I have no idea how I'm ever supposed to trust a romantic partner again.
I trusted that he loved me, I trusted that he was attracted to me, I trusted him to make me aware of his big problems and pain, to repeat himself if I wasn't paying attention in that moment. I trusted him with every single piece of myself and all my fears.
I trusted him with my constructive criticism of him, he asked! And now I dunno. He has this habit of telling the saddest part of a story at a party. He went to a family reunion, and he hadn't seen his family from Texas in a while, they had to leave early because somebody's baby died. On the other side of the family, not his blood relatives, his uncle's wife's family, so they left early. So why did he have to tell that part of the story in the middle of his birthday party? It annoyed me desperately. You have a table full of people hanging on your every word and you have to tell him about dead child that you have no blood relation to and that you didn't know? People struggled to get that conversation back on track or didn't know what to say or do because he was bringing up a death from over a year ago cuz he was telling a story. So you're telling me about child death that is not related to you that happened over a year ago at your own fucking birthday party... And after he had done stuff like that more than two or three times I finally told him. Because yes, you can tell the story but you don't need to go into the depressing details when you have a room full of people listening to you for party stories. And then it was like he didn't understand! He didn't understand the distinction between telling a partner or someone close to him or a small group of people. A story that ended badly or sadly, versus he's at a party or an event that he's hosting. And then he tells a sob story that has almost nothing to do with him or he gets into a sad place about a family member who died with people who never met the family member...
I was trying to help him with social skills and being a good host and now I wonder if that added to the reasons he doesn't love me anymore.
Was I too critical?
Did I fold his laundry too much?
Did I write too many love notes?
We already know I asked for sex too often, and then I was always in the mood and he was never in the mood. Except towards the end he was like annoyed that all we seem to be having was lazy sex in the middle of the night when that was the only kind of sex I could get him to do. By the end he never had energy for sex, never, so I would go to bed early with him and set a text message buzz for 3 am, so I could go pee and wake him up and ask him for sex (He always said well. We'll just have sex like early in the morning or something, that was his plan. That was what he wanted. That's what he told me we were going to do), because HE HADN'T initiated in over a year...
In the last 6 months The only time he seemed excited about sex was when we had other people with us.
Fuck this stupid relationship that I gave my heart and soul to. Fuck this love that I nurtured at the expense of myself. I didn't realize how much of my time, energy and money went into it but not spending $150 twice a month on transportation and takeout will eventually be a nice chunk of change.
I feel like an idiot, I'm hurt, and I feel like he never made time to have big discussions unless it was a hysterical phone call where he tried to come clean about his feelings and then never talk to me about his feelings again. He did that to me twice where he needed to tell me something but could only do it in a phone call and he cried about it and then I was left to take care of myself alone.
Hi! I'm obsessed with your Avengers Pantheon stuff... I thought I'd check on Steve and Bucky today... How are they and their captive lil pet doing?
Thank you so much! Steve and Bucky are doing quite well. Their pet? She’s adapting.
A Little Ficlet for Another Taste of Devouring Rush
Warnings: Dark (Soft Dark Stucky), Medieval(ish) AU, Polytheistic/Pagan Beliefs, Mythology, Yandere Behavior, Obsession, Possessiveness, Endless Hallways, Invisible Servants, Captivity (she calls them her masters), Dubious Consent, Smut (Vaginal Penetration, Nipple Play, suggestion of Somnophilia), Innocence Kink, Pet Names (sweet, blossom). Minors do not interact (18+).
What is morning when the sun and moon don’t rise upon the horizon? Without time, I cannot know for how long I’ve been kept. From the moment I wake to the moment I sleep, my life stretches endlessly.
I rise from the cushion of my bed. No ache, no pain. Only memories illuminated in my mind’s eye, finding their brethren in previous passions. My masters, the Righteous Captain and the Freed Soldier, meticulous in their endeavor of pleasure. Three bodies joining over and over in writhing lust and satisfaction. My purity plundered. Drunk on joy, lust, bliss. A divine communion of worship and reverence shared between mouths and tongues and bodies. Until I succumb to exhaustion and the cycle begins again like the seasons.
My feet weave a path about columns, naked body no shame. My previous life in The Broken Beast dispelled me of such notions long ago. But now, as I wander, phantom hands drape silk over my frame. A luxurious fabric unblemished by the touch of mortal man.
The servants covering my modesty spirits upon the breeze. Invisible to the eye, yet attentive to my every step, providing anything required by my whims or their judgement. They clothe me in fine garments, a protection of my virtue. They provide a tray of food and drink upon a small table, an offering for my strength. My indulgence their design.
I sigh and turn down another corridor. However time passes in the Land Beyond, I spend it wandering the halls of the vast castle of my masters. Every inch of space bedecked in opulence, art and offerings dazzling the eye. To think of my attempt to appeal to them, a simple sachet full of herbs, a shard of glass and a pebble, so paltry in comparison. When true masterpieces line their walls and stretch to the highest heights. Beyond what the eye can see and hidden by clouds. No ceiling to limit the display of grandeur and beauty.
My fingers pluck a morsel from a tray, a bite of boar dripping with black sauce. Another bite passes my lips before I continue on, weaving through familiar passageways and exploring my grand prison. Kept inside, I do not even know whether anything exists without. The crash of the river upon its shore my only indication of something beyond these walls.
