hope it’s ok because now that I think about it, I haven’t really coo–” a deep moan cuts him off, your eyes shutting in appreciation as the taste of warm pepper and fresh garlic invades your tastebuds.

“Gosh Bucky, this is delicious. Mmm, your mom is a genius. This is incredible,” you scoop another bite into your mouth, his nerves dissipating with every word and soft moan of praise.

Fuck– he’s not making it out of tonight alive.

“I believe I cooked this for you, not my mother,” he chides, a bit shaky but just as playful as ever.

Your eyes skim up past his broad frame, watching his shoulders expand as he nervously exhales. It's perfect, really; the way he needs you to know how special this is to him, how good it makes him feel being here with you. The spread of your lips is inevitable, a blinding smile curling inside the high rounds of your cheeks. The joy buzzing across your face rapids down his spine in swift waves, your knee brushing against his as the point of your shoe meets his calf under the table.

The smile grants him reprieve, the air filtering through his chest somewhat normally, grinning so boyishly as you grab your glass, finishing it all in one gracious gulp. “Well then, just gonna have to send my compliments to the chef. How would he like my gratitude?”

Your foot travels up the inside of his leg, your bodies acutely more awake than when you first sat down.

“However you’d like. As long as it’s from you,” his hand smoothes across your leg, fingers dancing past your knee, slipping under the creamy fabric of your dress. “I’m sure we can work something out….” Bucky's lips bow to meet your shoulder, a lull brushing effortlessly against your warm skin and moving up your throat. “But I’m gonna need you to eat that whole plate. Can’t have you growing weak on me,” he hums against your ear, pressing a quick promise to your pulse.

Dinner continued on like that– with desires of something even tangier than the zest of parmesan or the basil he decorated his sauce with. Whispered taunts and giggles against the ear of the other, wandering fingers and teasing hands itching to explore.

Bucky was right– feeling things had been painfully easy. Easy, but so beyond your willpower to try and focus on anything half the time; it was exciting. To feel any and every little thing all at once.

Tonight, you needed him to know how you’ve been feeling– all the greedy thoughts and cries you’ve been hiding away in each chase of his lips and slow grind of your hips. But this quickening darkness in his eyes, in the fervor of his hands, in the rasp of his voice– he was feeling it too. If not just as much, more.

You love him.

His hand never left your thigh throughout dinner, stroking tenderly. Pressing his calloused fingertips into you, kneading and tracing circles into the skin he had yet to get a look at.

His meal was finished long before yours, antsy and desperate to be near you, to touch you. And god, that neck. The scent of your skin has been choking him all night, he needs to memorize it, to drown in it.

Bucky’s hand snakes up your back, tracing the soft divots at the top of your spine as you rambled on about work. Nodding every so often at a particular point you’d make, intently and actively trying to focus on your words; on what Clarence did to make you so mad, on how your boss jipped you of your time off; but falling victim to the shape of your lips, to the cute frustration in your forehead, the strength behind the arch of your brow.

He couldn’t think of a moment that made more sense than this– being here with you, listening to your voice fill him in on the bits of your day he missed out on.

To hear about your day, your worries, the things that made you smile, your successes and failures– it was all he wanted. Terribly so; his fingers ached.

Bucky wanted this. So much– to love you with everything he had.

It happened before you could realize, his hand gliding up and up, slithering with a gentle scratch at your sensitive flesh until his knuckle ghosted against your center. A thin whine leaves your throat, your legs clamping around him. His fingers still, trapped hot and excited between your soft thighs.

And that’s when your sweet boy finally snaps. “You make me crazy, bunny,” his dark eyes lock on yours, sliding the hand wrapped around the back of your neck to encircle your thigh, urging you to rest on the spread of his legs.

Your thighs willingly part, resting against his wall of muscle he calls a leg, his hand free and steeping to explore the rest of you. “I can’t control my thoughts anymore. You’re all I think about. Day and night. You, you, you.” His hand inches slowly, the satin pooling around his arm as he travels higher and higher, fingers erupting prickles of excitement along your skin.

Nudging his nose against yours, his lips meet your cheek, eyes fluttering in a torturous surrender. “My sweet girl.”

Wounded with desire, an agonizing fever mouths his raspy heat in declarations along the curves of your face. “You,” pressed to the corner of your mouth.

“You”, trailing along your jaw.

“You”, bitten against your pulse.

“Bucky,” you breathe out, grasping his broad shoulders between your palms.

A ravenous moan surges through him, inhaling the length of your neck, trembling as your legs open wider to his touch, drunk and emboldened from the way your body listens to him.

He knew you’d be such a good girl for him.

“I gotta touch you, bun,” he growls. “I gotta have you,” his arm slinks around your back to pull you to rest across his lap. His hand stays under your dress, toying with the lace keeping you from him.

Lips play at your collarbone, a rough finger stroking along the wet gusset of your panty. “Do you know what you do to me?” a husky plea twirls around the base of your neck, scratching at your skin. Bucky nips across your shoulder, pulling the strap of your dress between his teeth and down your arm.

Goosebumps spread under his breath, his stubble branding his urgency into even the most ordinary parts of you.

“Please Bucky,” you whine, locking your fingers in the thick tendrils of hair along his scalp.

Such a good girl for him.

He shivers as your nails send volts of sweet pain past every nerve, moaning shakily into the smooth satin around your chest. You squirm under the vibration, under the tickle of the finger tracing along your clothed folds, moving your hips to beg him to press harder.

But he stills.

His eyes stay closed, heavy breathing filling the silence of the room. You breathe against his forehead, soothing your fingers through his hair. “Bucky?”

His head shakes against you, his mouth returning to your skin while wrapping you up in his arms, standing from the table, “Not here, bun. Absolutely not on a damn kitchen chair.”

Arms cling to his broad back, wrapping your legs around him as he makes haste towards his bedroom. His lips never leave you, tasting the column of your throat, expertly making his way through the cabin without ever looking up.

He steps through his door, the room dark, illuminated only by the light peering through his window.

Laying you gently in the center of his large bed, he moves to switch on the lamp in the corner. It only helps bare a wash of color privy to his sight, a warm radiance adding to the allure of the mesmeric beauty he can't wait to lose himself to. His eyes spare a glimpse, unable to withstand the temptation of your song, of that sweet enticement any longer.

Fuck. He's never seen something more beautiful.

Heels kick at each other, crazed motions to flip off his shoes, his eyes distracting him with the promise of that thigh peeking its canvas out of your dress, of the shape of your body mocking his inability to do one simple thing without needing to devour you.

Shoes get flung somewhere on his floor and Bucky can't help but look at you– can't help but allow the ache in his stomach, the throbbing between his thighs to stir and boil so uncomfortably.

His bunny, sitting so perfectly where he left you.

His heart stammers in his chest, kneeling on the bed before cupping his hand around your throat, sliding up the side of your neck. Watching the rise and fall of your chest, your erratic breathing; the strap of your dress right as he pulled it; a hedonic sheen of need glazing over your skin inviting him to drown, to sink even further into depths he no longer can fight to stay afloat in. It's rapturous.

Bucky feels his insides shaking, screaming at the way your pulse feels under his hand, how you lean into the strength of his palm wrapped around you with such zeal. It's addictive. How you clearly want this, his touch, him.

He explores further, his thumb brushing over your jaw, moving to trace the outline of your lips. You press against his thumb, soothing the twitch in the pad of his finger, rubbing your cheek against his palm.

Your lips send a trickle of pleasure down his arm, the darkness swimming in his eyes to siphon his greed and need hurdling through the room. Leaning back, nimble fingers clutch around his wrists to pull him with you.

Bucky cages his forearms around your head, nosing down your body with an appetite of awe in his eyes. He shifts, hands sliding down your curves before bunching at the bottom of your dress. Your legs part, helping him lift the fabric as he pushes it up your thighs.

There’s a nervous tremble in his hands, that hesitancy you know all too well seeping in the passion of his intent. His eyes meet yours and plead, hands freezing reluctantly. That same cynicism from earlier twinkles behind his gaze, a sad smile tugging at his cheek.

“Bucky? What’s wrong?” you grab his hands in yours, sitting up to focus on his face. “Did I do something? Do you want to stop?"

His eyes widen, his hands immediately grasping your forearms. “Never bun, you could never. Fuck, no I don't. Far from it– I’m uh, I’m just scared.” His hand grabs a piece of your hair that fell out of place, toying with it to distract himself. "So scared."

“Scared? Of what baby?” his eyes soften at your tone, at the way you didn't think twice of the term of endearment sliding so swiftly off the roll of your tongue.

“Of how perfect this feels. You just…you’re so…you make me...” he groans, closing his eyes and running a hand over his face. “What if you get tired of me? What if I annoy you? What if you hate this? What if I can't be–”

“I love you,” you don’t even hesitate. Pulling his cheeks between your palms. His eyes widen, breath stolen deep in his chest. “Bucky. I love you. And I could never hate this.”

His stare is molten, white-hot adoration unblinking with stupefied shock written all over his features.

“You just cooked me an entire meal in a cabin you built with your own damn hands. And you're worried I can get tired of you?” you brush a hand through his hair, curling up against his thigh. “You are perfect, James. Everything about you.”

Bucky swears he's listening, he sees your lips continuing to move, saying something about choking the life out anyone who told him otherwise, but he can't seem to hear anything. The sparkle of your confession pouring loudly through every bit of him– and truly, it's all he needed.

You love him.

His smile grows wide, wider than you've ever seen it, eyes glistening with a dark vibrance as his tune changes. “You love me?” he squeezes his hands around your hips, pushing you onto your back.

You meet the soft mattress with a giggle, nodding your head as he smashes his mouth against yours.

“Me? You love me?” he laughs, in between his vicious attack against your cheeks. “I love you so much,” his lips trail down your jaw, “I love you,” to your collarbone, “so much. So so much.”

His hands slip down the fabric of your dress, finding the trim and pushing it upwards. Your hands wrap around his wrists, eyes locking as you join him in slowly tugging it up your body.

Murmurs of his love swim around you, whether he's aware of them or not. Soft whispers, bold declarations pour from his lips with an air you could feel was undeniably his– undeniably the true and honest breath of the Bucky you love.

His eyes never leave yours, letting go of the fabric to intertwine your hands, sliding them to rest above your head. A kiss is pressed against each palm as he drops them above you, carefully carding the satin up and dragging it over your head.

It gets stuck, your arms tangled in the straps he worked so hard to not have this happen, but all you can do is laugh.

Laugh– at the frustrated sigh that leaves his mouth, from the way he's still completely dressed, from the thrill of getting to share this with him. Love.

And god, if it wasn't pure unadulterated bliss.

That boyish giggle soon finds its way up your stomach, kisses pressing against you as he flings the dress behind him dramatically.

Bucky cants back on his heels, eyes roaming over every inch of your figure with this new honesty of his, goosebumps erupting under his intensity. “My god…” he swallows, unsuccessfully. The air strangles him, exploding in his throat as he tries to mutter anything but your name.

“You're not real,” his fingers graze down your body, over your peaked nipples, razzing the sensitive tips with faint circles, trailing torturously under the swell of your breasts. Your whines and gasps fuel his exploration, dragging them down the softness of your middle, the branded marks littering your skin that he starves to memorize.

His touch scorches against you with such famished rage, worshipping you until your insecurities melt away– until he's tainting your skin with only his fervent breath of possession.

Grasping your thighs, he can't help but moan, lifting a leg to his lips. “I love you,” he breathes, kissing down your soft flesh, stroking at your calf. “And the heels are staying on tonight,” he chuckles against your ankle.

That mouth can't seem to keep away from your skin, thirsty, caressing its way back up to you and showering your other leg with attention.

Teeth and tongue drag along your inner thigh, his hand toying with the band of your panties. “But these are coming off.”

A bite squeezes the pudge of your hip, gently soothing the sting with his tongue before grasping the lace between his teeth, pulling it down the swell of your thighs. “Yes, Bucky."

And oh god, he whimpers– melting under the way his name sounds, so weighted but breathless, pulled so high and and desperately from your chest. Excited hands quickly remove the lace from the rest of you, a tear of fabric stretching through the air, but you can't find the need to care.

Such a good fucking girl for him.

“Need to make you mine, bun. Gotta taste you,” he lays himself down between your thighs, wrapping his hands around your legs and placing them over his shoulders. “So fucking beautiful, got the prettiest pussy,” he whines, taking in the mesmerizing view of your glistening folds, watching your slick drip from you.

"All fucking mine," he hums.

“Keep your eyes on me bun, need you to watch me,” his low voice growls, his hands locking themselves tightly around you.

Kisses pepper up your thigh, his nose inhaling your scent with a shudder in his shoulders. So fucking good. Placing a kiss to your clit, his eyes watch, hungry to catch every move of yours intently. Your body caves at the sensation, a thin gasp pulling from the pit of your stomach, the sound all he needs to hear before licking a fat long stripe through your folds.

Oh it's so soft, so strong, your hips jerk under his warm tongue, the thick stroke of it nestling itself through you and brushing over your clit. “So fuckin’ sweet,” he moans, sucking more of you into his mouth.

He pulls you closer, licking obscenely around your cunt before locking his lips around your clit. He moans feeling your hands tug against his hair, scratching at his scalp while he laves hurried strokes at your throbbing nub.

Jolts of pleasure rip down your spine, his tongue flattening and pushing against you, unrelenting motions sending you higher and higher. “So good Bucky, fuck keep doing that,” you cry, his mouth pulses ferociously around you as he continues to bask in pleasure.

Your head falls back, curses leaving your lips as his tongue curls, fists so tightly drawn your nails leave indents, his warm muscle stroking you just right. You've always known how attentive he was but fuck– Bucky is a really fast learner, picking up quickly on just how to play with you.

