#the second one is my favorite of this set

[thetxtdevil]

Scrub Nurse

Nurse!Yeonjun x Doctor!Reader

summary: After the nurse makes you look like a fool in surgery in your opinion, you get into an argument that leads to the nurse putting you into your place.

content: smut, hospital setting (if you don't like anything correlating to blood and anything medical don't read), descriptions of surgery, dom.yeonjun, sub.fem.reader, pinning, restraining, spanking, doggy style, manhandling, and the slightest dacryphilia ?, public sex? kinda

word count: 2.2k

au note: took my sweet time with this one hope you like it, and credit to @aduh0308 for help/support.

A metronome of an EKG echoes through the quiet sterile room, the environment is properly lit, agonizingly bright, but perfect to focus on the patient in front of you. The silence of the room is broken by the first words “Alright everybody we have a Mr. Johnson, a 65 year old, white male presenting with a lovely pulmonary embolism, now let's get this clot out shall we?”

You turn your head to your scrub nurse, glancing down the man’s hand already hovering over the iodine packet and sponge. Your palm reaches out above the patient, “Iodine please, Yeonjun.” The solution lands in your hands firmly, not a chance for it to slip and fall out of the sterile field. That’s how good the scrub nurse was, Yeonjun, the whole surgical staff’s favorite. He has been a scrub nurse ever since he graduated nursing school, long before your surgical internship. Never missed a shift, never made a mistake, always a trustworthy coworker, and there was no way you were going to deny it. You also couldn’t deny that he was unbelievably handsome, his warm brown eyes squint signifying a smile under the surgical mask, little dark hair flipping up from under his white and black starry scrub cap.

Yeonjun is smart, handsome, kind, but also a man-whore. First day of internship rumors circulated in your small group that he hooked up with everybody. You’d roll your eyes and deny the fact, first, that's none of their business, second, we’re all too professional to be hooking up with our coworkers and “doing it” in the hospital. Oh how wrong you were, when little innocent surgeon wannabe you walks into a supply closet to witness your surgical resident getting fucked dumb by none other than, Nurse Yeonjun.

It was a hard pill to swallow because he wasn’t the only one. Not only did you have to learn the extensive material of saving lives but you also had to dodge the overly attractive men working with you. You didn’t know if it was all the sad deaths or the burnout but you felt like they were everywhere fucking everybody. You soon learn that's the way of a hospital, a business that wants your money, employees that work until they are their own cause of death, and it is a building full of horny people.

You bite your lip in concentration and the fact that the man who you’ve seen his naked ass a few too many times is standing so close. Eyes locked on the open chest of the patient, your skilled eyes can easily identify the pulmonary artery and the exact spot of the clot. One by one a tool is given to you, “Yank-” the suctioning tool is already in your grasp.

You look at the man, “The yankauer, Doctor” he says as you know that he has a smirk under that mask.

“Getting a little ahead of yourself aren’t you?” you say looking back into the cavity suctioning out the loose embolus.

“No doctor, ok maybe a little.”

“Are you bored of me, nurse?” Yeonjun’s eyebrow quirks up when you exaggerate his title. He leaves the conversation at that so you can continue to focus on the surgery. The clot was removed, blood flow restored, the chest cavity was put back into place and it was now time to close the incision site. “Staples.” Yeonjun says with the item waiting in his hand.

“No, no I want sutures.” Yeonjun shifts on his feet and stares at you. With a little nudge forward of the tool you stare at the item contemplating. Suddenly you feel your feet ache from hours of standing your brain trying to tell you to go for the faster option in front of you. This is a big incision and the healing rate is quicker if staples are used. Rolling your eyes, your gloved hand stretches out, “staples.”

%%%

You’re sitting down outside the operating rooms, taking your little sterile booties off. You couldn’t help but stare at your scrub nurse, perfect posture at the rolling desk-cart, already chewing his habit gum while charting. You didn’t like how he was telling you what tools you needed in surgery, irritated at each crack of bubble and his sharp jaw clenching at every chew, but you again couldn’t deny how handsome he looked. Picking yourself off the bench grabbing your white coat on the way to Nurse Yeonjun. His hair in his face looking through his eyelashes sees you in front of him all the while a big pink bubble pops. Taking a deep breath for encouragement you ask, “so do you want to grab a drink after the next operation?”

“Thanks for asking but I’m meeting with the other scrub nurses”

“Ah yes you nurses always like to stick together” you say as you pick at the ridges of the desk, annoyed, “and always have to prove themselves better than doctors.”

Another gum bubble pops, Yeonjun leans over the desktop getting closer to you, “Aw does precious not like that I know how to do her job better?”

You straighten your posture trying to look bigger than the man, “That’s doctor to you” Yeonjun rolls his eyes, “now nurse I want you to get this surgery prepared in time”

“Well doctor princess, I’ll do that for you if you show your nurses a little more respect.”

You’re shaking of anger at his low judgment, the man smirks looking around the room. Your eyes follow to find out that everybody’s attention is on you two. Yeonjun logs out of the computer, spitting his gum out in the trash, before grabbing your wrist dragging you to the nearest empty on-call room. “W-what are you do-ah” you words interrupted by gasp as Yeonjun pushes you into the door.

“I’ve seen more than your little doctor eyes have seen, I might not have many years of education but I have the experience” Yeonjun spits his words, face so close, one hand on your waist while the other locks the door behind you.

“I’ve gone through years of school to not get orders from a nurse.” The nurse scoffs, “We’ll see about that.”

Yeonjun’s plush lips crash into yours so rushed and harsh your head bangs on the wooden door. He tugs away your scrub cap, unraveling your hair at the same time. You squirm at the feeling of the man’s hands finding their way under all your layers of clothing to rub the soft skin of your waist. Your hands reach up to drag your fingers through Yeonjun’s hair but he was not letting that happen. His big hands grab both arms, pinning them over your head making you squirm more as he grinds his half hard dick against your core.

“I know what you say about me,” you whine out of confusion, his lips grazing yours as he speaks, “words get around fast around here, words like you calling me a man-whore.” You would feel embarrassed but it was hard when his soft lips felt so nice on your neck while his cock so easily felt thanks to the thin material of the scrub pants. “But I know those words don’t mean shit especially when I see you drooling over me,” your half lidded eyes look into his dark ones, “just like that precious, even when you’re in someone else’s heart you look at me like you want me to fuck you right there.”

One hand still pinning your hands as the other slips under your seafoam green pants. His long fingers slip into your panties making your hips jut out. Yeonjun hisses when he feels your smooth slick making it easy to slide a finger in your cunt. Moans muffled by his lips as his fingers stretch you out and curl making your legs weak. So weak that your knees actually buckle, stumbling a bit before catching yourself. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Yeonjun, “what’s the matter pretty, can’t handle a few fingers in your cunt.”

“I-its the ah- long surgery” you try to deny the fact that the nurse has you melting.

“If that's so, let me put you in a different position.”

Yeonjun’s fingers slip out of your folds to be pushed into his mouth. You’d admire the filthy sight before but his other hand had you whipping around to the uncomfortable cots. The springs squeak as you fall into the cushion, looking up at the man watching as his fingers pop out of his mouth. He tugs the green scrub top over your head, “so a pretty surgeon can’t handle my fingers standing up but she can stand for hours on end, that’s cute,” he kisses your shoulder as his hand unhooks your bra, “wonder if you’ll be able to stand after I’m done with you.”

Your heart rate was pulsating, if you were hooked up to a heart monitor they surely would call an emergency code blue on you. Yeonjun knows it too, studying your body, noticing your rise of breathing rate and his lips on your neck could clearly feel your carotid pulse heightened. Taking your bottoms off, he smiles at the big damp patch on your underwear slipping them off to meet your pants on the floor. “Flip over, ass up,” you do what he said, losing the battle of superiority quickly much to Yeonjun’s surprise, but he wasn’t complaining. Taking off his clothes, he licks his red lips appreciating the sight of your plump ass and pussy patiently waiting for him. His hand slides up your inner thigh, listening closely to your whimpers as his finger tips touch your wet folds once more. You bite your lip trying to stop yourself from telling Yeonjun to do something instead you move your hips against his fingers.

 “Be patient” he hisses as he slaps your cunt, you cry out from the sensitivity, “aren’t good doctors supposed to be patient?” You whine, Yeonjun’s fingers tease your folds making you wetter to the point your dripping down your thighs. His other hand grazes your ass cheek, gripping them to spread you open every now and then. Yeonjun couldn’t deny that you were also one of the most attractive coworkers. He actually has been wanting to see you like this for awhile ever since you caught him during your internship. It was common for doctors to downgrade the nurses and he has learned to ignore it, but he took it as a chance to get you riled up. Looking at your ass then to your face, your neck stretching so your eyes can meet his, pleading, “Please Yeonjun.” Yeonjun reaches next to your head into the drawers knowing all too well that there was a convenient box of condoms in it. You lick your lips watching the man slide the condom on his stiff pink dick. You gasp again when he smacks your ass before positioning himself. Face falling into the flat pillow as Yeonjun pushes his fat cock slowly into you, stretching your hole deliciously, agonizingly.

“Mmm- more” your muffle getting another slap on your cheek. Yeonjun’s head was thrown back relishing in the feeling of your tight pussy around him, “so needy n’ so tight.” His slow movements quicken into your core making the cot’s springs squeak as loud as your moaning, head bobbing as the cheap bed moves in its spot. He leans over pecking your shoulder, “making me think you don’t do this often” he chuckles, “no wonder you’re so tense.”

You felt more tense right now since his dick was pounding harshly into you. Your insides were rearranged so much so you didn’t realize how loud you were being. "Gonna fuck you til you can't even remember your name, let alone operate like you're supposed to." Everything in your body felt like it was burning the stretch of your cunt, the friction of your folds, the teasing rubs of his hands on your ass. Each groan and hiss he made had you clenching around him. You whine, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten, “J-jun ‘m cummin.”

“Hmm I don’t know if I should let you.” he teases knowing there’s no way you could hold yourself back.

“Please, oh god- please” you scream out stretching your neck again to show your teary eyes. Yeonjun’s eyes roll back loving how fucked you looked. You came on his cock before he could say anything else resulting in Yeonjun thrusting hard to reach his high cumming into the wrap. “Shit” you both say in unison and collapse on the small bed close to its breaking point.

Yeonjun kisses your shoulder once again slipping out of you, throwing away the dirty condom. You rolled onto your back brushing your sweaty hair out of your face. Stunned by a passionate kiss on the lips by Yeonjun, “We should do this again sometime, Doctor.”

“I’ll put that in your orders, Nurse Yeonjun.”

%%%

Later that night Yeonjun stands in the operating room waiting for the surgeon to arrive at the table. He looks over his perfectly placed tools checking yet knowing he has everything in place for the surgery. The quiet room is disturbed by the air tight door opening by the surgeon. You walk in with clean hands, Yeonjun’s eyes scan your form as you dress into a gown and glove. It was dark in the room for the type of surgery but he still noticed the slight limp in your strut. Only he knew why you were in a bit discomfort, well, him and the others that were around the on-call room.

A nuisance,

TxT's Devil

taglist: @inkigayocamman, @naoristerling

[kisakis-boyfriend]

🎃 nsfw headcanons for fyodor, nikolai, and sigma (+dazai and chuuya if you’d like) with a werewolf s/o?

Author's Note: I'll do Dazai and Chuuya in a separate post, thanks to tag limitations 😔

Pairings: Fyodor, Nikolai, Sigma x male reader (separately)

Warnings: Male werewolf!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!characters, mentions of breeding, knotting, biting, scratching, leashing, mindbreak (Fyodor), virginity kink (Sigma)

Fyodor

The 'fake dom' Slut

Fyodor likes to pretend that he's in control, but really, who's he fooling?

Trying to control a semi-feral beast. Yeah, good luck, buddy

You'll allow our favorite skinny Russian to put you on a leash, but it's only because you know that he can't hold onto it while you're railing the brains out of him

Fyodor is literally folded in half in a mating press, drooling like a whore. And you're loving every second of it

He definitely keeps track of the moon cycles — clearing his schedule on full moons and coming up with an excuse to be around you those nights

If your human form is also bigger/taller/more muscular than him; Fyodor will swoon

Not that he wouldn't swoon anyways, no matter what your human form looks like. He's just possibly got a little size kink 🤐

Nikolai

The Overt Slut

Nikolai is so not subtle…

"Oh my, what sharp teeth you have. You could totally bite me and make me bleed haha :)"

"Such sharp claws… it would be a shame if you accidentally scratched me with them!"

"What a big, thick cock! I could never take one that big… unless? 👀"

He'll sit next to you, knowing that you can see his phone screen, and look at werewolf knotting porn 😐

I mean, literally. NOT subtle in the least

Nikolai loves when you take control and breed all of his little holes

Just manhandle him and cover him in your seed please. You'll have a very happy jester in your possession

Personally, I think Niko has higher than average stamina; so he'd be able to go quite a few rounds, even after you knot him. If you want to keep rutting into him, he's all the happier ☺️

Sigma

The Shy Slut

“I am not taking that! You'll never fit!”

