#the hypocrisy is making me lose my damn mind | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

countlessrealities · 1 year

Note

🔥 { thoughts on anything shipping related ! }

Unpopular opinions || No longer Accepting !

I'm gonna use this ask to delve into a specific aspect of what I mentioned in the previous ask, because I think that this is something you need to know when interacting with me. Bullies or bullying supporters are NOT welcome in my space.

CRITICALLY exploring & enjoying "problematic" SHIPS doesn't make you a bad person / psycho / pervert / whatev they wanna call it.

Almost anyone who's had a fandom experience, no matter how brief, has run into this topic. The whole big war "antis vs pro-shippers"...even if personally I'd call it the endless "in this episode of how antis start another witch hunt against people who just want to stay in their corner and do their thing..." series.

Btw, to be precise, "pro-shipper" doesn't mean only what everyone seems to think. At the very start, the term was used for people who apply the very healthy, very mature philosophy of the "Ship and let ship", variation of that "live and let live" so many people (even antis, and damn, hello, hypocrisy) loves to throw out to justify their not so popular behaviour.

So, "pro-shipper" isn't a bad word. Actually, it means that you're acting like the adult you're supposed to be. And this means that if you follow what I wrote up there, then technically, you are a pro-shipper.

Gonna leave that there, for pondering purposes. For the rest of the ask, I'm gonna use the term with the most common meaning that's used online nowadays. Back on track.

Are these ships "problematic"? According to our social standards, yes. That's undeniable and no one denies it, not even the shippers (mind, I'm talking about people who critically consume this kind of content, the actual pervs are NOT considered here). They know and have the common sense to explore their ship never losing sight of the fact that 1. it's fiction and 2. this doesn't equal supporting those things IRL. Because yeah, I'll say it (unpopular opinion inside the unpopular opinion):

Fiction does NOT equal reality.

Being intellectually curious about something doesn't equal doing it or even just wanting to do it. Most people fantasise about killing one or more people during their life (and this is a scientifical fact, there are studies on this shit), and this fantasies are pretty enjoyable too for most of them. Would you call them murders? Just because they have explored a scenario without having intention of reproducing it in reality?

I don't think so.

And the same goes for anyone who is interested in the theory and the psychology of "problematic" ships (and content in general). Toxic relationships, abusive relationships, underage, big age differences, incest, power imbalance...and there's more than I can't recall right now, but you got the gist. All this stuff is bad IRL, no one can argue with that (and if they do, then they need to get professional help or go to jail). But on a fantastical level, with fictional characters? It's not different from enjoying a horror movie or being fascinated by a fictional serial killer. Which doesn't mean wanting to become the next John Kramer (Saw) or Michael Myers (Halloween) or being an actual groupie.

So let's put things into the right context before starting to throw around real heavy words, shall we?

Then, on the other hand, as I've already said, we have the ones who bully real people, who accuse real people of being really disgusting thing, who tell real people to kill themselves. People who write on their fucking blog descriptions, for everyone to see, stuff like "pro-shippers killed on sight / if you ship X go hang yourself / if you like Y I hope you OD", etc. I'm not making these up, btw, I've actually seen this shit.

I won't add anything else about this last point because I have already stated what I think and, especially, it should be really fucking obvious. And if it's not to you...whelp, maybe you need to go out and touch some grass. Just saying.

You're allowed not to like this stuff. You're allowed to be uncomfortable about. You have all the rights not to want to see it. You're allowed to avoid / block the people who engage in it. This is all valid.

You're not allowed to be a fucking cowardly bully who uses the anonymity of the internet offers to be an asshole and a criminal. Because that's what you are when you tell someone to take his life, even more when it's about fiction and stuff that doesn't affect anyone's fucking existence. You're a bad person.

So, once again. If you're one of aforementioned people who think that acting this way is all right and cool and just, well...Kindly get the fuck off my blog. I don't want actual toxic people in my life. I hope karma gets to you -fingerguns-

#[ ooc :: mun scotty on comm ]#[ ooc :: scotty's big cup of salt ]#advnterccs #discourse tw #[[ I know that this is a very controversial subject but ]]#[[ between defending real people and fictional characters I'm picking real people ]]#[[ also this is the last ask so ]]#[[ I guess I wanted to go out with a BANG! ]]

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deviantartdramahub · 1 year

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So, DADramaNow, you're not just attacking Club purely out of ableism? Lol okay, lemme show you in more depth detail why we know that isn't true.

3 notes

Here they're making fun of Club bc he doesn't always understand sarcasm or humor. One of the most well known things about autism is that it makes you struggle to understand tones or social cues. That of course will be an especial problem on the internet, unless you use tone tags. This makes it clear they're making fun of one of his struggles he has due to autism. They're making fun of something pretty much all autistic people struggle with at least a few times in their life. In fact, it might happen to you even if you don't have autism, it's a simple, small, innocent mistake. The fact that they're making fun of Club for this is just malicious.

3 notes

You do know not all autistic people are "high-functioning", right?? It's called a spectrum for a reason. NO autistic person deserves to be made fun of for their ability, no matter how high or low it is. Even if Eduard's just a fictional character, it's messed up that you say this and not take into consideration he's not able to.

1 note <- Here they say "psycho" is an ableist term...

0 notes <- But here you had no trouble calling Tri a "psychopath"??

Not only is it hypocrisy, but also looking pretty damn ableist.

2 notes

Here's them downplaying ableism just bc there's more than one oppressed group. Seriously?? Trust me, as a bi person AND an autistic person, I want both groups to be accepted. But trying to silence and downplay disabled people won't help with SHIT.

1 note

Maybe you should consider the fact he focuses on autism and incontinence is bc those are the things he has experience with?? He himself has autism and has an incontinent step-brother. Even then, he still attempted to include others bc he does truly want to be inclusive, I remember a post he made where he asked people what other disabilities they wanted to see included. I requested for him to introduce a dyslexic character, bc my sister has dyslexia. And guess what? HE DID. Because he truly does care. He just mainly does autistic and incontinent characters bc that's WHAT HE HAS EXPERIENCE WITH! YOU are the ableists for thinking autistic and incontinent people shouldn't be represented!

2 notes

Don't be so judge-mental on the poor kid just because he has incontinence and mind your own damn business, jfc...

5 notes

Club is NOTHING like that sicko you're talking about, they sound disgusting and I know Club would NEVER do something like that. (Unless those things you said are lies and Nightflight's just another innocent victim of yours, but idk. -_-

But anyways, saying all autistic people are automatically bad bc of that person is completely stupid.

3 notes

Here they seem to be talking about disabled children like they're burdens.

3 notes

Another example of the 5th link.

5 notes

They literally use "mister autistic" as an insult against him. They also full on say the r-slur without censoring it whatsoever.

Anyways, I'm sure, in fact 100% sure, there's more in depth proof their hatred of Club is purely ableism, but once again, DADramaNow does a shit job at running their group, and this is what Club's tag links to:

Not Found

So looking for proof was difficult, though I think I've gathered up enough, at least for now.

Anyways, pedophilia is a harmful stereotype pf autistic people, and DADramaNow is projecting this stereotype onto Club, bc they're very fucked up and bigoted people. There's no denying it now,Mod S and co.

Their unfortunate dismissal of disability hits even harder knowing many of them in their group identify as having autism. They don’t come off as it and don’t treat others with it kindly, which makes me lose incentive to acknowledge they may have it. It’s as if everything to them is a matter of identity.

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hearth-and-veil · 2 years

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Acta Non Verba

((If anybody can translate acta non verba into Greek, that would be cool))

In the spirit of putting my money where my mouth is, how does one actually make an impact in making HelPol a safe community?

Well good news: It all starts with you. You have the power to directly influence the nature of the community through your own actions! Isn’t that exciting?

Step One: Don’t make this about you. This isn’t about looking like a good person, it’s about being a good person. Doing something just to be seen doing something is shithead behavior. “A good deed should be done as silently as a crime.”

Step Two.A: Know your shit. What, exactly, does the community need? What are the values you are trying to espouse? Why? How can you, specifically, help? Knowing is the essence of doing.

Step Two.B: Know your shit...about HelPol! This is a concept stolen directly from our Asatru brethren. If someone is trying to use Hellenic Polytheism as their excuse for being a shithead, do you know enough about HelPol to prove them wrong using HelPol? For example, if somebody says “Zeus hates Black people” can you reach into your knowledge base about Zeus to prove why that isn’t true? Knowledge is power, my friends.

Step Three: Live it. You need to consistently demonstrate these values every single day. If you condemn behavior in others that you yourself do, that is hypocrisy. You are the front line, so hold the damn line. You can demonstrate through your actions what this community stands for.

Step Four: Don’t make exceptions. If you compromise your values for people you don’t like, you lose. If you say you stand against homophobia, but call Milo Yiannopolis an anti-gay slur, you lose. If you claim violence against women is wrong, but think Marjorie Taylor Green deserves to be abused, you lose. I understand that this is difficult. For example, I am against the death penalty and it is so, so hard to maintain that in light of Dylan Roof. But if I make that exception, then I have compromised the value itself.

Step Five (aka Step Two.C): Know your shit about human behavior. Arguing with people doesn’t change their minds. Don’t we all wish? If anything, though, most people become more firmly enmeshed in their own ideas when they are directly challenged. It sucks, but it’s true. We are all guilty of it, me included/especially. That is why it is so important to demonstrate your values, rather than to argue them. You will through your own actions show who is and is not welcome in this community. Fighting and arguing is energizing for a lot of people. When you engage, you keep the shithead engaged. Your actions will show those who have been left out that they are welcome, and make those who cause problems self-exclude.

You also need to remember that all of these behaviors are part of a larger, global problem. You will not fix racism in one tumblr dot com post.

Step Six: Stand up for people. Have you ever seen something going down and thought “somebody should do something”? Shockingly, you are, in fact, somebody. So do something. Stand up for your friends, stand up for your enemies. You have the duty and obligation to say “that isn’t okay.”

