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gay-wh0re-slut · 1 year ago

Note

Hiii congratulations on 200 followers! could you write something like the reader and Rhea date, and the reader gets very jealous of the interactions between Rhea and Cathy Kelley, ending fluffy or smut or both lol it's up to your preference 💜

thank you so much!!! i’ve noticed you liking and reblogging a bunch of my stuff and i couldn’t thank you, enough it means so much to me 🩷

but this seems like a fun thing to write and we’ll definitely see where this takes me when we get to the ending haha

after writing: this is a bit short :/ but i hope you like it

Too Friendly

rhea x fem!reader

content: a bit of angst, a bit of fluff

“The honorary member of the judgment day,” the group would call you. You were almost always with Rhea at the shows because you loved seeing everything behind the scenes. The crew didn’t mind much because you kept to yourself and didn’t mess anything up, plus they liked seeing Rhea happy.

You were chilling in the Judgment Days locker room with Dom and Rhea before the other two got there. You were talking about random things and how Dom liked the chicken tenders bit the fans had and what was going on for the night.

Rhea got a text, “Cathy needs me, love, I’ll be back soon,” the australian kissed you before she stood.

“Do you know what she needs?” you were worried.

“Just a tiktok,” she cupped your face with both hands, “It won’t take a long, promise,” she smiled. “Dom!” she pointed at him, “tell her about that one thing,” as she laughed her way out of the judgment day’s locker room.

“Oh yeah!” he laughed with her.

“Okay so,” he started, he tried his best to get it out without laughing again, “Cathy said ‘hey come make a tiktok with me later’ to Rhea and but Rey was standing right there and he said ‘me?’ and Cathy said ‘never in a million years old man’ and he was furious!” he laughed again.

You giggled with him, but you didn’t find it as funny as they did because something else was on your mind.

He finally stopped laughing and caught his breath, “so what have you been up to?” he asked.

“Oh, uh nothing much,” you really didn’t have much going on, you were always with Rhea or at work. “I do have a question though.”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Does… this is so stupid, but does Cathy have a crush on Rhea?” you wrung your hands as you tried not to sound too jealous.

“What? No, never. They’re just good friends and play it up for the fans, Rhea would never leave you or cheat on you or anything, she loves you too much,” he had a sincere tone, he could tell you were upset.

“She’s just always asking to do something with her and- I don’t know it just… I don’t know,” you were picking at the skin around your nails.

He got up and sat next to you, “hey, don’t worry, I promise. Never in a million years would she leave you. She talks about you all the time, I’ve never seen her so happy,” he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and gave a slight squeeze.

You easily gave into it, you let out a big sigh, “okay, thank you,” as you gave him a weak smile.

“You know what,” he stood holding out his hand, “let’s go watch them, maybe she’ll ask us to be in it too.”

You grabbed his hand and he led you out of the locker room.

“Hey Mami!” he shouted as you got closer to them.

“We’re almost done, everything alright?” Rhea seemed worried.

“Yeah! We just wanted to watch you,” he played it off.

You nodded your head in agreement smiling at your girlfriend but shot a look towards the other woman.

“Well, I’m nervous now,” Cathy laughed.

“Oh please,” Rhea laughed with her.

You and Dom sat on some rolling cases that were strewn backstage as you watched them do the same lines over and over to get the right take. You smiled and laughed silently not wanting to mess it up for them. Rhea kept giving you looks of endearment every now and then, but Cathy kept pulling her attention away from you.

They finally finished, “Sorry that took so long, guys,” Cathy said, “you two made me nervous,” she pointed at you and Dom as she playfully leaned on Rhea, giggling.

“All good,” you said smiling but you were a bit upset about this whole interaction.

“C’mon baby,” a familiar tattooed hand reached out to you as her eyes caught yours, she could tell something was up.

You accepted and walked with her, following where ever she went. She led you to the hallway behind the Judgment Day’s locker room, “are you okay?”

You looked at the floor, “yeah,” you didn’t sound too convincing.

She picked your chin up, “no… I can tell something’s up, what’s wrong?”

You started to tear up but you didn’t let them fall, and the lump in your throat was definitely there, “nothing!” You realized how mean you sounded so you fixed your tone, “nothing, I’m okay.”

“You’re lying,” she was trying her best not to get angry at your tone, but her grip was tightening on your chin ever so slowly, “what’s. wrong?”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now,” you said weakly.

She loosened her grip and cupped your cheek, rubbing your face with her thumb, “that’s fine, but we are going to talk about it later. You know I don’t like seeing you upset.”

“I know and we will, just not right now,” you placed your hand on hers, “I have to work it out myself, first.”

“Okay,” she gave you a small smile, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

She gave you a small kiss, “Damian should be back by now, want to go back in?”