30 minutes later, Sigma is crying as you pound the virginity out of him

Sigma acts like he doesn't enjoy being filled and having some rough sex, but it's just his insecurities, really

If you make him feel loved, he will eventually agree to certain things :)

Always screaming "I can't take it!" Or "it won't fit" but, again, none of that is true

Sigma easily becomes your moaning slut once your dick is fully sheathed within his gummy walls

Full moons make him nervous — he, conveniently, hangs out with you on those dates though…

Sitting in your lap as the sun sets, cupping your face and requesting kisses too

In a rare, confident display, your pretty boy will ask you to fuck him in your werewolf form all on his own

Still complains about his sore ass and the scratches covering his body tomorrow though 😶‍🌫️

[kissitbttr]

small prologue from frat!sukuna

*gojo finally has you!*

-

gojo satoru is a man with many things.

he’s rich, handsome, smart, popular. a number one heartthrob on campus and he’s enjoying every second of it.

and you’d think that a man who has it all wouldn’t be seen asking for more. because what could’ve he wanted more than what he has now?

well,

he wants you.

“i don’t understand why you keep resisting me. why do you keep thinking about him?! i can treat you better!”

gojo is in fact very much stubborn. soon as he heard what sukuna has done to you, he can’t stay silent any longer. he needs to save you. he needs to see you. he needs to hold and kiss you.

he needs you. period.

so he confesses everything. the bottled up feelings he has over the last few months. the only problem is that you don’t believe him. and even if you were, what are the chances of gojo is only here to play with your feelings?

but he’s determined to make you think differently,

“gojo you are not thinking straight—“

he scoffs, shaking his head at you being so hard headed. “y/n! for once, i have never been so sure and set for what i have in mind than i am right now! i care about you! i love you, why are you so—argh!”

“he’s your best friend! how could you so easily say all that to me knowing me and him were together at some point?!” you cross your arms, looking up at him with a hard look that he somehow loves.

again, gojo groans, flaring his arms up before bringing them down. “jesus, we still on that?! why is that pink haired mother fucker has you wrapped around his finger while i’m here begging to be wrapped around yours?!”

you stand still. trying your best to not to get his words affects you despite your unusual beating heart says otherwise.

you have never seen gojo satoru so worked up. hands on his hips, eye brows scrunched as if he’s thinking hard on which ass he has to beat

(keyword:sukuna)

“i don’t care if he’s my best friend” he says with a softer tone, pretty blue eyes looking intently into yours. “I don’t care if we’re in the fraternity and how that makes us frat brothers…because I cannot tolerate the fact that he hurt you”

and another thing? you have never seen gojo acts so soft,

so putty… so careful with his words… so..

in love

“the one girl who i have strong feelings for during the time he had you… the only girl who has me feeling excited to wake up each morning and look forward to see every day…the only girl who’s got the guts to call me out on my shit” he takes another step closer to you, and he finds a relief to see you’re not stepping back,

his eyes study your features. each and every single one of it.

you are so damn gorgeous, it is driving gojo insane.

“and i am in love with her” he says it again that night with confidence, his hands move slowly to cup your cheeks and make you look at him. “all i’m asking for is a chance… that’s all”

“tell me what i have to do to make you trust me… that i’m not here to play with your feelings”

speechless. is the only thing you feel right now. you can’t exactly form any sentences because it feels like everything is on halt.

what do you say to your old hookup’s best friend that he’s in love with you? and how do you feel about this?

it’s not that you don’t love him back, in fact? it could be the opposite.

he, among the many friends of sukuna is the only one who always checks up on you. during parties, he’d make sure to keep you hydrated because you don’t drink as much alcohol. he’d make sure to have you eat your meals. he’d make sure that you get home safe after class or your part time job. gojo also makes sure that you receive as much as praises you need for the time you got A on your criminal justice class or won a case,

and he’d be sure to tell you, he’s got a taste of your homemade soft cookies that you made. ispahan is his favorite.

maybe gojo satoru is made for you.

“you are so… dumb and pathetic, satoru” you shakily whisper, though make no attempt to remove his hands from you,

he lets out a small laugh, nodding.

“i can be that, baby” he replies, resting his forehead on yours,

“i can be whatever it is you want me to be as long as i get to call you mine”

[writeriguess]

Hi, could you do bakugou x reader (couple) where he forgets the reader's birthday? For work reasons I request that it be fluff ;3. ty.

It had been a long day, and you found yourself lounging on the couch, staring at the phone screen. The notification center remained painfully silent—no texts, no missed calls, nothing. Today was supposed to be special. Today was your birthday, and yet… nothing.

Your chest ached with a familiar, bitter feeling. Katsuki had been swamped with hero work lately. You understood—he was always busy saving lives, training, and striving to be the best. But you couldn't help the little sting of disappointment as the hours passed without a single word from him.

"Maybe he's planning something," you whispered to yourself, hugging a pillow close to your chest. Yet, deep down, you weren’t so sure.

The sun was already beginning to set when you heard the front door creak open. Bakugou entered, his usual scowl in place, his hair messy from the long day. He kicked off his boots and slung his hero jacket over a nearby chair.

"Hey," you greeted, voice quieter than usual.

He grunted in response, walking over to grab a glass of water. You watched him closely, waiting—hoping—for some sign that he remembered. But he just stood there, chugging the water, then rubbing the back of his neck like nothing was out of the ordinary.

The silence stretched between you, thick and heavy.

"You okay?" he finally asked, noticing the way you were staring at him.

You blinked, forcing a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Liar," he muttered, narrowing his eyes.

You bit your lip, unsure if you should bring it up. You knew he didn’t mean to hurt you, but the disappointment was hard to shake. Finally, you sighed, setting the pillow aside.

"It's my birthday today, Katsuki."

His reaction was immediate—he froze, the glass in his hand clattering down onto the counter, spilling some water. His crimson eyes widened in shock, a look so rare on him that it would’ve been funny under different circumstances.

"Shit," he whispered, and the way his voice dropped sent a pang through your heart. "I… I forgot."

You nodded slightly, trying to shrug it off. "It's fine. I know you've been busy."

But Bakugou wasn’t having it. He cursed under his breath again, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated with himself. "No, it’s not fine. I—damn it—I can’t believe I forgot."

His fists clenched at his sides, eyes filled with regret. "I’m sorry, okay? I’m… I’m an idiot."

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden vulnerability. Bakugou wasn’t one to apologize easily. He was too proud, too stubborn. But there he was, standing in front of you, looking guilty, looking like he genuinely wanted to make things right.

Before you could respond, he crossed the room in three large strides and pulled you into his arms. The sudden warmth of his embrace made you melt, all the frustration you had felt dissolving at the way he held you close.

"I’ll make it up to you," he mumbled into your hair, his grip tightening. "I swear."

You chuckled softly, resting your head against his chest. "You don’t have to, Katsuki. I get it. You’re busy, and—"

"Shut up," he interrupted, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. His gaze was intense but soft, the way only Bakugou could be. "I’m making it up to you."

You couldn’t help but smile at his determination. "Fine. What do you have in mind, then?"

He grinned, that familiar cocky smirk that always made your heart skip a beat. "You’ll see. Just… give me a second."

With that, Bakugou moved quickly, grabbing his phone and disappearing into the bedroom. You heard him muttering on a call, probably making some last-minute arrangements. You couldn’t help but laugh quietly to yourself. Typical Katsuki—stubborn, but always determined to do things his way.

Less than an hour later, Bakugou reemerged, this time looking much more composed. He had changed into something more casual, and in his hands were two takeout bags—your favorite food, from your favorite restaurant.

"I know it’s not fancy or anything," he began, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "But I thought we could just… stay in, eat, and I dunno, maybe watch some stupid movie together."

You stared at him, your heart swelling at the effort he was making. "Katsuki… this is perfect."

He scoffed, cheeks tinged with pink. "Damn right it is."

You spent the evening eating, laughing, and just enjoying each other’s company. And when the night grew late, Katsuki pulled you into his lap on the couch, holding you tightly as you watched the movie. His hand absentmindedly ran through your hair, and for a moment, everything felt perfect.

"I really am sorry," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"I know," you whispered, smiling softly. "But you made up for it."

He chuckled, low and warm, before tightening his arms around you. "Damn right I did."

Requests are open. Send as many as you like.

[yeonbinwyd]

Can you do Heesung next? Thank you 🥹

of course!! rest of the hyung line next??

after party

pairing: sub fem!reader x softdom! heesung

synopsis: you had been friends with Heesung for some time. You always felt there was sexual tension between you two but he wouldn’t admit it. After one night out for an event turns into too much drinking, the truth comes out.

genre (w/tags): smut, minors dni, breeding kink, romantic?, mentions of alcohol.

a/n: I personally think heesung would be the biggest baby when drunk and begs for attention being all needy.

Word count: 1127

“Whats up with your phone? You’ve been blowing up all night.” You were at dinner with your best friend. She had asked in an irritated tone. “It’s just a friend. He’s super drunk right now and he wants to meet up” you explain.

“He??? Wants to meet up” she’s now intrigued.

“Stop he’s just a friend. I think he just needs some support. “ you continued. She pursed her lips together and shook her head. He was lucky you both were warping up dinner and were about to go separate ways. You two spilt the bill and went off your own ways. He had been in front of a boba shop that still open, hands in pockets, leaning against a bike rack. He was bright red, trying to cover his face until he saw you.

“Heeey” he coos “I’m so glad to see you! Let’s get some boba and something to eat! I’m starving.” Heesung requests throwing his arm over your shoulder. He puts his weight on you, standing over you. Managing him while drunk was going to be tough.

You listened to his request and got him his favorite tea with something solid to eat. When you brought them back to him, he was beyond excited, he even kissed your cheek.

“You’re a life saver! Thank you!! “ he doesn’t waste any time and takes them both in. You both sit outside since he was being obnoxiously loud but it was the one thing you really enjoyed about him.

“You know you’re the only one I really trust when I’m like this.”

He confesses. You’re not surprised since you haven’t drank once during the entire time of their friendship.

“I’m so glad you’re in my life.” He adds while taking a bite of his chicken. With furrowed brows you glance back at your phone, shoving off his comment. He scoots closer beside you.

“I mean it” he whispers in your ear, wrapping his arm around your waist. You can’t take him seriously and laugh in his face.

“You can’t be for real right?

“You don’t think I can be serious?” He asks while giving the saddest eyes.

“Not in the slightest. At least not while you’re drunk. “ you set him straight but he doesn’t want to give up. Heesung scoots even closer, leaning in to kiss your lips. You let him, tasting the taro tea he had been drinking lingering on his mouth. He cups your face, trying to deepen the kiss but you pull away.

“No wait” you stop him.

“Too much?” He backs away to give you space.

“No I like it. ” without a second thought, you grab his hand, causing him to leave his snacks where you two were sitting. You two get in the backseat of your car and continue the kiss. He smirks while pressing his lips on yours, feeling victorious. Heesung hugs your hips making you to sit on his lap. His kisses turn into little nibbles, caressing your collar, nuzzling in your neck. His glorious moans.

“I really feel at home with you.” He admits hugging you snug. You give him a shy smile but he can’t see you in the dark backseat. You grab his chin, smiling into the kiss. Heesung takes the hint and holds you closer. Him being drunk have him the courage to make a move. He just wanted to gush his feelings for you nonstop.

I can’t stop thinking about you.

I want you to be mine.

Can we be together?

All thoughts of his running through his head. As his tongue dominates the kiss, he starts to shed off his clothes, while you do the same. You take off your shirt, exposing your breasts to him. His eyes widen in excitement. Heesung rotates your hips to grind against him. Throwing his head back, exposing his Adams apple, he moans lowly. He grinds back, forcing you to groan in return. He starts to bury his face in your chest while placing kisses, worshiping them.

“Can I fuck you baby?” He begged, face still red and flush.

“Please” you beg in return. You get off his lap to have him undo his pants. His hard on, soaked in pre cum was ready for you. Lifting up your skirt then shifting your panties to the side, you glide down. You were equally as wet, wanting him for so long too. You cry out at his massive girth causing you to not move yet. Concerned, Heesung places kisses on your cheek.

“Take your time” he instructs. You don’t give up and prop your hands on his shoulders. He leans back against the car seat, as you take control. As you ride him, he looks almost in tears, overwhelmed with the pressure he’s received. He grips your hips, helping you move up and down. Each move, bringing him closer and closer. He spreads your ass cheeks for a better hold. It makes you even feel even better than before. Your eyes rolling back, nails digging into his skin, leaving indents, he feels so good you don’t want to stop.

“That’s it you’re doing well” he encourages. He loves looking up at you, taking his cock like a champ. He knew you were the one, it solidified it for him. He laid you flat on your side, lifting your leg up to get in better. He grunts as he enters, feeling overwhelmed with pleasure again. Heesung hugs your thigh, while thrusting in you. He sinks himself into your neck, close to your ear. He feels himself getting deeper and closer.

“I’m keeping you. You’re mine now.” He demands as his strokes become stronger and out of control. You can feel his cock hitting your cervix. He whines lowly while his cum begins to pour out. You can feel him feeling you up but he doesn’t stop there. Heesung lays you flat, with both legs over his shoulders. He takes you in again.

“Make me cum again baby. Make me cum for you.” He commands as he doesn’t lose his pace. You just trying to catch your breath. You panting and wipe the sweat from Heesung’s forehead. Infatuated with you, he kisses your lips, biting down as you both groan for each other.

“I’m close baby. Cum for me” you request.

“Yes I’ll do whatever you want.” He goes so fast that he makes you squirt on the two of you. He cums violently after. He holds onto, not wanting to let go and pull out. Heesung lays his head on your chest in the most needy way. Covered in sweat he helps you get dress and glances at the time. At this point the fucking made him sober up.

“So we should talk huh?” He brings up.