A hand slaps firmly against your thigh, a yelp leaving your lips as he grunts against you. Your eyes flicker down, a smug look of disapproval on his face as he teasingly licks through your folds. “Eyes on me, bun.”

An apology rolls of your tongue, squirming under his wanton stare– that devilish mouth.

Bucky pulls you back into his warm, wet hold, devouring you with a lewd possessiveness you didn’t know could exist. Pressing his own hips into the mattress, moaning and trying to soothe the throb of watching you writhe under his tongue.

Look at you, making a mess all for him. He can't get enough of you like this.

Your hips roll against his ministrations, trying to meet the immense pleasure his salacious kisses send through you. He mumbles, heady and deep 'such a good fucking girl for me, that's it bun' the vibrations severing heat through your core, your toes curling and your hands fisting tightly against his pillows.

“You’re so good Bucky fuck, feels so good,” you cry out, breathless and thin causing another delicious moan from his mouth to grace your core. Your heels dig into his shoulders, pricking and scratching his back with every lap of his tongue. His cock throbs achingly against the mattress, your whines and sweet cries pushing him to a hardness he didn't know was possible.

God you have no idea how fucking good that makes him feel.

He shakes his head from side to side, his tongue lashing around your aching clit, the muscles in your stomach tensing as you feel a powerful release approaching. He shoves a finger into you, curling and finding the spot that makes your eyes roll.

“I’m gonna cum Buck— fuck don’t stop,” you wail.

As if I'd ever do something as stupid as that, bun. A throaty chuckle pulses around your clit, a scream bubbling up the length of your throat and filling the room.

He adds another finger, stroking them against you as the muscles in your stomach unravel, piercing waves of warm pleasure crashing around you.

That tongue never ceases, his mouth drinking up every last drop, moaning and basking in the praise your cries and words grant him. You feel him smirk against you, your hands trying to pull his head away but he just keeps going, his lips sucking you further and further as you arch your back higher.

Eyebrows lift, the thin rims of his ceruleans sending you a smug glare as you continue to spew incoherent cries about how good it feels, how you can’t take anymore, oh Bucky fuck, please don’t stop.

Bucky's in heaven– fervid lust moaned against you, torrid sirens of pure rapture searing through you as he worships you insatiably between his lips. He can’t stop now– now that he knows how sweet you taste, how good you sound begging for him.

It's all your fault, bun.

Your legs tremble around him, walls clenching around his tortuous fingers, sending miles of avid pleasure straight to the throb of his dick with every jab of your heels. His mouth lifts from you, kissing softly against your thigh as he removes his hand, bringing his two fingers up to his eager lips.

He moans, licking up all your essence dripping around his palm. “That was incredible, bunny. Never felt anything like that…” he clutches his shirt, neglecting to finish unbuttoning it all the way before ripping it off of him completely.

He never felt anything like that? Smug, evil, perfectly devilish bastard.

Spit mixed with your juices coats his stubble, a pretty sheen glistening on the lower half of his face, somehow making him appear even more irresistible. His tongue flicks around his mouth, licking up more of you. Now that he knows your taste, he's never letting it go.

He tugs at his belt, removing it in one fluid motion before discarding it across the room. Popping the button of his slacks, pulling the zipper down and kicking them off his legs.

“So fucking good for me,” he groans to himself, watching your limbs quake, gripping his aching bulge with a heavy fist.

You tremble under his gaze, the lasting intensity of the two fierce orgasms he pulled from you tingling deliciously, preening at the godlike body on display before you. Your eyes sweep over every inch of warm, corded, muscle; thick and perfectly carved.

Your eyes alone could be his ruin– and he wouldn't want it any other way. Destroy him, break him, ruin him– just never stop looking at him.

Watching you, he takes in the softness of your face, the debauched and drunk glaze of your eyes. Even with the wrecked look muddling your vision, he's never felt so cherished by someone's stare in his life.

And he sees where they're burning to glimpse at.

Your eyes land between his thighs and even with briefs on, he’s fucking huge.

A shy chuckle brews in his stomach as your eyes widen, his hands shakily moving to discard his sticky briefs. Bucky’s thick, throbbing cock slaps against his stomach, wet and glistening, the tip red and leaking with proof of his arousal.

Holy shit– there’s no way he’s going to fit.

“Oh I’ll fit, bun.”

Shit, you said that out loud.

Earnest joy grips his face, boring his eyes into yours before positioning himself over you. A hand cradles your cheek, pulling himself in for a kiss while rubbing circles into your thigh.

Lips drape over yours, lamented fervor lacing the cavern of your mouth. Tongue and teeth clash together, his eagerness tracing your lips to memory with the plea of more.

He could kiss you forever if you'd let him.

The lasting taste of you on his tongue is tangy, filthy, your hands moving to the back of his neck and itching for more. “I love you,” he whispers, pressing his nose against yours.

You smile against his cheek, biting him softly before rolling yourself up against his cock, “I love you, Bucky.” His hips jolt forward, a dark chuckle rumbling in his throat.

God– the things you make him wanna do.

His hand grabs his cock, swiping it through your folds before nudging your sensitive clit, rubbing your wetness around him.

Pressing the tip of himself against you, he moves in teasing circles, lips sprawling across your chest. The way your body responds to his every move is addictive, it's not his fault you're such a good girl for him.

The tongue flicking against your nipple matches the motion of his cock, a breathy whimper etching itself to the side of his neck. "Bucky, please. No more teasing."

Sucking you into his mouth he moans, giving in to the flames raining down his spine as your fingers claw at his skin. They move to tangle with his hair, arching yourself further in his rousing tongue.

Can't help myself, bun, it's all your fault.

Tugging at your other nipple, rolling it sharply to distract you before kneading the entirety of your breast, squeezing with such need, you feel it in the tips of your toes.

Stroking his cock once, twice, before lining up with your entrance, Bucky pushes in slowly. Torturously, making you feel every ridge and throbbing vein of his dick. Rolling his hips, groaning as he feeds you inch by inch, his cock sending shocks straight through you.

"Almost there bun, doin' so good for me. Just a bit more," he moans, your cunt tighter than anything he's felt before. Kisses dance along your temple, distracting you from the agonizing stretch and himself from forcing his hips down.

Because fuck, he knows once he's in there's no coming out.

"Takin' me so well, sweet girl. I love you," a gasp leaves both of your lips, his hips kissing yours as he bottoms out, jittery in the feeling of your wet heat around him.

Heavy breaths fill the air, the stretch of his cock between your silken walls so overwhelming, you've never felt so full in your life.

“Please Bucky,” you whine, pressing your mouth against his jaw, prodding for a desperate kiss. “Fuck me, please,” you whine, wiggling your hips against him. He trembles, pulling out and thrusting back into you.

His hips lunge, slowly and forcefully, a moderate pace that's measured and precise. Bucky can't go any faster, not yet, it'll be over entirely too soon– he needs to memorize this. The feel of your wet walls finally wrapped around him is too good, sending his mind into overdrive. The slow pound of his hips steadily grants you both miserable bouts of maddening pleasure. “You feel so fucking good,” he moans, biting into your shoulder to ground himself.

Your hands claw at his back, nails digging into the bulging muscles as his heavy body propels his thrusts. He lifts your legs around his waist, driving his weight behind his strokes and pressing you into his mattress.

"Fit so perfect around me, feels incredible, so tight." He's right– it's so good. So fucking good you could scream.

You do.

Your nails pierce him, skin rippling and burning under your hold, wails of pleasure fluttering past his ears and encouraging him further. His chest constrains you, pushing down on you with such force, pining you under all his weight as he clutches the pillows.

Forehead resting against yours, he watches your eyes roll to the back of your head in ecstasy. "That's right bun, feels so good, doesn't it?"

He needs to hear more, needs to feel you ripping him piece by piece, until all he can do is give you everything you need.

The need to tear you apart; to submerge you in every ounce of desperation he breathes; to have you completely unravel around him, wrecked and clinging to him.

He wants to give you everything. He lifts up, looking down at his cock driving in and out of you, the stretch of your walls around his girth perfect with each snap of his hips. Bucky's head falls back, moaning at the lewd sounds his cock makes spearing into your wet heat.

It's so good, so so good, he needs to stay like this forever.

He untangles your legs from around him, lifting them up and around his arms, the force of his hips punching a spot so deep, your eyes roll back, the muscles in your stomach wrapping around each other with a sharp inhale.

"Bucky, baby I'm gonna cum," you wail, a sound so desperate, so wanton, it echoes vivaciously around the room, wrapping your cunt tighter around Bucky's dick.

"That's it bun, look at you. Sound so fucking good taking me. Fuck, you're chokin' me. Wish you could feel how good you are," he praises, each utterance met with a rough, punctuated stroke. You feel incredible, he's never gonna leave.

Bucky’s balls slap against the skin of your ass, the sound mixing with the salacious suck of your pussy and cries of pleasure. "Bucky, s'good. Right there baby don't stop," you moan.

He grasps your wrists and pins them above you, pressing you down with all of his strength into the mattress. His hips continue their painfully slow thrusts, every throb and twitch of his cock ingrained in the pulsating quiver of your walls.

"Fuck bunny, that's it, cum for me, be my good girl and cum," his teeth suck at your neck, branding bruises of passion and wells of pleasure to pool deep within your stomach. The tight winding of your muscles snap, crazed and pounding pleasure erupting through you.

"I love you, I love you so much," he groans, the pulsing and clench of your walls around him almost too much to handle.

He lifts your thighs higher, bending you in half.

"My good girl, so good for me. No one makes me feel like this," he barks, pushing you through the throes of your orgasm with a hasty jerk of his hips.

"M'yours Bucky," you wail, walls fluttering desperately around him, torrential swells of pleasure prickling every nerve of your body.

“Say it again,” he growls, hips stuttering for a moment.

“I’m yours, all yours Bucky,” you plead. He latches his mouth around your nipple, flicking and sucking it sharply between his teeth.

“Again,” a roaring moan rips through him. Bucky’s eyes pierce straight through you, wrapping themselves around you as he feels your heart thump viciously under him.

“Only yours,” your nails rake down his back, the sting urging him to bounce his hips harder against you. Your hands dig into the globes of his ass, thighs wrapping themselves higher up around his waist. “Please, Bucky. Please oh fuck,” your cries grow louder, hips desperate to meet his with every harsh thrust.

Bucky drops your legs, your weak limbs pliant and shaking in his hold. A strong arm lifts under your hips, plunging himself into you so deep, deeper and deeper until he has to remind you to breathe. His thighs start to shake, the grip your cunt has on his cock strangling him so firmly he's whining. "Fuck bun, so good for me, so good," he cries.

The sound of skin slapping and lewd squelching bellows in the room, moans and words of praise permeating every inch of Bucky's cabin. His hold forces you to feel every last inch of him, your hips meeting his with all the energy you can muster.

"Oh fuck– so fucking perfect for me, all mine," he growls, pounding his hips into you so meticulously, so deep you feel him in your chest. "Need one more bun, need to feel you one more time, please."

His hand dances down your skin, meeting your swollen clit with a harsh flick of his wrist. Oh shit it feels so good, too much Bucky too fucking good.

Your walls spasm uncontrollably, squeezing him so tightly he can't breathe, but fuck– it's heaven.

Don't stop please don't ever stop bounces around the room– was that your words or his? Your body arches higher and higher, another shattering orgasm bursting through you. Your walls scream around him, the wet unrelenting clench choking him so tightly he swears he sees stars across your skin.

"I love you," he moans, unable to control the aching sob of his dick any longer. His hips quiver, his high raging through you in thick, hot white ropes of his spend. Whimpers leave his lips as you milk him dry, cum dripping and ripped from him with every last stutter and weak move of his hips. Bucky collapses on top of you, still hard, deep inside you.

Your hands card through his hair, holding him closely to the swell of your chest. His body melts against you, shaky breaths tickling your skin with every trace of your fingers against his scalp.

"I love you," you whisper, "and I plan on it for a long time, as long as you'll let me."

Watery blue eyes peer up at you, his skin sticky, but clinging to yours so tightly for the first time. Tingling with a rosy tint, bashful and so safe under your stare, he's never felt words so profound in his life.

He's never felt so wanted.

You lull his head back down, softly sweeping over the lines of his face, sloping your fingers down the curves of his neck.

A whimper of content sounds softly from his lips, preening under your touch and squeezing himself tighter around you. And for the first time, he lets himself feel it.

Sleep taunts him so sweetly, the love he feels infused in the reverent tremble of your fingers, saturating him so deeply is enough to drag him under.

"All yours, Bucky," you sigh, softly planting your lips along his hairline.

Oh.

Oh yeah. He's fucked.

#bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x you

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thisismeracing · 9 months

Note

omgg finally congrats for 1k millie so happy for you 🥳🤩 srsly guys just follow her for your daily dose of vitamin mick lol 🤗

Uhmm anw just because we haven't seen him for a while can i req Mick + dissapear + angst? 😶‍🌫️ thankyou

Dissapear | MS47

⸺ the one where Mick is ghosted (or where he falls for an online girl and she disappears - because maybe she's closer than he thinks) ✓ mentions of ghosting, reader has a nickname (peach).

⁕ one word, a thousand stories blurb night (closed) ⁕ my masterlist and my taglist

It started with a wrong number. Lewis had passed him the cellphone of what was supposed to be the Merc main mechanic because the German had lost it somehow. However, when Mick texted asking about what time they would meet to do sim work, he discovered it was the wrong number.

