#patience mount

[ansonmountdaily]

Captain's log, supplemental. Ours problems seem to have doubled. We started our day with one time traveler and now we have two, which is… a lot.

Star Trek: Strange New Worlds/Lower Decks crossover

STAR TREK: STRANGE NEW WORLDS 2x07 "Those Old Scientists"

[fully-embracing-my-autopsy]

Nurse Patsy (Patience) Mount

<3

Lesbian/Sapphic: she is one herself. Of course she'd be accepting

Gay/Achillean: she's a lesbian, of course she'd be accepting

Any flavor of mspec: she'd be accepting

Asexual and aromantic: she's a bit of a romantic with her girlfriend, so she may not understand, but she'd probably accept it

Trans (binary): she'd want to know why you would want to live as a different gender than how you were born, but I think she'd accept it

Trans (not binary): it would take a little more understanding/explanation but she'd probably come around. Mind you she's living as a closeted lesbian so she'd know what it's like to not be able to live as your true self

Intersex: I'm pretty sure she'd be accepting if you told her about it

Xenogenders/neopronouns: I think she'd want to understand/accept, I'm not sure she would entirely

They/them: same as xeno/neo

CTM characters and LGBTQ+ identities: what are their stances/are they supportive

S1 Characters

Please note this is my personal take and if you disagree that's fine but please don't come to this post if you're just going to argue with me

Nurse Jenny Lee

Lesbian/sapphic: I think she'd be okay with it. It'll take her some adjusting at first, but given time I think she'll be okay

Lesbians who don't use she/her: might not understand it but if it's what works for you she's chill

Bisexual: "wait hold on I think that's me" once you've explained it to her

Pansexual/polysexual/omnisexual/mspec: "there's more than one kind of attraction like this?" She'd be fine with it

Gay/Vincian/Achillean: same as lesbian

Trans: it'll take her some time, but if she adjusted easily from calling Sister Bernadette to calling her Shelagh, I think she won't have any issues not deadnaming you. Might take a little more effort gendering you correctly, but she tries

Nonbinary/agender/genderqueer/any flavor of not binary trans identities: same as trans. Might struggle a little more with understanding genderfluid peeps

Intersex: I'd love to say she'd be accepting. Maybe later seasons Jenny, but not season one. (I think this was s2) but there was a baby born with CF and she looked so uncomfortable. She would take a long time to understand. She'll want to understand, have a million questions about how a baby can be born like this. Of course it's not always visible or obvious that a baby isn't perisex, but if she were to find out after doing her routine checkups on the newborn. Ngl, she'd probably suggest corrective surgery in instances it calls for it. She means well, but doesn't understand how harmful it is. Even after having it explained. Older Jenny (narrator) would probably understand it better

Xenogenders: she wouldn't understand. She might accept it and say you do you, or might look at you strangely and try to limit her interactions but still be polite to your face and then talk about it with Trixie and Cynthia, wondering how someone could identify like that

Same with neopronouns and they/them pronoun users

I get the feeling she'd have an easier time with binary trans people :(

Asexual and aromantic spec ppl: I think she'll find demiromantic and demisexual and latch onto it. This one I'm sure she'd understand and accept

[sci-bax]

Yall ive drawn Starlo 15 times in the last 7 hours am i cooked

[marenwithanm]

On the topic of fallen humans designs guess what I found

These are my old fallen humans designs 🤣 the right one is from different eras in history because I thought the monsters were underground for much longer than most people do, but I can't get over the fact that preservance is just??? Steve Urkel???? Apparently he was just the Pinnacle of the 70s to me or something??? And don't get me started on the fact that bravery is somehow from the Renaissance era

[quirkle2]

the strong strong STRONG urge to get elden ring. but knowing for a fact i'd get so so SO fucking mad

[impossible-rat-babies]

the doom posting that comes around whenever a cash shop outfit comes out is deeply obnoxious at this point ngl

[jflashandclash]

Axel: Into the Lion’s Maw VII

The rest of the walk back was, admittedly, a little awkward. Axel didn’t mean to make Ethan go so pale or shut up so abruptly.