[naeverse]

Fortis Et Liber (2/2)

 A/N: Hi everyone, here is the second and final part of, 'Fortis et Liber.' The love expressed for this story has been greatly appreciated so I hope you all enjoy the conclusion of it. Also...I might have something in the makings for you guys so...stay tuned. 😏

👑⚔️staring: Kingsguard!Miguel x Fem!princess Reader

    🔷 Preview:  You were the future of Valoria, and he was but a Kingsguard sworn to protect you—the very duty he had accepted when he was given his cloak.

His hidden desires and thoughts for you needed to cease. 

They must…

“Let us…put our swords away, Your Grace,” Miguel stated, his voice hoarse, deep, and strained, but unable to break his gaze from yours. He waited for you to remove his sword from his neck, his body tense, heart pounding in his chest, with a silent plea to the gods to keep him from making a grave error here—far from the Kingdom and in the seclusion of this very forest.

You gulped, almost missing his suggestion. Nodding slowly, you drew his blade away from his throat, setting it on the grass nearby; but you found yourself incapable of moving from the spot atop him.

Your eyes roamed his face once more, finding the Kingsguard of age eight-and-thirty years old to be exceptionally alluring. You’d always found him attractive, often marveling that this was the man chosen to protect you until the end of your days.

Yet, despite your constant fascination, he seemed to have a new glow to him—a glow that made you meet his conflicted amber orbs, and your own eyes to flood with desire.

“I-I believe…I deserve a reward for my victory, Sir Miguel,”

💜summary:  Being the Princess of Valoria comes with expectations of being proper, respectful, caring, and, above all, perfect. However, such a title is one you detest. You seek escape to your hidden meadow in the forest to indulge in your favorite yet forbidden pastime—swordfighting—a hobby you grew to love from observing your Kingsguard, Sir Miguel O’Hara, practice in the training yard. With this adoration for the blade, nevertheless, come taboo feelings towards the one meant to safeguard and protect you until the end of his days.

Sir Miguel O’Hara, since his early days as a knight, has learned the importance of remaining dedicated to his duties and keeping his cloak unsullied. With a raging temper, brooding aura, and an undefeated reputation in combat, the Kingsguard takes his duty seriously and handles any misdeeds with an iron fist. Yet, he harbors improper feelings for his charge, you, the Princess of Valoria. Upon discovering you training once again in your secret glade in the nearby forest, Sir Miguel finds himself torn between his duty and his own desires once more.

💎tw/cw: Age Gap, Body Worship, Cockbulge, Class differences, Cunnilingus, Desperation, First time (kinda), Forbidden love, Oral Sex, Outdoors Sex, Power Difference, Virgin Y/N

🪻Pet names: Cariño (Darling), Querida (Dear), Mi Amor (my love), Alteza (Your highness), Princesa (princess) 

    💙 Rating: 18+ explicit I SMUT I

💜 Word Count: 7.9k

The first part of Fortis et Liber >> Click here

“I do wish to express that despite your teachings of the basics, sword fighting is extensive, Sir Miguel.” You explained with a small smile, eyes tracking every feature upon the older male’s face. “One can learn uniquely and expand upon the skill on their own, and with the many times I ran off to practice…

I have no doubt that I can take you, Sir Miguel.”

The statement was utter idiocy; no guard, being, or man of their right wits would challenge Sir Miguel O’Hara, Valoria’s Kingsguard and royal guard willingly, and yet, here you were doing so.

You couldn’t help feeling brave for saying such a thing, but also like a fool, already seeing your future with you on the ground just like the rest of Sir Miguel’s past opponents.

Miguel eyed you for a mere moment, wondering if he’d misheard your words.

‘A challenge with the Princess of Valoria? A sword fight, no less?’ The idea was not only audacious but foolish to agree to. The mere thought of a speck of dust tarnishing your dress was enough to worry the Kingsguard, let alone a fight aimed at victory.

The Latino Kingsguard rested a hand on his sword hilt, mirroring your stance subconsciously. An amused smile graced his normally scowling lips despite his reluctance about the duel. “I admire your courage and confidence, my lady, but my duty is to protect you, not to harm you in any way,” he said with a grin, tapping his metal thumb on the pommel of his sheathed blade.

“And I stand by my words. I taught you the basics, alteza. The techniques I’ve shown you are the most rudimentary of what the royal guards learn. There’s a vast chasm between the knowledge I possess and what you’ve acquired without my tutelage,” he continued, stepping closer to you.

The natural scent of grand berries and flowers enveloped his senses—an aroma he secretly adored. As anticipated, his words made your beautiful eyes roll in irritation.

“Why must you always see me as the Princess of Valoria?” you asked with a sigh, crossing your arms over your chest, causing your bosom to push up over the collar of your dress. “There is no one here, Sir Miguel.” You gestured to emphasize the empty clearing of grass and trees.

“The Kingdom is a horseback ride away, and here, in this clearing, Sir Miguel,” you said, stepping closer to him and looking up to meet his eyes.

“Here, I’m simply Y/N.”

The smirk that spread across your lips stirred something in Miguel—different from the usual interest he felt when you made contact or brushed too closely. This smirk wasn’t of the princess he’d always known; for once, he believed he’d caught a glimpse of Y/N…

The sight made his heart race and his gauntlet hand grip the hilt of his sword. As if enchanted, Miguel said something he would never have said before to his princess.

“Fine, draw your sword, Your Grace.”

The words slipped from his mouth, and before he could retract them, he saw the huge grin that overtook your face.

Never had he seen you beam so brightly as when he offered to be your first opponent—the first person to challenge your skills.

Mierda, what a monster he would be to take away that happiness from you.

So instead of worrying and being, as you might call him, a lump on a log, Miguel gave you a smirk of his own. His eyes locked with yours, the challenge clear in his gaze. “You can’t just bare your teeth and not show action, Your Grace. Show me you can take me,” he taunted, pulling his longsword free from its sheath with a hiss of cold steel.

Your heart beat rapidly against your chest as your breath hitched at his gaze. Never in your life had you imagined being on the opposite end of your Kingsguard’s blade, and oddly, it filled you with excitement.

You grinned, drawing your own sword from its sheath on your hip. “Why, would you like to stretch first, Sir Miguel? I wouldn’t want you to pull a muscle,” you jested playfully. To your surprise, your Kingsguard laughed, his deep chuckle echoing through the forest clearing, warming your heart.

“I believe my muscles should be the least of your worries, Princesa,” he teased. “I’ve had years of experience, fought in countless battles, and faced real enemies.” He acknowledged with a prideful sneer.

“So let us see if your practice alone can overcome my years of training, alteza.” He took his fighting stance before you—a stance you had seen many times before, his longsword drawn and poised, the sun’s dappled rays reflecting off his raised blade.

“Ready when you are, Y/N.”

A warmth engulfed you at the sound of your name on his lips and the playful wink he gave you. Normally, his speech was harsh, every word delivered roughly and authoritatively, but now, he spoke your name gently, almost delicately, as if safeguarding you even through simple utterances.

Your eyes traced Sir Miguel, noting his stance and attributes that you had observed many times before—his towering height, burly arms, and the strength that could take one’s breath away with just a jab.

After a brief but thorough observation, you gave your Kingsguard a curt nod, showing your readiness.

Taking a deep breath, you assumed your stance—a quitte different one from your Kingsguard and teacher. You placed a foot forward, the other back, slightly bending your knees and relaxing your posture above the waist. Your body showcased an air of control and readiness as your sword was held lightly in your palms, angled downward but prepared to strike at any moment.

Every muscle in your frame was coiled like a spring, ready to unleash the skills you had learned over the past two years before the male who had inspired and taught you. Without a word, you pushed off the ground, sprinting towards that very man.

Your footsteps were featherlight, racing across the grassy field to strike his blade with your own. For a brief moment, your eyebrows rose at his speed, meeting his gaze to catch sight of the rumored red glint in his amber eyes. The sight only encouraged your efforts.

Pouncing away, you followed up with a series of attacks, your swords clashing and echoing through the trees like a recurring melody played upon a music sheet—occasionally faltering only to be picked up again, following the same notes repeated once more.

Miguel’s eyes tracked your movements, noting how graceful yet lethal each of your strikes was. Every swing of his sword met another from you, but always in a different location than the last.

The Kingsguard was pleased; your speed and agility impressed him. He could see faults and errors he could exploit, but to his surprise, your defense was as exceptional as your offense.

Miguel’s heavy footsteps moved across the grass, parrying your attacks with ease. His face remained stoic, but the corner of his mouth twitched in admiration. His arms moved like the wind, countering blows with fluid precision.

Suddenly, he crashed his blade against yours, halting your movements. His eyes locked with your determined ones through the clash. “Impressive, Y/N, but I will not hold back any longer. You’ll feel the full force of your Kingsguard, so prepare yourself.” He growled, tossing your sword back with his own, causing you both to separate. The force made you stumble, but you quickly regained your balance.

You breathed heavily, trying to catch your breath while circling your protector. “Then I shall await your full force, Sir Miguel.” You replied with a grin, noticing how his amber eyes seemed to darken to a scarlet at your words, his bushy eyebrows knitted together and his face devoid of all emotion.

Instead of awaiting your attack, you watched as your Kingsguard lunged. Briefly, your eyes widened as you countered his powerful strike with your own blade, feeling the force of his attack send you staggering back.

Miguel hummed in approval, watching you hold your own against his overwhelming jabs. Using his size, speed, and strength, he attacked you fully, promising to not hold back any longer. When he saw an opening, he took it without hesitation.

Pushing your steel away from him, he lightly jabbed the leather hilt of his sword into an unguarded spot on your side, surprising you. In that moment of shock, he spun his longsword in his massive hands, delivering a heavy blow to your weapon, sending it flying into the grass and leaving you unarmed. Miguel smirked, landing the final blow with a low swing of his blade, tripping you in one swift motion.

Everything happened in a blur—the attack to your torso, your sword escaping your grasp, and the sweep to your ankles that sent you crashing to the ground. You landed on your back with a groan. Your world felt dizzy for a moment, eyes screwing shut in pain from the rough collision with the grassy surface underneath you.

You figured this would be the end of your duel with Sir Miguel—tasting defeat and him victorious. But despite anticipating this, you couldn’t help feeling disappointed..

After the adrenaline wore off and the competitive red glint in his gaze disappeared, Miguel’s eyes widened, unable to celebrate at the sight of his princess laying on the dirt. “Your Highness!?” he exclaimed, rushing over and hastily sheathing his sword.

“Mierda, I shouldn’t have fought you so harshly. Where the hell did my wits run off to?” The Latino scolded himself, his voice filled with worry, concern, and anger. His amber orbs ran over you as you lay there, your eyes closed. He could practically feel the foreign pain coursing through you.

Miguel’s cold heart tugged even more when you painstakingly avoided him, whimpering softly and hiding behind the disheveled strands of your hair. “P-Princesa, let me assist you. Please,” he pleaded, never before feeling so vulnerable and felt even more like a fool for challenging you.

His gauntlet hands reached out to cup your face, turning your chin to meet him. He grew more frustrated with himself at the look of agony you gave him—eyes squinted in pain, lips tightened as you grasped your side.

“Lo siento mucho, alteza, debería arrojarme a los leones por lo que he hecho.” Miguel mumbled in guilt. His eyes glanced down, noticing your beckoning fingers urging him closer. 

The Latino didn’t hesitate to obey, coming face-to-face with you. He expected a request to be escorted back to the Kingdom for a doctor, anger, or even a slap across the face, which he would accept wholeheartedly. But instead, he was met with something different.

His princess smirked at him.

Before Miguel could detect the deceit in your actions, you pushed him from his crouched position on the ground, sending him crashing to the grass with a heavy thud.

Miguel groaned as the wind was momentarily knocked from his lungs. The dust from the grass filled his senses, making him cough. Hastily, you unsheathed his sword from his unguarded hip, climbing onto his massive form to straddle his waist. A triumphant grin spread across your lips as you aimed the blade at his throat.

“With your ‘training’ and ‘experience,’ I’d think you’d know better than to drop your guard with your opponent. And neither did I yield,” you taunted, looking down at your fallen Kingsguard with a pleased expression. 

“And a mere trip will not cause me to cry to the heavens in agony. Do not take me as weak, Sir Miguel, I can handle more than you think.” You smirked, pressing the blade closer to his unguarded throat. 

“So yield, my Kingsguard, and accept defeat.” You ordered, your chest heaving from exhaustion after the duel.

Your protector breathed heavily, looking up at you with slight annoyance at having his emotions played with like a mere fiddle. “You yielded when you were disarmed in combat and fell, Y/N.” He said through gritted teeth, his hands gripping the grass tightly to calm his simmering anger.

Not in years had the Kingsguard been bested and felt the ground of battle touch his backside, and yet, here he was, lying on the grass with you atop him.

Miguel’s eyes furrowed at the situation. His princess was over him, straddling his legs like a lover. His gaze ran over your flushed and triumphant features, the sweat coating your neck, trickling down to form a teasing line down to your exposed cleavage, evident over the gaping collar of your blue gown.

The Latino hesitated, gulping thickly and averting his gaze. “But if you insist on such theatrics, I’ll admit defeat.” The skilled guard muttered, despite his pride, his princess held a special place in his cold heart.

At your protector’s words, you gasped in surprise. “R-Really!?” you exclaimed, not actually believing you would ever hear the words of surrender from your mighty Kingsguard, let alone hear them said to you.

“Sí, I yield, to you…Y/N.”

Miguel clarified, and a wave of glory engulfed you. You exhaled a sigh of relief, a huge smile spreading across your lips. Your dreams of fighting in combat, of using your skills even for a brief moment, had been achieved today. Not only did you fight, but you also won against your valiant Kingsguard, Sir Miguel O’Hara.