That didn't stop them from talking while he waited for the right number and then for Patrick, the mechanic, to show up. He discovered that the number belonged to a girl, and that was about it. She was fun to talk to, and the time flew by him. When he said goodbye and went to work he didn't think they would talk again, but life doesn't always go as planned, and after finishing Sim work that night he was exhausted but couldn't seem to sleep. He asked her a random question, praying for her to be awake or for his text not to disturb her night.

The thing was, Mick was feeling lonely. Yes, he did have friends, yes he did have fans, and he had everyone and everything he wanted, but somehow he felt like something was missing.

And during the six months he spent talking with Peach -the cute nickname he gave her after discovering her favorite fruit was peach, Mick felt seen. He felt free to be who he was and to share the most random thoughts that passed through his mind without being afraid of judgment.

When they beat the six months mark he started to be more open about how he wanted to meet her in person. To which Peach would always find an excuse or change the subject. The truth was, Yn was afraid of meeting him, she was afraid he wouldn't like her the way he liked him, and she was so close, closer than he thought. What would happen once Mick discovered his online friend worked with him? What would happen if he thought she wasn't as pretty as he pictured her to be?

"Peach, please, answer me" "It's ok, we don't have to meet, I'm cool with just talking" "Just please don't leave me on read, I really like you" "I like talking to you" "Peach?" "Don't disappear, I'm worried. Give me a signal."

And just like that she stopped answering him. Trapped in her own fears. Tasting how bittersweet love could be. And forever wondering "What if?" because what if Mick liked her in person too?

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Thank you, nonny!!! <3 I tried something reeeeally new on this piece, and I let my imagination run wild for a second, so I hope it's not that crazy, and I hope you like it *mwah* don't forget to reblog and comment, guys. Love yall

#ms47 #requests #op: blurbs #one word a thousand stories blurb night #mick schumacher #mick schumacher imagines #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher angst #mick schumacher blurb #f1 angst #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fandom #millie writes

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impossible-rat-babies · 11 days

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15 lines of dialogue

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

i got tagged by @lilas! ty friend! im gonna tag (sorry for possible double tagging): @thevikingwoman, @hythlodaes, @lavampira, @consulaaris, @gefiltefished, @scionshtola, @starrypawz and anyone else!

a lot of these are from unfinished wips w/o context, im so sorry

1. “Nay, I should have spoken my mind soon after arriving Slitherbough. Mistaken as you were to my nature upon us reuniting, I would not so easily cast aside that which you beheld.” They pause, a bitter smile coming to their lips. “A brilliant soul, I have been called before— nomenclature befitting Hydaelyn’s Chosen. And yet it is not Her light which eats away at me now.”

2. “I care in the loneliness that stood before me in the place beyond the stars. How it looked down at me and I wondered how I had not yet memorized its face. How it asked me if this would be the last time I would gaze upon its face, and if the ache between my ribs would leave me.”

3. Eyrie pauses, worrying their lip. “Pity—pity and sorrow ‘twas what I felt most keenly. Not truly alive, but never allowed to die. A most vile fate for a once great wyrm of the first brood.”

4. “Keeping yourself busy are you?” Alisiae asks, shutting the door behind her. They hold up the book idly, a sigh escaping their lips.

“T’was Krile’s idea. A measure put in place should my vision stagnate at this state, or deteriorate further.”

5. “I know, Alisaie.” They whisper softly, reaching out again to take her hands. Tinged with barely there warmth and stiff fingers as their hold her hands tight. “I know I am dying. I can feel it—beneath my chest, next to my heart. ‘Tis so very dark and cold there.”

“Then why?” She asks, voice tender in her throat. Fingers tensing in their gentle hold. “Why keep telling us it is going to be okay?”

“I would not have us give into grief.” They reply.

“Tis for the dead we grieve, not for the living. With the ache in my chest comes fear, but I would not give up hope. I would not see sorrow rob us of what time we have left. I would not see you mourn just yet.”

6. “Tis easy to peer from the outside in and question why your grandfather gave his life unto a people so fit to squabble and worry naught of any greater threat than that beyond their own borders. Your anger was not unfounded, Alisaie.”

“Still…I should have known better. What would grandfather have had to say?”

Eyrie grins, inclining their head towards her. “Oh something important I would imagine—he was oft given to providing sage advice…if asked or not.”

7. They look up at the sky stretching so far above—the distant twinkling of the stars.

“Ignorant I was to the horrors that would follow. All of my many long years in the wood had made me blind. To what one had to endure—what one would be asked to do; what I have done to my fellow man. There came a time when I stopped and looked back to see myself very far from the intentions that first compelled my feet to walk forward. And there would be no returning.”

8. “I can storm the tower, Y’shtola. ‘Tis simply…”

They rub their hands together, eyes narrowing.

“I do not trust my hands. Alphinaud tended to some of my hurts, but I was more afraid of his touch. Afraid of my own hands should he have found a bruise too tender or raw; what horrors a simple touch would invite into my head. If i had grabbed his wrist in my terror and broken it…how could I forgive myself for that? For hurting him?”

9. They pause, letting the words sink in as the boy deflates, working his lips in ill disguised frustration.

“Alphinaud.” They break the heavy silence looming above them. “I am not a sword to point at the enemies of Eorzea, or the Scions. I am not a soldier to be ordered about—told of my singular duty and thus committed to the cause without fear. Without despair or anxiety. Standing as a shield before the plight of a helpless world, begging for a hero to lead her to a new path. There is resentment there, Alphinaud—I will not lie. I love Eorzea.”

#im only doing 9 bc im running out of wips #but ty for the tag i appreciate it ^^#eyrie doesn't talk a lot but they are very verbose when they do #oc: eyrie kisne #ffxiv

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bijoutarot · 7 months

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Friends With Benefits

What is their next move?

Pick an image 💕

Left to right *

Image 1

Your friends with benefits situation has been a casual yet emotional rollercoaster. This person treats this connection like it is light and free yet emotionally they are locked in. They want to play house with you without having the what-are-we-doing-conversation. This person has a deep love for you but they are reluctant to express their love. You are getting impatient with this connection because it has reached a plateau. You are ready for it all with the right person. You want this person to be more active and take initiative. You are growing impatient. You are tempted to move on because this is not going anywhere. Their next move is to stay silent. They are afraid of regretting the decision if they commit.

Image 2

Your friends with benefits situation moved very fast. You guys hooked up right away and hit it off. Things felt so natural and without pressure. You two love spending time with one another. This connection has been the easiest thing. No stress. No drama. I see that you two share a love of being on the fast lane. It was easy to choose one another. This feels like something you don’t have to think about. You guys are spontaneous. This is the type of person that is more than a friend but not serious enough for a huge intro when introducing them to your friends. As holidays approach it will bring you guys to the question you are both avoiding. What are we doing? Do we want to take this connection to the next level? You are both avoiding this talk because of the fear that it will somehow ruin the fun.

Image 3

This friends with benefits has been going on for a number of years. For some of you it has been 6. This is a solid connection. You guys go back to each other when there is an awkward in between time when you are single. One of you is a runner. Whenever something gets too hard or when a conversation gets to emotional they withdraw. Sometimes they walk away and return like nothing happens. What keeps you two invested in one another is the trauma you both have in common. There are situations throughout the years that brought you closer but never a commitment. The next move is going to be an ultimatum. Move with me, let’s be together or I will go alone.

Image 4

This friends with benefits situation is addictive. The passion between you two is undeniable but so are the issues. You guys have “broken up” and reconciled countless times. One of you has a serious addiction to sex, drugs, and alcohol. They have made a lot of bad decisions and claim to not remember doing it. This is something you refuse to deal with long term. The next move is a decision. Your person wants to be stubborn and is in denial about their substance abuse. This will be a difficult conversation because they will be manipulative. For some of you your person is in legal issues because of their struggle with sobriety. You are trying to be supportive but they are very resistant.

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creamecafe · 1 year

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𝐔𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬

*Spoilers for Wakanda Forever if you haven't seen it yet. You have been warned*

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

*Part 2 of @ackroxia Your The Only Friend I Need. Go to Part 1 if you haven't already

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑: This gif above isn't mine. It belongs to @melodykisses

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It had been one year since Y/N had moved to Wakanda and everything has changed for her. Including her feelings toward Shuri. Y/N had been holding it in thinking Shuri won't feel the same for you, but little does she know, she does. Will one of them confess their feelings before it's too late of war?

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Shuri Udaku x Avenger!Fem!Reader with Super-Powers

𝐖.𝐂: 1.6k

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mutual pining, overthinking,

𝐚/𝐧: This is part 2 of 'Your The Only Friend I Need' Shuri Udaku x Fem!Reader fanfic. hope you enjoy it! Also please note that I'm very terrible at writing fight scenes 😭✋ also idr a majority of Wakanda Forever so I'm gonna edit when it comes out in HD

Don't forget to like, share, reblog and comment on what you think!

Feedback is always appreciated!

It has been one year since you moved into Wakanda due to the Queen's request to comfort Shuri. And you never thought where you ended up now. Due to you being mildly enhanced with powers. You were seen as a hero in the eyes of the people of Wakanda.

You also noticed your feelings strated to change. Those feelings were for Shuri, your best friend. It seemed like whenever you guys interacted with each other or touch skin to skin it sparked a flame in you.

You thought you were feeling a bit under the weather and the feeling would at least go away in a day or two. But it didn't. You desperately tried to get rid of those feelings, in fear and avoiding humiliation that she wouldn't feel the same about you.

But little did you know...she did in fact. Shuri started having feelings for you too but also afraid of being the first to speak up.

You both hadn't realized that your feelings for each other was just a butterfly wanting to be free from it's cocoon. One day you were training your powers in her lab.

"Ok Y/N," Shuri said as she finished setting up the dummies for practice. "Your goal is to try to beat these dummies, pretend these are bad guys in under 2 minutes. Think you can do that?"

"Yup. Can do it."

"Ok let me know when you're ready."

"I'm all set."

"And your time starts now."

You used your forceful wave powers to knock down the dummies one by one. You did a little tuck and roll on the floor to get one. Now you are off to just one dummy and you easily knocked it down."

"Oh my god. 28 seconds. That's amazing. Maybe you wouldn't survive 28 seconds if you did quicker."

"Oh shut up Shuri," You laughed and so did Shuri.

"Now we gotta test your combat skills."

"Combat skills? I have powers, pretty sure that's enough."

"Well, what if one day you can't use your powers, just your hands, and feet to fight for your life?"

"Ok fine."

You both went to the training room to go practice your combat skills. Both of you got ready in stance with arms up ready to fight.

Shuri came charging at you and you dodged quickly. You came at her and hit her in the side. Although you felt bad that you were hitting her

"You're doing great." Shuri panted as she held her side.

You try to get rid of your feeling bad for Shuri and continue on training. You went charging at her and she missed completely and hit you in the leg. She also felt bad for having to hit you.

"That's cute." You said while smiling

Shuri smiled too and went straight for you but you grabbed her and put her on the ground. You went on top of her and locked your knees in place so she wouldn't move.

That's great. But if this was a real fight, you woudln't stand a chance. You winked.

Little did you know the trick Shuri had up her sleeve. She swiftly grabbed you and turned you onto the ground. Now she was on top of you.

Your hands were on the ground as you were about to raise them up but she hold them to stop you.

Now it was just silence. Neither of you knew what to say in this position. Your heart was beating fast that you swore Shuri could hear it. But Shuri was too busy with the beating of hers.

You looked down on her lips. Oh you could just kiss them. Shuri closed her eyes and leaned down to kiss you, and you closed your eyes as well.

As she was close to your lips, a voice called out.

"Shuri!"

You both snapped out of the trance and got off of each other to see Okoye walking in the training room.

"Shuri"

"Yes Okoye what is it?" Shuri cleared her throat of what just happened.

"We have no time to waste with Namor and his army threatening Wakanda."

Right. You forgot about the whole situation with Namor approaching Queen Ramonda and Shuri on the night of their ritual to burn their clothes moving on the death from T'Challa.

Shuri left the training room to do research on her in her lab and you followed her too. You just can't get out of your mind of what happened. You took almost kissed. Unless she wanted to kiss you or you wanted to kiss her. You put those thoughts away as the three of you went into the lab.

Shuri searched up the Riri Williams and saw her full documents of where's she from, her birthdate, address, etc.

"4.5 GPA student, straight A's and highly advanced in mechanical engineering and building."

"Namor and his army are gonna do something way bigger if we don't do something quick Shuri." Okoye said.

"Yes yes I understand that."

"What are we going to do?" You asked.

"We're going to have to go to America to have her come here."

"Get that girl to come here? I don't think the chances of her saying yes would be possible Shuri."

"You said yes when you were asked to come here. Maybe we could convince her."

Convincing is one thing.

"Go prepare the ship. I'm gonna change."

"I'll do the same." You said as you were going to your room to change to go along with Shuri and Okoye.

"Y/N, you're not going with us."

You thought you had misheard Shuri.

"What? Why not? I can help you guys."

"Wakanda needs their hero. Okoye and I got this."

"But what if something happens and I'm not there?"

"Nothing will happen, Okoye is a great fighter and I'll contact you if anything happens."

You have taken a deep breath and tried to stay calm. Shuri asking you to stay has made you worried but you didn't say anything else to upset her, because mainly you were in love with her.

"Ok, I trust you. I'll help you get ready." You said with a smile and Shuri returned with one too.

You and Shuri walked into her room helping her get ready. The silence was just unbearable. You wish you could just say at the moment how you feel and not knowing Shuri wanted to as well.

After everything was set and ready to go. Okoye, Shuri, Ramonda and you saying goodbye to each other.

"Y/N," Shuri said turning to you. Your heart beat fast as she approached you.

"I will be back, I promised." Shuri wish at that moment she could kiss you but held it inside. Same with you.

You give her a big hug. Hoping she keeps her promise.