However, if he said he wasn’t proud of the Leonis Caput’s charm, he would be lying.

He and Ethan stepped through an archway of gold. The room on the other side was still illuminated with turquoise fire.

A cheer erupted. “It’s the Lion!” someone shouted.

“They didn’t leave us!”

From a glance over, Axel saw anger replace Ethan’s fear. His scowl returned. Someone, Axel suspected, didn’t like being rescued.

After their heart-to-heart, Axel wasn’t going to let Ethan out of his sight. Nor was he going to waste a moment where another hostile deity could appear. He was impressed Ailiseu had kept everyone corralled within his turquoise flames. These soldiers didn’t need to discover that the flames were nothing more than light tricks that Uncle Frasco had taught him to use in the circus.

“Get in two lines, side-by-side,” Axel said, pacing back and forth in front of them to establish the start of the lines. Like herding his siblings. “Everyone hold onto the person in front of you. Keep your weapon in your other hand. No one goes off alone—is that clear?” There were nods of understanding as the troop scrambled to obey. “If you hear Mary, do not engage.”

Axel pivot turned to face the golden-arched doorway. “And Mary,” he called, in the event the goddess had perked back up, “You are not to approach my troops without explicit permission.”[1]

“Kronos’ troops,” Ethan growled.

Axel glared. “Once we rejoin.” Then, they would be Kronos’ troops again. Until then, Axel pointed beside him. “You’re leading the second column.” To the others, “Protect your side of the column!”

He glanced around the floor for a dim glow. Not through the golden archway. Not through the silver one. This was going to make him look really stupid if he got them all organized to play Guess Which Way Leads to Death. He did have—what had Ethan called it? Clear vision? Right?

Something touched his neck—or hadn’t yet?—he saw a flicker of finger movement, felt the caress moments after, and saw the echo of the hand before it vanished. Three transparent white gloves that blurred into one: Hecate.

Always here to give a third option, the helm mused.  

Axel couldn’t respond. His knees had gone weak, but he couldn’t reveal that in front of the other demigods.

Hecate had trace up to his chin, tilting his head up.

There, above them, the roof was glowing with a Greek D.

Axel shook off the phantom sensation, unsure if it had been real. “Excuse me,” he said to Ailiseu, borrowing their pilum. He tapped the symbol.

A retractable ladder popped out of the ceiling, joints groaning as it extended. Demigods exclaimed and ooed. He used the pilum to tug it down within reach, thinking, no matter how badly he wanted to, it might look undignified to jump for the bottom rung. As though constructed by the Fates, the ladder was wide enough to accommodate two people at once. He just hoped it was strong enough.

He felt a hand touch his shoulder. This time, it wasn’t a crazed goddess or his friend’s godly mother. It was Ailiseu, nodding their head gravely. He handed them back the pilum. “Thank you.”

Behind them and behind Ethan, the demigod soldiers had lined up appropriately. They had expressions of scared hopefulness.

Was that a good attitude to take into battle?

Say something.

At times like this, Axel wished they had a better name for themselves. Camp Half-Blood had “campers” or “Greeks.” Camp Jupiter had “legionaries” or “Romans.” Kronians sounded too much like cronies. When Pax had suggested “Tambourines” for Mount Tam, Axel stopped the conversation before it caught on. They were a blend of nationalities and godly ancestry. Axel wasn’t even a demigod: the one thing the rest of them shared. What brought them together?

He cleared his throat, tilted up his chin, and projected the way Uncle Frasco had taught him.

“We were forgotten. We were abandoned. Neglected. Abused,” he glanced down the two columns, hoping each soldier felt seen. “Camp Half-Blood worships our abusers. They pay tribute at every meal to those who tormented us or left us to torment.”

One of the newer demigods raised his sword and shouted, “Fuck those guys!”

There came a cheer.