You nodded your head as you followed her in.

The night came and went and you were finally heading back home. You had helped your girlfriend pack her things and put them in the truck before she drove the two of you back.

You rested your head on your hand on the middle console, dozing off so she didn’t bother you much on the ride home. Her free hand was gently placed on your thigh the whole way, sometimes gliding it up and down to make sure you knew she was there.

Once inside and after saying hello to the animals, “I think I’m ready to talk about it,” you said plopping yourself on the couch.

She followed and sat down next to you, “go ahead, baby,” she said as she propped her elbow on the back of the couch facing you.

“Okay,” you took a deep breath, “I don’t like…well, I-” you had all this time but you still couldn’t think of the right words to say.

She let you work it out and placed her hand on your knee as she watched you plan your words.

“I think Cathy likes you a little too much,” you finally say.

“I don’t think so,” she scoffed.

“I do, that’s why I was upset earlier. She’s pulls you away for forever, it seems like, and you barely have time to be around me, or the boys for that matter,” the words spilled out of you. “I feel as though that every time I’m around, she pulls you away for some post or tiktok just to get you away from me.”

“I don’t think that was her intention, love,” her voice was calm.

“And the way she touched you when she knew I was watching, ooh I almost jumped her,” your heart rate spiked as it replayed in you head.

“Woah now, I think you’re overthinking it, she’s a touchy person, she does that with everyone,” she was trying to play devils advocate but it wasn’t going too well.

“Not that I’ve seen!”

“I promise there is absolutely nothing going on between me and her,” both of her hands were now on your legs pushing into you to make her point more believable.

“Promise?” you put your hands on hers as you grimaced.

“One hundred percent,” her icy blue eyes stared into yours, “on Barry’s life.”

“Aw don’t bring him into this,” you watched as his ears perked up.

“Sorry bro,” she said to him, “But seriously I promise,” she smiled back at you.

“Okay,” you sighed with relief, “but the next time she touches you a little too friendly, I’m gonna-”

“Hey there, tough guy,” she held your hands from balling into fists, “don’t worry about her anymore and let’s take this energy out somewhere else, yeah?” she winked at you.

“Oh? What did you have in mind?” you smiled knowing her answer already.

“Why don’t you come and find out?” she stood as she used her finger to tell you to follow her to the bedroom.

#rhea ripley #wwe #rhea ripley x reader

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nightingale-ghost-writer · 2 years ago

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I posted 258 times in 2022

That's 258 more posts than 2021!

8 posts created (3%)

250 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@uselsshuman

@luveline

@sleepyconfusedpotato

@iamcalmdammit

@purelyfiction

I tagged 7 of my posts in 2022

#john soap mactavish - 6 posts

#cod mwii - 6 posts

#john mactavish - 6 posts

#simon ghost riley - 4 posts

#simon riley - 4 posts

#soap - 4 posts

#nightingale writes - 3 posts

#neil ellice - 3 posts

#soap mactavish - 3 posts

#uselss’ headcanons - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 28 characters

#nightingale writes sometimes

My Top Posts in 2022:

@uselsshuman LOOK WHAT MY FRIEND SENT ME

46 notes - Posted November 25, 2022

Maybe [Soap x Fem!OC]

Summary: Soap finds a kindred spirit during a trying time

Author’s Notes: This is a little of a long intro, feel free to skip it! I’ve been reading fanfiction for years, and I’ve started dozens of fics. This is the first one I’ve ever finished. (10K words!!!) It started off with me wanting Soap to get some medical care for his unaddressed injuries after Alone, and just exploded from there. I wanted to really highlight the bond he and Ghost formed, and then I wanted to give him love (because he deserves it!). I know it’s a bit sparse on the Price and Gaz side of things, but I feel like their bonds with Soap are sort of assumed going into this game. This game, to me, is about Soap learning that sometimes the right thing to do isn’t always so obvious, and Ghost learning to work with a team, thanks to Soap. I loved this campaign dearly, so I have a lot of dialogue carried over from scenes I really wanted to set. That being said, I changed some stuff to better incorporate my OC, Daniela. Writing reader-insert fics is a skill I just do not possess. If you’re reading, I hope you enjoy it!

And to my dear @uselsshuman, who is the furthest thing from useless, thank you so much for your encouragement to write this. Your writing and support really inspired me to get this done. This one’s for you. ❤

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from Modern Warfare

Warnings: language, canon-typical violence, suggestive content

Soap tucked himself behind a door, braced his back against the wall, and did his level best to breathe as silently as possible. He could hear the Shadows’ footsteps and radio chatter nearby.