"Please come back. We need you here."

The correct term would be I instead of we but you let it go in the back of your mind.

After you pull out of the hug, Okoye went and hugged you too.

"I didn't take you as the hugging type, Okoye." I smile laughing.

"Only around people I tolerate," She laughs and you do too.

"Be safe both of you please."

"I'll let you know when we landed." Shuri said as she was going into the ship. She looked back and saw you standing there, so beautiful she thought.

She turned back to inside the ship and then it took off. You went inside back the citadel and try not to overthink and that Shuri and Okoye were fine.

-Time skip-

It had been 10 minutes and you had a message from Shuri that they made it. Your heart beat in relaxation as you were glad they were ok. You had nothing to worry about.

You around the city to helping people and ended up playing kickball with one the of the kids in which you had a excellent time.

A day later

You had woken up to people panicking to what was happening. Soon you found out that Shuri and the girl, Riri Williams, she went to retrieve were missing in a attack from the same man that threatened Wakanda.

Your heart even sunk more in fear and panic.

You were there when Okoye lost her status and you felt guilty for her. You know she's one of the best fighters in the Dora Milaje and she gave all your best.

You knew nothing can be done unless there's change. You decided to go to Nakia in hope she can help you.

"But Y/N, they already said they'll wage war if any of us go farther."

"But this is Shuri's life we're talking here. In our hands. We need to do something quick or they'll keep her hostage not knowing what they might do to her."

Nakia sighed for and pondered for a moment.

"We lost T'Challa, I don't wanna lose Shuri too."

"Neither do I"

"Then help me please Nakia."

She thought about it then nodded her head.

"I'll help you but we'll need a plan."

"And I got one." You smirked.

This was it. You both were going to save Shuri and Riri from Namor and bring her home. You pray nothing goes wrong, can it?

Taglist: @musa4blue @bakugounuggets @shesmilesaway @melodykisses @lilroachsworld @emiim23 @rbfacee @matysa @retirement-home @imbetterthanyourman @ilacknames @salisilverio02-blog @yellowjacketmurder @katefullerrr @adharaoaklyn @aki-ham @cedeni-beanie @ziayamikaelson @bbxnny-bbxtch @uhh-awkward-rightt @ur-casual-twink @prettymuchbloodup @kucingberkokok @elirivera247 @rayrayvan

Let me know in the comments you want to be tagged for part 3!

a/n: please note that I don't why it won't allow me to tag others. So please be patient until I find a way to get your name tagged.

Thanks for reading! Don't forget to heart, reblog, share, comment on what you think, and follow for more works! You can also find me on Wattpad and my other socials in my bio. Feedback is always much appreciated!

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annabolinas · 6 months

Note

Who is your fav portrayal of Jane Seymour and Kathryn Howard?

Good question! My favorite portrayals of Jane Seymour and Catherine Howard are Anne Stallybrass in The Six Wives of Henry VIII (1970), the BBC miniseries, and Lynne Frederick in its movie adaptation, Henry VIII and His Six Wives (1972), respectively. In case you want to watch either portrayal, both the 1970 show and the 1972 film are available on OK (dot) ru. Just search for "the six wives of Henry VIII Jane Seymour" for the first one and the title of the movie for the second, making sure to choose the video which is 1:59:19. Best of all, there's no ads or popups!

Anyways, here's the long answer itself. It's quite a long post below, so be warned.

It's very easy to make Jane into either a cipher (e.g. Wolf Hall, Anne Boleyn [2021]) or a bland non-entity (e.g. Anne of the Thousand Days, Season 3 of The Tudors), but Stallybrass portrays her sympathetically, yet as a rounded human. That's the key, really. This is a living, breathing Jane, not the bland Goody Two-Shoes of Annabelle Wallis in Season 3 of The Tudors. As an Anne fan, I do feel this portrayal exonerates her rather too much of culpability in the former's unjust execution - this portrayal of Jane isn't involved at all with the plot to get rid of Anne but feels guilty anyways. However, it's a very moving depiction of a gentle, introverted believer in traditional Catholicism who would much rather be in the countryside, at Wolf Hall, than dealing with court intrigue.

Henry falls for her during his 1535 visit to Wolf Hall, and while Jane wants to protect her chastity, they bond over their shared fear of the plague and faith. Despite her arrival back at court after the royal visit, she longs for the comforts of her country home. She tells her sister-in-law Anne Stanhope that she'd much rather be arranging flowers at Wolf Hall than be at court after Anne rips Henry's locket off her neck. This Jane also stands up for what she believes in. She shows a love for monasticism at her first meeting with Henry, passionately telling him that the locals visiting Hailes Abbey are "afraid for the abbeys, sir, for their souls!". Later, she pleads with Henry to restore the abbeys during the Pilgrimage of Grace, which she argues must be God's punishment. The fact Henry proceeds to scream at her and damage her faith by revealing the Blood of Christ from Hailes is in fact, a vial of duck's blood, doesn't diminish her bravery.

Indeed, Jane takes no part in the plot to get rid of Anne here, although she nevertheless feels guilty over it. She intercedes for Mary to return to court after her submission, to which Henry replies, "If you had your way, my little nun," he says, "every villain in the country would go free." Jane's shy reply that "I should make a very poor ruler" is met with more condescending "affection" from Henry. Indeed, this version of Jane actually flees from the Christmas 1536 celebrations at one point, as it gets too overwhelming for her. This makes Henry's condescension and later, outright mental and emotional abuse, even more heartbreaking; even worse, Henry's treatment of her is probably just how it really was in history. After he shows her the duck's blood, Henry quickly apologizes and sinks into self-pity so bad Jane has to comfort him while pitifully weeping, "I am bound to obey and serve you, sir." Even as Henry celebrates Edward's birth and baptism, he fails to notice Jane lapsing in and out of consciousness. His tears by her body, lying in state, are too little, too late.

Lynne Frederick was actually only 17 when this movie was filmed - looking back, perhaps they could've waited a year or two. Nevertheless, this is somehow the best portrayal of Catherine Howard on screen despite her only appearing on screen for fifteen minutes in a two-hour movie. Let me just briefly summarize her storyline and give some analysis, because there's so much good stuff in here.

Frederick's Catherine is a vivacious, warm-hearted teenager who finds herself the object of Henry's unwanted affections. This Henry is, as in history, prematurely aged and far taller/stouter than Catherine, which makes his asking her uncle Norfolk whether she is "a good girl" even more disturbing. As Henry leaves Lambeth, Norfolk and Bishop Gardiner walk with Catherine, who protests that "I had not looked for it, sir. I had wished -" Gardiner then cuts her off saying that she "may no longer consider your own wishes. You now have a duty to return England to the true faith." It's a very telling exchange, as Catherine's own emotions or feelings are brutally trampled on by the men around her; all she can do is look mournfully at both of them.

When next we see her, she's already married to Henry, enjoying the jewels and rich clothes that being his queen brings. It's a grotesque sight, as the teenage Catherine kisses, and is in turn fondled by an old man nearly three times her age. However, being queen isn't all positive, as she reveals to Henry that she had a nightmare of a bird caught in a room crying out to her for help, perhaps a manifestation of her own feelings of helplessness. Her kind-heartedness is shown when she sends a puppy to Anne of Cleves, who in this film has solely been depicted as comic relief. In a later scene, as Henry limps to the window on his cane, he blows a kiss to Catherine, who is walking in the garden with Culpeper. Although she returns his kiss, it's a sign of things to come.

While Henry and Catherine enjoy themselves on the Northern Progress, in private, he is disappointed to discover she's not yet pregnant. Nevertheless, he gives her a rich jewel, although he does have to read the text for her, as Catherine admits she can't read very well, another heartbreaking detail. The audience's (and my) horror skyrockets when Henry proceeds to uncover Catherine's thigh from beneath her dressing robe and rain kisses on it, as the camera pans up to an incredibly disturbed Catherine who winces and tries to pull herself together. Her marriage to Henry is a gilded cage, and it is difficult to escape the conclusion this Catherine thinks of Henry more as a father figure than a husband.

After Henry is told of her premarital relationships, though, he abandons her, much to her dismay. She is then questioned by Archbishop Cranmer, maintaining that she was raped by Dereham "without my will or consent" and staunchly denying a precontract, despite Cranmer's argument it would save her life. When he accuses her of adultery with Culpeper, though, she tearfully pleads for his help, weeping, "I would have wed him. And been his wife. But they worked on me, sir. My Lord of Norfolk - Bishop Gardiner - my grandmother. Talking, whispering together. Telling him I was bound. That I was bound to the king. And now my fame is gone and I'm nothing young and I -" When Cranmer tells her she must calm down, Catherine swings around and screams, "Don't touch me! You all handle me!" It's a poignant allusion to her premarital abuse, as it's specified in the movie that Catherine was only 13 when Manox preyed on her. She then recalls her cousin Anne's bravery in death before dissolving into another flood of tears.

In the end, she makes her way to the block, silently but with composure. She pays the executioner, is blindfolded, kneels, and then, holding a rosary, stretches out her hands like the wings of a bird in flight. The tragedy of this depiction of Catherine (and arguably the real Catherine) is that from the moment we see her, she's a pawn of men, who use her to further their own desires and agendas. Only in death is she freed.

#tudor era #jane seymour #anne stallybrass #the six wives of henry viii #catherine howard #lynne frederick #henry viii and his six wives #I AM SO SORRY FOR HOW LONG THIS IS #I just have so much to say!!#😭😭😭#but I hope this is a good answer!#katherine howard #katheryn howard #kathryn howard #henry viii

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lea-noah · 4 months

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never forgive me

"Master, please never forgive me. Master, Hate me. Kill me. [anything] please..."

obikin edit from Across the Stars series made by l e a n o a h | # 1 | # 2 | # 3 | # 4 | # 5 | # 6 | # 7 one of my favourite (heartbreaking again 😭) obikin fanart ❤️❤️❤️ by @mandhos pin | deviantart c | 09. 01. 2024

The lockscreen Version. 👇 Free to use and share (please credit or link) Thanks.

fanart : @mandhos overlays : Carllton textures : erinaeErae psd : ciaracoloring

[ inspired/based on ]

Guilt. There’s no other feeling more human than guilt. Nothing can expose the human flaws, its own confines better than guilt. For only then, you’re made aware of your human condition. The utter misery and absurdity of it. [...] No, you must have everything, given everything you ever could wish for, power, fame, luck, love, have the world on your knees or thinking yourself above it all, above death itself, above everyone, for only you have the right to have it all and do whatever you want with it. You are free, you are able and justly entitled to decide what should or shouldn’t happen, what is your own, who is yours and belongs to you. For you are none other than Anakin Skywalker. The one and only Chosen One this galaxy had ever known, the legendary Jedi, the “Hero with No Fear” every being in this galaxy has heard about, fearless since the famous hero forgot he’s just a human. He didn’t forget. He acted like he did, because it was easier. It was easier to live in the illusion of him being invincible, ‘cause otherwise… he would remember what he really is, like when his mother died. A human. No, less still. A small pathetic weak human and he knew it then. Fear. Even with him still having his cherished “all”, he threw himself to gain even more. To get more admiration, more recognition, more honor, praise, love… but most of all, power. Only more power, the supreme power could face his fears. Could crush it. Erase it forever. Wipe out this annoying defect blemishing his existence. He’s no ordinary human. He’s above it. For he has it all and can have even more. Yes, he can. He will… it’s what he thought.

He never actually asked himself why was he offered so much?! Why was he given everything that made him feel important, feel wanted, feel…happy. Oh, the answer is never simpler. Because it will make a karking good show of watching him lose it all. It will be so much satisfying to see everything he had, crumble before his very eyes, no, better yet, blasting it all with his own hands, will it not? Falling to degraded mindless scug, no, even lower, for he became nothing more than a slave…willingly. To Palpatine, to power, to fear. He threw away anything left human in himself because he was afraid to live as one. Anakin Skywalker would have been dead to the world and to himself foremost, since to think himself alive, to call himself with that name again, would mean to accept everything he did. Everything he destroyed. Everyone he killed. At last, accept he is only a human or even less, for he can change nothing. He’s helpless. He can’t erase his deeds or revive the ones he killed. He can’t ask forgiveness from the loved ones he betrayed, as he never will be forgiven. He has no right to be forgiven. He may die for the world, for the whole galaxy, save it, save every living soul on it. He may burn alive for them, let his screams of pain entertain them, let his blood wash the dirt on their soles, let his tears choke a whole flaming river, let his knees grow in stone and it still wouldn’t be enough. It will never be. And this he knows now, it’s what is called guilt. His guilt. To want to do all of that only to lessen it. A fraction. A scrap. A breath lighter to take in, a tad less feeling like rotten sand are filling his lungs. Like the air carries screams of whom he slayed. He’s dying. That’s what humans do. Worse yet, as he’s doing it himself, slowly, oh, so very slow, with every taken breath, with every strangling beat his heart dares to pound. His body knew of pain that nearly wiped out his mind with its intensity, however even that paled beside what his guilt feels for him now. And it gets worse. Since he is given it. A second chance. Warmth. Love. Trust. Happiness if he chooses to forget everything. He’s given so much, more than he ever had… and with every small smile, warm hand or caring gaze he’s gifted with, everything that Obi-Wan gives him, with it Anakin Skywalker dies. His guilt is killing him, and the slashes are getting heavier, sharper, unbearable more. For he understands he doesn’t deserve any of it. He can’t have it. He shall not. He was not forgiven. He will never be.

| Chapter 24 "Guilt and Peace" from "Chosen: from the Ashes" by lea noah

#obikin #my fic #obi wan and anakin #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #dark fic #obikin fanart #obikin fanart edit #obikin edit #aesthetic edit #star wars lockscreen #star wars edit #star wars wallpaper

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angry-geese · 2 years

Text

Sukuna x reader

Warnings: slight OSHA incompliance. A bit suggestive, overall sfw. Mentions of blood and injury. Just some monster boyfriend Sukuna licking your wounds. Reader is gender neutral

Synopsis: "he's a ten but he licks your wounds" but with Sukuna ksgdkdhk

Word count: just over 700 :)

A/n: this was a drabble I started a few days ago that I never really intended to post but all this talk about Sukuna today gave me the motivation to finish it kshdkfhk

Also this was not really proofread so apologies for any errors <3

"Let me see your wound."