Axel grinned fiercely. He raised his own sword in salute. “We fight for Camp Othrys! We fight for freedom from tyranny!” Cheers continued between each sentence. “We will defeat those that defend the practice of dictators!” Axel remembered Pax telling him how boring it got when he speechified about tyranny and oppression and how he should keep it simple unless he was speaking with Witch Boy.

So, to finish off, he shouted, “Let’s go kick their asses!”

The tunnel echoed with a roar of approval and agreement.

As Axel and Ethan each placed a foot on the ladder, relieved to find it held their weight and that of the demigods behind them, the Leonis caput added, “I will lead us into battle!”

***

*Jack crawls from the grave to set this as a tiny offering to its followers’ shrine before crawling back into its grave to seek out a juicier offering for next time*

Thank you for reading! I hope all of you enjoyed! Hopefully, in two weeks, I’ll have the next installment in this segment for Into the Lion’s Maw. Thank all of you so much for your comments, artwork, support and patience! I keep thinking things are going to settle down and they might be soon!

***

Footnotes:

[1] Original draft, for those of you interested: “Everyone hold hands. I don’t want ANYONE going off on their own. Is that clear? I do not want anyone to listen to Mary here without first okaying it with me. Mary, you’re going to be integral in us getting out of here. Can you hold onto my hand.”

Axel offered her the severed bone hand.

She gleefully clenched it, immediately snapping a finger off.

[paleiido]

Trying to learn new programs like they all want me to die personally

[enemylasagnaaaaa]

bro

i hate art block

[kiose]

Hope you're doing well currently. Do you think Lysithea would have a white horse or a black horse? Either color would fit her well, but I was curious what horse color do you prefer? Mind if I share a few headcanons;

Lysithea would actually have poor/bad horsewomanship/riding habits at first, like blaming her horses for mistakes/using harsh tack/overuse of riding aids/use of riding aids as punishment instead of encouragement, but thanks to Leonie, she starts and fully embraces kinder horsewomanship as she gets better at riding.

Lysithea loves giving her horses (sometimes too many) sugar cubes (and eating some sugar cubes for herself).

Lysithea's horses' names would be moon related.

Leolysi have double horseback riding dates with Marihilda.

Lysithea would be a Dressage Queen/Master.

Lysithea's horses are draft horse breeds.

Lysithea sometimes goes horseback riding with Edelgard.

Her horse has chewed on Lysithea's hair at least twice.

That's all I got. What do you think?

Heya! My wrist's been acting up a bit, but other than that I'm good…well, more than good because ya shared all this quality headcanons with me so I am THRIVING Hope you're doing good as well ✨✨✨

While I feel like a white horse would be cool because it would go well with Lys color scheme (and as far as I know white horses are very RARE, so that's even cooler) there's a part of me that feels Lysithea would be a riot with a black horse, I offer this for consideration:

"This is Zelgius, their coat is as black as my soul and their diet consists on the souls of my enemies" (edgy Lysithea is canon, Warriors more than confirmed it) But gotta admit, a white horse with a moon-related name would kick ass as well.

I don't think Lysithea would consider getting a horse on her own, so I find very funny the idea of Lysithea being forced to ride a horse, like either Byleth asked her to, to increase her mobility on the battlefield or something and Lysithea trying hard to pretend taking care of the horse is a chore but the horse she gets is too cute and she starts to warm up to them 🐴✨ (of course she would carry around sugar cubes and pretend they're for her horse, but when no one's looking she eats some too).

I can absolutely see Lysithea seeing her horse as a tool at first and treating them like such, expecting it to perform like a machine instead of a living creature and being frustrated when the horse can't do that (of course that's not outta malice, but because she pushes herself to the highest standard, I could really see her getting frustrated when her mount --which should act like an extension of her-- is not meeting said standards). Also she would probably be mystified that Leonie can almost effortlessly make the horse do what she asks (Leonie might not be able to talk to horses like Marianne, but that proficiency in horse riding is nothing to scoff at). The moon-related names was something I hadn't considered either, but it's also pretty fun to think about (I could see it starting because Lysithea named a horse Luna, after the dark magic spell, but people thinking it's because of the actual moon and suddenly Lysithea is just rolling with it).