Step Seven: Understand that you aren’t perfect. Remember, this isn’t about you. So it isn’t about you being perfect. You will make mistakes. There will be times when you will make an exception. There will be times you don’t know the answer. There will be times you don’t stand up for someone. There will be times when YOU are the one being the shithead. It happens. Self-flagellation helps absolutely no one. Take note of what happened, figure out how to correct it moving forward, then move forward.

This is how you can get started.

#helpol #hellenic polytheism #hellenic pagan #hellenic paganism #hellenic polythiest

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grazhir · 1 year

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HL - Sebastian (again)

Some thoughts.

The main quests make us complicit in his actions, whether we learn the unforgivables or not. To an extent I can live with this due to the fact that PC is fresh off the train deadly carriage ride from London and may not have had many friends due to the late-blooming deal. I dunno. (Or at least, not magical friends, because she recognizes literally no student at Hogwarts.)

Sebastian is just a bit cocky, but generally personable at the beginning. No big deal. He's fifteen (maybe sixteen, depending on what month he was born in), and I expect that kind of shit from a teen. The "you got lucky" vibe or the "I could have done that (better than you)" thing he has going.

So we're complicit, because we literally have no choice, even if we side with Ominis every time (I do) and call Sebastian out on his shit (like the cruelty he shows the PC at times).

I can even understand—again, knowing that these people are teenagers—why the PC isn't shouting certain things down (such as Isadora can remove pain, so you can too, why the fuck aren't you helping Anne, when Sebastian is misunderstanding the situation) and the PC unhappily and gravely nodding at the end of the scene.

Spoiler alert: I'm muttering obscenities at the screen at the sheer idiocy involved in all this. And the lack of logic (I know, I know, we're dealing with wixen, who do not historically have even a nodding acquaintance with logic and such), or logical arguments.

In the end (first run) I chose not to turn him in. I as the PC am fucking complicit, forced to be, and I am as the PC a charming, polite, and probably too kind, mass-murdering psycho (what with the hundreds, possibly thousands of humans, goblins, and beasts I've slaughtered over the course of the game). I can't exactly judge without calling the Hypocrisy Police down on me.

[But let's be real. Punting wixen off a cliff is the equivalent of Skyrim's Fus Ro Dah, and hilarious every damn time.]

Solomon was abusive, should never have been guardian to children, clearly needed a therapist, and tried to kill me with no proof I'd ever done anything wrong (aside, apparently, from killing those goblins who were trying to raze Feldcroft to the ground, when really I should have offered tea and nibbles and talked things through while being decapitated or my intestines ripped out).

[Seriously, Solomon's comments during that scene were so out of touch with reality it was awful.]

So the man was an utter dick in the end and I'm not sorry he's dead. It's just the way it was done, and the clear evidence throughout Sebastian's storyline that he was losing his mind over this Dark Arts stuff and his obsession with curing Anne that using unforgivables was somehow "instinct" and not "habit".

Is any of it believable? Yeah, mostly, again taking age into account.

Except for the part where none of these hard-core Dark wixen are using unforgivables. I guess because they want us to suffer as we die? Except, that is why Crucio exists? Huh, I'm suddenly confused.

[Except, you know, like Rookwood (and maybe Harlow? I can't remember), who does, but only for the dramatic "we read about/saw this at the conclusion of the TWT between Harry and Voldemort, so let's do it again and assume every player will assume we all have matching, twin/triplet cores"?]

What truly baffles me is this:

Why the hell does everyone have such a hard-on for Sebastian? We have no proof that he'll reform, that he'll stop this obsession, if we fail to turn him in. He knows Ominis' thoughts on the Dark Arts and more importantly why, and Sebastian keeps convincing him (or getting the PC to do so) to let it slide, what he's doing.

For all we know he'll immediately fuck off after OWLs to hunt both for a cure and what deep shadow Anne went off to hide in, not having learned a damn thing, because he'd rationalize what he's done up until now.

He's like the MCU version of Steve Rogers. And I loathe Rogers. I don't loathe Sebastian, but he's in the same zip code.

Will he listen for once?

Too little information from Sebastian, not enough proof.

Kudos to Anne for having enough of this shit and destroying the book (now that the artifact is already destroyed). And I can take that as both "I'm done with this" and "this is the polar opposite of sanity" as well as "revenge for murdering our really not so great uncle" and "without this maybe you'll come to your senses, along with me leaving".

No, in the end, I care way more about Ominis and Anne than I do Sebastian, and I somewhat resent that both the PC and Ominis (and even Anne) are dragged down this particular dark path, treated poorly, and forced to be complicit.

That said? The whole game is a theme of pain, obsession, failure to listen, mental issues, and lies. With whimsy. Often very amusing whimsy.

I also wonder exactly where Sebastian will be staying during the holidays, because I shudder to think he'd be at the Gaunt home with Ominis. And Ominis now has no decent-ish place to stay (as in, not with his actual family), and Anne? Cursed, random bouts of agonizing pain, and I don't even know where she would go and how she'd survive.

I'm not saying the whole questline is bad, because it's certainly cause for plenty of discussion, and it was interesting. (I don't necessarily place it on a higher level than Natsai and Poppy, though.) It definitely invoked feelings in me (empathy, frustration, anger, resentment, and hurt, so mostly negative), which means someone did something right in crafting it.

That said, part two? I hope the PC becomes besties with Ominis and helps him in a more sane way, even if it's only a shoulder to cry on at what whackjobs his family members are.

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow

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horse-girl-anthy · 2 years

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Do you mind if I ask your top 10 favorite characters (can be male or female) from all of the media that you loved (can be anime/manga, books, movies or tv series)? And why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before.....Thanks..

tbh this is extremely hard to answer because I have many interests. I’m sure I’ll feel bad when I remember the hundred other characters that should have made the list. I’m not putting any Ikuhara characters because it’d been too hard to pick and honestly I’d have to go through each work individually.

1. Tenma from Naoki Urasawa’s Monster. I don’t claim to be a complicated person, alright. I just think he’s nice. every time I read Monster I get more attached to him like a little baby duck, which is what all the other characters in that story do as well so I’m valid. trying to put it into words is hard--he’s just an alluring combo of pathetic, ridiculous, cool, strong, and kind. plus he kinda becomes a religious figure by the end and I’m a sucker for that shit.

2. Xie Lian from TGCF/Heaven Official’s Blessing. I read the novels this summer after watching the donghua. I was just expecting a decent BL, but what I got was epic historical supernatural fiction (and BL). Xie Lian is such an impressively written character. his story helped me deal with my own fall from grace, as it were, and was overall cathartic and engaging. plus he’s my type. step aside Hua Cheng, I’d die for him first.

3. Orel from Moral Orel. I love this show a lot because of its focus on the cruelty and hypocrisy of WASP America, and Orel is relatable for struggling to understand the bulltshit answers he gets to all his questions. he’s a lot more innocent than I was as a kid, but I think his kind of purity plays well against the satirical, dark edge of the show.

4. Reki from Haibane Renmei. most of the reasons I love her aren’t revealed until the very end of the show. I’ll say that I love her because she’s the ultimate manifestation of the story’s themes of guilt and redemption.

5. Ishida from Koe no Katachi. I just finished rereading this manga recently. if you want a character who does wrong, suffers, tries to change himself, but finds it isn’t that easy, Ishida is your man. he’s such a funny, well-written teen boy, but also someone I think anyone from any background can see themselves in--the good and the bad.

6. Naruto from... you know. Naruto was the first anime I became really obsessed with, when I was in middle school, and Naruto himself is the first character I can remember becoming attached to in an intense, lasting way. I loved him so much and I still have that attachment to him. he’s so, so cute, and so, so lovable. when I’m done with my first round of Ikuhara vids, I’m going to download Naruto so I can make my friend a Sasuke fancam and I’m also gonna make a Naruto edit just for me :)

7. Miyuki from Naoki Urasawa’s Happy! I’ve read everything by Urasawa except for Yawara, and I’m one of the only people who seems to have read Happy! I gotta say, would I pick it as one of his best works? no. I love everything he’s done, but something like 20th Century Boys or Billy Bat is clearly a more serious, meaningful story than Happy!, which comes out of his transition phase between writing romantic comedy sports manga and his later thrillers. however... Happy! is one of those works which makes me lose my mind regardless of quality. and Miyuki, the main character, is just so damn adorable. I find her a very appealing, sweet character. beyond that, kind of like Monster, the entire story is about people trying to break her down, but she refuses to ever give up and I love that sort of thing when played right.

8. Ged from Ursula K. Le Guin’s Earthsea series. I am still digging into Le Guin’s body of work but I’ve read most of her novels and short story collections. I could absolutely make a top ten list with just characters from her books. however, I managed to narrow it down to just three from this list, all from the Earthsea books. Ged is the only character who appears in all six books, and the reader gets to experience close the entire course of his life. he starts as an arrogant, careless boy and grows into a wise man. Le Guin decided not to leave him after he does his final great act, and his story continues after he loses his power. Tehanu, the fourth book in the series, is probably my favorite book I’ve ever read, I’ve thought about writing an analysis comparing it with RGU, and one of its main themes is life after loss and trauma. his story interwines with the next two characters on this list.

9. Tenar from Earthsea. like Ged, we get to see most of her life throughout the books. book 2 contains her coming of age story, while Tehanu features her as a widow, struggling between the life of an ordinary woman and her status in the mythology of Earthsea. she brings so much fire, mirth, and strength to the series. she’s someone I wish I had in my life, and if you really pressed me, she’s my favorite character Le Guin ever wrote.

10. Tehanu from Earthsea. this character is a strange one to try to write about. I’ve seen people criticize her writing by saying there’s nothing to her, she’s just a vessel for the story. but I can’t agree. as someone who’s known people who went through severe childhood trauma, I think that Tehanu is written with thought and care. I love how unnerving and unknowable she is, but also how she is written like she’s any other child. the ending of her story in the final book made me sob and sob and sob.

sources for the last three images because they’re fanart: 1, 2, 3

#these are in no particular order btw..........#ty for the ask #i do love to talk about things i love!#i took off Oofuri characters #more Le Guin protagonists #some of my fav movie characters #other Urasawa characters #theres v minor characters whove made a huge impression on me like Misae from Paranoia Agent #but this is a p good summary of the characters who make me the craziest

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si-siwrites · 2 months

Text

How do I express

Hate is not the word

But rather bitterness

For the voice unheard

For the song I sung

Only to find

That it had already wrung

Their desolate minds

Can you really lose

What was never there?