The fire has died down, leaving only embers. Despite this, the room is quite warm. In a bit, you should get up, and throw some more logs on the fire, but lethargy prevents you from doing such. Instead, you stay seated on your spot on the floor, picking at the loose threads of the mat. At one point in time, you were polishing your blade; but the weapon has fallen abandoned by your side.

"I'm fine," you say, "really."

"I could smell your blood from down the hall," he says. “Let me see your wound.”

It's an order, not a question. Sukuna motions for you to sit beside him on the bed. And although you’re not a small person in either stature, or build, you’re nearly dwarfed by the King of Curses.

“Yes, well, it turns out the locals don't take too kindly to visitors,” you say, clutching your injured arm.

You feel his breath across the bare skin of your neck. Blood has seeped through your thin, white shirt. When his hands move to the knot at the front of your shirt, undoing it, you do little to resist. The fabric falls off your shoulders, before getting caught on your elbows. On instinct, your arms cross in front of your chest. Across your shoulder, no longer than the length of your hand, is a cut. It's not deep enough to require stitches, but it’ll leave a scar. The bleeding has mostly stopped, but some blood still seeps from it. The awkward position of the cut has left it difficult for you to treat yourself, but asking for help from someone else is out of the question. So you had simply returned to your room, to wallow in your own pity.

“I should have sent Uruame.” He says. “There was no need for you to get injured."

What's gotten into him lately? First, the night down by the river, now this?

Either Ryoumen Sukuna is getting sentimental, or you're looking too hard into this.

The latter seems more likely. But the King of Curses has had a more human streak as of late. Not out in the nearby villages, where he kills and plunders to his heart's content, but within the stone walls of his shrine. Nights by the fire were shared. Plenty of alcohol flowed.

Sukuna was human. At one point in time. Perhaps a shred of humanity still exists within him. It may be shriveled, and dying, but it’s there.

"I'll live." You say.

And really, you will. It's only a flesh wound. The scar it'll cause will barely be worth telling a story about. You've received worse injuries for less, and come out on top every time.

Some day your luck is going to run out. Until then, you’re content to live as you please, free from any human society that exists. You, much like the King of Curses, are content to live to your own devices.

The feeling of a hot tongue against your skin is nearly enough to make you scream. Your eyes go wide. Goosebumps rise along your arms. Instead of swatting him away, which you very much want to do, you allow Sukuna to lap at the blood that drips steadily from your wound. Whether his saliva actually holds some strange healing property, or it’s simply a trick of your mind, you’ll never know, but the ache in your shoulder subsides slightly.

“That was reckless.” He scolds.

Something burns at your face. Perhaps it’s shame. Maybe embarrassment. You never get the chance to answer him. When he kisses you, a faint metallic taste lingers on his lips. In that moment you feel something strange within his touch. Something human. It's almost as if he’s afraid.

Impossible, you remind yourself. He doesn't feel fear.

“Lay with me,” he says softly, “just for a bit.”

He's asking this time, not commanding. Sukuna doesn't need to sleep—not in the way humans do. This bed was merely here for decoration, and a soft surface to fuck on—until you came along, and claimed it for yourself. Yet you allow yourself to give in, laying back on the soft mattress as he curls around you.

#ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #sukuna #ryoumen sukuna #true form sukuna supremacy #sukuna ryoumen #jujutsu kaisen #slight osha incompliance #cw blood and injury #does this count as a blood kink?#idk

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lovelywritinglady · 1 year

Text

Be Okay pt.3

Satoru Gojo x Reader, Nanami Kento x Reader

Fluff, slight angst. Last part of this series.

Your pov

F/n came and picked me up from my apartment and took me to their home. I’m so grateful for them. I think I’d lose my mind entirely if I couldn’t have their help. They let me lounge on their couch for the time being. Thankfully it was extremely comfortable. They let me vent and cry about what happened. Telling me just how shitty Satoru is for cheating on me and ruining or relationship.

My life for the longest time has be all but consumed with Satoru. Now that I no longer have him, I’m not sure what to do. I know leaving was the best option for me. He cheated on me, broke my trust, and ruined the love we once shared. Part of me blames myself for what happened. Maybe I could have tried to love him more? Maybe I could have pretended? Or maybe I’m not pretty enough for him anymore? The woman he was with was extremely beautiful. Honestly, I can see why he was with her. However, if he wanted her so bad, then why did he stay with me? A week later I was touring a small apartment the was in my price range. One bedroom and one bathroom. Just enough room for me and whatever happens next.

Fifteen months later…

It’s been a while now and I’m much happier and I’ve been going to an awesome therapist for the past ten months. And now I feel so fulfilled with myself and the life I made for myself. I was such a broken soul back then and now I feel free. I also got a new job at a financial company in the sales department. It’s a boring job that requires me to sell shit product for way more than they are worth. It’s not an honest job, but at least I get paid well. So I guess you can say that’s I’m okay.

I also met someone nine months ago whose so incredibly beautiful. His name is Nanami Kento. He’s a mature man that is so kindhearted. I never thought that I’d be able to love like this again, but he’s shown me that it’s okay to love. He was very respectful towards me and didn’t pressure me to do anything I wasn’t comfortable with. We took our time together and built up a trust that I never even had with Satoru. And I find the beauty in moving on from him. Now I see my worth when it comes to relationships and even other things outside of that. Kento really helped me realize that. So I can safely say that we love each other and that it’s real. I don’t fear losing him to someone else or being afraid of him flirting with other people. He looks at me and treats me like I’m the most important thing to him. He takes time out of his busy day to make sure I’m doing okay. That was something that took getting use to, but I realize that it’s a good thing. Nanami and I have a healthy relationship dynamic and I couldn’t be happier with it.

I haven’t seen Satoru Gojo since that dreadful day. I’m really glad for that. But now I know that if I see him, that it won’t hurt me like it I thought it would’ve months ago. Now I’m okay and his betrayal doesn’t affect me at all. I understand now that it wasn’t my fault in the slightest. That he was the one that broke that trust. I’ve felt so much lighter having that burden off of my shoulders. I try not to think about it too much, but I sometimes wonder how he’s doing now.

Satoru Gojo pov

It killed me not seeing her these past fifteen months. Initially I wanted to give her some space. I knew that if I went to her immediately, she’d shut me down. And I didn’t want that. I truly don’t know why I waited this long. Maybe it was because of work? Maybe it was because I was scared? Maybe I was just to nervous? I don’t really know. But now I’m ready to get her back. I’ve changed these past months. Since that woman, I haven’t been with any one else. No one else to me could even compare to y/n. No one else holds my heart the same way she does. No one else loved me even when we were at our lowest. I don’t deserve her at all. I know that I don’t, especially after what I did. But I’ll be dammed if I don’t try.

It’s practically took a month to convince y/n’s friend to tell me the area that my lover lived in. They simply wouldn’t budge. And to be honest, I kind of respect their loyalty. F/n told me that they would not give y/n’s actual address because that would be shitty. And they told me that it was up to y/n whether or not she would give me further information. Which was completely fair.

So here I am with her favorite flowers in hand walking around the area in which y/n lives at. I want to convince her that I’ve changed and that woman meant nothing to me. That y/n is the only person for me and back then I was far too stupid to understand that. If things go well, maybe we can move here together. This place is really nice and it’s got a homey feel to it. Walking around I notice a lot of cute stores and other fun things to do. No wonder she chose this area. It’s the perfect place for her.

I wondered around for awhile about to give up on my search. Maybe she’s out of town or something? Or maybe f/n gave me the wrong area? I was about to give up my search when I saw her. She looked so beautiful. Even more beautiful than I remember her. She had this huge smile plastered on her face and her cheeks were dusted pink. She looked genuinely happy and my heart filled with joy seeing her so.

Not even a split second later I saw the reason for that happiness. It was my old friend Nanami Kento. He was holding her hand. Even he was smiling too, which was an extremely rare occurrence. I felt cold seeing them together. I’m not a fool, I know when I see a happy couple. She’s moved on now and I was too late to stop her. I guess I deserve this though. I was the one to break her heart. I’m just glad she’s in good hands now. Nanami is an honorable man who will take good care of her. At least I know that’s she’s gonna be okay…

Thank you so much for reading. This is the last part of “Be Okay” I have a lot more stories in stock. Stay tuned. ❤️ This story has an alternate ending on Wattpad that I am currently writing if anyone is interested.

Please feel free to request, comment, and reblog

Click here to see what I’ll write for and click HERE for my master list.

•I do NOT own any characters except y/n•

Art not mine

L.W.L

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

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schizopositivity · 1 year

Note

are there any resources you can share about caring for a loved one who may be going through a psychotic episode?

my little sister (21) is going through something that looks like an episode, but we don’t know for sure since she hasn’t had one before. my parents convinced her to see a psychiatrist, but because she *seems* okay until she starts laughing uncontrollably or doesn’t know where she is or thinks her body is horribly deformed, the first appointment didn’t really go well (as in, my dad didn’t bother talking to the psychiatrist himself and let my sister go to the appointment herself). i haven’t seen her recently, but i have spoken to her and she doesn’t seem like herself.

i’ve found sources about how to help someone with active delusions/hallucinations, but nothing much on care when they are rambling nonsense words or when they *seem* fine but then get set off and start ranting/screaming at others (sometimes obvious triggers, sometimes completely unfounded from an outsider perspective).

i struggle with my own mental health, and bipolar disorder and schizophrenia run in our family. i’m mostly concerned about providing informed care for my visit (she cannot be left alone according the psychiatrist so i will be sleeping in the same room with her).

any advice would be helpful and greatly appreciated <3

I think encouraging her to get regular psychiatric care is the best option. There is only so much you can do as a nonprofessional. For most people who suffer from psychosis, the most impactful and effective treatments are prescription medications and therapy. And those are two things you cannot provide yourself. I'm sure you and your family are aware of this, but if she struggles to open up or tell the truth or even just remember her actions to tell to her psychiatrist, it might be very helpful if you or another one of your family members schedules an appointment with her psychiatrist so that you can tell them things from your perspective.

For trying to help you sister at home, I think just being there for her, to listen, to watch out for, and to be nonjudgmental of her will go a long way. Try to make her comfortable, try to eliminate any known triggers that you can. Try to let her know you are there for her and you will keep her safe. Start an open honest dialogue with her. Ask her if she is aware of her actions, how she feels at the time, if you could do anything to help during those times. Maybe she can tell it's coming before it happens and she can notify you. Maybe she isn't aware at all and would like you to let her know what she did.

Every psychotic person's experiences and needs are different. While general articles and guides can be a helpful start, it's also important to communicate with the person you are caring for and ask them what would be helpful to them specifically. The best time to set up crisis plans, coping skills and other forms of care is when the person is doing well or is at their baseline. So when your sister is not in an episode would be the best time to have these conversations and set up these plans to help.

Also, even though you might not understand what your sister is going through, you can find parts to understand, and go from your own understanding of what might help. For example: a common feeling during psychosis is fear and/or confusion. You could think about times when you are afraid and confused and think about what things might help during those times (like assuring safety, explaining things, etc).

I'm sorry I took so long to reply, I had stuff going on that kinda kept me from doing this. If anything in this situation has since changed feel free to send me another ask and I can try to give some insight into things as they are currently. Or even if you just want to update how things are I'd be happy to hear it.

#psychosis #psychotic episode #caring for someone with psychosis #loved one with psychosis #answered

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fluffytriceratops · 2 years

Text

Random facts about Monet. <3

Couldn’t help myself, I drew an older Monet. I love this bab so much. She deserves the world. Raph is definitely a proud papa. And Kristina feels lucky to have raised such a strong young woman. 😊❤️

I’ll be doing Nefertiri next, so stay tuned for that! ^~^

I drew this quite a while ago, I just never had the time/chance to post it. But since my job is done with, hopefully I’ll have more time to come online. See my pinned post for more details hehe. There’s quite a bit that went down the past couple weeks. I’m on vacation rn, so I won’t have a ton of time, but I’ll come on when I can! Expect to see a lot of spam from me because my notifications are overflowing— I’m talking way over 500 lol. So if I accidentally missed something you tagged me in, I apologize profusely. 😫 (also I am in no way trying to brag or anything about how many notifications I have, if it felt or seemed like that I’m sorry that’s not my intention I’m just trying to explain why I might miss something someone wanted me to see— 😅)

Tags: @thelaundrybitch @rheawritesforfun @digitl-art-monstr @turtle-babe83 @leosgirl82 @post-apocalyptic-daydream @mysticboombox @drowninghell @squirrelfurs @lec743 @raphslovemuffin80 @bibiz82

(If you want to be tagged in my future TMNT/Raph&Kris related posts, feel free to let me know and I’ll happily add you!)

Have a wonderful day/night! Sending all the virtual hugs to you!! <333

—

- She was named after Claude Monet, a famous French painter.

- She is super strong, like really freaking strong. (Mystic power strong?) She can take a hit and she can deliver one too. When sparring with her sister (Nefertiri) she has to continuously remind herself to take it easy and not use her strength to its fullest. Otherwise she could accidentally really hurt her. This probably goes for other family members as well, especially those that are human and can’t really handle the brunt of her attacks when she is using 100% of her strength.