He pulled back the hammer on the desert eagle he’d found in the café safe and held his breath. He didn’t want to get into a gunfight, not here. Not with them. He had decent cover, but his arm throbbed where a bullet was lodged, his ribs stung where his plates had kept him from another, his whole body ached from his jumps and falls in the city, and he was almost certain he’d damaged something in his left hip the day before.

That particular injury came from running along cliff faces to escape the cartel, which was bad enough. Adding the Shadows to that? That was terrible.

As the footsteps faded, Soap let out a slow, low breath and slumped to the ground. He let his eyes drift shut, just for a moment, taking stock of his ability to get across the plaza to the church. To Ghost. As if he knew that he was being thought about, Ghost’s voice crackled through the comms.

“Soap?“ he asked softly.

“Ghost,” whispered Soap.

“You alright?”

Soap opened his eyes and took a deep breath, peeked around the door, and answered “Think I found a way through, LT.”

“Shadows are everywhere. I’ll hold ‘em off until we RV in front of the church and secure a vehicle for exfil.”

“Roger that.” Soap crept up through the shop, taking care to stay low and move quietly.

“Give ‘em hell, Johnny. We’re almost there,” rumbled Ghost. After a moment’s pause, he added “Listen, I picked up an ally. Should help us get out of here a little easier. You’ve just got to us and we’ll get to a vehicle.”

Soap’s eyes narrowed. Ally? In Mexico? Only two people came to mind, and they were both “detained”.

“Is it Price?” he asked after a moment’s thought.

“No, one of Alejandro's Vaqueros. Wasn’t on base when Graves moved in. Showed up, realized something was wrong. We found each other killing Shadows, decided to team up.”

Soap chanced raising his head to peer out of the shop window. Seeing no Shadows, he moved for the door. “And you trust ‘im?”

“Enough, at least for now.”

“Copy that, LT. I’m on my way.”

He wiggled the door handle, but of course, nothing could be so easy. It was locked. So he pulled out the last of his makeshift pry tools, braced it in the door jamb, and pulled.

Lots of things happened all at once, then.

The door swung open. Soap yelled “Fuck!” while the Shadow said “what the- GET DOWN!”, and hit Soap with the butt of his rifle. The Shadow called his position, Soap heard “kill him!”, and then the Shadow dropped to the ground. Soap scrambled back, pressing the heel of his hand into his eye and groaning. His vision swam and his ears rang and he couldn’t get his bearings. Two more Shadows, running for the building, dropped to the sharp report of silenced sniper fire.

“Holy hell. Ghost, was that you?” Soap asked.

“Who else?” snapped Ghost’s rough voice. “Now go!”

He scrambled to his feet. And ran.

See the full post

138 notes - Posted November 15, 2022

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

225 notes - Posted November 16, 2022

141 Headcanons - The Five Love Languages

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Simon has been so severely abused for so much of his life that any form of love is just shocking and hard to accept for a long, long time

It takes a lot of time for him to let anyone love him at all. A LOT of time.

Touch would have to be his number one, though. He mostly hates to be touched by people, but once he has a taste of gentle touches, he can’t get enough

For the longest time, the only touch he got was being beaten, shoved, pulled, and manhandled. Enter his military career. Now, any intent to touch is intent to harm

Enter you. Whether it be brushing a hand across his shoulders as you pass, nudging him when something is funny, squeezing his hands or shoulders in reassurance, wrapping yourself in his arms, or wrapping him in yours, your touches have only ever sought to bring comfort to one or both of you

It goes both ways. Once upon a time, his hands were only for hurting other people. But now that he’s been shown physical love, it’s his favorite way to show love, too

Anytime he can, he wants to be touching you, he’ll put his hand on your back, his arm around your shoulders, or his personal favorite: have you curled up in his lap

Just the fact that you WANT to be close to him makes him feel safe and wanted and loved

He even finds himself reaching out to Johnny on occasion now, though he’ll never admit it

It still takes trust and a LOT of time for him to actually let someone close enough to touch him, though

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

Johnny values quality time above all else, though touch is a close, close second

Like Simon, he doesn’t let people too close. He banters and blusters, but few ever make it into the circle he would call his actual “friends”

When he meets you, being around you becomes as important as breathing. Wherever you are is where he wants to be. Whatever you’re doing is what he wants to do

Ghost teases him that he’s like a puppy (he’s not wrong)

You need help moving furniture? He’s there. If something happened? He’s the one you call, and he’s on the phone or on his way until he knows you’re okay. Shopping? Or better yet, cooking? He’ll read the cookbook to you

Speaking of cooking, dinner dates are his forte. He loves taking you somewhere nice to show you that you’re worth his time and money (and to hold your hand). But mostly, he just wants to listen to you and talk with you

Every dinner, while he’s home, is an at-the-table affair so you can both share what’s going on in your lives