In this moment, you had never felt so accomplished and victorious before, and it was a wondrous feeling.

You met Miguel’s eyes once more, only to find him hastily avoiding your gaze, his amber eyes shifting from yours with every second. Your eyebrows furrowed, noticing the faint shade of pink coloring his olive cheeks—a sight foreign to you.

The longer you looked at him, the more you found yourself lost in the sight of him beneath you.

His disheveled dark brown curls, narrowed brown eyes, broad nose, perfect lips, pinkish cheeks, and bulging Adam's apple—the many features you had fantasized about and even dreamt of—were right before you.

And nothing could compare to the real thing.

Your protector could feel his body burning up like a furnace beneath his layers of armor, his heart racing. His every muscle tensed as you, with your body pressed so closely to his, set off a chain reaction in his core.

The thought of being disarmed in combat was always something Miguel detested. It left him vulnerable and weak to his opponent, no matter how foreign this occurrence was to him. But right now, with his longsword in your hand, pressing it against his throat, it felt like his wildest dreams came true.

It took all of Miguel’s self-control to not pull you closer, to lose himself in those precious eyes of yours thatalways  held beauty and fiery determination. It was only by an invisible thread that he stopped himself from tangling his lips with yours, from tasting the forbidden sweetness of your mouth.

His mind raced as he painstakingly reminded himself of his oath to the crown. 

You were the future of Valoria, and he was but a Kingsguard sworn to protect you—the very duty he had accepted when he was given his cloak.

His hidden desires and thoughts for you needed to cease. 

They must…

“Let us…put our swords away, Your Grace,” Miguel stated, his voice hoarse, deep, and strained, but unable to break his gaze from yours. He waited for you to remove his sword from his neck, his body tense, heart pounding in his chest, with a silent plea to the gods to keep him from making a grave error here—far from the Kingdom and in the seclusion of this very forest.

You gulped, almost missing his suggestion. Nodding slowly, you drew his blade away from his throat, setting it on the grass nearby; but you found yourself incapable of moving from the spot atop him.

Your eyes roamed his face once more, finding the Kingsguard of age eight-and-thirty years old to be exceptionally alluring. You’d always found him attractive, often marveling that this was the man chosen to protect you until the end of your days.

Yet, despite your constant fascination, he seemed to have a new glow to him—a glow that made you meet his conflicted amber orbs, and your own eyes to flood with desire.

“I-I believe…I deserve a reward for my victory, Sir Miguel,” you said without thinking, but found yourself not regretting it.

Miguel’s breath hitched, his mind swirling with carnal thoughts, but his duty kept him grounded. Still, he could not help but give in to the temptation that miraculously appeared to be reciprocated in his princess. 

His gaze roamed over your lips, his mouth dry, throat tight. “Your reward, my lady?” Miguel breathed, the question thick with yearning and anticipation.

Time seemed to stretch as the duel from mere moments ago was forgotten, engulfed by the heat of forbidden desire. The Kingsguard practically melted at the sight of your nod, his hands itching to touch you, to feel the softness of your being through the thin blue fabric of your gown.

His scorching need only heightened at the evident perky tips in your dress, visible through the fabric. Miguel knew he should feel shame for his dishonorable ogling, but found himself feeling anything but.

In the midst of yearning, your mind wandered back to your favorite memory of Miguel—his practice in the training yard, where he had trained in the most improper manner you've ever seen him. You remembered the defined pecs and exceptional eight-pack, and the trail of hair stretching from his trousers to his navel like the most tantalizing of morning suns. Despite his body being covered with battle scars from his days as a knight of valoria, the imperfections only seemed to enhance his appeal.

You recalled your secret desires for his touch, his kisses, and the sensation of his massive frame against yours, enveloping you in his arms and chest. 

A familiar sensation you’d experienced before when thinking of Miguel began to overtake you—spreading from your lower area to your chest, and tingling all the way to the tips of your toes.

You were completely entranced by these sensations and fantasies that felt surreal in your head that you almost missed Miguel’s question: “Is it one that I can grant, Your Grace?”

Goodness, you could practically feel his breath upon your face. His inquiry made you place your hands on his breastplate to steady yourself. “M-My reward?” you stammered, trying to pierce through the fog of your cluttered thoughts.

At his nod, your breath hitched. The images of your desires filled your mind all at once, causing the feelings of bliss to intensify. “Y-Yes… You will be able to grant m-my reward, Sir Miguel,” you affirmed, gazing into his eyes and feeling the world around you fade like a fairytale, leaving only you and your guardian in this secluded space.

Miguel felt a chill run down his spine at your reply. With you straddling his lap, your rear pressed against the apex of his manhood, his desire for you was a crackling fire that seemed impossible to control. 

You were the object of his deepest desires—the forbidden fruit he would never dare to touch, yet the idea was becoming increasingly appealing.

“And what reward do you seek, Y/N?” The older male asked, your name feeling wrong yet so right to say. His oath felt like a boulder crushing him under its weight, while the stirring in his loins begged him to defy it.

You gulped, pushing down your fear as you tried to voice what you truly wanted. “T-the reward I seek m-may seem absurd, l-laughable even,” you started, maintaining contact with him. “But what I seek is y-your touch, y-your kisses, and if you may, y-your body, Sir Miguel.” Your cheeks flushed as you spoke, never breaking eye contact with your Kingsguard, not even when the confessions that escaped you seemed too vast and preposterous to achieve in reality. 

You continued, revealing your innermost feelings as if cornered at knife point, feeling a mix of relief and vulnerability. “Sir Miguel, I’ve…desired you like a desert craves rain, a flower that yearns for sunlight. I’ve…longed for you, unbeknownst to my very being for the past years, wishing to be close to you, whether physically or through the very sword I fight with.” You declared, not backing down despite your embarrassment.

“I-I cannot express how many improper thoughts have clouded my days and how I wonder how our lives could be if circumstances were different. If I was no longer the Princess of Valoria and if you weren’t…you, m-my Kingsguard and a part of the royal guard. “You were certain your face was completely red, changing a shade unknown to man before the very male that you so much adored, but you couldn’t be bothered.

He needed to know and you wanted him to be aware of the feelings you’ve harbored for him for so long.  

You felt horribly embarrassed, and unable to comprehend what expression was upon your Kingsguard’s face, but you proceeded on, nevertheless. “S-So, I, your princess, implore you to bestow upon me this reward, because I do not believe I can contain my wits if I leave here today w-without knowing…” The conclusion escaped you in a whimper that you deemed pathetic. Your heart pounded against your chest so harshly as you averted your eyes, fearfully anticipating his impending response.

Miguel’s eyes narrowed, his heart racing as he processed your requests and confessions. He had never considered himself desirable. Many times through his life the Latino has faced scrutiny for his temper, stoicness, and unwelcoming presence. His horrible characteristics was what caused his first marriage to end almost a decade ago. 

His aura caused individuals to not approach him, his scowl drove people away, and his raging fury kept them from him permanently.

The Kingsguard became accustomed to being alone and disliked, so hearing the sweetest of souls, his princess, consider him favorable made his heart soar in a way it hadn’t in years.

The Latino hesitated, reaching up to cup his princess' tender face and turning you to meet his gaze again. The Kingsguard had done this action many times before, but now, led by a different emotion, it wasn’t the same. “Do not be bashful about your desires, Your Grace,” he said, his voice softening as he watched your beautiful eyes that were practically on the verge of tears widen in surprise.

“Desire is a common feeling—even the strongest of men and beasts aren’t immune to it, so how could a sweet young woman like you suppress such a powerful emotion?” Miguel asked, his thumb brushing gently along your soft cheek.

Every fiber of his being urged him to give in—to grant you the reward you so desperately sought. But he couldn’t…

You weren’t his to have…

Miguel swallowed hard, his amber eyes flicking down to your breasts, which hovered mere inches from his face, concealed by lace that demanded his attention. His tongue flicked over his dry lips as his hands moved from your delicate skin to grip the grass, trying to hold himself back.

“However, I am sworn to protect you, Y/N, even your purity, your…virtue,” the Kingsguard said, shaking his head with vulnerability and pain in his features. “I am not to take what is not mine to take, no matter how much I…share your desire.”

Your stomach twisted in agony at his gut-wrenching admission. “I-I know that, Sir Miguel. B-but please,” you practically begged, never before doing so.

“I…cannot leave here without knowing what it would feel like. How your kisses could bring me bliss, and how safe I’d feel not just in your presence, but in your arms, sharing your warmth as mere commoners in love, our stations and titles forgotten.” You stated, struggling to contain your desperation.

“I…I know what I ask isn’t proper, ladylike, n-nor what the Princess of Valoria should desire, but—” Your words faltered, ending in a sigh of exasperation, wishing the earth would swallow you whole in this moment.

Miguel felt his resolve shatter at your pleas. His hand landed on your hip, caressing your skin through the thin fabric of your dress. “Ateza, you do not need to beg for anything,” he said, brushing a stray tear from your red cheek.

He pondered the rash decision brought upon him, knowing that if he proceeded, things would never be the same. But looking into your eyes, he saw a yearning far deeper than lust. 

His princess was asking for this reward out of necessity, not merely desire.

How could he ignore the wishes of his charge?

Miguel gave you a rare smile, the corners of his lips rising slightly. “Your request may not be ladylike nor proper, but you are here, my sweet princess,” he said, motioning with his chin to the secluded forest clearing around you.

The Kingsguard cupped your face with both hands, his heart palpitating. Miguel pulled you closer to him, his lips being just a hair-breadth from yours. His restraint hanging on by a thread at the heightened tension.  “And here, as you’ve told me, you are not the Princess of Valoria, Valoria’s future, nor the daughter of the King…

You are simply Y/N.”

Your eyes watered at his words, actually feeling seen for the first time. Placing a hand over his on your cheek, you nuzzled his metal palm, a shaky and relieved exhale escaping you.

Miguel’s chest warmed as he stroked your face with his thumb. “Are you certain, princesa?” he asked, his question pulling you back to the surreal reality before you. “I cannot promise I’ll leave you satisfied in the manner that two lovers share, but I can promise to grant your reward, Y/N.” Miguel assured, his brown eyes searching your face for any doubt, fear, or regret, but found none.

With a firm nod, your gaze remained on him, his metal gauntlets cooling your heated skin. “Yes, I am certain, Sir Miguel,” you confessed, never feeling more sure of a decision in your life.

At your permission, Miguel broke the last of his restraint, pressing his lips against yours. He groaned softly, the sweetness of your mouth coating his like a burst of sweet fruit juices. 

His tongue coaxed an opening, slipping past your lips to slide and tangle with yours, deepening the kiss. When the Latino felt your soft pecks in return, his desire grew tenfold.

His deep grunts were like music to your ears as he kissed you passionately, his hands gripping your waist to hold you steady. You whimpered against his mouth, overwhelmed by the intense sensations. His metal palms roamed your body, leaving a trail of tingles in its wake. 

“Y/N,” he whispered hoarsely, pulling away to cradle your cheek, ensuring this was real, but the dazed look in your eyes and your kiss-swollen lips were the only proof he needed.

Wishing to feel the softness of your skin against his rough hands, your Kingsguard began to undo the clasps of his gauntlets, his eyes never breaking contact with yours. When the final metal piece concealing his sense of touch fell away, his freed fingers moved to the enticing lace of your bosom that had been teasing him since he saw you today.

“Do you wish for more, princesa? Do you want me to cease?” Miguel asked, his amber orbs meeting yours, seeking clarity of comfort in his actions. 

But upon receiving a nod, the Latino slowly began to untie the binding that concealed the beauty before him. “You seek my touch—my kisses, princesa?” he asked, noting how you bit your lip and how your gaze was captivated by his hands as they pulled each lace of your dress undone. 

“Y-Yes, Sir Miguel,” you whispered breathlessly. After the many kisses he'd given you thus far, it was seemingly difficult for oxygen to fill your lungs.

“Very well, Y/N.” He replied, removing the final lace. Your morning gown fell open, revealing the sight of his princess' glorious breasts. As the cool air brushed your exposed skin, your nipples instantly hardening, and Miguel felt a deep stirring in his trousers.

At the sight of your chest before him, your Kingsguard felt his breath catch. You blushed heavily, uncertain of his next actions but trusting your protector entirely.

“Goodness, eres tan hermosa—so exquisite, my lady.” The older male's winded compliment only intensified your flushed features. “T-thank you,” you stammered, unsure how to respond to such lewd praise.

Miguel found your flustered state utterly breathtaking. He leaned forward, his lips brushing against the soft skin of your neck, his stubble tickling you. “I’ll try to be gentle,” he whispered, not wishing to mark you and bring scandal upon his princess.

You moaned softly at his kisses along your throat, his assurance of gentleness only making your skin warmer. The sensations he bestowed upon you were utterly new, yet so fascinating and addictive.

Your fingers found their way into his dark brown curls, combing through the strands of hair you’d always wanted to touch. Miguel’s grunts of delight at every scratch of his scalp only encouraged your caresses, unwilling to cease such a marvelous sound.

The thought of this very act being forbidden, despite how good it felt with Miguel, made your veins course with frustration. Your hands moved to cup his face again, wanting to claim his lips once more. You pecked his lips softly, allowing him to take the lead and slip his tongue into your inexperienced mouth, devouring you once more.

'Gosh, why can’t a princess be with whom she’d like to be with?’ You wished to question aloud, wanting to understand such a cruel fate, but each of his kisses stole the words from your mouth, making you fall deeper into his spell.