With a turn down another passage and another, I pick up a new piece of boar to consume. My fingers stick with the sweet, spiced sauce left by my grazing. An echo of my name floats upon a breeze. A kiss of wind brushes against my cheek as I turn to greet my caller. A hand wraps about my wrist and draws me back.
I fall against a sturdy chest. Plush lips wrap about my sticky fingers. A hum rumbles in their throat.
“Hello, my sweet,” Steve greets from behind. My head turns to return the address, his shoulder leaning against the wall. A smile tilts his lips, his form relaxed and hands upon his belt. My other master, James, holds me in the cradle of his arms, tongue dancing over my fingertips.
The Soldier pulls back, releasing my wrist to let my hand fall limp at my side. “We missed you.”
“Did you miss us?” Steve asks, prompting a reply in their favor.
“Of course,” I demure. My bones engrained with the graces of my training. I spin to greet James readily, wrapping my arms about his neck and cooing sweetly as he buries his face in the crook of mine. “I was trying to bide my time by searching for the gardens.”
The affection borne of our lingering connection, unable to stifle my true feelings toward the lords behind the curtain, the men before me now. Still my captors, murderers. Swept away by them, forced to abandon my family for their safety. Everything falling to their feet, nothing restrained. A mistake, Melinda once said, not to keep something for myself. I thought myself unable to forgive them their many crimes. Until I did.
Steve stalks forward, pushing away from the wall, and tucks a finger beneath my chin to meet my eye.
“Gardens?”
“Or perhaps the riverside?” I continue on smooth, dulcet tones, “with all the beauty surrounding you here, I only thought it might be just as lovely.”
“There’s nothing for you outside our walls,” James grumbles against my skin. His arms pressing tighter, a remonstrance.
“What he means,” Steve says at the mournful tilt of my brow and the hitch of my breath, “is that outside our home, we cannot protect you. You would be vulnerable to any passing beast.”
“Oh.” The sound whooshes past my lips on a disappointed sigh. “I understand.”
Steve’s lips capture mine, an indulgent kiss. I sink into him, knees weak from his attentions. He pulls a breath away to suggest, “Let us take your mind away from such distracting thoughts.”
His whisper shivers down my spine and ignites fiery passion between my thighs. The lick of temptation leaving me defenseless against them. I meet the Captain’s piercing gaze and nod. Ready, as ever, to yield to their insatiable appetites.
James entwines his fingers with mine, palms kissing as he leads me down the hallway. Around only one corner, and we stand before my room. The corridors twisting and reforming to hasten our trek. Miraculous and astounding.
The door stands open. Just as I left it. Lace and the thinnest gossamer draped from the ceiling. Cushions line the floor. Colorful lanterns sparkle above. A fanciful world imitating the nights I sat behind my curtain enticing the eye of suitors, my virginity Aida’s prized gem.
Kisses trail over my neck and shoulders. Two sets of lips forging their own paths across my flesh. I seek their touches in turn. Fingers carding through hair and soft sounds spilling past my lips. The fabric covering my frame puddling on the floor. Whisked away from my feet by phantom hands.
My masters lead me to my bed, guiding my body to recline upon the plush cushion. Their devotion floods my body until I drown. The pinching pain of my deflowering forgotten in the heady rush that consumes. Their love an endless wave that does not recede. Their touch a scorching fire.
Sweat dots my skin. Lips parted on hungry breaths. Eyelids fluttering with euphoria. Steve parts me around his glorious cock and fills me to my limit. James’s hands plucking at the tender buds of my breasts. I moan and writhe between their bodies. Flush with their warmth. Defiled and debauched, exhaustion tickles at the border of my consciousness. My nails bite into their flesh, dragging myself away from the tempting precipice of slumber.
“Rest,” Steve croons into my ear, a kiss trailing my cheekbone to my lips. His hips continuing their exquisite drive.
My head tips back, another wave of ecstasy rushing through my veins. I choke on a gasping cry. Hips bucking in tandem with those plundering my body.
“We will tend to you as you sleep, dear blossom,” James promises.
His sweet words lull me deep into the darkness. My eyes close and I nestle into their embrace. Their hands and lips and pleasure continuing, even as I am lost to them. A new cycle dawning in my eternal existence.
Vampire gloves! My favorite kink toy for sure, they're so much fun! They look scary to a lot of folks but they're actually an amazing sensory toy on top of being a really fun intense spanking/grabbing tool for when you're open to a little bloodshed. 🩸
part of me is sure nymeria will come back because wtf d&d, but another part of me is like "well if they had to buy sansa's wig at the dollar store, maybe their cgi budget is getting tight as well"
yeah they get off too hard on doing whatever’s edgy like ~~~sure edgelords fine fuck you.
@caffeinosis replied to your text post
I hope she'll show up later in season 8 unexpected, otherwise why bother bringing her up? I don't even care if it's a predictable twist
Oh nooooo it looks like a fic I was in love with got removed from archive of our own, which is why I can't remember the name. In it Darcy was a Superhero, and Steve was a reporter, it had fantastic smut, and amazing fluff. Is it posted anywhere else?