The Leolysi-Marihilda double date idea is EXCELLENT, may I suggest adding, Hilda getting competitive over Marianne being "better at handling horses" and Lysithea defending Leonie's horsemanship and both of them heatedly discussing who's better, while Leonie and Marianne are busy tending to the horses. I could really see Hilda just bringing up the topic to tease Lysithea (I cannot see them having boring or peaceful double dates, they're probably a riot hahaha).

Also, I really love Edie and Lysithea just using horseback riding as an excuse to get away from the castle and just spend some time alone together in a peaceful place (maybe even pack some cake to eat afterwards). I could see them just doing it on a whim, but also scheduling horseback riding expeditions specifically after having stressful weeks.

That last hc about Lysithea's horse chewing on her hair gave me such a cute mental image, I could see someone else (Leonie, probs) touching a lock or hair for some reason and Lysithea slapping the hand as a reflex because that's what she does whenever her horse starts trying to chew on her hair.

Some people severely underestimate the power of receiving cute headcanons in the askbox, but this honestly gave me so much cute things to think about, it fueled me an filled me with so much energy (like again, that thing about Lysithea practicing dressage is amazing and I love it to death now).

Again, thank ya so much for dropping by the askbox to share this extremely good stuff with me, for real, I'm grateful I might be real slow at answering but I don't mind ya sharing further thoughts or headcanons if ya feel like it. Thanks again and take care!

P.S. - I just want ya to know that this ask inspired another drawing but I got carried away with it, so I'm taking a bit more time with it and uploading it on its own, so I hope ya manage to see it when it gets posted.

[ms-mediocre]

i cant listen to bad "romance" anymore because of the wretched creature lughenny

Have you ever listened to a song parody that permanently affected how you listen to the original?

[hauntedphase]

our ally today told us that pandora finally located the sealing stone on their grounds. i don't know why they're being so cruel about Fianna's, but i do think i understand why they kept rescheduling on me.

[kdmiller55]

A Loss of Appetite for God’s Ways

1 And the people complained in the hearing of the Lord about their misfortunes, and when the Lord heard it, his anger was kindled, and the fire of the Lord burned among them and consumed some outlying parts of the camp. 2 Then the people cried out to Moses, and Moses prayed to the Lord, and the fire died down. 3 So the name of that place was called Taberah, because the fire of the Lord burned…

[bi-writes]

I love the mail order bride !! Can we see her trying to get a job or school something and Simon getting offending thinking he doesn’t have enough to support her ??

mail-order bride

he would not be offended if you wanted to do something for yourself; but he would be offended if you felt you were required to.

you pick up your blazer out of the closet, fitting it over your shoulders and buttoning it. you check your hair and your makeup one more time in the mirror before making your way into the living room, where simon still is, tools laid out at his feet as he uses a level and a pencil on the wall.

you clear your throat, knocking on the doorway gently.

"s-simon?" you ask gently. he grunts in response, marking a place on the wall, and you shuffle on your feet as you try to calm your stuttering breath. "i...can i ask for a favor?"

"can ask me for anythin'."

you purse your lips, "uhm...i need a ride."

"where ya wanna go?"

you play with your hands, rocking back and forth on your heels. he's still facing the wall, dark sleeves rolled up as he lifts a wooden block to the wall and starts to mount it there. he's putting up floating shelves you think, but the block of wood is very short in length. odd.

"i...have a job interview," you say softly. "it's in a half an hour. i...have to leave now to be on time. i'm..." you close your eyes, flinching. "i'm sorry, they only just called me, i-i should've given you more time--"

"why are you apologizin'?" he asks, setting his things down. he turns around to face you, and you open your eyes again, biting your lip. he comes closer, making you look up at him, and he narrows his eyes at you. "just said they only just called ya. so 's not y'r fault."

you open your mouth to say something, but he just brushes past you to head towards the door, grabbing his rain jacket and slipping it on. he flips the hood up over him after he shrugs his balaclava on, and he meets your eyes where you stand there oogling at him.