Miguel’s hands squeezed your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. His mouth began to wander from your lips, moving down to your neck and collarbone before descending further to his princess' untouched and pure body. His lips soon found themselves upon the forbidden tits of Valoria, and Miguel could hardly believe he was granted the chance to please you.

The older man’s tongue flicked out to trace the hardened peak of your right nipple, feeling its unique texture and enjoying the shudders that coursed through you. He sucked gently, painstakingly trying not to leave behind any love bites on your sensitive flesh. While his mouth pleased you, his calloused hand massaged your opposite breast, the feel of your soft flesh in his calloused palms only making him harder than stone itself.

Miguel groaned, switching to your left nipple to swirl his tongue around the bud before sucking it into his mouth. His eyes were locked on your face, ensuring your pleasure as he noted your moans, flushed expressions, and sharp tugs on his hair for any sign of discomfort.

Your eyes followed Sir Miguel’s actions, never before witnessing and experiencing such intimacy. Tingles of delight erupted through you with each of his laps and suctions on your peaked chest. Sounds you’d never made before escaped your throat, leaving you gripping his beautiful curls in bliss.

The Kingsguard’s large hands rubbed and kneaded your breasts, his fingers sinking into the flesh as he drew deeply on your nipple, his cheeks hollowing before releasing it with a loud, wet pop. The gasp escaping you at his suckles was enough to drive him wild.

The scent of your sweet arousal was steadily growing, filling the clearing and intensifying the older male’s desire for his sweet princess. “Is this satisfactory, Y/N?” he asked, his voice hoarse and eyes dark with longing.

With dazed eyes, you met your protector’s gaze from beneath you. Your chest heaved with each breath as you loosened your tight grip on his hair, trying to steady your thoughts. “Y-Yes, Sir Miguel,” you replied, overwhelmed by the sensations he had given you. “You have quite the skilled…mouth.” You complimented, your cheeks burning, unsure how to converse in such a situation.

The sound of your approval and compliment sent a jolt of yearning through Miguel. A rare smile graced his lips as his hands left your breasts and moved lower. “I know ways that are far greater than what you are experiencing now, my lady,” he said, his calloused palms finding purchase on your ankles as he slowly drew up the hem of your blue morning gown.

“Do you trust me, Y/N?” Miguel asked, expecting his actions to be daunting to you, noticing how your eyes widened at him lifting your skirt. “Only if you do, can I further please you.” He continued, hoping you’d entrust him with your body just as you did with your life each and everyday.

Your heart skipped a beat; you had never experienced such intimacy before, however, deep inside, you knew that Sir Miguel would never harm you. The forbidden love you harbored for him gave you the certainty to transverse such unknown lands with your Kingsguard as your guide. 

Releasing a soft exhale, you gave him a timid nod. “Always,” you whispered wholeheartedly. “I’ll always trust you, Sir Miguel.” You repeated, meeting his eyes and allowing him to lead you through the uncharted waters of the taboo world of intimacy. 

Miguel’s eyes briefly widened in surprise at your trust, and his heart swelled. “First, I’ll need you to stand for a moment,” he instructed, his voice so loving that it was unfamiliar even to himself.

Following his words you stood as your Kingsguard joined you. You watched him remove his blue cloak from his backside and lay it on the ground. You were shocked that he would use his cloak in such a way, but his reassuring gaze eased your worries.

“Rest here, my lady. I do not wish for you to lie on the earth while experiencing such pleasures,” Sir Miguel said, offering a hand. You complied, taking his rough palm, and laying on your back upon the soft fabric of his cloak, though the idea of using his sacred cloth this way still troubled you.

Miguel looked down at his sweet princess, noting the usual determined and fearless fire in your eyes had been replaced with a sweet bashfulness that warmed his heart. 

“What do you know of intimacy, Y/N?” Miguel asked, settling on his knees between your thighs, his gaze looking up at you from between your legs. His calloused palms stroked your bare ankles as he lifted your dress to rest on your hips, revealing your lower body and, most importantly, your flawless and untouched pussy.

The older male gulped thickly, trying to contain his desire as he met your reddened cheeks once more, awaiting your response.

You could hardly focus on his inquiry but did your best to answer. “I…know little about intimacy. M-my father, the King, forbade me from knowing any of it.” You reminded him, knowing your Kingsguard was aware of your father’s adamant attempts to keep you pure for your future husband, though you never fully understood what he meant by ‘pure.’

Your protector hummed, keeping his gaze on your eyes rather than the sweet source of his attention between your legs. “Then, allow me to be the first to teach you,” Miguel said softly, leaning in to press gentle kisses on your inner thighs. He smiled against your skin at your surprised gasp, pleased with your reaction.

“As you can see, Y/N, between your legs lies the entrance to your most intimate place,” the older male began, his voice steady. “Some call it the ‘flower,’ others the ‘garden.’ When aroused or…pleased, a small, sensitive bud becomes prominent. That bud is a source of great bliss.” He breathed, aiming to guide his princess gently to avoid frightening you. 

”However, underneath that bud is an opening—an entrance. There, when connection is made can you experience sensations beyond imagination, Y/N.” 

Miguel smiling, pulling away slightly to check your comfort, stroking your thighs with his thumbs. “These are the basics, Y/N, but if you have any questions or feel discomfort, I implore you to speak up.” The Kingsguard said, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of confusion.

Your eyebrows furrowed, the sensations of his lips and stubble against your sensitive skin making it harder to focus, but you were certain of one thing he stated. “T-the most…glorious of sensations?” 

“Sí, very magnificent, indeed.” Miguel chuckled, feeling a buzzing warmth of excitement at the pit of his stomach in anticipation to please his princess for the first time, despite not sharing the most intimate form of connection with you.

Your face bloomed with warmth at the idea of the possibility of experiencing such things, in particular, by Sir Miguel's hands. “And…how might these…feelings be ignited?” You asked when a sound you’d never made before escaped you as an electrifying burst of delight coursed through your being. Your eyes widened, feeling Miguel’s thumb rubbing against your lower area.

“By touch and taste upon your flower, princesa,” your Kingsguard stated as with a gentle touch, he brushed against your outer folds, feeling the warmth radiating from within. His thumb teased the surrounding area, locating the hidden pearl of your bud.

The Latino groaned softly, the sweet citrus scent of your arousal enveloping his senses. “I will be gentle, and we will take it slow, Y/N. But if you feel discomfort at any time, do not hesitate to tell me to cease.” Miguel whispered, continuing his soft strokes along your folds, relishing how you trembled softly.

Your eyes fluttered, not recalling when your hands had found purchase on his blue cloak beneath you, gripping the fabric so tightly you feared it might tear. Frantically, you nodded, struggling to hear through the overwhelming sensations.

His fingers roamed your sensitive folds, following its curves and soft skin, relishing in your gasps, jerks, and choked moans that filled the clearing. Miguel bit his lip, loving the sweet sounds his princess was making by his touch. 

“Tell me, Y/N, how do you feel?” The gruff voice of your royal protector filled your ears once more, practically white noise amidst the overwhelming pleasure.

“S-strange… b-but a… good strange,” you managed to whimper, following the small circles he made on your bud with your eyes shut.

“Muy bien,” Miguel muttered, glancing up to see your flushed cheeks, hidden pupils, and parted lips, eager to give you more. “Perhaps now?”

A sharp moan erupted from your throat when you felt the taboo sensation of your Kingsguard's tongue upon your center. His pink, warm muscle flicked and swirled around your bud in soft, teasing motions, making you twitch uncontrollably.

“S-Sir Miguel—” Your words choked off as you felt his massive hands grip your thighs, holding them open. Your Kingsguard tasted you with the reverence of a starved man improperly licking his bowl clean after supper, devouring you sloppily and humming all the while. 

Miguel groaned, burying his face between your thighs, unwilling to come up for air. He clasped his lips over your hidden pearl, softly suckling and savoring your arousal.

“Mierda, you taste... so delicious, my lady.” The older male murmured, pulling away briefly to check on your comfort.

“Are you well, Y/N? Is this too much?” Miguel asked, his brows furrowed as he noticed your heaving chest, a sign that he might need to slow down.

You breathed heavily, opening your glazed eyes to meet his. “Yes... I-I am quite well, Sir Miguel.” You whispered, cheeks reddening profusely. “But I wish for more. I-I…can take more.” You told him in a bashful tone, but holding the same fire in your eyes when you held your sword.

“I am not as weak and fragile as you believe me to be.” You affirmed, hoping that today’s events had proven you were anything but a delicate sculpture meant to be coddled.

A smile touched the corner of Miguel’s lips, that infamous look of boldness with the blend of flushness upon your features was a sight to the Kingsguard, one he couldn't deny. “Very well, my lady.” He murmured, lowering himself back down to the sweet core of his princess, increasing his excellent suckling and kissing of your intimate area. 

Your head fell back onto the cloak, hips involuntarily rising as his efforts intensified, just as you had requested.

“M-Miguel!” You wailed his name, something you’d never have dared to say without formality; yet, you seemed to be slowly losing your composure with every passing moment.

The Kingsguard’s name on your lips only fueled his determination further. His tongue caressed your untouched entrance, thrusting softly whilst grinding his broad nose against your engorged pearl. “Hmm... say my name again, Cariño.” Miguel mumbled, longing to hear his name without the constraints of station or duty.

Your face reddened at your protector’s request that was heard through the foggy storm of pleasure in your mind. A gasp broke free from your lips, a hand snapping from the cloak to grasp his hair. 

You found yourself pulling him deeper into the depths of your core, allowing your desires to boldly take control. 

“M-Miguel… p-please, do not… cease.” You moaned into the clearing, the natural noises of your hidden sanctuary keen to you, now lost in the background of your ecstasy.

Miguel grumbled, your fingers in his hair becoming a favorable sensation. He buried his tongue deeper into his princess' flower, driven by your plea as if commanded to war. He wasn’t to stop until you were satisfied and his jaw was sore.

“Te lo prometo, nena… que no me detendré. Ni siquiera… cuando mis pulmones fallan y… me ahogo en mis esfuerzos,” the Latino slurred between slurps.

His tongue flattened against your entrance, running along your garden in a slow grind before returning to its gentle penetrations with the pink muscle. Your Kingsguard sought to please you thoroughly. 

Slowly your mind began to cloud and your body trembled like a fawn in the cold. Your whines became more strained as a rising sensation overwhelmed you.

“M-Miguel,” you called out through moans. “s-something is... coming.” You whimpered, unsure of the approaching feeling but aware that it was intensifying with his touch.

At your warning, Miguel moved up on your body, his thumb returning to your bundle of nerves, rapidly stroking it and pressing into the engorged bud to amplify your pleasure.

“Let go, Y/N.” He whispered, his body pressing against yours. His amber eyes, filled with unprecedented affection, remained on you as he guided you to your peak. “Release and fall, querida, knowing I'll be the one to catch you.” Miguel assured, circling your rosebud rapidly and capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

You kissed him with intense fervor, trembling violently as you clutched his chest plate. Tears clouded your vision, and your limbs went limp upon reaching your climax. A loud moan escaped you, only to be swallowed and silenced by your Kingsguard’s kiss.

Afterwards, you felt as though you were a bird soaring through the sky, your body feeling weightless. Soft tremors coursed through you, ensuring that you would remember every moment of bliss with the man you had fallen for.

True to his word, Miguel withdrew his hand from between your thighs, cradling you in his strong arms.

“Was that satisfactory, Y/N?” He asked with a soft chuckle, kissing the stray pleasurable tears that escaped during your release.  

Your Kingsguard shifted to lay on his back, pulling you onto his chest, and using his body like a bedding for his princess. His calloused hand stroked your back, feeling your soft skin through the fabric of your gown. Your protector seeking to calm your ragged breathing and return you to your senses.

Once settled, you looked up at him, blushing with embarrassment at how dazed and lightheaded you felt. “Y-Yes, my Kingsguard. It was satisfying.” You replied with a warm smile, reaching up to stroke his stubbled cheek. “Thank you for granting my reward. I will be forever grateful.”

Miguel’s heart fluttered at your soft touch. He returned your smile and clasped his hand over yours that cupped his face. “No, thank you, princesa, for making me see that I can be wanted—desired, despite all my flaws and callousness.” He said earnestly, pressing a tender and lingering kiss to the inside of your palm before holding you close.

You leaned into him, allowing his large arms to envelop you and keep you safe, just as you had always imagined.

Laying with him, his warmth engulfing you through his armor and the mere content you felt in his arms made the confession that you'd kept from him for so long escape you.

“My... heart burns for you, Sir Miguel.” 

You suddenly whispered, looking up to meet his widened eyes. Before he could respond, you placed two fingers over his lips to silence him. “I... do not desire a reply so as not to worry you about the outcome of such words and feelings. I simply wished for you to know.” You replied, feeling your body warm with adoration for your protector.

Despite not wanting an answer for his shared feelings for his princess, the older male gave a curt nod. “As you wish, Y/N.” He smiled, snuggling you against his chest and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

He held you close, like a lover would their beloved, like a mate would do their partner, his actions speaking volumes to his princess about what his response might have been had you allowed it.