But I'll excuse

My hopes prayer

That if I explained

The awful years

And what they stained

They might shed tears

The final prayer

From me to you

Cannot compare

To God's own few

I'd take my leave

Straight to the sea

And mearley grieve

If just for me

But you have wrought

This wretched thing

On all you begot

The final aching string

For me I weep

For me I pray

But for those you keep

There comes a day

How dare you?

How dare you hear

Without listening

And speak without meaning

How dare you look

And understand

And still practice

What you preach

How dare you offer

Your child to the word of God

And when it bleeds me dry

Offer up another in my stead

How dare you look up on my supplication

Hear my earnest declaration

And cry that it is written

Deep in stone

Fool gold is what it is

This thing that you believe in

These words that you deceive in

It tears beneath my gaze like softened clay

But you will not perceive it

You refuse to leave it

This scripture I laid bare

Beneath the bloody tear

It is not so you deny

Meanwhile I decry

That my rights were not yours

To toss into the night

You prayed for answers

I prayed for your love

Both denied by God above

But only I admit it

That there is nothing there

Not in you and not in prayer

Hope is a tearable thing to loose

But I guess we both had to choose

What's more important?

My life or my soul?

A decision ripped from me

When you put me on Isaac's alter

And I grieve for me and what isn't there

But I could pretend not to care

If I didn't see

You lead numbers two and three

On the same well trodden path

Whose pitfalls I mapped out

So they could avoid that mortal dread

Felt when sacrificed instead

Of the things that should not have spread

But you drag them on the path

To glorious on high

All while you deny

Curse you and your faith

For making heaven a place

That I must carve away my soul

In order to even breath it's shing glory

Be damned all that is holy

Be damned your foolish pride

In your testimonies

I would rather be damned for all to come

Than be baptized in Christs own blood

If he weeps for me I do not share

This sentiment for all I care

Eternal darkness I may bear

If it means that I'll not share

The sickest sweet that you crave

Enjoy your gilded hypocrisy

Enjoy your blinded eyes and empty smiles

All while I'll rot for days

The only prayer I'll ever say

Is that I hope the others get away

#my writing #ex christian #ex mo #exmo #exmormon #ex mormon #ex cult

0 notes

krabs-quill · 3 years

Note

hello my love! i would like to send an ask, if you do not mind :]

mcyt’s reacting to you being new on the server? how they would react and how they’d treat cha? :]

have a beautiful day, hope you see this!!

- deacy! <3

new guy ~ dsmp x gn!reader

characters: c!tommy, c!wilbur, c!quackity, c!slimecicle

main characters pronouns: not mentioned

trigger warnings: brief mention of death, mention of bones

authors notes:

OMG DEACY THIS WAS SO DAMN COOL TO WRITE ALSO HIIIII!!! its been a while since ive had to brush up on my characterization skills, but it was super nice to practice, so thank you!! i hope you like it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tommy:

He's not gonna care about you all that much.

When you join, Tommy is either gonna be indifferent about you or think you're a weirdo until you say something he likes

You guys probably walk past each other and he realizes he doesnt recognize you

It's honestly really hit or miss with Tommy!

He's like a visual novel character

If you say specific things he likes, then he’ll like you and say something along the lines of “yeah, me too.” (albeit in a more generic way)

If you say something he doesn't like, then he will make that one scrunched up face of disgust at you and straight up TELL you that you're weird

And while that's all surface-level impressions, depending on what you say you CAN have a much more meaningful impact on Tommy!

You've gotta show him that you're on his side of things- be someone who makes him feel safe!

Christ knows people aren't giving him that a bunch lately.

Wilbur:

This dudes gonna act all silly goofy

Like yasss omg!!! There's someone new on the server?? Time to see if they wanna be my buddy!

Gonna be asking you a lotta questions like who you've met already, where you've visited, what you know n jazz

Gonna be walking around a lot, and if you dont catch up to him then that's your problem! He can't seem to stay in one place for a long time

Actually, he was lying. He's gonna hook his arm around your shoulder and talk to you like that if you can't keep up with him.

He doesnt wanna lose his new pal!!

Speaking of lying, though,

He's gonna be lying. A lot.

Probably gonna say that he and Quackity are besties, or that he doesn't know how explosives work.

But sometimes, he's gonna be straight up honest with you.

If the subject is brought up, then he’ll just casually mention the way he died

Or how limbo was

And then move on like nothing he just said was concerning.

All in all, hes eager as hell to make a friend

So might as well try to be a pal, right?

Quackity:

Gonna have motives RIGHT when he sees your new face

A bit skeptical of you, to be frank.

With the way he speaks to you, you'll be able to notice that he’s tryna test you if you're observant enough

His tone is gonna be slow and casual, kinda muse-typa vibes y'know?

Not completely friendly but not completely businessy and stern

He's gonna be testing the waters to see if you'd be some sort of benefit to Las Nevadas

And if not, maybe one less of a potential obstacle to deal with in the future.

The conversation won't be super intense at first, Quackity will make sure to keep it in the smalltalk stage for a bit

But once he starts hitting you with questions, then that's when the conversation gets more interesting.

Quackity will gladly bring up something minor about himself if he was the person to ask the question that engaged the subject.

But man, does this guy have BOUNDARIES!

Refuses to answer any question you ask about him if it's too personal.

Brushes it off with a “were not quite uh, close enough for you to be asking such personal questions, alright? Tone it down.”

Doesn't seem to recognize the hypocrisy in that, but oh well.

Courtesy, though? 100%

He’ll give you some gear or food if you need it, respectful to an extent.

Might even show you around Las Nevadas! A tour, of sorts!

He wants to get on your good side, but not without careful observing and testing to see if you're even WORTH your good side, of course

Charlie:

OH MY GOSH HE WANTS TO HAVE A NEW BESTIE!!!

And since you're new and you seem like not a terrible person, why not try to talk to you?

SUUPER friendly! You offer him a handshake but he doesn't know what you're trying to do

Once you explain that it's a salutation, he shakes your hand vigorously like a little kid shaking the hand of their idol.

Super buddy-buddy, and he already knows your name and some place you've settled down in for a while.

Talks to you a lot, he doesn't really understand social cues super well so he talks and talks and talks even if you're tired of him.

Eager to drag you around and show you Las Nevadas since that's where his favorite person, Quackity, is!

Will tell you about all 206 of his bones in his body and if you bring up parts of his rib cage poking out of his slimy exterior, he WILL be getting defensive

But despite his bones not being his, he's got a big heart!!!

Which also does not belong to him!!!

But my gosh will he think you're super cool and interesting despite only just meeting you.

At times, you'll be teaching Charlie little things like what rain is, or what a cow is.

And he will be very invested!

Definitely will be rambling to Quackity about the stuff you told him about.

And in return, he will be telling you about a nice damp hole he recently found.

Charlies only here to make friends, and boy is that what he's gonna do.

#krabs kreates #dsmp x reader #mcyt x reader #tommyinnit x reader #wilbur x reader #quackity x reader #slimecicle x reader #mcyt x platonic reader #dsmp x platonic reader #dsmp x y/n #dsmp x you #mcyt x you #mcyt x y/n

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makeste · 3 years

Note

In relation to your post on C:320, love your point of Bakugo is actually the best person to call out Deku for the viewing everyone as Extras because he's speaking from experience, because when I first read that bit I did think 'Well that's quite hypocritical mister only uses mildly insulting (at best) nicknames or the exact term extra for everyone'. However given as of C:318 he's still using the term lowfries it feels like it undercuts how powerful that could have been a bit. What do you think?

first off, just to clarify, back in 318 he didn't actually call them "small fries" or "losers" or anything like that; he literally just used a plural form of the word "you" (i.e. "you guys"). it's just that out of the various Japanese words for you (anata, omae, etc.), the one that he used (temee) happens to be the rudest one. but everything Katsuki says is rude, because that's just how he talks. so it really didn't mean anything in this instance.

however, even if he had actually called them extras, tbh it wouldn't have undercut the moment at all in my mind. because the thing is, even if he calls them that, he's not treating them like extras at all. they're his equals. he could have left them all back at U.A. and gone after Deku himself, but he didn't. because he's learned the importance of teamwork, and he's come to trust in his classmates' strength. they've all been working together in perfect sync for the past couple of chapters. he knows when to sit back and let one of them handle something, and he knows when to step in and play his part -- as he did when Deku used Smokescreen.

and that's the thing with Kacchan -- with him, you really do have to look at his actions more than his words, because he often does say things that on the surface appear to be very hypocritical and condescending and insulting. and if his actions even remotely matched what he was saying, he would indeed be the terrible, irredeemable person that so many fans even now still see him as. fortunately, his actions usually do not match up at all, but instead reveal him as the person he actually is -- someone who cares about other people far more than he could ever comfortably acknowledge.

like, please pardon me for going off on an entirely different tangent now, but I feel like the last couple of chapters are really the perfect example of this. it's the contrast between everything he says to and about Deku --

"that damned nerd."

"he's screwed up in the head."

"wow, real inspiring! all hail the mighty inheritor of One for All!"

"do your worst, you All Might wannabe!"

"I guess once you start being able to do anything you try, everyone around you starts to look like an extra, huh?"

-- versus everything his actions tell us about what he actually feels about Deku.