"well?" he raises a brow. "get y'r shoes on."

you scramble to go slip your boots on, picking up your purse by the door. simon opens the front door, revealing the misty rainy weather that's emerged since the morning. simon opens up an umbrella, making his way down the steps, and you follow him. he stops you before you come down, holding his hand out, and when he gets to the bottom of the steps, he holds his hand out for you.

you take his hand gently and let him guide you down the steps, and you're startled when he appears at the passenger side door of his truck. he holds the umbrella over you, opening the door for you, and he holds your hand again as you get settled before he shuts it behind you.

the drive is quiet. the rain falls hard, but simon is unbothered. you clutch the seatbelt a little bit as he drives--you don't want to be ungrateful, but simon sometimes makes a turn too sharp and brakes a little too hard. he sometimes has a hard time staying in his lane, too, but you just squeak and try not to be too loud when he swerves into a parking space crooked at a 45-degree angle.

simon opens the door for you, holding the umbrella and taking your hand again to help you onto the pavement. he walks you to the door, humming lowly, and he tilts his head to the side as you open the door.

"'ow long will y'be?" he asks, and you shrug.

"i-i don't know. maybe an hour?"

simon huffs a little, "olright. y'call me when y'r done."

you nod, about to go in, and he stops you again, big hand on your elbow.

"just..." he sighs deeply, looking anywhere but into your eyes. "good luck."

simon doesn't leave. he sits in his truck in the parking lot, eyes narrowed at the door of the building you just went inside of. his leg bounces underneath him, and he doesn't turn the car on for the heater because the bite of the cold, rainy weather keeps him awake and alert.

it's been over an hour. his phone sits on the dashboard, silent. he's not a patient man, never has been. his patience certainly has been tested with that fucking gremlin you insist on keeping around, the pocket of fur that drinks out of his water glass when he isn't looking and must nibble on his herbs in the kitchen (he can't prove it, but there's teeth mark tears in the basil leaves, the little shit). but this is somehow worse. he doesn't know why you want to get a job. he's been thinking about it while you've been gone.

maybe he hasn't made you feel secure enough. maybe you still feel like a stranger in your own house. maybe you still don't trust him yet, so you're too afraid to ask him for anything.

his phone starts to ring. he picks it up immediately, putting it to his ear.

"'ello?"

"s-simon?" it's you, of course, soft voice a little shaky. "i-i'm...can you pick me up now?"

"'m outside. i'll come get ya."

he practically rips open the door, and you're already standing there, coming out. he stops you before you start walking, making sure you're underneath the umbrella before you start to walk again. you keep your head down, and he doesn't even get a glimpse of you as he opens the door for you again and helps you up and into your seat.

as he pulls back onto the road, he barely hears the sound of your tears over the rumble of the engine. he looks over at you, frowning when he sees your hands covering your face and your shoulders shaking lightly.

he growls under his breath, not even turning on his blinker as he pulls over onto the side of the road. there's a honk sounding as other cars pass, but simon just turns to face you.

"oi, why are y'cryin'?" he asks firmly. you don't respond. you keep your face hidden, your body turned away, and simon huffs.

"oi!" he startles you with his loud voice, and your hands fall into your lap. "wot the fuck happened?"

"i didn't get t-the job," you hiccup. "i-it went...it was h-horrible. he hated my...m-my resume. the questions...i-i took too long t-to answer them, and i-i could tell...i could t-tell he h-hated me--"

"so you didn't get the bloody job," simon shrugs. "come off it. there'll be others."

"i-i don't even wanna do this!" you cry, wiping your face. your mascara is running, and simon sighs, frustrated.

"then why are you?"

