100 % Review Forum Review my snippets?

Here are two exerts from the same piece of writing which I am a little unsure of, I am not looking for advice on the grammar- I will fix that later- more looking at the characterisation and plot. Both oth these scenes are flashbacks in a fanfiction piece. Thank you for your thoughts, they are greatly appreciated. Piece one 1943 The fire roared in the hearth, flames leaping and licking at the stone leading up to the chimney. Natasha groaned, a deep guttural groan, pushing her feet into the mattress she lay on. Her heels sunk in, pushing away the feelings. She was hot, too hot, even though it was around 30 degrees outside and so cold the windows and doors had stuck inside their frames. Her skin had droplets racing over its surface. She rubbed her forehead, her hand coming away wet. Then it started again. Her stomach was squeezing, squeezing so hard against her will, the pain was beyond every understanding she had of pain. It was pure agony. She prayed it would stop, prayed that something would happen to prevent this pain. She tried to grip the sheet under her but her damp, clammy hands slipped and slid on the soft fabric. She roared out in pain, her head flopping back and tossing around like a rag doll or a marionette on a string. Her heels dug in further, she could feel her body straining. She was too young, she wasn't ready. But she had caught first time, Nikolai had been so happy, thrilled. The lump formed in her throat; Nikolai. He was gone, gone a martyr of the war, a Martyr for Russia. Mother Russia had decided he was to fight, he was to die. But he had not been theirs to take. Niko was hers. He would never know what was coming. Natasha's body seemed to arch against her will, pushing her chest up into the air, the laces on the front of the white nightdress she wore coming undone. "Oh Natalia," the woman called, coming to Natasha's side. She stroked Natasha's hand,patting her like a pet. She felt like an animal, a sow or ewe, so full, so heavy; but her time had finally come. She hadn't felt this with Nikolai, she had never been scared- even going so far as to say she had felt invincible with him. She remembered the twinges, the worry on Nikolai's face when she had felt the little pains. She had known it was going to be ok. But he was dead. The old woman, with wrinkles crumpling up her face like a piece of waste paper, left Natasha's side and she grabbed after her. All sense of comfort was gone, she didn't even know this woman, the woman had been a friend of Nikolai's- he had always planned for her to come here when her time came. They had planned Nikolai to be in the next room; waiting. Waiting to hear the cries of his first born, to hear the words 'you have a son,' or, 'you have a daughter.' The old woman rushed round to the end of the little bed, pulling up the sheet that covered Natasha's legs. She peaked under, prodding a little, before reappearing, "Well done Natalia, you are almost there, almost, now I need you to concentrate on me," Natasha listened to the words but her mind was elsewhere. Nikolai had walked in one morning while she was dressing. He had seen her belly, it wasn't that big but it was neat, rounded and her navel stuck out. His eyes had widened, he had been stone faced and then, a grin broke out on his face. "Natalia, we're going to have a baby." "Push Natalia!" She gritted her teeth, her whole body screaming. A grunting screaming noise escaped between her teeth. She pushed herself up on her arms which shook violently under her weight, under the pressure under the raw emotion. She felt the fire between her legs, the burn as the shoulders inched forward. She squeezed her stomach, the ab muscles she had gained over her years of training were rippling. She could do this, she would do it, for Nikolai. She would give him the baby, the baby he had implanted in her belly. The seed that had gone inside her at the right time. It had happened once, on one opportune moment. They had made a baby. And she was going to have his baby, give birth to the perfect thing that Nikolai had left for her. "Nnnyaaaaahh!" She screamed, and then with a whoosh, a splash of fluid she felt the pain release and the child slip from her body. Her body flopped back against the pillows, she allowed a small smile to begin on her face, a smile which broke into a grin. She'd done it, she had managed to give birth, managed to survive it. She knew she was young, she knew the labour could have killed her but she'd done it, delivered her baby, the baby made from her love for Nikolai. She looked up, looking between her legs to the woman who had delivered her child. The woman held her child in a white knitted blanket. The woman had made the blanket, a beautiful one, especially for the baby. But she wasn't smiling, the woman rubbed the babies back roughly. Something was missing. A cry. There was no crying, not so much as a whimper. The child was totally silent. Natasha watched as the woman shook her head, a single tear slipping down her wrinkled face. "I am so sorry Natalia." Natasha felt her heart turn cold in her chest, something was wrong, but it couldn't be. Her baby, her baby had to be ok. Perhaps it was just sick, perhaps she had an infection which she had passed on; her poor baby. But it got worse. The baby was silent. No, no. The woman walked forwards, holding the swaddled infant in her arms, Natasha held her arms out- pushing against the pain in her lower body- and reached up, making a cradle with her arms to hold her baby, her own child; at last. She took the child so soft in the white knitted blanket with its delicate pattern. The baby didn't move, it's chest didn't rise and fall. It was silent and still. She reached out her spare hand, stroked its soft cheek. The child's cheek was smooth and soft but cold. Natasha had seen