Deku was literally the first person he asked about as soon as he woke up in the hospital.

he completely disregarded the fact that he had been LITERALLY IMPALED THROUGH THE CHEST and was still in a considerable amount of pain, and took off running toward Deku's bedside the second he heard that he hadn't woken up.

as soon as he found out Deku had left, he correctly predicted the exact course of action Deku would take, right down to the actual words that he used.

and upon realizing this, he described it as "the worst scenario I can think of," and immediately leapt into action, taking command of and mobilizing the rest of the class.

he wore a fucking tie for Deku's sake. like what else can you even say. that's true love right there.

he showed up fully prepared to throw down for the sake of dragging Deku back home, even though his wounds aren't fully healed yet.

he immediately saved Deku from the rampaging crowd.

and even while in full insult mode, he couldn't go more than two sentences before making a comment about Deku's wellbeing ("are you smiling now?").

and in fact, let's talk about that last part. because over the last two chapters, Kacchan has thus far made references to Deku being the heir of OFA (which he thinks of as a cursed power), Deku emulating All Might (who has the exact same "never takes himself into account" mindset, according to him), and Deku sneaking off without telling anyone. literally every one of his remarks is actually a comment about the various behaviors that we know he's actually very worried about. in other words, if you look beneath the surface at what he's actually saying, all of these supposed insults lose their bite real fast.

that damned nerd = I'm worried about Deku.

he's screwed up in the head = he never thinks about himself before recklessly leaping into danger and it scares me.

the mighty inheritor of OFA = the latest in a long line of lonely people who all lived harsh lives and ultimately sacrificed themselves for the sake of their mission.

are you smiling now? = what happened to the Deku I knew who never shut up about wanting to save people with a smile?

do your worst, you All Might wannabe = I know you're determined to follow down the same path as All Might -- even if it kills you -- but we're not backing down, and we're not going to leave you.

you didn't even tell us anything before you left = I thought you trusted me enough to know that I would have your back.

I guess once you start being able to do anything you try, everyone around you starts to look like an extra, huh? = you're doing the same thing I used to do, looking down on everyone who you think can't keep up. but when you do that, you lose sight of your own weaknesses. I learned that the hard way and I don't want you to make that same mistake.

anyway, so that wound up being a very long tangent lol. but basically, for my money Kacchan is one of the least hypocritical characters in the series, because most hypocrites are people who say nice things, only to have their hypocrisy revealed through their actions. but Kacchan is the exact opposite. his actions are where he is the most honest. and so yeah, when he says this to Deku in 320, he means it, and he's right, and he should say it.

#bnha 320 #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #bnha meta #bakugou meta #bakudeku #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #asks #anon asks #long post

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the-lonelybarricade · 3 years

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I totally stole this from one of those writing prompt blogs, but can you do Rhys and Feyre going to couples therapy together as a joke when they only just met?

Okay my love, I literally just finished writing this and haven't actually proofread it. It was meant to be silly and jokey but ended up being a bit more serious than I intended, but I'm a sucker for fake dating tropes so maybe I'll continue their story at some point. Anyway here's a modern Feyre and Rhys going to couples thereapy together (whilst not actually being a couple):

Feyre was absolutely determined to prove Nesta wrong. Usually her sister’s grating comments didn’t penetrate Feyre’s hardened demeanor at home, but something about their stint yesterday had thoroughly gotten under her skin. Nesta had a talent when it came to barbed words, so it was the casualness with which she’d said Feyre was boring and predictable that had kept the words ringing between Feyre’s ears. They lacked the usual bite and venom that was characteristic of Nesta, and somehow that made them impossibly worse.

Was Feyre a creature of habit? Sure. But she had always been content with her quiet, unassuming life. They’d grown up poor, with little luxury, and as a little girl Feyre had always believed all she’d need to be happy was paint supplies and enough time to get lost in a blank canvas. Feyre had that now, and she was happy. She spent almost every day in her studio, a paintbrush in one hand and a coffee mug in the other. And that was fine. She may not spend a lot of time with other people, but that was fine.

Routine is fine. Being focused on your career is fine. So why did the implication that her life is stagnant rile her up so much?

Feyre couldn’t articulate what, exactly, had bothered her so much, since she was perfectly happy with the current state of her life. Yet the next morning she’d woken up, vowing to take a day off and spend the whole day being entirely unpredictable.

She was going to pull a Jim Carrey in Yes Man. She was going to seize this damn day. And any voice in her mind that pleaded her to stick to her comfort zone was going to be diligently ignored.

When she set out to get her morning coffee, she ducked into the first cafe she came across without checking the reviews. And instead of ordering her usual chai latte, she asked the cashier to make her their favorite drink. She sat at a booth and sipped it experimentally. It was sweet and tasted of caramel; she decided she quite liked it. So far so good.

She sat wondering what brave venture she should do next, something that would be worthy of telling people about. Something so brash and crazy and unexpected Nesta would eat her stupid, truthful words.

“Mind if I take this seat?”

The voice was like smooth velvet. Feyre glanced up to meet a pair of eyes that were such a deep, peculiar shade of blue they almost looked violet. She was momentarily stunned speechless, which caused the impossibly handsome stranger to lift one of his perfectly groomed brows in question.

“Of course,” Feyre answered, her mouth feeling a bit dry. She quickly took a sip of her coffee to quell this strong reaction her body was having to this man.

She’d been expecting him to take the chair to sit elsewhere, but he slid into the chair at her table, directly across from her. Feyre spared a cursory glance around the cafe. Customers milled about, but there were plenty of empty seats strewn here and there. It was far from necessary to share a table with a stranger.

Her interest piqued, Feyre turned her attention back to this strange, alluring man.

“I’m Feyre,” she said, sounding much more confident than she felt. But today was about branching out of her comfort zone. Making the first move with an attractive man certainly qualified.

“Rhysand,” he answered with a charming grin, extending his hand into the space between them. Feyre accepted it with a mirrored smile, for a moment marvelling at the way his hand completely enveloped hers.

Feyre cleared her throat. “So tell me, Rhysand, what brings you to this table in particular?”

The way he wrinkled his nose was unfairly endearing. “Call me Rhys,” he said. “I only really use Rhysand in a business setting. And I chose this table in particular, because I saw a beautiful woman sitting here and was feeling especially forward.”

Feyre laughed in surprise. “Forward, indeed. Well, Rhys, I have spectacular news for you.”

“And what’s that, Feyre darling?” the suggestive tone to his voice sent shivers down her spine and instantly those warning bells in her mind were blaring. This man was too handsome and he was a complete stranger.

“I’ve decided to do something completely stupid and spontaneous today, and you’re officially invited to join me.”

Rhysand grinned, his eyes flickering with mischief at her proposal. She supposed that should be concerning, too, but she felt her pulse quicken. “And what stupid, spontaenous thing will we be doing, darling?”

Feyre leaned back, trying to regain composure by taking a too casual sip of her coffee. “I haven’t decided yet. I’m open to ideas.”

Across the cafe, a man stood up so quickly his chair tipped over with a loud thunk. Rhys and Feyre both whirled their heads at the commotion.

“This is why we need to go to therapy together!” the woman across from him screeched. “You can’t control your stupid temper!”

“I don’t have time for this shit,” he growled. “I’m not going to sit there for an hour so you can manipulate some dumb bitch into agreeing with you!”

“It’s not about sides,” she groaned. “I want to work through this with you!”

Feyre felt a tug of sympathy at the desperation in the woman’s voice. She could feel her pain and frustration second-hand, having been in similar shoes herself.

“Fuck this,” the man grumbled, storming for the door.

The woman followed after him. “Our appointment is in 10 minutes! Please, let’s just try it.”

The door swung shut behind them. Feyre watched the couple continue their walking argument down the city pavement, gesturing wildly with their hands.

Feyre sighed. “Man, that poor woman. It sounded like she really wanted to work things out.”

“That guy sounded like an absolute ass, maybe it’s for the best,” Rhys said. Then, his eyes lit up and he turned to Feyre with a slow, conspiring grin. “It does give me an idea, though.”

“What’s that?” Feyre felt a bit intimidated by the roguish expression on his face, even if it did make her feel breathless.

“Well, I do happen to know there’s a psychiatrist's office right above this cafe. If I had to guess, that’s where our friends were going to have their first session. And from the looks of it,” he nodded towards the couple, who were now striding in opposite directions through the city, faces flushed with anger, “they won’t be attending.”

“And your point is…?”

“Let’s go in their stead. Make a game of it. First person to break character loses.”

“And what does the winner get?”

“Well, if I win, then I get to take you to dinner.”

Feyre considered for a moment. Dinner with a handsome man certainly didn’t sound like losing to her. “If I win, then I get to use you as a model.”

“You’re a photographer?” His brows rose in interest and Feyre summoned all her will power not to blush. Since when was she bashful about her career?

“Painter.”

Rhysand grinned. “If you win, you can use my body anyway you wish, Feyre darling. Nude would be best.”

And that was how Feyre had ended up in Dr. Suriel’s office, Rhys by her side on the sofa. It was perhaps the most adventurous thing she’d ever agreed to.

“So, Mr and Mrs Mandray. Apologies, I didn’t get your names on the forms.”

“I’m Feyre, this is my husband Rhys,” Feyre answered, thinking it lucky they didn’t have to guess at the mysterious couple’s forenames.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Feyre and Rhys. What brings you to my office today?”

Rhys immediately slipped into his role of the concerned husband. He placed his arm around Feyre’s shoulders and tugged her close. Rhys opened his mouth, then shut it, glancing at Feyre hesitantly.

“My wife and I have been getting into a lot of… disagreement lately,” Rhys answered carefully, and already Feyre thought this was going much better than it would have if the actual Mr Mandray had turned up.

“My husband,” Feyre said flatly, channeling her inner Nesta to put venom into the word. “Is insisting on painting our house purple.”

“I see,” Dr. Suriel says, assessing the displeasure on Feyre’s face. “And I’m assuming you want to paint the house a different color.”

Feyre pressed her lips into a thin line. “See, that’s just the problem,” she said, crossing her arms. “That’s exactly the color I would want to paint our house.”

Dr. Suriel frowned. “So you do want the house to be painted purple, as does your husband. Am I understanding that correctly?”

“No,” Feyre sighed. “He wants to paint the house blue, but is insisting we paint it purple, because he knows it’s what I want. This bastard refuses to be anything but accommodating.”

“We’re going to try to refrain from name-calling in my office,” Dr Suriel said calmly. “So, Feyre, you are clearly unhappy that Rhys wants to paint the house purple. What color would you paint it?”

“Blue,” she answered. “I know it’s what he secretly wants to paint it.”