"i...i-i--"

"look at me," he tells you, and your eyes meet his finally. your face is puffed and messy, wet streaks along your cheeks and eyeliner smudged along your eyes. "y'can do woteva y'want. anythin'. 'f you want t'stay home, then ya stay home. 'f y'wanna go t'work, then y'go to work." he reaches over and grips your face in one big hand, cupping your jaw and forcing you to lean closer to him. you can feel his breaths through the mask, warm and anxious. "don't worry about me. now tell me y'understand."

your lip wobbles, but you nod anyways.

"i-i understand."

your eyes close when you both lean in closer, and the mouth of his mask brushes against yours. you stay that way for a few long moments, lips brushing together, and when he pulls away to get back on the road, you notice his hand has fallen to rest on your thigh.

you put your hand over his gently, and by the time he pulls into the garage, your tears have dried, and your anxiety has dissolved.

when you emerge from your warm shower, there's an envelope by your purse. simon is in the kitchen, busying himself with dinner, and you pick up the envelope and rip it open. when you unravel the paper, there's a new credit card taped to it, with your name on it.

there's movement out of the corner of your eye, and when you look up, you realize simon had finished putting the little shelves up on the wall.

you can't hold back your smile, watching as the cat jumps from one shelf to the other. the cat follows the ascending and descending blocks of wood, all the way around the room until they curl up on their favorite spot on the couch, right inside the throw blanket that has been curled into a neat ball just for them.

you slip the credit card into your purse. when you pass by simon in the kitchen, you put a hand around his bicep and coax him to bend low, giving his cheek a kiss.

does he know he's not wearing his mask anymore?

his ears get red when he blushes.

[robinfates]

My weekend casual group finally cleared our first Criterion dungeon, Another Mount Rokkon this past Saturday!

Some of those add pulls and bosses were genuinely painful, but I had a lot of fun with it.

Too bad the rewards aren't all that great.

[blythesarchives]

18+ MDNI | Just a quick thought...telling beefy Bucky one of my favs he has a pretty cock.

God you couldn't help yourself.

He was sitting there on the couch, that perfectly fitted henley outlining every curve and plane of his muscles, making you feel a burning need deep in your core. Your eyes were drawn to the growing bulge in his tight jeans.

The way he restlessly shifted his weight on the cushions, his meaty thighs pressing together and releasing in an unconscious rhythm, his fingers absently gripping the fabric beneath them. His arousal was unmistakable to your knowing eyes.

His desire was mounting with your own.

Curling up against his right side and palming him through the rough denim of his jeans, the heat radiating from his semi-hard cock warmed your palm within a second of feeling him. His dark, disheveled hair cascaded over his forehead in messy, slightly tangled strands, his features flushed as he releases soft, breathy pants into the quiet air between you. Those pretty pink lips, giving a slight pout as they remain parted for those gentle, desperate pants to escape.

The poor man is so pent up.

Decades of denial while being used constantly really fucked with him psychologically. He associated the intimate act of sex with pain and misery, complete humiliation and dehumanization, just another form of punishment until he grew to both hate and fear any kind of intimate contact. But with you patience and gentle love...he grew confident enough, comfortable enough, to allow you to touch him.

He shifted restlessly, gradually allowing his legs to part wider as you continued your gentle ministrations, palm pressed firmly against him over the fabric. His jeans acted as both a barrier and a source of delicious friction, the sturdy material keeping him safely confined while still allowing him to enjoy your touch without triggering his usual anxieties about intimate contact.

Though the layers between you provided some sense of security, he was increasingly unable to resist the building desire for more intimate contact. The way he struggled against your palm alone made you wonder just how he would get when he was bare.

"Babydoll, please," he whispered, his voice dropping to a breathless, needy tone that revealed his growing desperation. His tongue darted out unconsciously to wet his lips, leaving them glistening in the dim light as his breathing grew more ragged.

A deep flush had spread across his cheeks, painting them a lovely shade of pink, while his heavy-lidded eyes had taken on a glassy, unfocused expression. The poor, needy man was completely lost to sensation, his hips jerking up slightly into your hand.