- Monet loves her strength but sometimes she’s scared she’ll accidentally hurt someone. (Something that’s happened on a few occasions, especially when she’s upset/angry or overly excited, she tends to forget how strong she really is) so she usually dials her strength down a lot if she can remember to. One of her biggest fears is to accidentally go too far and really hurt someone she cares for.

- Definitely a secret softy. Very few people in her inner circle have seen this side of her. It’s not something she’s comfortable with sharing. However, a lot of her family and friends knows she’s like this. She just heavily denies it. (Classic Raphael move hehe)

- She has anger issues and they only get worse the older she gets. She can be very violent and sometimes needs a reminder to take a step back and breathe. This is usually given to her by one of her family members.

- She is not afraid to put anyone in their place. She will speak her mind, no matter the consequences. Her bark is just as big as her bite. Monet is brutally honest and has a hard time keeping her mouth shut. She will snark the shit out of someone and loves a good banter. She loves to poke fun and tease people and doesn’t mind it if they do so in return.

- Please challenge her to an arm wrestling battle or spar with her. She loves it and will forever be your friend.

- Hates bitter and overly spicy or sour foods. She has an enormous sweet tooth. Loves baked goods, chocolates and candies. (All except the sour ones) Also prefers cold foods/drinks over hot ones. For example, iced coffee over hot coffee. Or milk/boba teas over regular hot tea.

- A good way to get on her good side is by bringing/making her something sweet. Whether you bake her some cookies or buy her a boba tea. Whatever. She might not show it right away, but she would be very grateful and happy about it.

- Loves to pull jokes and prank people, especially with her cousin Noa ( @rheawritesforfun ‘s OC).

- Monet is obsessed with horror/gore. She loves the genre, they’re always her favourite movies/books/video games. Halloween is her favourite Holliday. She goes all out for it. Candy and horror? That’s her shit! And it’s one of the only times she gets to be out on the surface. Which is awesome.

- Second favourite Holliday is April fools/Loki day. Everyone dreads the first of April because they know it’s about to go down. She prepares months in advance and anyone and everyone she knows will be suffering from her pranks. No matter who you are or how old you may be. No one if safe on that day. She goes all out.

- Bares her teeth at people often. Monet has sharp canines like her father, and sometimes they poke out of her mouth. But when she’s angry or in a bad mood, she will bare her teeth threateningly at people. Especially when she’s fighting.

- Queen of resting bitch face. Even when she’s in a good mood she’ll look the opposite.

- Often tells people to go fuck off or to go fuck themselves. Her mum hates her potty mouth, but Monet loves to curse/swear. She likes to come up with weird or creative comebacks too.

- Just like her mother, she is not the best singer. She’s definitely better than Kristina is, maybe even average? But she wouldn’t consider herself as someone with a good/great singing voice.

- Shows her affection with actions rather than words. Doesn’t hug often, but she will give head pats (or ruffle someone’s hair) as signs of her love and adoration. Same thing goes for fist bumps and secret hand shakes n stuff. If she is more physical with someone, they better not mention it because she’ll most likely immediately pull away and brush them off out of embarrassment. If someone continuously teases her about it, she’d snap angrily and storm off.

- Monet will get into a physical fight with someone. She tends to lash out and sometimes it can get quite aggressive. She gets better at storming off and walking away the older she gets, but it’s definitely very hard for her to do so. Her anger isn’t a party trick. It’s serious. And it’s something she battles with every day.

- She also tends to rant/vent A LOT to those she’s closest to. (Noa is definitely one of em lol) she doesn’t like to express her feelings openly to most people but she will to a select few. And those select few better be prepared for an ear full.

- HATES being bossed around and controlled. Especially if it’s involving someone she doesn’t like, or if she’s forced to do something she doesn’t want to. If it’s an order, she will do it. She’ll just bitch about it while doing so.

- Door slams are very common with Monet. And because of her strength, she has broken waaay more than anyone would care to admit. There’s a jar labeled “Monet’s doors” filled with cash from Monet because she usually has to pay for a new one. Or at least, help pay for one. It’s like a swear jar but with doors. They’ve given up on her swearing long ago hehe.

- Monet can be described as being erratic emotionally. She is daring, brave, and free spirited but she can also be quite sardonic and sarcastic. And of course, a classic rebel. She is very athletically adept, and can be quite friendly/kind to her family and friends. However, Monet is also very willful, stubborn, incredibly rude and aggressive. She is also the most relentless out of her siblings. It is her relentless ferocity that makes her such a deadly fighter.

- Monet loves to fight, wrestle, and trash the place. If there’s a brawl, she would love to join in the fight. Because of her passion for fighting, she would fight first and reflect and ask questions later.

- She can also be very cocky and competitive. When she wins games and duels against her friends and family, she will rub it in their faces, much to their dismay.

- Monet can be unpredictable, and her ferocious temper can sometimes frighten enemies even her friends/family. She can be very aggressive when trying to solve problems, even with her family and allies. Sometimes during training, Monet can get hostile, and she would do anything she can to beat her family in sparring matches. When she feels misunderstood or irritated (which unfortunately happens a lot), she tends to storm out and go topside or roam the sewers on her own. Despite the fact that her parents don’t like this considering it can be very dangerous.

- Despite all of this, she is the most loyal friend anyone could ask for. She will do anything, literally just about anything to protect those she cares for. Even if she might not ever admit it, in order to stay “badass” and “hardcore” and to protect her pride. She will do everything in her power to protect her friends and family.

- Basically she’s Raphael 2.0 (more so the other iterations, but still—).

- Because of her anger, and rebellious nature I do not believe she would be chosen to be the next leader. Whoever would be picked, she’d feel a bit resentful towards. They’d definitely have a bit of a rocky relationship. Especially if it’s a certain someone (cough cough Milo cough). (Another of @rheawritesforfun ‘s ocs). Due to their relationship already being a bit rocky lol. It’d definitely be a classic Leo vs Raph thing. And she’d probably be like “of course you’d get the role, you’re the former leaders son. I call favouritism.” Or something like that lmao. She’d defy his orders a lot, that’s for sure. Honestly, she’d defy anyones orders. Except maaaybe Noa. Cuz they’re as thick as thieves.

- Her weapon of choice would be the tetsubo. And she’d also always carry brass knuckles with her wherever she goes. Specially made to fit her hands by her wonderful uncle Donnie. She’d probably have a whole collection of them in her room somewhere. All of which she got as gifts, most likely all made by Dee. Unless she somehow got her hands on some regular human ones, then they’d only be there for decoration. Since she can’t wield them for obvious reasons. Along with the other classic side weapons the ninja carry (I.e. throwing knives, smoke bombs, grappling hook, etc.)

- Has two male pet rats named Zeus and Poseidon. They are her babies and she will die for them. And they were a gift she received from her Granpapi Splinter, and yes it was an ironic gift and she loved it for that.

- Like her ma, she also thinks Greek and Egyptian mythology is super cool. It’s one of the few things she’ll totally geek over. Another good way to get on her good side, get her to talk about it or get her a gift involving it. Even if it’s simply watching a movie with her. She’ll adore it.

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lythea-creation · 2 years

Text

Tell me - Natasha Romanoff x fem insecure reader

Disclaimer: None of the Marvel characters belong to me.

Summary: After Natasha is severely injured during a mission, you become aware of your fear to lose her, which brings up old insecurities.

Warnings: Insecurities, past self-harm (mentioned), negative thoughts

Word count: 1679

Author's note: Feel free to check out my Masterlists and make requests. No reposting please! Reblogging, comments and requests are always appreciated <3 If you like the story/my writing, please don't be shy to say it via comments or asks! It takes you a few seconds and might make my day. It's the best appreciation you can show to a writer you like.

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You had never been able to understand how someone as incredible as Natasha could be interested in you, let alone love you. She was literally a damn superhero and you were just a medical aid for the actual doctors.

In the beginning you had brushed off her flirting with you as flirting for fun as it was nothing unusual for her to do. But as you two had spent more time together you had grown closer until Nat had finally asked you out.

Over time you had become more confident and the insecurities had vanished more and more. You felt like you could trust her despite her talent for manipulation.

Of course you two had ended up in some fights before but it had never been too serious. You had always been able to calm down and talk about the issue.

Your relationship had made you feel safe and Natasha had seemed to feel safe as well.

She had told you about her past, not in detail yet but she had entrusted you with her pain and fear.

What you had never expected was that Natasha was pretty insecure herself, although she was great at overplaying it.

One night when you two had been cuddling in your shared bed she had explained it to you. How she felt like a monster who did not deserve to be happy with you after everything she had done. How she was afraid that everything good in life was just a lie, an illusion created by manipulation of her mind.

You had assured her that your relationship was real and that she deserved to be happy. That everybody makes mistakes and that she was taking responsibility for them by risking her life to save others.

It felt absolutely real. You had stopped doubting your relationship, to wait for the grand blow-up, to think that one mistake you would make would destroy everything.

You could not imagine life without Natasha anymore. That was exactly why you were extremely upset when she returned from a mission seriously injured.

You took care of her, made sure she was as comfortable as possible at all times. But your sleep had turned into ruins. Nightmares were keeping you awake and the constant anxiety was taking a toll on you.

The only thing keeping you from breaking down was taking care of your girlfriend who was actually worried about you considering your obviously exhausted state.

But you brushed it off. You could not get yourself to tell her the truth. It felt stupid and pathetic to you after everything Natasha had already endured.

For the first time in months you felt like you had been before your relationship with Nat. Worthless, pathetic, weak. The hate for yourself was overwhelming making you even feel physically sick from time to time.

Why had Natasha chosen you? You felt utterly useless. You could not protect her. Instead of concentrating on her own recovery you were worrying her, turning her attention toward you. You did not want that, to feel like a burden again.

But you did not say a word about it, gulped down the pain and pretended you were just worried about Natasha's injuries. And you let her take on the next mission as soon as she was back on her feet. You could not hold Natasha back because you could not deal with your feelings.

Whenever she was back home you could not decide if you were happy and relieved or stressed out. It took a lot out of you not to distance yourself from her. Each hug and cuddle felt like you would take advantage of her, like you might hurt her by letting her hug you. It was almost suffocating. The pain was so intense.

You knew your thoughts were irrational, that Natasha still loved you and was excited when she could spend time with you. But despite not being true your emotions were real for you.

You had relapsed to your self-destructive behavior. You simply could not feel Natasha's love anymore although you knew it was still there.

“(f/n)? What the hell are you doing?”, Natasha questioned as she ripped the box out of your hand.

The box was transparent. So she could see the razor blades without opening it.

“I wasn't doing anything. I was just looking at them”, you assured her, not able to hide the emptiness of your voice.

“Why do you even have them?”, she inquired while looking down at you as she was standing next to your bed you were sitting on.

“Doesn't matter, Nat. It's not like I just hurt myself”, you brushed it off.

“Yes, it does matter.” She let out a sigh and sat down in front of you. “So why do you have them?”

Her hand moved to touch yours but you pulled away and averted her eyes.

“(f/n)” Her voice was unusually soft.

“They're old. It's been years since I used them the last time but the desire returns from time to time. It's soothing to hold them, to still have the chance to use them. It gives me some sense of control”, you admitted.

“Don't you love me anymore?”, she wondered.

That got you out of your apathetic state. “What? No! Of course I still love you!”

“Then what's up? You're obviously feeling bad and don't let me touch you in the simplest way”, she noted. “Please tell me.”

Reluctantly you met her eyes but only for a short moment. “It's stupid, Nat. I can't tell you.”

“It can't be stupid if it's bothering you so much”, she shot back.

A defeated sigh left your lips. “Fine then. It all started when you were severely injured.”

“But that's been four months ago! Did you hide your struggles from me all that time?”, she exclaimed shocked.

“Don't feel guilty for that. Even a psychiatrist once told me that she wouldn't have noticed that I was struggling if she had not known. I'm good at hiding my emotions”, you enlightened her. “Anyway after that mission my fear of losing you had grown significantly. I've had nightmares about it since then but couldn't bring myself to tell you. I didn't want to burden you. It's not like there is a solution in the first place because I would never even try to force you to stop doing your job. I know how important it is to you.”

Nat attempted once again to take your hand and this time you let her. The way she looked straight into your eyes did not give you any space to doubt yourself.

“I promise you to be more careful. You're right that I can't quit my job. It would tear us apart because we might both blame you for it at some point. But I will call you more often during my missions, okay? And you will start talking to me again. It doesn't burden me but shows that you trust me”, she reassured you. “Please don't hurt yourself”, she added with a whisper.

“Nat, I told you that I didn't”, you claimed.

“Maybe not with the blades but by tearing yourself down emotionally. You helped me to open up to you. Be a good role model.”

“Okay. I will try”, you promised.

“How about starting with telling me why your self-worth is so low?”, she suggested.

“Seriously?”, you grumbled. “It's some silly childhood trauma. Nothing compared to your past.”

Nat shook her head. “Different, not nothing.”

A defeated sigh left your lips. “I was a spoiled, gifted child. My parents took good care of me, actually too much care. Whenever I was trying something they were afraid, leading me to be the same. That's one point of my non-existent confidence in myself. I had always been great at academics, way too smart for my age. Everyone made sure to tell me how great I would become. On the other hand my social and physical skills sucked. My parents did basically everything for me and later on blamed me that I wasn't independent enough. Over time my academic skills didn't increase that quickly anymore and I started feeling like a failure because school has been everything I have been good at. My social and physical skills had started to improve but as I was still insecure I didn't recognize it that much. Personality wise I was used to get everything I wanted and not do anything for it. My parents taught me that. In the end my mom always expected the worst from me because that's what she gets most of the time, at least she says so despite my efforts to unlearn the bad habits they forced upon me. Oh and my friends have left me over the years, most of the time suddenly without an explanation. In one moment it felt like we were inseparable and the next I didn't exist for them anymore.”