“She doesn’t see the hypocrisy in what she's saying!” Rhys complained. Then, he turned to Feyre, looking impossibly serious. “Darling, I know you want to paint the house purple, and I already told you I’m fine with it.”

Feyre groaned. “I don’t want to paint the house purple! I want to paint it blue.”

“You’re only saying that because you think I want to paint the house blue.”

“Do you?”

Rhys hesitated. “No.”

“Don’t lie in front of our therapist,” Feyre said with narrowed eyes. “We promised to tell the truth while we’re here.”

“Then you tell me the truth, Feyre. Do you genuinely want the house to be painted blue?”

Now it was Feyre’s turn to hesitate. She could see the corner of Rhysand’s mouth twitch as she did so. “No. I mean yes! I do!”

“It sounds like at the heart of this argument, you are both ultimately concerned in pleasing the other person, is that fair to say?”

Feyre and Rhys glanced at each other, then nodded in agreement.

“Do you think there’s a color you could both compromise on, so that you don’t feel as if your partner is the only one making a sacrifice in this decision?”

Feyre met Rhysand’s brilliant violet eyes. In truth, she’d blurted the color purple because she’d been thinking about the color of his eyes. She'd never seen eyes that color, and they were wonderfully vivid. Feyre was lost thinking of painting a world in a monocrhome of violet, like a city that lived within his gaze.

Feyre realized she’d been momentarily swept away, snapped out of it by the humor that washed behind those starry irises. She blinked back the haze and tried to think of an answer to the question.

“Mustard yellow?” she proposed.

Rhys pursed his lips in mock consideration. “Mustard yellow,” he agreed with an emphatic nod of approval.

Dr. Suriel blinked in surprise. “All right, well I’m pleased we could solve that issue. Is there anything else you’ve been arguing about?”

“Yeah, actually. My wife,” Rhys gave Feyre a pointed glance. Somehow, despite being strangers, hearing Rhys refer to her as his wife sent waves of pleasure jolting through her. She felt her stomach flip on itself. “Isn’t satisfied with our sex life.”

Feyre instantly flushed at such an accusation, however fabricated.

“Is this true, Feyre?” Dr. Suriel turned her eyes towards Feyre and she shifted uncomfortably at having to make up stories about her sex life with Rhys. Making Feyre imagine rolling in a bed with him was certainly his goal, and she’d lie to say it wasn’t affecting her. Rhysand looked absolutely delighted to have made her squirm. Fine. Two could play at his game.

“Y-yes, well,” Feyre stuttered, the burning in her cheeks condemning. “I keep telling Rhys that 16 orgasms in a session is excessive. He’s much too generous a lover and he never lets me give as good as I get.”

Feyre felt satisfied with the way Rhysand’s face went crimson.

Dr. Suriel’s brows rose. “This seems to be a common theme in your marriage. Rhysand, would you say that you’re often prioritising Feyre’s desires over your own?”

“I think Feyre sorely underestimates how much pleasure I take from satisfying her desires,” he answered, his eyes flicking to Feyre with enough of a sensual promise that her heartbeat turned staccato.

“Rhys, it sounds as though your generosity is part of the way you express your love, is that safe to say?” Rhys nodded. “And Feyre, it seems as if you have trouble accepting your husband's generosity, both in and outside the bedroom. Do you feel that’s a fair statement?”

“I-I suppose so.”

“Sometimes people have trouble accepting their loved one’s generosity when they feel like they aren’t giving something in exchange. It can be hard to accept that kind of love when we don’t feel like we deserve it. Do you feel like this could apply to your situation?”

Feyre blinked. This was meant to be a gag, something daring and experimental. She hadn’t expected to be psychoanalyzed by Dr. Suriel, or at least for her analysis to hit so close to home.

Rhysand shifted forward on the sofa. “Is this true, darling?” he asked, sounding concerned. He took Feyre’s hands in his own, brushing his thumb along her skin as he met her gaze. “I think you deserve the world.”

She would almost think he was being genuine if she hadn’t met him only an hour ago. Feyre marked the conviction on his face, those burning pools of earnesty in his eyes, and marveled at what an incredible actor he was.

Somehow she ended up blurting part of the truth. “My family life growing up was kind of tough and I’ve never really known what unconditional love was like. I think a part of me still believes it's something I have to earn.”

“That sounds like it must have been very hard, Feyre. But it sounds like Rhys loves you very much, and that this is an issue the two of you can overcome together. When you feel the instinct to reject his generosity, try to remember where that message is coming from. And Rhysand, try to keep in mind that this is something your wife is still working through, and be patient if she feels more comfortable giving you something in exchange. This is her way of expressing love, too. At the core of your issues is both of you thinking about the other person, try to remember this when a breakdown in communication occurs.”

Somehow they’d lost control of their therapy session and were receiving actual therapy, which wasn’t part of the plan at all. But somehow, despite not actually being married to Rhysand, what Dr. Suriel said was reassuring.

Feyre turned to Rhys and smiled. “I think I understand better, now. You’re free to give me as many orgasms as you want, honey.”

Rhys grinned fiendishly. “And I’ll let you reciprocate in whatever way you feel comfortable, darling.”

Dr. Suriel clasped her hands together in approval. “Excellent. I think so long as the two of you take measures to accurately communicate your needs, you’ll find these breakdowns will occur less frequently. And that’s it for our time today, but I am happy to have the two of you back any time.”

Feyre walked out of the session hand-in-hand with Rhys, feeling a bit dazed. It had certainly gotten more serious than she’d expected, but perhaps her judgement had been misplaced in thinking therapy could be anything other than serious, no matter how joking the complaints.

“Well, that was certainly stimulating,” Rhys quipped once they’d left the office.

“And it seems we’re at a draw, considering neither of us broke character.”

“You do play my wife convincingly well,” Rhys practically purred, “perhaps I’ll let you take up the real role, if you feel so inclined.”

Feyre laughed. “I’m expecting a few other offers to come through. Give me a few days to look over the applicants, then I’ll get back to you.”

“Okay, well how’s this. I’ll give you my number, you can wait until all those applicants come back to you, and once you’ve decided that I’m clearly the obvious choice, you can call me.”

Feyre smiled as she pulled out her phone and handed it to him to insert his number. “You do make a very convincing husband. Perhaps I can hire you for weddings and Thanksgiving dinners?”

“Real husband, fake husband, a partner to do spontaneous, outrageous things with. You call me, and I’ll be whatever you want me to be, Feyre.”

It was perhaps the strangest and most generous offer she’d ever been given. When they parted ways, Feyre thought that she’d certainly filled her quota for an interesting story to tell. And maybe, most likely, she’d be calling that number very soon.

#Feysand #prompt fill #pro Rhys #pro Feyre #fake dating kind of #Feysand fic #acotar #acotar fic #ask #not proofread sorry #fanfiction #acotar fanfiction

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court-of-forever-undone · 3 years

Text

I Knew You’d Come Back to Me

Chapter Two: Slept next to her, but I dreamt of you (Cardan’s POV)

Summary: While homesick and heartbroken in the mortal world, Jude finds a pile of letters on her doorstep that include an official pardon and a love confession from Cardan. What is supposed to be a happy reunion quickly falls apart when Jude is told Cardan has returned to Nicasia in her absence.

Cardan is determined to make it up to Jude.

**This fic is inspired by the love story between Taylor Swift’s characters Betty, James, and August.**

Should you wish to listen: Cardigan | Betty | August

Tags: Multiple POVs, angst and a happy ending, Jurdan, post-wicked king, canon divergence

Masterlist

Read on AO3

Four Months Post Exile

If she has decided that she wishes to stay away and forget about Elfhame, me, then I will forget about her as well. Except that I can’t because for the eternity she has been gone there has been nothing to rid my thoughts of her.

I grab the nearest pitcher of wine, not that they are ever far from my reach as of late, and swallow as much of the tart liquid as I can. At least if I pass out there is a chance I may dream of her, or dream of losing her. But it is a chance I am willing to take.

There is a revel happening, for a reason I cannot remember. Probably honoring some guest that I cannot be bothered to care about at this point. I tend to the kingdom as best as I can for the day, but by the time the dawn is rising I do everything I can to forget the subtle human features that haunt me. The curve of her ear, the flush in her cheeks, the softness of her form.

Since she has been gone there has been an unbearable ache in my chest that only seems to worsen at her memory. I’ve taken back up with a variety of powders that I grew accustomed to at Balekin’s parties. The numbing sensation is highly preferable to the agonizing dread that awaits me in sobriety. At least when time passes differently, I can imagine that she is home again, or at the very least, I can pass more days until she returns.

Her return seems more and more uncertain because despite my letters, she has not come home, nor even responded to them. She has made no inclination that she intends to return, which is ridiculous because she is the queen. When she returns I will have to remember to remind her of all the accusations she threw my way at neglecting responsibilities, meanwhile she has spent months in the mortal world as if waiting for me to come bring her home myself.

I grin at the idea. A trip to the mortal world could quickly end this ridiculous torture. At least I would have the chance to see her in the flesh.

She could get her anger out and then return home with me. At this point, a curse from her lips would sound like music and her fingers curled around my neck would be ecstasy.

In time, that anger might turn to forgiveness and we can all move on from this nonsense.

Present Day

What a dreadful day today has been. I should have returned to my chambers the moment I was given news of a wine shortage because poisoned wine had been found in the castle’s cellars, because that meant I had to suffer through the small council’s bickering mostly sober, followed by hours of grievance hearings from folk. For a kingdom full of people who find me utterly incompetent, they sure do make plenty of pleas to the crown.

Only one hour remains until I can leave the presence of my court and scout for my own wine to drink, poisoned or otherwise.

“Cardan…?” Nicasia said with the air of a question.

I respond with a non-committal sound before glancing in her direction to my left. Again, she had found a seat nearest mine, despite my repeated reminder that she was no longer entitled to that spot. We were nothing beyond friends with a bit of history, even if my entire council, mother, and Nicasia herself thought it was ridiculous to prolong a “land-sea” alliance any longer.