‘My heart burns for you too, mi amor…’

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed the last and final part of 'Fortis et Liber.' Like I said previously, I loved writing this, the characters, the dynamics, especially the forbidden love, lol, was a joy to write. Perhaps this won't be the last you see of Kingsguard Miguel and Princess of Valoria? We'll never know, lol. 🤷🏾‍♀️❤️

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[comfy-writer]

MY Y/N... Tarzan~Izuku | Fourth Part

Warning: xImitation! x20 years old! ManxGirl! Tarzan Izuku! xCrazy apes! xIzuku saves reader! Vine swinging! xFast passed! xFluff! xCute! xScarring! xHandsome! x Izuku Midoriya! x Baboons! x Saving! xreally long right now!

Info: Y/N means your name, L/N means your last name. h/c means your hair color, and s/c means your skin color. Also, f/c means your favorite color and D/N means dad's name.

A/N: I thought of this cute idea after I watched Tarzan! I thought it would be cool if one of the Mha boys were Tarzan or something like him. So of course, I had to go with Izuku for this one, he is my favorite. Plus, no one has been requesting so I just chose him.

Also: I had to split up many of the stories! So, they are all connected, but I had to give parts of them.

First Part: https://www.tumblr.com/comfy-writer/762316046759804928/my-yn-tarzan-izuku-first-part?source=share

Second Part: https://www.tumblr.com/comfy-writer/762316069345132544/my-yn-tarzan-izuku?source=share

Third Part: https://www.tumblr.com/comfy-writer/762316079170273280/my-yn-tarzan-izuku-third-part?source=share