Silence erupted as Nat needed a moment to take everything in you had just told her.

Suddenly a grin appeared on her face. “Did you ever take a look at yourself to see how much you've grown?”, she wondered.

“What?”, you replied irritated.

“You're a medical aid for the Avengers. You're in a stable relationship and living independently. You've quickly improved in fighting when I started teaching you and come along with all the other Avengers, not afraid to tease them and put them in place when needed to. Everybody feels that they can rely on you. You're not the person you used to be, (f/n). You don't need to make yourself feel smaller than you are.”

Tears immediately blurred your vision but you held them in.

Natasha cupped your cheek with her hand. “It's okay.”

You did not resist when she pulled you into her arms. You did not fight against the tears either. Natasha made you feel safe. You did not have to prove yourself. In front of her it was fine to be vulnerable.

#the avengers #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x fem reader #natasha romanoff x insecure reader #angst #fluff #romance #black widow #insecurities #injury #childhood trauma #mcu #trust #lgbtqia

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darlingpoppet · 9 months

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WIP Wednesday: Where The Dead Forget Ch 5 Snippet

I got tagged by @johaerys-writes last week to share something for WIP Wednesday, but since it was already well into Thursday in my timezone I waited to come back around the bend to post something for this week!

All of my current projects at the moment are still in the outline/rough draft stages so for today I decided to let myself be a little bit vulnerable and pull back the curtain to reveal what my extremely messy, repetitive, & badly worded rough drafts tend to look like (and even this was cleaned up a bit for public consumption, ha!) Here is a snippet of WTDF Chapter 5.

I think I’m supposed to tag folks, though I’m not sure how many… I suppose anyone who sees this is welcome to share their stuff? Just be sure to tag me so I can love on your efforts <3

***

The shades here can see him.

He encounters a group of them not so far in; they wear the armor of warriors and they are armed.

They notice the cloaked figure carrying a spear, and right away their ghostly colors are high, easily aroused by the prospect of a fight. Achilles does not quite understand/Achilles is not exactly/precisely familiar with their etiquette, but he is fairly certain/sure/he assumes the way he does not stop his advance is communicating to them an act of aggression.

One of them calls over to him. “How now, shade! Is it a fight you’re after?”

Achilles freezes/stills for a moment. He had not let his guard down, even despite the uneventful travels/journeys through the previous two realms, but he had been optimistic/hopeful there would be no need/it would not be necessary to fight his way through. He did not expect the aggression of these Elysian shades. Was this how they all behaved?

“I do not wish to fight,” he says/calls back loudly, still too far away for his voice to carry at a normal volume. He fingers at his/the hood which still conceals his face. “Let me pass.”

A warrior spits on the ground casually. “If you do not wish to fight, you would do well to put down that weapon of yours,” he says, baring his teeth.

“I will not. I do not intend to engage in deceit. I am here for another purpose.”

“Ah, perhaps you seek an audience with the champion? He accepts all challengers, but you have to prove yourself before you face him.”

“That is not why I am here. Let me pass.”

“We will not. Show yourself and what your skills are worth! Or are you afraid?”

Quickly Growing quickly weary of the posturing, Achilles gives a resigned sigh. “Very well,” he says.

He darts forward at once, and the hood of his cloak falls back, freeing his wild curls and revealing his face. He twists his features into something keen and wild and animalistic, sharp as the spearpoint he has hefted, ready/poised to bury itself into the throat of whoever among them is the most unfortunate.

The confident/arrogant expressions of the shades quickly shift/devolve/dissolve away into one shock and even fear.

“It is Achilles!” One shouts.

Suddenly, the jeers and growls of the shades/men/warriors are cut off like breath. They turn around and run.

Achilles feels a sort of wild, wicked pleasure at watching the shades/them flee from him. He had been hoping for this result, that just the smallest glimpse of his speed and ferocity would be enough to spook them. However, he is rather surprised that he is not only feared, but also recognized.

There is an unbidden/spontaneous shiver of pleasure that he gets at this realization. He tells himself it is because it means he is relieved that he does not have to fight them, and it is absolutely not because it appears his reputation precedes him still.

#wip wednesday #my fics #where the dead forget #did I give my long fic a tag before now?#oh well it has one now!#achilles #patrochilles #hades fanfic #hades patrochilles

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askthewhiteboard · 6 months

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Book n°1: Remnants from a fallen order (from AO3)

Grand inquisitor x non binary oc (Mie Cydd)

Index: ch 1 ch 2

Chapter 3: Basic

Teaching your executioner on your last moments might bring additional interests before one expires.

(+18 Disclaimer ! This chapter contains smut! Feel free to skip!)

. . .

Time flew, either out of nervousness or unsettling calm, you really couldn’t tell, spending hours with him, even after the night settled, teaching from the basic shapes of the letters to the accents and pronunciations of different dialects.

At least you managed to keep your datapad away most of the time, but he kept a very close eye to it, almost waiting for the perfect opportunity to take it.

For the whole time, the mood of the Inquisitor seemed good, cheerful, way too nice, his questions were patient and easy to answer, yet always keeping that calm and smug tone, which was way more manageable than you thought but still felt off.

You used the situation to study his face closer, his features were indisputably pau’an, however having met people of his species, you could tell he had many traits that looked more ‘human’: like his ridged skin being smoother than others you saw before, also was quite lighter and less veige or greyish, and his teeth were tamed, still sharp but unlike the usual jagged appearance that is more fashionable in his original culture. Even his face coincided more with the human beauty standards, something that you’re not sure how he must feel about, since there were mixed opinions in the different Pau’an cultures you’ve seen, however it was something that you personally liked.

Despite everything, you had to admit that he was quite attractive, the voice and personality only added to this dangerous feeling, like a carnivorous plan attracting its prey with sweet irresistible nectar. Had you met him in a club or somewhere in the academia, you would have surely approached, but this was the last place for these kind of interactions.

As you continued talking, you started to sense a knot in your stomach, feeling the uncomfortable weight of reality beginning to set in. The more you looked at him, the more you realised he had very different plans than the ones you thought of.

Even with his previous attitude, when you looked at him the expression barely changed, almost mocking you, knowing that you were completely cornered. You may share some interests, but you couldn’t afford to forget that he was the enemy, someone you should have avoided it instead of collaborating with, he was an exterminator of those force sensitive after all.

Too concentrated on any thoughts of being expelled over defense or violence, you completely forgot to think any more of this plan through; allowing him on your room and your files, totally exposing you. All under the delusion that he might let you go, which was quickly fading the more you thought about it, knowing that you would quickly pay a harsh price for such stupidity.

As you were finishing some annotations for him on your notebook, the total realisation of such thoughts quickly hit as you heard him rise from his seat and slowly get behind you. Your body quickly tensed up, making the knot in your stomach tighten out of anguish, hands trembling almost unable to hold the pen.

“From here on, you’re either going to kill or capture me won’t you?” You mumble, trying to gather some fragments of your already lost dignity before anything comes. He chuckled and withdrew his lightsaber, not turning it on yet.

“Im afraid that’s exactly the answer, whatever you were planning here wasn’t really thought through, fear alongside your bond with the force could be felt from miles, you made a complete fool of yourself pretending not to know. However, even with all of the previous mishaps, you still generate me so many questions that may be worth answering, the first one being what species do you even belong to.” He says, reaching to the side of your head, pulling a clip that you used to hide your elongated ears inside your hair. “Your ‘ears’ or whatever these are, poked out when I lowered your hood before. Not to mention that your face may pass as human to the ignorant citizens, but not to us, you were ridiculously careless.” He ends, now caressing the back of your neck with the spiked end of his circular saber.

Your mind was already clouded with embarrassment, but the mention of force sensitivity alerted you, as if it wasn’t already enough that the reports the Academia gave you were erroneous, and the advice which was supposed to help made things worse, now the most crucial thing that was meant to protect you probably didn’t work at all. “I don’t know why that lost language is your native tongue or how did you get your hands on a lightsaber proof weapon. But, for the time being, a force sensitive suspect was asked for, and I am going to follow my orders first.” You looked down onto the floor, trying to organise your thoughts while listening to his monologging.

”It’s a shame that my rowdy coworker rushed our plans and got the original target to flee, it would have been entertaining to investigate you in private-”

“Wait!” You say in a rush of courage, or recklessness, whatever it was. If you were going, thanks to the last comment that caught your interest, maybe you might be able to do so on your own terms. “How much time do you have left until we need to go?”

He raised a brow at the question.

“Why do you want to know that?” He says with confusion. “Attempting to delay is useless.”

“I know, believe me, I’ve come to terms with it and I accept it. But I mean, you’re attractive, and as much conflict as we have I really do not dislike you, for the moment of course. Think about it, everything that was supposed to go smoothly with no trouble dragged me into this situation, you saw my fiasco before, and if I’m honest, no matter what I do at this point, none of the paths end well for me. If im really about to go, I might as well enjoy some of my last minutes don’t you think?” You say with nothing left to loose, for a fraction of a second, he seemed to be surprised, understanding the nature of the question immediately, with his eyes widening, before returning to his previous grin and laughing ominously at your sudden request.

“Here I thought that I was done with you! This was the last thing I expected, definitely not a bad request. But, as good as the offer looks, what makes you think I am interested in it?” he says still chuckling, but seemingly willing to listen.

“Well, if you wished to investigate me… there’s many things you cannot see when we are deceased or under heavy stress.”

“Oh please, enlighten me.”

Having said that, you take off one of your gloves, revealing a hand with what seemed to be bright yellow fingertips with another singularity, no nails or claws.

“Watch.”

Extending the palm for him to see better, your skin contracted and quickly changed from the previous brown tan skin, to a greyish white motif with faint lines on it, imitating the Inquisitor’s patterns almost perfectly, least for the fingertips that remained yellow. He stepped closer, inspecting the new pattern closely.

“What are you? Some sort of chameleon or shapeshifter?” He says with curiosity.

“Im afraid not, and I really cannot hold this for too long, especially as dry as my skin is right now, amphibian would be closer to your definition. Our cells are able to contract and reflect light in different positions, changing color voluntarily, however it’s similar to a muscular motion and we can only hold it for a certain time, usually to camouflage or communicate, it’s like brow moving but it has a double use. When we die, these cells relax completely, losing any color and becoming an almost transparent white.”

After you finished your explanation, still holding the lightsaber, he took off one of his gloves and extended his free hand, you extended yours, allowing him to hold it. Running his fingers through your palm, he felt the texture of your skin. The act of made blood rise to your cheeks, not knowing where this would take you, but forgetting the previous disaster and focusing on the moment.

“Let me see the other” he requests with a neutral tone, letting go of your hand.

Leaving his weapon on the table to take the other glove off, you did the same, extending now both hands to him, back to their original skin color. He held them close, tracking each line and wrinkle.

“No nails?” He says moving to the tips of your fingers. “How do you get around with these?”

“Take a closer look.”

He rubbed the tips of your fingers, feeling the harder rougher textures of the tips and revealing a small pad under them.

“Are all of your extremities like this?”

“The hands are softer, due to bipedal evolution, the feet are way rougher, made to walk on harsh surfaces and stick to them more easily, the coloration remains the same though.”

“Is this color somewhere else?”

“Yes.” with that you took one of your sleeves and gently scrubbed off the little makeup you applied to your lips, nose bridge and eyelids, revealing their matching yellow. Along came with two small nubs on each side of your nose, easily passable for piercings.

Putting his hands on each side of your head, you allowed him to inspect your facial features caressing every area tinted by that unusual color. You felt his touch getting warmer with each second that passed, and the atmosphere of the room thicker with each breath both of you took.

Getting to the ears, gently pulling back the hair partially covering them, you couldn’t help but lightly tremble at the sudden exposure.

“Why the shape?” He says outlining the yellow line on the edges.

“They are primarily made to listen in both land and water, the shape is to protect the tympanum from dehydration and other airborne bacteria. If we spend more time out of the planet, we usually need a special aid that adapts the sound waves and maintain the humidity level, it’s not vital but makes things easier. I unfortunately wasn’t able to afford a pair. So as you saw before, I got too close because I couldn’t hear well-“ your nervous explanations were cut by another shiver after he touched their backs, making the nerves tingle.

“Are they sensitive?”

“… Yes, pretty much.” You say, regarding your composure. “That’s why the hair also

covers them most of the time.”

“What about the mouth?”

“Could you pass me that water bottle inside of my backpack?”

The inquisitor pointed his palm towards the bag, making the bottle levitate to his hand and passing it to you. You took a small sip and let the water sit in your mouth for a few seconds, getting rid of a red dye that you applied previously for your human ‘costume’.

Having swallowed, you open again, showing yet again the yellow color that he previously saw, now inside your mouth. He held your head close, setting his thumbs close to your lips.

“So it’s yellow too, I noticed fangs, do you mind if I check your teeth?”

“Of course not, go on.”

Opening your mouth with his hands again, he inspected it closely, watching what at first seemed like a human set of teeth, only a bit bigger than average, reveal eight short fangs and less sharp molars behind.

This was certainly getting weird, and it’s not like you could refuse, but surprisingly, you did not dislike the sensation.

“This is odd, what is your species diet?”

“Omnivore, although we’re more prone to fish, shellfish and seaweed.”

“I see” he finishes closing your mouth.” Is there anything else that Im missing out?”