I turn back to the conversation I had been ignoring and make an appropriate response, before quickly tuning them out again. Courtiers have nothing better to do than waste my time.

Admittedly, I could see my advisors’ point and I haven’t exactly fought to deny Nicasia’s advances anymore. Not when the one I want has rejected me entirely, favoring a mortal over me and forsaking our kingdom to my inadequate rule.

If I were a kinder soul, I might have been content to see her happy and adjusted to the mortal world, but I am not. I hate myself for sending her away and I hate her just as much for not wanting to return. Every time someone suggests I marry, I want to scream the truth for the entire kingdom to hear.

I married the mortal Jude Duarte. I did it so she would release her hold over me, but I also did it because I wanted to. I wanted to make her my queen and share this dreaded life with her; the powerful, defiant, occasionally murderous, human woman with all her soft features and perfectly odd ears.

Pride be damned. If she returned, I’d allow her anything. She would never need a geas to command me. She was already a ruler, she deserved the credit. The court would eventually adjust to the idea of a human ruler once they recognized her rule. I would lead the most devoted of her court and in our bedroom, I would further prove to her just how devoted I was by spreading --

Nicasia’s hand sliding over my knee snaps me from my thoughts. The touch of her hand felt sickly wrong considering my thoughts of Jude. I brush her hand aside and purposefully ignore the hurt look on her face. I may allow her into my room on nights where even the wine and the powders cannot bring me peace, but she knows I am far too sober and there are too many people around for that.

At the edge of my peripheral I see a dark shadow approaching. The Roach; always a welcomed distraction usually armed with wonderfully bad news.

“Come to tell me of another attempt on my life?” I murmur as he bows down to whisper in my ear.

“You are needed at once, your majesty” the goblin reports.

At that, I laugh but make no effort to move. “There is a first for everything. What is it?” I am happy to use whatever matter it is as an excuse to leave, but I am curious what requires my attention that the spies could not handle themselves.

“Jude has returned. She is waiting to see you.”

His words hit like the hilt of a sword to the chest. I stand, jumping the courtier closest to me.

“I have matters to attend to. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” I say to no one in particular, trying to ignore the loud pounding in my ears as my heart threatens to beat out of my chest.

I begin to follow the Roach out of the room when I feel a hand on my arm.

“What is going on?” Nicasia asks, her eyes wide. I shake out of her grasp.

“It is a matter of great importance that does not concern you.” Instead of moving away, like my body demands to, I move in closer to her so only she can hear me. “I meant my words in the gardens. Do not show up this evening or any evening again.”

Her mouth fell slightly open as water rimmed her eyes. I didn't stay for her response, instead I turned back and followed the Roach into the tunnel, knowing every step was bringing me closer to Jude. As we stalk through the hallways, I cannot slow the questions bombarding my mind.

Did she decide against her life in the mortal world? Did she miss me as I have missed her? What should I say to her? Will she allow me to embrace her? Should I announce her return tonight?

I have envisioned dozens of scenarios of what I would say or do when she returned, but now that she is only a few steps away I have no plan past seeing her, holding her if I can, to make sure she is real and not my imagination come to life.

We take the final turn that I know leads to the headquarters for the Court of Shadows when Livier blocks the doorway.

“Where is she?”

I watch as her face contorts. She opens her mouth to respond before closing it again, clearly unsure how to answer. I don’t have patience for this. I have to see her now.

“Move Livier,” I demand.

How many months has it been since we had fallen asleep together after our vows? How long has it been that I’ve felt her pressed against me?

“Cardan, wait!” She exclaims as I try to move past her. “She doesn’t want to see you.”

I stop dead at her words.

Before I can speak, the Roach asks for me, “What do you mean? She sent us to get him.”

The pixie nods. “Yes. She went to the royal chambers, but she returned soon after and has stated she does not wish to speak.”

I cannot help the bite to my words. “To speak to anyone, or just me?”

Her silence gives me my answer. “Why?” I spit out.

She is on the other side of the wall. It has been months, what about my room could have made her decide against seeing me? A darker thought crosses my mind; what if she has decided to return to the mortal world again? The idea threatens to break me then and there in the dark tunnels beneath the castle.

Livier looks at her companion with unease.

“Why?” I demand again.

The Bomb swallows before explaining, “When she returned, she asked how long you and the Princess of the Undersea had been back together.”

My desperation melted into cruel pitiful laughter. She was jealous of Nicasia, while she had herself a human plaything. The hypocrisy was grand. I wonder how her face would look when I asked about the man and how she could possibly blame me when she broke our vows first. My laughter quickly fizzled into a frozen anger.

I needed to leave before the weight of the situation could bear down on me. In all my imaginations, I never predicted this. I had hoped she’d run to my arms or more realistically, slap me followed up with a kiss. But never returning and refusing to see me.

I want to beg to see her. Beg for her forgiveness. Beg her to stay even if she hates me.

As a king, I have every right to go wherever I please. But as a queen, she has the right to deny entry to anyone. So I turn in the tight hallway and take the turn that leads to my rooms.

She is home. She wouldn’t see me, but she is home, which meant I could fix this. She might not see me tonight, but I would win her forgiveness and maybe her love too.

****

After almost two weeks of announcements and planning, Jude’s coronation ball will begin soon. I have still yet to see her in person, but through messengers and letters she agreed to rule with me and begrudgingly accepted my proposal for a party to celebrate her return and status.

The actual coronation will not take place for another few weeks due to the time needed to gather all the court’s representatives, but this evening would be a full celebration nonetheless. She is home and that enough is cause to celebrate.

The party will also finally force Jude out of the shadows. I suspect she has moved around the castle quite a bit as I heard she met with her sisters and the Living Council, but she has made a careful effort to avoid me.

There have been several times where I have made it all the way to her door before deciding to leave and giving her the space she demands. For months now, I have had dreams of the moment we saw each other again; I have imagined her vulgar words and sweet touches. Tonight is the last night I can imagine because in a matter of hours I will see her again. For the evening, she will have no choice but to stand in the same room as me. I already announced her as my wife and Elfhame’s High Queen. After this evening, she can avoid me outside of official business, if she wishes. It would be devastating, but no more devastating than how it felt when she was gone.

I pace back and forth in my chambers thinking through all the details of the evening since I have nothing better to do. I dressed long ago in a suit twin to the dress I had sent for Jude. If I thought the last dress I designed for her was stunning, I am not sure I’ll be able to survive seeing her in tonight's creation. I gave the tailor a sketch of a silver gown with a fitted bodice and twin streams of fabric that flow from the shoulders. The hope was to create an illusion of the armor she seemed to favor. I doubt the tailor will disappoint and frankly, Jude could wear an old sack and still be devastatingly beautiful.

Before long I receive the signal to head to the ballroom. As I enter the room, I admire for the first time the servant’s efforts to fulfill my image for the evening. The decoration for a typical revel was nothing compared to the fanfare visible this evening. Long strings of lights and streamers hung from the ceiling and sweet and savory treats of all varieties are piled high on trays. The musicians and other entertainment for the evening are already in full swing keeping the guests happy and amused.

As is customary, the party has been going on for some time now, before the king and now queen enter. The center of the space is filled with revelers dancing and singing. At any other party, I would have gladly joined, but I cannot help the pooling sense of unease as I glance through the crowding looking for a particular face.

I do find the face I am looking for, but not the right person. Taryn is standing on the side of the dance floor chatting with some courtier. Locke is nowhere to be seen, which is for the best. If I notice him even causing Jude to frown this evening, I will have him locked in the dungeons for the night.

I occupy myself with some wine while I wait and use the opportunity to boast of Jude’s brilliance to anyone who decides they wish to speak with me. After about a dozen of these conversations, I finally catch a glimpse of her walking into the room with Vivianne at her side.

My Jude.

I admire her with total abandon. She is absolutely stunning. The movement of her steps causes the fabric to shimmer as it flows obscenely over her body. While I will imagine her in this dress for many nights to come, it is the crown that sits atop her head that captures my attention.

The crowd cheers at her arrival and many bow to her. While she keeps her emotions well concealed, I can see the smallest of smiles appear on her face. She enjoys the recognition. Seeing her now, if I could have given her this from the start I would have.

My heart-stopping queen.

I stay to the side where I am and watch her enjoyment from afar. She dances with her sisters from time to time and speaks to members of the gentry with ease. I know she has noted my presence, even if she has yet to look in my direction. When it is time to address the crowd, it is my turn to avoid her direction. I keep my speech to the folk short, enough to praise her and remind anyone who may be considering treason exactly who Jude Duarte is. At the final toast, I steel myself before addressing her directly.

“Welcome home, Jude.”

Our eyes meet for the briefest of moments, burning with a million unspoken words before she breaks away and turns to address the now-growing crowd around her.

It was the first time she acknowledged me since the morning I sent her away and suddenly the emotion behind that realization hits me all at once. I let my eyes linger on her turned back a moment longer, before downing my drink and disappearing into the gardens to wallow in my own self pity.

I told myself I would be happy if she just returned home, but now I realize how badly each moment I spend away from her aches. In school, I hated the way I longed for her. I had chalked it up to being a disgraceful obsession; one I would have been glad to be rid of whatever that meant for Jude. Now, I am equally obsessed with my mortal queen, but rather than having just my thoughts occupied with her, I feel a feral desperation to be near her, to set things right with her.

It is not uncommon for me to be followed, but when I hear soft steps behind me, the last person I expect to turn and see is Jude. Her brown eyes widened in surprise, as if she was not the one following me. We both stare at each other for a half a second too long, before Jude mumbles something and turns to leave. I take her by the arm before she can take a single step away. I won’t let her get away a second time.

“Ask me how hideous you look tonight,” the words tumble from my mouth before I can stop them.

She turns back to face me. I loosen my hold on her arm, but let my hand linger until she decides to brush it away.

“This again?” She asks, sounding more tired than annoyed. I didn’t realize how much I missed her voice.

Desperate to hear her again, I reply, “I can’t. You look like a knight from a story tonight.” A filthy story, perhaps.

Jude’s cheeks pinken as she shifts away from me. If I wasn’t afraid to lose her, I might have found her unease at my closeness cute.