Fourth Part: https://www.tumblr.com/comfy-writer/762316092961161216/my-yn-tarzan-izuku-part-four?source=share

~~~~~~

Locks of your h/c hair fall off your shoulders and drip down your ragged, messy, yellow dress. The greenet walks on his knuckles, closer to you and he repeats.

"You stay. I'm warning you." Your finger points to the tree trunk telling him to stay. You command him like a dog as you try to huddle closer to the tree trunk. His face gets closer to yours, and he "walks" closer to you. "My father won't take kindly to you…" You tell him, his face is at least only 2 inches away from yours. "No. That… No, that's close enough." You inform the greenet man. His eyes scan yours, his eyes soften furthermore, and he smiles at you gently.

His hand touches the side of your face, and he cups the side. Your e/c eyes drift to the side of your face and you narrow at him. You whip your head to look at him, and on instinct, your gloved hand goes to smack his face. His calloused, scarred hand grabs your wrist gently. He doesn't hurt you and doesn't do it firmly either. But, you could tell that he was strong. Just the gentleness alone could make someone afraid of this gentle, wild man-ape thing.

"How dare you? What…?" You murmur. You look at his hand on your wrist and you get scared again. The greenet inspects your hand with his emerald eyes. His other hand gently takes your glove off and he sets it down to the side. Your hand is in front of him now, he brings his bigger ones to your smaller, delicate ones. The ape-man touches his hand with yours, and he compares them. He blinks a few times and looks at you waiting for your reaction.

Your eyes look into his, and he looks into yours. His body moves instinctively closer to you. "Oh Um…" You gasp not knowing what to do now. He brings his ear close to your chest, and he puts his ear against your chest. Your soft heartbeat runs through his ears. The soft pulse of it bumped against his ear.

You seemed…. almost fragile in a sort of way to him. You were fragile to him. His eyes widen in shock and happiness, and he quickly removes his head from your chest. The greenet looks up at you calmly and gently smiles. His hand grabs the sides of your face gently and he squats to you. He brings your ear to his chest.

"Oh, dear." You nervously say to yourself. Your ear hears his heart, and it is fast-paced. His heart seemed kind of strong with how fast it went. Your was soft and slow, his was fast and a lot louder than yours. "Oh dear, oh, dear. Oh, dear." You repeat over and over again. The man looks down at you and gives you a small, soft smile. That smile seemed to make you more calm. You gently push him away and he takes a step back still squatting. "Oh, thank you. That's a lovely heartbeat. It's very nice." You give him a nervous smile.

He seems to be in wonder, looking at you and he speaks to you, "It's very nice." You play with your hair, trying to put it up into the bun you had earlier today as you then continue, "Oh, thank you. I can't do a thing with it in this humidity though. It's…" You think he is talking about your hair, you jolt in thought and you look at him bewildered.

"You do speak!" You accuse him, your hands fall to your sides and your hair falls once again. "All this time I thought you were a big, wild, quiet, silent person thing." You talk non-stop. You sit on your legs as your feet are behind your bottom supporting you up.

"Mmmm." You smile at him with a lopsided one. "Why didn't you tell me? I must say I'm rather curious as to who you are. I'd love…" You ramble as you quiet yourself, to see a hand press against your lips. You sit back and stay quiet waiting for this man-gorilla thing to speak The man brings his knuckles to his chest as if pointing to himself. He grunts before letting out a sound, "Izuku." His green hair flops to his shoulders when Izuku bends slightly down.

You question him and you narrow your eyes. Your mouth is wide open in shock and discovery at this man before you. He huddles closer to you and says once more, "Izuku." He smiles at you friendly. You then repeat him, "Izuku?" You ask confused if you were saying it correctly. The man grunts happily and he nods his head quickly, still smiling at you. You then mumble, "Oh I see." The man thinks and then processes before copying your antics, "Oh I see." He says in a girly type way.

He points to himself with his knuckles again and says, "Izuku." He then puts his hands on your shoulders, "Oh, I see." You think about it and shake your head quickly. "No, no, no. No." You clear your own throat looking into his forest eyes. "I'm Y/N." You smile at him.

The greenet copies you and then repeats, "No, no no. No. I'm Y/N." he gives you a hopeful look hoping he's saying it correctly. You shake your head making him frown in response. "Y/N. Izuku." You point to yourself and then him, not saying anything else so he knows that that is your only name. "Y/N," you tell him and you point to yourself again. He listens to you and waits for you to be finished. "Y/N…" He repeats he puts his forefinger and his thumb underneath your chin, so you are looking at him. "Y/N…. my Y/N?" He asks as he nods his head and says it once more.

"My Y/N," He smiles widely at this, your e/c eyes widen quickly and a blush spills over your cheeks. You nod your head knowing he has no idea what he meant by that.

"My Y/N is very…. beautiful." He waits to try and sound out his words. Your eyes go round and in no time you try to back away from Izuku, but his hand gently grabs your back. He shakes his head and he closes the gap between the both of your lips. You then think to yourself, 'How does he know how to kiss?!' You kiss him back and your hands gently drift to play with his long, wavy, green hair.

[physalian]

On Writing a Compelling Fetch Quest, as told by TFP

Save for a single recap episode, season two of Transformers Prime is one long high-octane fetch quest, gunning for weapons and tools and eventually the keys to restoring Cybertron.

See this post where I’ve already gushed about this show but I just rewatched season 2 and it does absolutely everything right when so much of the tension could just come from the macguffin of the week.

Full Spoilers Ahead.

—

Season 2 begins with an amnesiac Optimus convinced he’s still best buds with “Megatronus” and that he’s still Orion Pax, factory reset to before he became a Prime with no knowledge of the war or Autobots or Decepticons. In this version of the lore, he was an archivist, the skills of which come into great use as he can decode ancient encryptions that Megatron’s had sitting locked in a vault and unable to crack for, seemingly, eons—unknowingly helping the enemy murder all his friends.

The information contained in this “Iacon Database” prompts the fetch quest that takes up the entire season. After the three part season debut (6 part if you count the 3 part season 1 finale as one long movie) where Team Prime ventures on their own fetch quest to restore Optimus’s memories, the board is nearly set. But first, a couple other episodes catching up with C-tier villains and bringing in some shiny new characters.

In these episodes, Megatron’s second-in-command, Starscream, who’s been rogue for quite some time, loses his ability to transform after trying to screw over Bumblebee. A “loose cannon” for Team Prime returns not quite as a main character, but more present than his lone episode in season 1, and Starscream’s replacement, Dreadwing, makes his debut. And, the other rogue character, Airachnid, is temporarily disposed of.

The board is now set: Autobots, Decepticons, and Starscream.

We begin at episode 11, where Megatron decides it’s a grand idea to infect his ship with zombie fuel to speed up some repairs, and the ship gains a life of its own, decoding the rest of the Iacon Database that Optimus left sitting behind, a job left to a different ‘Con, Soundwave, who’s no Optimus but doing his best. In that episode, the humans of Team Prime sneak aboard the wayward ship, steal the only four coordinates of the Fetch Quest that are available, and get the heck out of dodge.

Episodes 12-15: Four whole episodes occurring simultaneously, everyone available on both teams, every major player, Starscream included, all racing to these four locations to pick up either mystery weapons or tools of varying mass destruction. Each episode is intercut with dialogue and details from the other units, all coming to a head with the near-death of the Team Prime “Tank,” Bulkhead.

What’s in these four episodes is just a taste of the tension that the rest of the season will take on, kind of like a tournament arc pitting unlikely foes against each other over the MacGuffin of the day. My favorite is Wheeljack (robot cowboy samurai) and Ratchet (grumpy medic) vs Soundwave (aforementioned decrypter replacement who does not speak). The episode is visually gorgeous with a showdown on a cliff at sunset with the most beautiful golden hour for the fight (pictured above).

Every MacGuffin brings a new twist to the fight of their episode, of the four, 1 goes to the Bots, 1 goes to the Cons, 1 goes to Starscream, and 1 gets destroyed.

In the Wheeljack episode, Ratchet comes up with an idea to sneak a virus into Soundwave so they can steal the rest of the Iacon Database from the Cons, which proves a success.

Enter episodes 16-19, where we take a break from the pacing of the fetch quest to bring in another new character, Smokescreen, let Bulkhead heal up, let Wheeljack almost get murdered horrifically by giant bot beetles, and teach a little girl about how revenge does not bring peace. Oh and do away with the C-tier villains, they (almost) all die.

Episodes 20-23 are the last five coordinates for the quest: A fancy new sword to sell toys for Optimus in an absolutely badass episode where he cuts a whole mountain in half, and the 4 literal keys to restoring Cybertron.

The new tension comes from both making sure that Team Prime gets all four keys, and making sure that Megatron does not find out how important they are.

Team Prime gets 1, Megatron gets 1, Team Prime gets another, and then Starscream comes in out of nowhere to steal the 4th, and then sneaks into the base of Team Prime to steal the other 3.

I cannot remember the exact quote but after a yell of absolute anguish and frustration, Optimus collects himself enough to say: “The fate of our world now lies with Starscream, whatever his intention.”

Because, Starscream can’t do shit alone. He just has a very powerful bargaining tool to either buy back the Bots favor, or buy back his place with the Decepticons. Underscoring the importance of who has the keys is this: Whichever side restores Cybertron will have effectively won the war, able to then brand the other side officially as traitors, for a whole new reign of absolute authority. The stakes could not be higher.

Episode 24: The second and far superior flashback episode taking a look exclusively at Starscream’s role throughout the series and all his fabulous shenanigans, as Megatron puts him on trial to decide whether he should just kill his traitorous little SIC.

While these flashbacks are being displayed literally on a screen like they’re connected via HDMI cable, Dreadwing (Starscream’s interim replacement) finds out that not only did Starscream get his twin killed way back in season 1, but then raised his corpse and left the zombie wandering around the fifth dimension, and Megatron knew about it, and lied. (Dreadwing is a fantastic lawful evil character, this post is just ridiculously long already without giving everybody bios)

The episode ends with Dreadwing betraying his whole side to give Team Prime intel, and a magical MacGuffin hammer (that they initially lost in the earlier stages of the Fetch Quest) to level out the playing field, he then goes back to his team and monologues a bit too long before trying to kill Starscream himself (as Megatron still won’t) and gets murdered for his efforts, when he was absolutely right.

At this point, Starscream is back with the Decepticons, they have all they keys (but not yet the knowledge of how they work or where they go to), and they believe that they have a free shot to fly back to Cybertron as the Autobots don’t have any way to get there themselves.

Enter the finale: Episodes 25 and 26. We’re almost there.

The magic MacGuffin hammer Dreadwing gave the Bots can fix or craft almost anything (with limited uses) and they use it to make their wormhole portal into a much beefier version—a space bridge—to portal themselves to Cybertron with every single weapon they’ve collected over the course of the Fetch Quest in their arsenal.

This is a mission they’ll either win, or die trying, they have to steal back the keys and reach the lock before Megatron does, and Megatron just figured out where the lock is.

The Bots manage to do it all, get the keys, take out hoards of faceless minions in their way, they’re a the lock, all they have to do is turn it on.

When out of seemingly nowhere, Megatron executes his backup plan: The whole season, he’s had Soundwave quietly scoping out the Bots’ secret base, and the homes of their human allies. Due to a grave mistake on Ratchet’s part, those humans are not protected at the worst time possible, and they get kidnapped.

Megatron delivers an ultimatum: Cybertron, or three human children?

Rather controversially, Optimus chooses the children, but destroys the lock so Cybertron can’t be revived by either side.

Episode 26 then ends with the reveal that Megatron discovered the location of their base, and as they all scramble to different corners of the earth, Megatron nukes it, and Optimus with it.

—

What I think TFP does really well with the MacGuffins is that, by and large, they themselves are never the point of their episodes. The writers knew audiences wouldn’t be sated with just the objects themselves carrying the story, which is what every fetch quest story should be:

The MacGuffin itself does not mean shit to the audience, 9 times out of 10. It could be swapped out for something else and largely not impact its purpose in the story. What matters is what it means to everyone who wants it, and what they’re willing to do to get it.

In TFP's case, these MacGuffins cannot be replaced. Several show up more than once to give unique advantages to different fights or become incredibly useful 11th hour tools—the setup and payoff with them is fantastic.

Yes, some of these “relics” are dangerous weapons, but in the background of the whole season there is so much subtext. Optimus���s guilt and Megatron’s manipulations over what he did while he had no memory. Various rivalries between sides coming to a head. The Starscream wild card that continued to take everyone by surprise again and again. Optimus’s increasing impatience to finally end this war and set aside the rivalry to try and kill Megatron for real this time, several times.

Regardless of who had what item, the balance of power between both sides was shifting constantly. The Bots would get a slight advantage, and the Cons would match it immediately. The Cons would win a battle, but then infighting would cost them the next one. Optimus’s fancy sword was shattered the very next episode when Megatron made his own using a stolen hand of a dead Prime to power the magic creation hammer—a nice bit of commentary on mutually assured destruction. Megatron never would have gone that far if Optimus didn’t get his own uber powerful weapon first.

Nor was every battle over the MacGuffin-of-the-day the same. Different players, different environments, different rules at play depending on the power of the MacGuffin itself, or the ulterior motives of either side.

And there were consequences, too, as this series is pretty mature. Dreadwing dies pretty graphically, a different dead Bot gets turned into a ghoul and his (totally canon) husband loses his shit over seeing a filthy human wearing his metal skin around.

If you won’t watch this show because you think the franchise is lame, I can’t change your mind, but if ever there was an entry into the franchise that proved how good it could be—and there is a time and a place for the camp of G1—TFP would be it.

[aaron-hotch]

DEVIL'S NIGHT. | A.H

CHARACTER : Lucifer!Aaron Hotchner.

RATING : NONE. RELIGIOUS-BLAPSHEMY-ISH(?)

A/N : English isn't my first language, so it is possible that there is some grammatical errors along the way. divider is from @cafekitsune, icon is from @catsadams No use of Y/N.

dedicated to @hoe4hotchner. 🥰

summary : Halloween is the Devil's favorite night.

The orange pumpkins with their candles lighting the street seemed to have multiplied in a few days, people were coming out of the cafes with pumpkin spice coffees and long scarves. The cold had set in early this year but that wasn't going to stop children from appearing in the streets with their often pumpkin-shaped candy buckets, begging for sweets at the risk of being cursed.

Aaron Hotchner glanced at the pumpkins at the entrances of the houses, he sighed as he walked up to his house, he closed the door behind him before taking off his jacket. He had never understood the fascination with Halloween, maybe because he found it stupid and he still didn't understand what it had to do with sweets.

He sat down at the table and poured himself a coffee, he looked out the window to watch the children in disguise, he closed his eyes when he heard the doorbell. Aaron approached the door after putting down his cup of coffee, he opened it and then gave the children a pleasant smile before his face suddenly transformed, two glowing red irises appearing in place of his chocolate eyes, the two children who couldn't have been more than ten years old, started running screaming.

Aaron closed the door with a smirk on the edges of his lips.

Maybe one of the reasons why he didn't like Halloween or Christmas was because he knew God too well, he had seen him build the Earth, he had seen him create Adam and Eve, he had been the one who had turned into a snake to get into the Garden of Eden.

He remembered the smell of human beings, Adam had taken almost two long weeks to understand that you could wash yourself with water. Lucifer, who had later become Aaron Hotchner upon arriving on Earth, had moaned in despair as he looked at the first man who touched the water as if it was going to kill him. And God had decided to devote himself body and soul to his new creations, Michael had simply shrugged his shoulders and replied that it was normal for their Father to take care of human beings.

Lucifer had blinked and decided that the best thing to do would be to prove to his Father that human beings, his little protégés, were not as perfect as he liked to think. And that his idea was simply absurd. Why did he need human beings when he had his childrens?

Several billion years later, Lucifer, who had created his identity of Aaron Hotchner to go unnoticed, still wondered why his father had created such stupid beings. Sometimes he dreamed of just making them explode like common balloons but that might not be very subtle when you're trying to go unnoticed.

After all, he was supposed to be a prosecutor! Aaron Hotchner was a prosecutor, Lucifer was a superior being, he had to constantly juggle his two identities, it wasn't easy when he was faced with situations where his first reaction was to simply reduce the person in front of him to dust.

Aaron was sitting in his kitchen, he was leaning against his wall holding his second coffee of the evening, he watched the fire in the fireplace and stood up slightly to put down his cup of coffee. Looking out the window, he noticed that the children had disappeared from the now deserted streets. It was now almost two in the morning, the children were sent to their beds. He cracked his neck before an evil smile appeared on his face, it was time to go terrorize the children in their nightmares. After all, it wasn't really that hard to get into the minds of young humans, was it? They were so weak, so stupid. It was his favorite night. A night where he could let his mask fall.

[nitrateglow]

Spooky Season 2024: 12-22

Phantom of the Mall: Eric's Revenge (dir. Richard Friedman, 1989)

The opening of the new mall is hampered by one thing: a Phantom hiding in the air vents, and committing robbery and murder. It turns out this Phantom is really a teenager named Eric (Derek Rydall) disfigured in a fire set by the mall's developers to clear out any remaining houses impeding their dreams of commercial development. Now, Eric plans on having his revenge and watching over his girlfriend Melody (Kari Whitman), now an employee of the mall. But what will he make of her burgeoning romance with a journalist?

Talk about pure '80s cheese. This film feels like it was made to capitalize on the slasher cycle and the popularity of the Andrew Lloyd Weber Phantom of the Opera megamusical. It's not a particularly good movie, but it is dumb fun. I love how this Phantom makes free use of the goods available in the stores and how he spams his spin kick attack like he's in a video game.

Also, Pauly Shore is in this. He has a great scene talking about subliminal messaging in department stores, but is otherwise the usual Pauly Shore.

Hangover Square (dir. John Brahm, 1945)

Musician George Harvey Bone (Laird Cregar) is disturbed by long sessions in which he blacks out. He fears he may be committing murder, but is reassured by the police when he goes to them that isn't likely. Detective Dr. Allen Middleton (George Saunders) advises the overworked George take a break from composing. George does so by going to a pub where he meets the lovely Netta Longdon (Linda Darnell), a music hall entertainer who dreams of fame. George and Netta enter into a toxic relationship in which she uses him to advance her career while seeing other men on the side. When George discovers her treachery, his blackouts return-- this time in a far more violent form.

I'm starting to become fascinated by John Brahm, a director best remembered for his moody, macabre dramas in the 1940s. Hangover Square was his second and final collaboration with the talented but doomed Laird Cregar, who died two months before the film was released. It's as much a noir as a horror picture, drenched in that chiaroscuro lighting and urban dread so common to the classic cycle.

Cregar is astonishing in the lead role. Though handsome, he was a bigger man, so Hollywood refused to allow him to transition into leading man parts. He is marvelous here, passionate and sensitive, yet also sinister once his jealous rage takes over. I've seen Cregar in multiple films and he was truly fantastic, able to be comic as well as dramatic. Hollywood didn't deserve him.

Lastly, Linda Darnell's character sings this really catchy song when Cregar first sees her. I saw this film weeks ago but it is STILL STUCK IN MY HEAD.

The Sealed Room (dir. DW Griffith, 1909)