“Yes, one last thing.” You say putting your hands under your eyelids with caution, taking off the pair of full contact lenses you were wearing. After them appeared two dark purple scleras with bright teal irises, crowned by U shaped pupils. Your eyes may be the most unusual part of yourself, but you doubted that would be a problem with the inquisitor, bearing some resemblance to his.

No questions this time, he just moved your head closer to look at your eyes, sickly yellow meeting your greenish blue hue, only inches apart from each other. It was a heavy stare, like he was trying to look in the deepest parts of you, read you like an obscure book.

And such was beginning to turn some switches, as the heat in your face made you go numb, maybe it was some sort of hypnosis their lot used.

“So… about my previous offer… What is your final statement?”

“No need for any fancy words dear, you already know the answer.”

In actuality you didn’t know, but little you had to think before he closed the distance between you, clashing your lips against his. Perhaps it was your appearance that was exotic to him, maybe he wished to toy with you until the end, or, maybe he was thinking about this the moment he stepped into the room, way too many options passed your head.

Muting any more thoughts, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, returning the kiss. On the other side, the inquisitor had one hand running through your hair and another roaming down your body, grabbing your waist to secure his grip on you.

Tightening the hold on your hair, he pulled your head back to deepen the kiss, parting your mouth and exploring as wished, both being mindful of your teeth. His lips were rougher than yours, but just the right amount to make it enjoyable, you found yourself moaning muffled sounds while he devoured your mouth like it was the last thing on this planet.

In part you expected this, it was the main point of this maneuver, however it still was shocking, this man knew how to kiss, perhaps too well, despite any isolated life he may have lived until now.

Separating momentarily and letting go of your locks, he lifted you by the hips and sat on the edge of the bed, settling you on his lap, before going back to ravishing your lips. His kisses became more aggressive, biting and sucking in a hungry manner. Feeling a tingling sensation between your legs already, you began to slowly grind on him, trying to get the tiniest bit of friction.

He seemingly encouraged you to do so, by thrusting slightly to better meet your movements, as he began lifting your shirt. Raising your arms you took off that piece of clothing, also removing a chest band in the process and letting your breast free.

“Just one question.” He said, stopping to glance at your chest. “I don’t know if you’re familiar with my anatomy, but I am certainly new with yours, so you’ll need to explain before anything.”

“Alright then but I’ll make it quick and only once:” you say frowning with a bit of annoyance, as your attentions were suddenly cut. “My species is mammal, in shape mostly resembles humanoids, but has both sexes, and we change accordingly to either have children, or to personal decision.

One way or the other, even in between if the person wants, everyone always retains breast fat unless it’s purposely removed. Except for the case where someone has remained with the same sex of choice for a very long period of time, we barely have any external dimorphism-“ You were interrupted by his leg briefly bouncing between yours, making you jump with a short moan before continuing the explanation. “-And lastly, I know my way around your species, and, I have most of the female side now so I work like regular a human or pau’an with the same.

So there, you happy with that?” You finish nervously, waiting to go back to your previous activity.

“More than glad.” He says grinning and grabbing the back of your head. “Now back to business.” He finishes, pulling you again into a passionate kiss, while he roamed your naked torso, massaging your breast like a new discovery.

Meanwhile, you resumed grinding against his leg, feeling yourself growing aroused as much as him, or at least that’s what you could feel when coming close to his crotch. He gradually moved to your neck, attacking the sensitive skin there and more than willing to leave marks.

Allowing yourself to be distracted by that sensation, the Inquisitor bit down, not going deep but enough to break the skin, you yelped at the sudden pain, but quickly got over it as his warm tongue began to lap at the blood that seeped out.

Quietly whimpering, you were attempting to satisfy the bolts of arousal given by the latter, however, grinding wasn’t enough anymore, you needed more, but you wouldn’t beg yet. You tried evening the scale and move forward by also taking some of his clothes off but he caught both of your wrists before you could even do anything.

“I am sorry, but besides what is necessary, everything else it’s staying on.” He said with a stern tone.

“Come on, it’s not fair!” You say tilting your head back playfully with a bit of disappointment. The inquisitor seemed amused by your reaction, though you understood, taking the armor off would be too much of a fuss, and also, you might have been stupid before but he wouldn’t make the same mistake as you and disarm himself. Still, you allowed yourself to banter a bit. “Even that obnoxious cape? Isn’t it heavy? It’ll get in the way!”

“Oh, trust me, it won’t.” He concludes going back to the previous mood. Choosing to go with that you continued, this time opting for a different strategy, dismounting his leg and sinking to your knees right at the height of the bed edge.

“Hoping then~” You say teasingly, lowering your eyes to face the imposing bulge straining his pants. “That this is part of the essential.”

With no words but an encouraging hand to your head, you undid his belt and pulled the zipper down, pushing just enough to free his already hard cock.

Despite trying to hide behind a smug facade, it looked like you weren’t the only one here eager for action. You saw his people’s physiology before: ridged like the rest of skin and smooth purplish grey at the tip, but you were sure this was way bigger than average.

Imagining the future, you wrapped your hand around it and gave a few initial pumps. In response you got a tighter hold onto your scalp, and a shallow breath coming out of your partner. With that as enough approval to go on, you gave an open mouthed kiss to the tip and licked the bead of precum emerging thanks to the stimulation. Tasting the salty fluid, you trace lines with your wet lips across his member further teasing, before completely enveloping it with your mouth.

An audible groan echoed across the room, his length twitched as your mouth sled further. The inquisitor thrust his hips against you, pushing your head down on him, almost making you gag at the sudden intrusion, a sign that your task was going smoothly.

Bracing his legs for better support, you sucked diligently, being careful not to hurt him with your back teeth. He rocked along with your rhythm, using the grip onto your hair as a guide, while attempting to stifle any sounds he made. Looking up, you could see him fluster, covering with mouth with the back of his hand, the crimson of his markings saturating further, slightly extending to a purplish hue around his face.

This man was interesting, part of the cult that glorified suffering, but does not miss the opportunity to enjoy himself with carnal interests. You didn’t know how the Sith behaved these days but you did read somewhere that apparently they encourage some sort sexual intimacy, as a way to blow off steam and anger. Having not dug further since it wasn’t of your interest at the moment, now you were wondering under what rules worked this tradition.

“Fuck!”

Him cursing out wasn’t something you expected, but it certainly made the ache between your legs grow stronger. Bobbing your head, trying to take in as much as you could, you felt him twitch again, he was probably close. Just before anything could continue, he pulled your hair back, abruptly making you separate with an audible pop the moment your mouth left his cock.

“Enough, this isn’t about me, you’re the one losing time.” He said with a hint of strain in his voice, dragging you by the arm and throwing you to the soft mattress. Kicking off your boots, he got rid of your pants, taking the underwear too, before peeling you of any last items.

“Oh? Were you that close already?” You teased, grinning at his irritated reaction. He grabbed your face making you directly face him.

“Watch your words harlot.”

Hearing him use such an old fashioned insult made you unable to contain your laughter, giggling as he frowned, increasing his annoyance at your actions.

He released your face only to pin your arms against the bed and slam his mouth against yours with hunger, muffling any sound that came out of you, this time more with more passion than the others. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he tried to eat you alive, almost desperately, you were enjoying every second of it.

Letting one arm free, he lowered his hand to finally touch your neglected cunt, pushing two fingers in and pressing his thumb on your clit. You squirmed and tried to get more movement, but he made sure to go slow, so your neediness grew each tortuous second.

He entered a third finger, brushing a spot that made you jolt in pleasure, by your reaction it seemed that he found what he was looking for. Attacking that specific place, he scissored his fingers, stretching and preparing for what was coming, deafening your whining in the kiss.

Collecting yourself, with one hand still pinned down to the bed, you used the other to cup his face, gently caressing him like he did before to you. He leaned onto the touch, apparently enjoying it, you moved to the ear covering, outlining the edge before he stopped you briefly, a string of saliva connecting your mouths.

“Please, don’t touch these, but keep going like before.” He said softly, almost out of place, asking yourself if he was actually into softer play, but let the question go without answer. You nodded with half lidded eyes, going back to the kiss and moving your hand back.

The inquisitor’s attentions were bringing you closer to your breaking point, fingering your now soaked pussy relentlessly. One particular stroke to your clit made you tense up, pleasure washing over you like a sudden wave, you grabbed onto his shoulder, while your whole body spasmed, moaning loudly into his mouth.

After the bliss had passed, the inquisitor took his fingers out, leaving you empty. You watched as he liked them clean, later pulling yowu in one last kiss, tasting yourself on it. As soon as he was done, he backed off, any whimpering in protest stopped when he began spreading your legs.

Something poked you, looking down, you saw him grinding his length against you, painfully hard and leaking again, mixing your juices with his. However he stopped right there, and instead stared at you, expecting something, he wanted you to beg for more.

You probably looked like a mess, arms sprawled, completely naked, flustered, with swollen lips and dizzy look. Adding that with all the pulling, your hair may look like you were tazed. Despite promising mentally that you wouldn’t drag yourself lower, the excitement was just too much, you wanted this.

You needed him, now.

“Please…” you muster, sounding desperate. The Inquisitor’s expression turned into a devilish grin, looking at you like a predator would at its wounded prey.

“What was that dear? I couldn’t hear you.” He replies with a mocking tone, rubbing himself against you a bit more.

“Don’t do that now… I need you…” you say pouting, to no avail, he didn’t budge.

“You’ll need to be more clear in what you want.”

“Come on!” Your dignity was already tarnished, nothing else you could lose. “Please! I want you to fuck me already!” You pleaded, not being able to withstand any further teasing. He chuckled at your desperation, aligning himself to your entrance, and pushing in slowly.

“See? That wasn’t so difficult.”

Giving no answer you gasped at the intrusion, feeling his size stretch your walls delightfully. Grabbing onto the sheets, you arched your back, curling your toes as he sank further inside you, feeling every ridge and vein slip in.

“You’re quite tight, for someone who’s quick to jump into bed with strangers.” The Inquisitor said with hints of difficulty in his voice, while delving into you.

“I am literally about to be executed, I’m not wasting any time left.” You replied, trying to keep a stable tone. Once he was down to the hilt, he stayed there, allowing you to adjust and feeling you throb around him in excitement. As he got a better hold of your hips, he pulled out, and sled back home, thrusting slowly until he found a good rhythm.

He picked up a steady pace, accompanied by both of your breaths of pleasure. Stretching an arm to him, you urged him to come closer. Surprisingly, the inquisitor obliged, holding onto your hand and pining it back against the bed, moving on top of you. Not stopping his increasingly faster thrusts, or letting go of your hip.

“So, you’re not afraid of death?” He teased, slowing down only for an instant.

“Not really… Could be worse.” You manage to say between whimpers.

“Cannot disagree dear.”

Not the best topic to talk about so it was better keept short, you pulled him in a messy kiss, in which he gladly returned, stealing your breath away as you both rocked your hips in unison. One particular hit reached the same spot as before, eliciting desperate moaning from you.

“Oh~ Inquisitor!” you manage to say, curling your legs tighter and tugging at his cape, hanging onto him like a lifeline. “There please! Go faster!”

Instead of a replying, the inquisitor suddenly lifted you from the bed, still inside you, and slammed you on the cold table, knocking off everything it had, his lightsaber hit the floor with a loud clanking noise. Perhaps it was the impatience or the loss of time.

Clutching your hips with enough strength to leave marks, he began pounding mercilessly into you, making obscene wet noises. Any inner speech was completely shut off, as your mind became overwhelmed.

Crying out in ecstasy at such a brutal pace, you felt his cock hitting your cervix and many other wonderful places, tensing up at every instance.

As you began to get close to your limit , his thumb pressed again on your clit, feeling as if electricity was running through your body.

Screaming incoherences between languages, your whole body stiffened, shaking as you came on his hand, pulsing around him while he kept going.

His thrusts became more erratic as he too got close, speeding up until he finished. He groaned rather loudly, filling you with his warm seed, riding his last traces of orgasm. It was uncertain whether you could get pregnant from this or not, but that hardly ever mattered in that moment.

Both sweating and breathing heavily, you regain any wits left, while staring at each other in silence. Even after this, the clarity didn’t settle quite yet, time stopping around you. Words weren’t needed for this moment, nor questions, your glances spoke for themselves.

The Inquisitor pulled out, avoiding looking directly at you when doing his pants and putting his gloves back on, while you incorporated to sit on the table in utmost silence. Seconds passed, and none of you moved an inch, perhaps not wanting to continue with the aftermath.

Before anything could progress, he leaned closer, cupping your face and giving you one final kiss. It was very different, there wasn’t any aggressiveness, it was done so affectionately that it was totally out of character for him.

Whichever was the reason for this, there was a warmth on it that you couldn’t resist, despite feeling the now leathery texture of his hands, like a soft blanket after a snowy day, you wondered why did this sensation come from a cold blooded imperial assassin.

Slightly tilting your head, you embraced him in a similar manner, as some type of makeshift aftercare. You stayed like that for a few minutes, enjoying those fleeting moments.

“Consider that my final goodbye.” He murmured after separating, no arrogance, no tease in his voice, it was time.

“Mine too I suppose, thank you for this. “ You said with little thought, getting down from the table, his lightsaber quickly returned to his hand, like an omen of misfortune. Glancing at him, he almost looked sad, but it was his job after all.

You kneeled on the floor, still completely naked, and pushed your hair aside, leaving the back of your neck exposed.

“Are you ready?”

“…Yes”

With those last words, you lowered your head, waiting for the deathly slash of the weapon, not willing to fight anymore or think about anything else but accepting your defeat.

However, such thing never came, instead, you felt a blunt hit to the back of your head, you didn’t even feel the pain, just your vision blurring and getting increasingly numb. Before losing consciousness completely, you saw the shadow of a hand approaching your discarded datapad.

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