"Oh, baby...you're so needy already. I've barely even touched you." You cooed gently, watching his reactions with rapt attention as your hand applied more deliberate pressure to his crotch. His erection strained harder against the confining denim with each teasing touch, making his breathing grow more ragged. They felt so tight now.

"Get 'em off," Bucky whined desperately, his head falling back against the soft cushions of the couch. Sweet, delicate whimpers spilled from his parted lips as his trembling fingers fumbled clumsily with his button and zipper, struggling in his heightened state of arousal. The burning need coursing through his body was overwhelming - he wanted to cry from the intensity of it.

You smiled at his sounds, helping the man out of his jeans and boxers. His cock sprang free - slapping his abdomen as it stood at attention. The poor thing was so swollen and glistening with precum, the head shining and beading translucent pearls. He was panting, squirming and trying to encourage you to touch him.

"You have such a pretty cock, baby," You took it in your hand, carefully angling it so your thumb could pop those little precum bubbles and spread them all around his tip. Bucky whined, his hands fisting the couch cushion as his back arched sightly. Cute little pants left his lips as his hips threatened to thrust.

"Doll, nngh, d-don't...tease." He strained, looking at you with watery eyes, adorably blushed cheeks, biting his bottom lip to stop it from trembling. "I need more...please, stop teasing -"

"Shh, sh, I've got you sweet boy, let me take care of you..." Your voice was so smooth and sultry, his cock twitched in your hand as you continued to gently rub the pad of your thumb on his tip and using his excessive amount of precum to lubricate the rest of him. Your hand soon moved up and down his length with ease, gently applying pressure around those delicate spots you knew he loved.

You were driving him crazy.

"Pleasepleaseplease -" Bucky was completely lost in the overwhelming sensation, his brow deeply furrowed as his body moved instinctively, driven by pure need and desire. Your hand was thoroughly coated in his arousal, a steady supply of glistening beads and pearls continuously dripping down and creating a warm, slick lubricant between your hand and his cock.

"I've got you, I've got you...just let it go for me." You leaned closer, your breath ghosting across his heated skin as his hands desperately grasped and kneaded into your body. His hips moved in an increasingly urgent pace, the previously steady rhythm of his rutting growing more and more erratic and desperate as his approaching orgasm began to overtake him, causing his thrusts to stutter and falter.

"I'm close, I'm close doll," He managed through his panting and soft moaning, "Don't stop, don't stop...aah right there!" He pleaded and begged for that one spot. He loved it, teasing the underside of his cock while simultaneously rubbing the swollen head, it only took seconds.

The way his head falls back against the cushions, letting out a beautiful symphony of strangled moans and desperate cries that rip through his throat with increasing intensity - all perfectly synchronized with the thick white ropes that shot out in strands from below. The warm fluid coated your hand and splashed across his bare, trembling thighs as his hips continued bucked uncontrollably throughout his orgasm.

He panted heavily, chest heaving, as his tense, quivering body finally melted back into the soft embrace of the couch, completely spent after the overwhelming wave of pure ecstasy washed over him.

"Ah...hah...fuck..." He breathed out between ragged gasps, sitting there weak and thoroughly dazed, his hair now disheveled and sticking to his glistening forehead, matted slightly with the light sheen of sweat that had formed at his brow. You loosened your grip and let him go gently, feeling him slowly softening in your hand as the last few aftershocks rippled through him.

His cum coated your hand and you observed the mess he made as he slowly recovered, "Guess you like being called pretty," you teased with a satisfied smirk.

Bucky peeked his eyes open and looked at you, he saw his mess but he didn't comment about it. He was still a little out of breath, but he managed a huff in between. "Shut up..."

I love CW Bucky sm I want to do so many things to him. Anyway I hope you like this thought I needed to write it down real quick. I didn't read over it sooo don't mind that lol.

Thanks for reading <3 -em🌿