enough death to know its face. She didn't cry, she didn't scream, she simply nodded. Her heart crushing into splinters, her throat closing up. She moved the blanket, the baby was perfect, it's little round belly, it's ten tiny toes and long but tiny fingers. It's arms were tucked up under its chin, it's legs curled in. It was a girl- she had thought it would be. "She was already gone," the woman said softly, "do you want me to bury her?" Natasha shook her head. She felt numb, as though a part of her- her very soul- had died with the child. Piece two (mature content) "Dor'mo Soldat," Natasha groaned, her head flopping against the bed, his face implanted between her thighs and she swore she would crunch him. There gaze met and he smirked, taking a long slow lick. She sighed, snaking her hand down between her legs, helping herself. James grabbed her wrist, twisting it slightly so it burned. She hissed. He let go and she used it to her advantage, she curled upwards on herself, sandwiching her thighs around his neck, twisting and having him take up her place on the bed. He sighed, his eyes glazed in amazement as his hands went for her hips. She smiled, gyrating herself against his chest so he could feel her heat, her response to his actions. He pushed upwards, her sliding down his body and landing in his lap, he grabbed her jaw pulling her into a kiss. He kissed her deeply, passionately and she hungrily sucked on his tongue like a baby before cupping her breast and leading his mouth to her standing n****e. He noted her sensitivity, she hissed and bit her lip, pushing her body down onto where he was growing harder by the second. She could feel it. It was time for some torture of her own. Her small hand dipped into his jeans, taking a hold of him, giving a slight pressure and sliding her hand up, her thumb over the tip feeling him twitch and grow yet harder under her touch. "O bozhe, vdova.." "Ve ne perputat's vdovoy i zhit." She pulled at his jeans, slipping his substantial petukh from them and pulling herself up, she sighed and with closed eyes slipped herself onto him. With a light 'ugh' from Natalia James gained his que, pushing upwards and into her. She sighed, her tits bouncing in his face- heaven. James held her waist, helping her bounce up and down, although she was more controlled than any woman he knew- she didn't need his help. He became frustrated as she closed tighter around him it was almost unbearable and he was struggling to hold off. He flipped her onto her back, her legs tightening round his lower back and he forced himself harder and faster, making her body jolt with each thrust. "Soldat!" She cried out, pushing her hands into his hair, pushing him down to burry his face in her neck. Several minutes of incessant pounding and tears began to sprout from Natasha's eyes. "Oh James," she whimpered. It was enough for him, seeing her lie there, covered in sweat, her face flushed. He let himself go, firing into her one last time before he felt his release. Natasha smiled, curling her body upwards to kiss his cheek. He pumped a few more times before pulling out, exhausted. He watched as Natasha slipped two fingers into herself, rubbing her thumb against her clitoris. She closed her eyes, gulped the air twice and then shuddered, smiling at him. He collapsed down onto his back, his chest rising and falling quickly. She grinned, slicking up some of the fluid between her legs before rolling to be beside him, feeding him the remains. He sucked her finger. She bit her lip, crawling up the bed and laying so half her body was on his. She curled her leg over him, lying her thigh just above his flaccid dick. Shepherds felt satisfied, more satisfied then she had in a long time. He smelled amazing, and their combined scent filled the room also. She hoped no one would notice- she normally only had these encounters at work, not home. But he was here, her James. She laid a hand on his chest, her body still pulsing. He reached out for her silky kimono- black and red, of course- and laid it over her little body. She began to feel a sensation within her, a cramping feeling- like period pains. But she was weeks off-always knot track in order to schedule missions which may involve her charms. James gave her a worried look, but she shook her head, leaning up to kiss him soft and sweet. The cramping continued but she tried her best to ignore it, this was her time, her chance to be with him before the end, before he was put back forever. She would always have his memories, his legacy, just not in the way she expected

First piece of advice: if you want people to help you, you would help them first. How? Easy! Make sure that we can read your trash so that we can review whatever it is that you want us to review. Forgive my tone, but the first thing that come to my mind is as if you throw something on our table and demand us to do something for you. Now, how can I be nice to someone who disrespected me first? But hey, maybe I misjudged you and you turns out to be a nice but ignorant seven years old boy. So how about we do something about it to get you some honest review?

A careful presentation of your piece of work would be a start. See what I did there with a blank line between paragraphs? It makes it easier for the eyes. Like a fresh breath after a long and exhausting reading. Without it, you would get bored before you even read my review.

I doubt you would read my review up to this point given how lazy you are with your work. But I stick to my principle, and give you one last tip: be a dear and use your brain. I will clue you in on what your brain should focus on: How? How to get people to read my work? Why? Why people should read my work? What? What is it that they will be reading? (Is it appropriate? Is it easy to understand?). Those golden three will help you lots.