“I’m glad to see the kingdom is still in one piece.” Jude acknowledges, changing the subject away from her. The distance between us feels infinitely greater than the foot of space physically separating us. I’d give anything to embrace her now.

“I had help,” I state simply. It is the truth. The Court of Shadows kept tabs on everyone, friends and enemies, and the Living Council for all the headaches they cause me, they did their job as well.

“Nicasia?” Jude didn’t try or simply failed to hide the accusation in the question.

I sigh heavily and take a seat on one of the garden’s benches. “Ahh that. Yes, it is about time we talked.” I motion for her to join me, to which she refuses.

“I don’t want to hear anything about the two of you. I understand we married out of political strategy, I won’t hold you to human standards of monogamy.” Jude echos my sigh, “After your letters, I thought… Well, I misunderstood the situation.”

My core twists at the way her voice trembled on the words. When did her pain stop being cruel amusement and instead became a twin knife that hurts us both?

“I meant every word in those letters” I murmured softly. How many times had I imagined this conversation before?

Anger burns across her face, “So, what? You got bored of waiting for me to return from the exile YOU-” she jams her pointer finger into my chest hard enough to bruise, “ordered! Maybe next time make sure your letters are actually delivered or perhaps don’t send me away in the first place.”

I stand, challenging her anger with my own. “You think I wouldn’t have waited? I went to bring you home. I saw you dancing with the mortal. Don’t pretend I was the first to stray.”

I expected more anger, denial perhaps, but not... confusion?

“What the hell are you talking about? I haven’t been with anyone else,” Jude yells exasperated.

“The blond male. I came to see you and…” I trail off when Jude laughs suddenly. “What could possibly be funny?”

She covers her face with her hands, shaking her head side to side, “Cardan, you saw me with a friend. Nothing ever happened between us, ever.”

Shame washes over me like a tidal wave. I had returned from that trip thinking Jude had made her decision to forget me and stay behind. I had walked straight into a revel and drank every drop of wine in sight. Nicasia found me a few hours later laying in the grass outside the castle and when she came near I did the one thing I thought would make me feel better.

Nicasia had been the first to notice me, my first real friend then lover. After Jude, I thought she could be the thing I needed again, but I was wrong. It didn’t take long for me to realize it would never be as it was before because my heart still belonged to Jude. If I had only spoken to Jude that night in the mortal world, none of this would have happened.

“I believed the reason for your continued absence was because you were still mad. I thought I could go to the mortal world and convince you to come home, but I saw you with the mortal man. I did not handle the thought of you with another well. Nicasia was there when I got back and… I let her into my bed, but it was you that I thought of every moment you were gone.”

Several emotions ripple across her face before she quickly schooled her face into the impenetrable mask she wears around others. She wears around me too. I continue before the fear of her rejection can stop me.

“There are no tricks within my words, so please hear me when I promise you, Jude, mortal High Queen of Elfhame, it is you I love. My heart is yours and forever will be. There will be no other’s, and if you choose to have me again, it will only be you.”

I raise my hand to cup her face and watch as her eyes flutter close. My name falls off her lips like a plea and I think it might be the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. I lower myself to meet her soft lips. Her hands soon find the front of my jacket and I don't fight when she tugs me closer to her.

Without breaking the kiss, I use my free hand to grip her lower back and pull her back into the garden seat with me. On my lap, Jude opens herself up to me and I greedily take in more of her, missing the taste of her. I can’t help but continue to caress her body with my fingertips, long after we break to catch our breath. I place a series of kisses along her neck, each more drawn out than the last before I speak the cruel fact still on my mind, “of all my terribleness, the worst thing I ever did was what I did to you.”

It hurts knowing I can speak those words aloud. I reach up to wipe a stray tear that has fallen from her eyes.

“Will you have me again, Jude?” My heart pounds in the wake of the question. I watch as she considers it. Truthfully, I wouldn't blame her if she refused me, but it would be torturous to have her so near and not mine.

Slowly, she gives a subtle nod and I don’t hide my sigh of relief. She stares at me for a second longer, before smiling, “I love you, Cardan."

I capture her lips again, finding her more addictive than the sweetest wine.

“My sweet nemesis, how glad I am you have returned.”

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heavenbarnes · 3 years

Text

nothing to lose

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader (18+)

Warnings/Contains: swearing, semi!sub bucky, alcohol mention, stripping (male), oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected sex (please use a condom), spanking, dirty talk

Word Count: 3.5k

I’m trying to get back into writing, believe you me, so please appreciate these lil breadcrumbs I’ll try to keep dropping! In the meantime, I love you all x

Bucky had a way about him when he wanted something from you. He had a turn up in comfy clothes, wine bottle in hand way about him. It was a way that you saw right through, but a way nonetheless. The tricky part was deciphering what he wanted.

Now Bucky wanted a lot of things, he wanted a holiday somewhere warm, he wanted to see Phoebe Cates in Fast Times for the first time again, and he wanted...

How do you put it? He wanted...

You opened the front door to him, in his sweatpants and half-up hair glory, a buttery Chardonnay in his right hand. You immediately shot him a look that either asked “what have you done?” or “what do you need?” Objecting that it was just a friendly house call, he came inside and that’s where you ended up.

Curling in the corner of your couch, knees bent in front of you as your cheeks kept a steady warmth fed by the wine. Bucky sat in front of you, legs spread and taking up room, hands gesturing as he continued his story about a time you’d never understand.

“Wait, you just let this slide?” You questioned, shooting him a puzzled glance.

“You have to remember this is the forties,” He jumped up a bit. “Anyways so!”

Forgetting this meant he had an ulterior motive, you melted into the cushions and into his voice as he kept you giggling as the hours passed. It wasn’t until he spouted stupid ideas like truth or dare that you bit back at him, bringing it round to the beginning.

“Fine, fine, pick truth!” He was in the midst of reminding you that wasn’t how the game went but you managed to have him concede with a grumble of “okay, I pick truth.”

“Why did you come here tonight with the ingredients to butter me up?”

His mouth dropped in surprise, a faux surprise that reminded you Bucky had never really been good at lying. Through stutters he got out his words, “I’ve no idea what you mean!”

“Wine, lush stories from before my time, looking lovely and cuddly?”

“You think I look lovely-“

“Bucky!”

He sighed, leaning forward and taking your glass (much to your protest) and placing it with his on the coffee table. He turned back to you, hands bracing your knees at the bend and looking into your eyes. Whatever he wanted, he wanted it bad, and he was going to make your life hell till he got it.

“Now, you’ve got to promise not to shoot this out of the sky like always!”

And there it was, what you knew in the back of your mind he was here to ask for. The same thing he always asked for when it got late and he got needy and wine dropped your reserves. The cheek of him, huh?

“James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes,” The government name flew off your lips as you stared back at him. “Tell me you did not come all this way to ask for some pussy.”

He wasn’t sure which winded him quicker, the full name and the way it sounded coming off your lips in such a clipped tone, or the fact you said pussy and he needed to hear you say it about a hundred more times. He quickly cleared his mind, getting back to the subject at hand, the one he was determined on.

“Don’t make me sound like a bitch, honey,” he grumbled. “You make me sound like I can’t get any!”

“You can get any, you could walk out onto my street and find any number of people that’d be willing to give it up to you!”

His eyelids dropped, scooting further towards you and gripping your knees harder. It was his turn to call you by your full name, sounding unfairly delicious coming from him. “You know I don’t want just anyone.”

“You know that this,” you flicked your hand back and forth between you two. “This would be detrimental, we work together, we see each other every day.”

“And that is the killer! I see you walking around and kicking ass and looking like everything I ever dreamed of, and I can’t do a damn thing about it.”

You couldn’t help the way your lip rose in a smirk. You knew that Bucky had felt this way about you ever since you helped Sam and Steve track him down. He saw you catch a bullet midair and throw it back, he knew from then he was fucked.

“By the way,” he tacked on the end. “I didn’t come all this way to beg for pussy, I actually enjoy your company and I knew you’d enjoy mine.”

Raising your brows in a “oh, is that right?”, you nodded slowly as your hands came to rest on top of his. “Now, I never said beg, but if that’s what you want to do then maybe we’re talking.”

Bucky’s eyes had fallen out of the early onset of embarrassment, but your words had perked them right up again. He dropped a brow and raised one, urging you to go on. The corners of your lips picked up as everything ticked over in your brain.

Let’s check all the cards on the table, Bucky was unexplainably beautiful, not just in his god-like features but he was right when he said you enjoyed his company. Every time you caught his eyes holding your figure too long, it ignited that little flame burning in you. Lying and hypocrisy weren’t a good look, so there was no use denying that he wasn’t on your mind on lonely nights with only your fingers for company.

“If you want it as bad as you say you do, are you going to work for it?”

Bucky turned closer towards you as you spoke, almost as if he’s unsure of what he was hearing. Your expression gave him a hurry up, until he was clearing his throat. “Of course, yeah of course.”

You brought one of your feet back, pressing the ball of it against Bucky’s thigh and pushing him gently. He quickly got the message and shifted down a bit. Extending your leg, you were able to lay your foot against the crotch of his pants. His eyes moved from his lap before shooting back to you.

“You’ll do whatever I say? You’ll be good and give me what I want?” Pressing your foot down gently, you began to rub it against him as you spoke.

Bucky’s breath caught right in his throat, right hand coming to gently grasp your ankle as you worked against him. “That’s always been it, whatever you want from me, you can have.”

And he had to have been telling the truth, the way you could feel him hardening under the ball of your foot was no lie. Bucky’s head fell back to rest against the top of the couch, eyes closing gently and mouth slightly parting as his fingers drifted up to massage your leg.

His hips stuttered ever so slightly, only the smallest bit and you could’ve missed it if you weren’t so invested with how delicious he looked just then. He was getting harder by the second, pants tightening as you saw the outline of him showing prominently in font of you.

Of course he had a huge dick, of course.

“You want pussy?” You hummed, sliding your foot back and tucking your legs to the side. “You want to eat mine?”