In some nondescript time period (everyone's dressed like it's either the early 18th century or the middle ages), a king (Arthur V. Johnson) learns his mistress (Marion Leonard) is smooching with a musician (Henry B. Walthall). Jealous to the point of rage, he has the couple sealed in a small room where they suffocate to death.

The Sealed Room is a gem from the nickelodeon era, though I admit my liking for it comes from how extra all the performances are, even by the standards of the early silent period.

It also has one of my favorite instances of what I like to call "silent film logic"-- that is, scenes featuring action that would be very loud in real life, but in a silent film, you may not think about it as much. Here, the king has the lovers walled up alive in a small room, where they lounge unaware. And yet, there's workers slapping up a brick wall not ten feet away from them! It's very amusing.

Frankenhooker (dir. Frank Henenlotter, 1990)

When his girlfriend Elizabeth (Patty Mullen) gets hacked to death by an automatic lawnmower he built, medical student Jeffrey (James Lorinz) decides to resurrect her by killing sex workers for their shapely body parts then sewing Elizabeth's severed head on top. He does this by having his victims smoke explosive crack.

No, I'm not making this up.

I first heard about Frankenhooker from James Rolfe of Angry Video Game Nerd fame. It sounded so insane that I knew I had to watch it. It's-- well, it's definitely a bizarre movie with lots of crude humor and pitch black jokes.

Would you believe me if I said it was kind of an unsung feminist work? I definitely did not expect THAT angle coming in, but that messaging is definitely there. Jeffrey is a villain-protagonist through and through, even before he starts committing murder. We learn he was already demanding Elizabeth modify her appearance to suit his tastes before she got killed. He views women as more a collection of body parts than proper people. However, his misogyny does catch up with him in the end and his fate at the resurrected Elizabeth's hands is the very definition of irony. I don't want to spoil it.

It's definitely not for everyone, but if you have a sick sense of humor and some friends that share that humor, you'll have a good time.

Friday the 13th: Part 2 (dir. Steve Miner, 1981)

A summer camp close to the infamous Camp Crystal Lake is about to open. Little do the young, horny counselors know, Jason (Warrington Gillette and Steve Daskewicz)-- the boy that allegedly drowned long ago-- is still alive and he's mad his mama got decapitated in the previous film. Lots of people die.

I confess I have a hard time getting into these Friday the 13th films. I've read it took a few entries for the series to find its footing as gloriously dumb schlock, but the first one and this sequel were mostly boring for me. About all I liked was the last twenty minutes, when the heroine's background in child psychology comes into play. Otherwise, this gets a big meh from me. Not horrible, but nothing I can imagine I'll ever rewatch.

Corridor of Mirrors (dir. Terence Young, 1948)

A party girl (Edana Romney) becomes involved with a Renaissance era-obessed artist (Eric Portman). Their fetishistic relationship leads to heartbreak and murder.

Already discussed this one is great detail at my Wordpress blog. It's a great romantic thriller in the vein of Vertigo and Rebecca.

The Old Dark House (dir. James Whale, 1932)

During a thunderstorm, a group of unwary British travelers are marooned at the crumbling mansion of the Femm family, a collection of eccentrics who may be insane. Everything goes wrong: the hulking butler gets drunk and preys on the women visitors, the area may flood, the lights go out, and there may be a homicidal maniac imprisoned in one of the rooms upstairs. Will anyone survive the night?

I have raved about this film for a long time now. It's truly a favorite of mine in general, not just for the Halloween season. Both witty and chilling, it's an atmospheric masterpiece. The damp and mold are palpable.

What fascinates me most is the Femm family itself and the gaps in their backstory. This is one movie where I feel like there's a Tolstoyan novel's worth of drama with the Femms. It's hinted that the 102-year-old patriarch of the house (played in drag by actress Elspeth Dudgeon) used to host orgies there. The death of the seductive sister Rebecca at the age of 21 may or may not have been due to inter-family foul play. Morgan the butler has a close, even weirdly tender relationship with the homicidally insane brother Saul, suggesting a myriad of possible connections between them. It's very interesting-- I like that the movie doesn't fill in all the blanks.

A Game of Death (dir. Robert Wise, 1945)

Don Rainsford (John Loder), big game hunter extraordinaire, finds himself shipwrecked on a mysterious island. The owner is Erich Kriegler (Edgar Barrier), an urbane German who also enjoys hunting, though with a slight difference-- he likes hunting humans. Teaming up with other shipwreck survivors Ellen (Audrey Long) and Robert (Russell Wade), Don tries finding a way to escape before they become Kriegler's next wall trophies.

This movie is a pallid, watered down, shot-for-shot remake of The Most Dangerous Game, one of the crown jewels of 1930s horror, so of course, I am not fond of it. And yet, I rewatch it every few years, so it must have something going for it. So instead of tearing into it as I normally do, I'll list a few things I think are actually good about it:

I like that the main character initially tries tricking Kriegler into thinking he will hunt people with him. Very pro-active.

I think Kriegler is a good villain. Not as memorably deranged and campy as Leslie Banks' Zaroff in the original film, but chilling in a more low-key way. His "the strong deserve to prey upon the weak" philosophy fits in nicely with Nazi ideologies-- no doubt what this wartime horror flick intended.

Um... I think Audrey Long is really pretty. I like her flow-y outfits.

... Yeah, that's it.

The Most Dangerous Game (dir. Ernest B. Schoedsack and Irving Pichel, 1932)

All-American big game hunter Bob Rainsford (Joel McCrea) is shipwrecked on the unlisted island of Count Zaroff (Leslie Banks), a Russian aristocrat and master sportsman who claims he now hunts "the most dangerous game" of all. Being a himbo, it takes Bob a while before he realizes that game is human beings. Unwilling to hunt alongside Zaroff when given the offer, Rainsford and fellow prisoner Eve Trowbridge (Fay Wray) wage a game with Zaroff: let loose into the island's thick jungle, if they survive the night without Zaroff or the terrain killing them, they'll go free. If not, Rainsford dies and Eve will become a rather different kind of quarry for the evil count.

Now, here's my favorite "hunter hunts people" movie! While "The Most Dangerous Game" has been adapted and ripped off multiple times for a century, the original is still hard to beat. The castle set drips with gothic grandeur. The jungle soundstage is thick and suffocating, and once the chase intensifies, it becomes like something out of a nightmare.

I actually think the climactic hunt is among the greatest sequences in all cinema. The editing is so dynamic and the images are brilliant. And when you consider this is still an early talkie, when films were still trying to rediscover their footing after silent cinema came to an end, it becomes even more remarkable.

Going on Letterboxd, I was shocked to find a lot of people on there have mixed to negative opinions about this movie, largely because they think it's too over the top and that it's messaging is too on the nose.

I mean-- yes, these things are true, but I don't see them as flaws. It probably helps that I love camp and melodrama, and am not ashamed to admit it. And regardless of the fervent camp on display, I still think the trophy room scene is creepy and the chase is super intense. I have probably seen this movie close to a hundred times and yet, the chase still has me shouting at the TV, willing the characters to run faster. That's damn fine filmmaking.

The Haunting (dir. Robert Wise, 1963)

A researcher of the paranormal brings a motley crew of ordinary people into the allegedly haunted Hill House. Both potential ghosts and the neuroses of the visitors bring on sinister events and ultimately tragedy.

I love this movie more and more. I already wrote a bit about my reaction this time around, though since then, I started rereading the source novel, Shirley Jackson's The Haunting of Hill House. Obviously, the book delves more deeply into Eleanor's psyche, but the film does a fantastic job of this as well. Given film is a visual medium, it can be a challenge to depict a character's interior state without delving into expressionism and this film does that well.

The Phantom of the Opera (dir. Terence Fisher, 1962)

Aspiring songstress Christine Charles (Heather Sears) and producer Harry Hunter (Edward de Souza) are drawn into a mystery at the London Opera House. A phantom is sabotaging any attempt to produce Joan of Arc: A Tragedy, a show allegedly written by the cold, snobby, rapey Lord Ambrose (Michael Gough). After some investigating, it turns out the Phantom (Herbert Lom) was once the meek-mannered Professor Petrie, whose music was stolen by Ambrose. Now, he wants only to see his opera done justice and only Christine's voice can make that happen.

I am very fond of this version of The Phantom of the Opera even though I think it has a myriad of dramatic flaws. Let's get the flaws out the way first. I think the film is a bit repetitive in retelling us Petrie's story over and over, at first through onscreen description and then through filmed depiction. I also think the ending is anti-climactic, like the writers didn't want to go the usual route of making the Phantom a homicidal maniac but they weren't sure how to make a properly dramatic finish without that characterization.

That out the way, this is a unique, even refreshing retelling in many ways. The Phantom/Christine relationship is no longer one of unrequited love-- in fact, Petrie seems wholly uninterested in romance or sex at all. He views Christine and himself as victims of the truly despicable Lord Ambrose: Petrie had his music stolen and Christine was sexually harrassed. Therefore, it is up to the two of them to wrest the opera back from Amrbose's influence and make it the production Petrie wanted. Petrie is one hard taskmaster. He is relentless in training Christine and at one point throws filthy sewer-water in her face when she faints.

But the Phantom is hardly an out and out villain here. He doesn't even kill people-- he has a convenient hunchbacked assistant to do that. No, the real baddie is Ambrose, among the nastiest villains in the Hammer canon. Ambrose never even kills anyone, yet he makes the blood boil with his wanton cruelty. Michael Gough (who I always remember best as Alfred in the Tim Burton Batman movies, as well as Batman Forever and Batman and Robin) is so good at being bad.

This version of POTO also has my favorite version of the Phantom's compositions. Usually, he writes a "burning" piece called Don Juan Triumphant, fitting his romantic obsession with Christine. Here, Petrie writes an opera about Joan of Arc, a virginal saint persecuted by powerful men-- a fitting subject for Petrie given his own persecution by an aristocrat. Joan's aria "I Hear Your Voice" is gorgeous and always brings me to tears, it's that beautiful.

Not a perfect film, but still a very good one.

[tayaalovsx]

𐙚!Dating Headcanon

warnings!: nothing in particular!

genre!: fluff/suggestive themes!

a/n!: my katsuki ones were the first ever headcanons I dropped, next up is shinsou my other half<3

ᝰ.ᐟ| possessive bf, not the most jealous type, but would get irritated if someone just flirts with his gf

ᝰ.ᐟ| not the biggest flirt, but could make his partner flustrated, he's a layed back chill kind of dude, so I don't think he would actually throw effort in to making his gf be a flushed potato

ᝰ.ᐟ| he's the biggest cat lover ever, cat Cafe dates are something he would suggest often.

ᝰ.ᐟ| not picky about his partner, as much as I would enjoy the sunshine x grumpy dynamic duo, the more you're like him the more he would like you.

ᝰ.ᐟ| favorite color is purple, or black. which leads to a lot of plushies he may give or any present in general to be wrapped in purple bow or somekind of wrapping paper

ᝰ.ᐟ| his hair is not natural, and also long so if his partner suggest to braid it he wouldn't mind. he hates changes but would make a small exepction for his loved one

ᝰ.ᐟ| shows his love through actions not words. he's bad with words and saying out his feelings, maybe he would write a few letters but he's a bit uncomfortable with someone finding it so he would settle for acts of service or just buying gifts

ᝰ.ᐟ| has a cat photo frame where a picture of him and his partner is.

ᝰ.ᐟ| I feel like he doesn't strike for kids even when he's older, he could settle for a cat, or a few but kids just gets too complicated

ᝰ.ᐟ| he listens to all genre's of music but I'm certain he would listen to Lana Del Rey or w2e.

ᝰ.ᐟ| loves matching things with his gf, especially with hello kitty and spider man. he would like to have one of these black hello kitty sweatpants, but if needed he would give them away to his gf

ᝰ.ᐟ| all his sweaters are just sprayed in his perfume in case his gf wants to borrow some of them. he's not unfamiliar with all of the couple things so that's why he tries to make it at best for his partner

ᝰ.ᐟ| anniversary dates are on his cat calendar, it is a very special one when only important dates are set.

ᝰ.ᐟ| he says his gf is his second priority, but in reality she is his first. if she needs him for something, he's there. even for something minor he's there

ᝰ.ᐟ| he remembers every single details about his gf. everything that he finds significant is remembered and written down in a special notebook, hidden underneath his mattress

ᝰ.ᐟ| insomniac but if he's with him gf cuddling, he would fall asleep. for unknown reasons he falls asleep easier around her.

!lover girl xoxoೀ

[writingoddess1125]

Small Touches

Bucky Barns x GN Reader

Fluffy 💕

Masterlist <<

Kofi <<

SFW

• Bucky’s not used to touch.

• Not after all the years of isolation, manipulation, and pain that have made him recoil at even the slightest brush against his skin.

• Despite therapy the weight of the Winter Soldier haunts him, making it hard to believe he deserves something as simple as a gentle hand.

• But when you come into his life, it’s like the walls he’s built around himself slowly begin to crack, piece by piece.

• Despite his best efforts

- You having been a Family friend of Sam, You of course were invited to a family outing. Sam also dragging Bucky with him to get him more socialized.

• The first time it happens, it’s an accident.

"(Y/N)! My favorite annoyance!" Sam called out once he saw you, of course a laugh bubbling from your chest as you walk over and give him a side hug to not spill your drink.

"Sam! How of the US chicken doing?" You joke with a wide smile as he rolls his eyes.

"Fine Fine- Smart Ass. Oh and (Y/N), this is Bucky Barnes, he is- someone who works with me" He introduced as he gestured to his acquaintance who gave a awkward smile. You still a bit buzzed from your drink and your natural social reaction also give a Side hug to the stronger with a cheerful greeting- Unaware you were hugging the side of his metal arm.

It leaves Bucky confused, wondering why your touch didn’t feel like the usual threat in the back of his head. A bit frazzled by it as Sam tries to explain away that you were a hugger-

He stiffens instantly, his mind racing, but you don’t even seem to notice.Instead of pulling away quickly or acting awkward, you continue talking, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"It's wonderful to have you here! Here have a beer and food should be done soon- Speaking of I think I left the drinks i brought in the car" You say cheerfully as you gesture to the grill near by. Setting down your drink on a near by seat as you excuse yourself to run the errand.

Interesting..

His breath catches, but you quickly pull away, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. He doesn’t say anything, but inside, something stirs. It’s not fear—it’s curiosity. He hasn’t flinched. That’s… progress, right?

• It continues like that for a while—small, fleeting touches that don’t last long enough to feel overwhelming but linger just enough to leave an impression.

• A pat on the back when he does something good.

• Your hand briefly brushing his as you hand him something.

• They’re all innocent touches, but each one feels like another brick coming down from the fortress around his heart.

• Eventually, Bucky finds himself missing those moments.

• He won’t admit it—not at first—but something about your touch is grounding.

• It’s warm, and real, and for the first time in a long time, it doesn’t come with pain or fear.

• He starts to lean into it, allowing your hand to stay a little longer when it rests on his arm.

• He doesn't flinch when your fingers linger by his.

• The day he initiates touch for the first time catches you both by surprise.

You’re sitting on the edge of a rooftop, watching the sunset and chatting mindlessly, Bucky talking about how this area used to look like when he was young- when he hesitates for a second, then slowly reaches for your hand. His fingers wrap around yours cautiously, like he’s afraid of breaking something fragile.

It’s a big moment for him—one he’d been building up to in his mind for weeks.

He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you, but the soft squeeze you give his hand is all the reassurance he needs.

EXTRA-

• Soon After he asked you out, which of course you say yes to.

Now Bucky is no Virgin, thats not a surprise since before he was a bit of a player- However that was a lifetime ago so now- He feels like he's starting from scratch especially with you.

This day in age also is much more sex positive then back in his day...

"You're Joking-" Bucky asked as he sat next to you slack jawed, while you laugh loudly next to him on the couch of your livingroom, your legs slung over his thighs as you two lounge together, having had to pause the movie that was being played cause it had a Tinder scene and he had been confused.

"No I'm not- I promise" You say with a wide smile as you wipe the tear from your cheek.

"Sex is not as sacred to some as it was before- So yes you can go on your phone and just swipe on pictures of people you'd want to have sex with, agree and meet up" You try to keep your laugh under control at the way his eyes widen and jaw slacks.

"But- No Date No- Dinner? Flowers? Like I had to put in so much effort back then! And now you can just- Do that?" He questions, now sitting up and waving his hand like a old grandma at how this generation is too open and should be more careful!

"I haven't even told you about the wide range of Imternet Porn either- Or Orgies, Sex Clubs, Free Use Clubs, Toys, BDSM" You say as you watch Bucky's face scrunched up in confusion at the last part ad he holds up a hand to stop you.

"B.D.S.M?"

[mt07131]

Moar V photos because I’m in love with her samurai fit :D

[kacievvbbbb]

You do get the sense that the fallout of Roger's death and the Roger pirates disbanding not so much traumatized Buggy and Shanks indifferent ways but instead generated such drastically different reactions to the trauma.

While the trauma of everything seemed to push Shanks into the future, always constantly waiting for something, putting plans on hold and then later in place, for this great moment, this great coming that he sees on the Horizon. For Buggy it rooted him firmly in the past keeping him trapped in this grief masquerading as anger.

While Roger's death forced Shanks to grow up fast, it kind of arrested Buggy's development keeping him stuck in those same feelings, rooted int that same place.

You get the sense that Buggy's whole east blue schtick is just one long overdue rebellious phase one big fuck you to Roger and his ideals. He's rebelling against Roger's principles. One of their rules was don't steal from innocent people and Buggy was keeping a whole town in poverty. If Roger and Luffy's pirating styles are diametrically opposed to someone like Blackbeard, who might be the most literal pirate in the entire series, then buggy is the parody of that Blackbeard piratism. He is playing up cruelty, being the most piratey pirate possible, hell he's literally a clown on a stage. It's all a show! It's his own special way of trying to "get back at Roger" of trying to discard everything Roger taught him for this overacted, over exaggerated clownish cruelty. Mentally he never left that execution square. He is still 15, alone and scared.

Hell he literally never left either, while I'm pretty sure Shanks' booked it out of the east blue as fast as he could, Buggy never lef, might have never left, if not for Luffy. It's part of why Luffy bothers him so much, he's just like Roger everything that Buggy is trying hard to forget and here comes this kid, whose never even met the Captain but is wearing his hat, shoving it right back in his face.

It makes sense that he never leaves the east blue till Luffy literally forces him out of it (fucking with Luffy gets him captured and imprisoned) and it makes sense that it's Luffy that literally breaks him out of prison, literally sets him free, and on the path to greatness that maybe he was always meant to achieve (even if he trips his way into it). This boy that is tragically so much like his old captain but so beautifully unabashedly himself, is what Buggy needs to start letting go off the past, to start trying to move forward.

Maybe that's why Buggy, at what could arguably be described as his lowest moment, gets the strength to free himself from his own self imprisonment, realizing that even back then he was locking himself away and pinning his own dreams on Shanks. And, maybe for the first time ever, Buggy really own his dream. He declares to his tormentors and his crew and the entire world that; actually He wants to find the one piece, him, as captain of his own crew, this crew, not just a part of someone else's. That's his dream and he's willing to turn the world upside down to do it.

[sneepity-snoop-snorpity-sneep]

SWK, putting on a mask: I will conceal my face and make this industrial pipeyard my bachelor pad so no one knows its me

also SWK: *has this epic motorcycle monkey sculpture on display*

IT EVEN HAS THE SAME BLING HE DOES SIR!!!

HOW DID NO ONE KNOW IT WAS YOU

[tomaturtles]

IT'S KAWOSHIN DAY!!! As well as the last day of Kawoshin Week :') It's been such a blast, gonna miss it when it's over

Kawoshin Week Day 7: Cuddling/domestic fluff! + Sleepover and Spinoffs (again)! Based on the Campus Apocalypse sleepover chapter ☺️