His eyes lit up like he’d been given the world, tongue dipping out against his lower lip and nodding slowly. You turned to place your feet on the floor, beckoning him up and in front of you with one finger. Your mouth curled into an obviously devious smile.

“Strip.”

Bucky was never and will never be a stupid man, he was not impartial to light embarrassment to get what he wants (in fact, it sometimes made him hard). To be honest, you could’ve told Bucky to get starkers on the balcony with the city watching and he would’ve done it, provided he got you in the end.

So there was no qualms and he was pushing off of your knee and stepping into the space between your thighs. Pulling the band from his hair, the strands fell into his face before he brushed them back with a wide span of his hand.

His shirt was the next to go, landing behind him and taught muscles on display. Only natural that your lower lip got tugged between your teeth, until Bucky lent forward and took it between his fingers. He kept leaning in, running his thumb down your lower lip until you were pouting for him.

He was moments away from you, to the point where you each could feel the breath of the other ghosting across your skin. He bridged the infinitesimal gap between you both and lay his lips on yours, tongue immediately finding its way past your teeth.

Of course he was a great kisser, of course.

You fought your inner monologue just enough to place your palms flat on Bucky’s chest and push him back to standing height. “I wanna’ see the rest.”

And he could never deny that girlish smile, whether you were asking him to bring you a drink or rub your back or fetch something off the top shelf. So the way his fingers undid the tie of his sweats, poking into the waistband to draw them down his hearty thighs, told nothing different.

Your teeth gritted together, corners of your mouth dying to quirk up and give yourself away. He just looked so good. Those black briefs were straining, the outline was right there, you almost had it but you held it back.

You wanted to see Bucky on his best behavior.

Rolling the band of his boxers down, your breath caught in your chest. It was a slow descent into insanity as he drew it out and drew it out. You knew it had nothing to do with nerves, everything to do with making you suffer the same way he had.

But soon, they too hit the floor. This time you were pouting without his help.

This man was from another planet, he had to be. He was cut from a cloth that was woven at the hands of God’s and never to be replicated. All that and he was standing in your living room ready to do whatever you asked.

“Good boy.”

You tried your luck and to your reward, Bucky’s eyes lit up like Roman candles (think church, not fireworks), knees buckling slightly in the twinge of excitement that coursed around him and kissed his skin.

He took his own lead, stepping towards you and tucking his fingers around your bottoms to draw them off. You let him, no use arguing when he was doing exactly what you wanted without even having to say it. You even want as far as lifting your hips for him so he could toss your clothes to land with his.

Bucky’s knees hit the floor in front of you, shuffling in and hooking his arms under your thighs, resting them over his shoulders. His eyes were firmly fixed on where you were softest, wettest, where his mind would always wander on cold nights.

He gently flickered his gaze to you, a look that asked permission.

“Go ‘head.”

And his lips were deathly soft against your thighs, and he could say the same about your skin. He could smell you, so close and so mouthwatering that he was conjuring all his untapped strength to not go wild right at the moment.

Bucky had to remind himself he was a good boy.

Lips coasting their way closer he very gently pressed a kiss to your clit, tongue dipping to roll against it as he sucked in the same motion. Immediately a shiver ran the length of your body, thighs tensing against his shoulders.

Buck’s fingers grasped the muscle of your thighs, massaging to loosen them as his mouth continued to work against you. Your hips rolled against his face, back raising off the couch the mouth his lips suckled your sensitive skin.

The back of your brain was yelling at you, asking why you’d taken this long to let him feel this good kneeling at your feet. Part of it was the fun, the thrill of the chase? Watch him squirm a little bit.

Stubble grazed against you with every minuscule motion he made, the tender burn only heightening your sense. You felt your body chase him, still raising off the couch to follow wherever he went.

You watched the movement of his right arm, slow and steady as your eyes followed it down to the wrist. Fingers grasping his length as he only slightly twisted his grasp around it, hips gently cantering into his own touch.

“God damn, Bucky.” You cooed, hand threaded through his hair and tugging slightly.

He only hummed, a rumble that fed straight into you and the way your legs were closing around his head. His tongue still flittered across you, forcing your eyes shut and incoherent cries to fly off your tongue.

And when your orgasm finally hit you, you were trying your hardest to pull back, but that grip he had on you was locked steady. His mouth was pressed to you, determined to work you through the tide of pressure that was breaking over you.

Your eyes rolling back, heels digging into his shoulder blades, his name becoming the only cry you could remember. He pulled back, chin glistening and hand still steadily tugging at himself, smile reflecting your own hazy expression.

“I was thinking,” You started, leaning forward to tuck some hair behind his ear. “I haven’t heard a lot of begging from you.”

Bucky’s eyes widened, head leaning into your touch just slightly as the hand pleasuring himself stopped altogether. He stayed quiet, the realisation dawning on him that he’d managed a pretty sweet run.

Pulling your hand back, you stood from your spot on the couch and headed for your bedroom. You could hear Bucky shuffling behind you, clambering to his feet and following.

“Wait, wait-“

“You’ve just taken whatever you wanted.”

“But you said to go ahead-“

“Not the point, Barnes, I wanted to hear you beg.”

As you pulled your top over your head and tossed it behind you, he followed it like breadcrumbs until he snuck into your room behind you. Barely acknowledging his presence, you situated yourself against the pillows, cocking your head in his direction.

“Baby, you could just be kind and I could wreck that pretty lil’ pussy.”

Raising an eyebrow, your head recoiled as if questioning his seriousness right now. He realized that wouldn’t slide before he got onto the end of the bed, sitting back on his knees.

Palms pressed flat against his thighs, cock still hard as ever, he drew in a deep breath.

“Can I please fuck you?”

Sighing, you drew yours knees up and kept your legs pressed together, seemingly lying in wait.

“You look so fucking good, taste like heaven, like everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Drawing your finger tips against your chest gently, you listened to what more he could conjure up. His eyes narrowed, the situation ticking over in his head. Raising up he moved up the bed until his hands were on your knees, grasping them before pulling them to the side enough for him to slot between.

“Every night, all I can think about is how I need to bury myself in this hot little cunt, bury you into the mattress as you’re crying my name. Every time I see this tight ass bounce past me I just thinking about splitting it open until you’re seeing stars,”

He lent further into you, nearly nose to nose until it was your turn to go bug eyed.

“You’re fucking mean, you’re nasty and you love to torture me cause you know there isn’t a damn thing I wouldn’t do to have you in my lap with your legs wrapped around me. Almost sad part is, I fucking love it, I love being teased by you and I love chasing your damn tail because I know there isn’t anyone else that’d let me do the fucking things I want to do to you.”

His hands left your knees as they came to cup your jaw, drawing you in until his lips nearly touched yours.

“So, for the love of all that is holy, let me flip you over and split you in two.”

Surging forward you locked your lips onto his and drove your tongue into his mouth, making as much purchase as you could. It was filthy, messy and spit slicked and teeth nearly clashing but it was you getting what you want.

“It’s about fucking time you grew a pair.”

“Oh, fuck you-“

Forgoing the tail end of his remark, he wrapped his arms beneath you and pulled you forward and against his chest. Mouths back and messily working together, you fought your way out of his grasp until you were straddling him.

“But you do look so good under me.”

His hand shot up to crack against your ass, sending you forward where he quickly wrestled you into swapping places. Getting you on your front and pulling your hips back until you were arched, his much smoother movements of heavy petting your backside were welcomed.

Keening into him, shaking your ass just a little to get what you want, he grasped both cheeks and spread them. You must’ve looked a sight, still wet from his mouth and just about everything else you two had done, you felt a metal finger running along the length of you.

But part of him didn’t want to wait a second longer as you felt the bed dip with him raising back up to lay his length down the split of your cheeks. Coating it nicely with your slick, you could feel it prodding against you.

As he slid himself in, his chest came to lean against your back, nestling himself within you and getting used to the snug fit.

“Fuckin’ tight, fuckin’ perfect, all mine.”

He listened for your shaky exhale before he drew back, hips lined up and slamming back into you as your arms gave out. Cheek pressed into the blankets and arms out ahead of you gripping onto whatever you could find purchase in.

Bucky found his rhythm, rolling his hips eagerly into you, sounds of skin blending with the pathetic moans he was wickedly good at forcing from you. His grip on you and the way he was living up to his word of fucking you into the mattress, your mouth was dropped open.

It was like he’d fucked all sense out of you, until incoherent little moans about “how good he felt” and “how big he was” were the only things that were swilling about in your brain. You felt remarkably proud of how long you’d kept together the facade of being in control.

“That feel good, baby? Glad you finally let me fuck you like you deserve?”

More senses of agreement tumbled out of you as you gripped the bed and gripped around him, rolling your hips back onto him to try and match his movements. One of his hands splayed between your shoulder blades while the other lay against your ass.

“So fucking mean, but I fucking love it.”

His hand came back and struck down against your ass with a delicious sting, a cry of his name sounding out of you. He massaged over the area, before slipping his hand down to rub against your clit.

“I always knew you wanted to give in,” His chest huffed as he kept powering into you. “But I liked the little game, naughty girl.”

This time has hand drew back and delivered a slap against your clit, your legs shaking against him he pushed you straight towards your end. You felt your lower half clamp right around him, your body tensing up.

“That’s a good girl, fucking come for me.”

Bucky was a good boy, but you were even better.

Doing as told, you felt your whole body come apart as you slumped forward, shaking slightly as Bucky never let up with his thrusts or his fingers. You felt the wetness against your thighs, knowing he’d well and truly fucked it out of you.

His grip on your waist tightened as he pulled you back into him and rolled his hips against you. Impossibly deep and nearly bulging out your belly, Bucky stayed deep inside you as his hips stuttered.

He held you still as he came, raw moans flooded your ears like a choir as you felt a dumbstruck smile make its way across your face. Feeling the weight of him sink onto you as you both collapsed into the bed.

Resting against his chest, tucked into your pillows, you felt him tracing patterns into your back. You tilted your head up, looking towards him with a smile.

“Hey, Bucky?”

“Hmm?”

“Thanks for coming all this way to beg for pussy.”

“Don’t fucking ruin the moment, beloved.”

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky smut #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader

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