And after every dinner is cuddling until bed, unless other activities take priority *wink wink*

You planning time together and asking him about missions makes him feel like the luckiest man alive, because it shows him that you're just as interested in him as he is in you

And of course it doesn’t hurt when you can’t take your hands off him. That’s quality time on a whole new level

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Kyle, soft-spoken man that he is, responds the best to words of affirmation

He’s confident enough, but there’s something about being told when he’s doing things right that really sets his mind and heart at ease

Whether it be on mission or at home, he likes to know he’s not off-base when he thinks he’s done things right

Part of why he and Price are so close is that Price always lets him know how he’s doing

Nothing boosts his confidence like you appreciating him vocally, whether it be for helping you cook or clean or doing the grocery shopping

Obviously, there’s one area of home life that vocal praise means even more

See the full post

240 notes - Posted November 21, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Your Wildest Dreams [Soap x Fem!Reader]

Summary: In a mission gone wrong, you and Soap have to hole up in a safehouse, trying to stay warm during the cold Russian winter

Author’s Note: Not me thirsting after Soap for 5K words instead of finishing the companion piece I started for Maybe… also, my first ever shot at writing reader-insert! Anyway, here’s a really plot-lacking, self-serving piece for anyone interested

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from Modern Warfare

Warnings: Language, canon-typical violence, extremely suggestive, borderline smutty? No actual explicit smut, but let’s call it NSFW to be safe

Shrike /SHrīk/ noun

a songbird with a strong sharply hooked bill, often impaling its prey of small birds, lizards, and insects on thorns

a 10-foot (3-meter), 400-pound (180-kilogram) U.S. air-to-ground missile designed to destroy missile batteries by homing in on their radar emissions

Icy water enveloped you. Pinpricks instantly broke out under your skin, dancing through your blood and your bones. For a blessed moment, your mind went blank. Then, survival instinct kicked in. You kicked your already numbing legs as hard as you could, launching yourself back toward the night sky. Just as you thought your lungs might burst, you broke the surface, gulping in the crisp mountain air. It burned the back of your throat as you bobbed in the current, trying to get your bearings.

What should have been an hour-long intel collection mission had gone to shit in less than a minute.

You and Soap had been dispatched to a safehouse of Makarov’s in the Russian countryside to gather intel. You were anxious- excited to be out with Soap, nervous about the actual infiltration. Soap’s signature flirting melted that anxiety quickly. It was one of the reasons you enjoyed missions with him so much… and one of the reasons you got so flustered around him.

Tensions with Russia were high, so rather than sending a full team, the pair of you had been dropped off by helo three clicks from the site. You’d go in, get the intel, get to the safehouse, and wait for evac. Barring any immediate danger, you’d be holed up there overnight, hiking out early the next morning to be picked up. Price was unhappy about sending you in without comms or backup, but Laswell was concerned with radio traffic and her sources had told her it would be empty.

Laswell’s sources had been wrong.

You’d taken a long, cold hike up the frozen mountainside to a deteriorating stone building that might at one time have been a castle, but was now little more than half-crumbled walls and hastily built wooden shacks. There had been no indicators that anything was amiss- no footprints in the snow, no pings on Soap’s heartbeat sensor, no noise. Laswell’s intel had seemed good.

Then you’d opened the door to one of the shacks and been met with a full squad of soldiers. They clearly hadn’t been expecting you, and you had the distinct advantage. Before they could react, you’d grabbed the nearest soldier, using him as a human shield while you put him in a headlock. Soap had sprung past you, shooting two others before ducking behind a desk. An overeager and overconfident soldier had fired several shots at you, nearly grazing your arm, but killing his teammate in the process. Soap had lunged at him, baring him to the ground and stabbing a combat knife deep into his throat.

The three remaining soldiers raised their weapons, shouting to each other. You’d killed one with a well-placed throwing knife as you threw yourself behind a table and watched in horror as another launched himself at Soap. You raised your gun, but there was no clean shot with them grappling as they were. Then, you were blindsided by the last soldier. He leapt at you as you tried to line up a shot on his teammate, knocking your gun to the ground and grabbing one of your wrists.

Instinct took over as you wrestled, and before you knew what was happening, you and your attacker were flying through the nearby window. You both rolled down a steep, snowy hill toward a frothing river, each trying to get the upper hand. Before either of you could, you went straight into the icy river, sinking instantly. Luckily, you recovered first.

After taking a moment to breathe, you dove back underwater, looking around for your attacker. He was close enough to reach out and touch, back to you as he tried to get to the surface for a breath of air. You swam toward him, wrapped an arm around his shoulders to hoist yourself up, and stabbed him. Once in the neck, once in the ribs, and then once in the chest for good measure. His body had gone limp at the first thrust, but you couldn’t be too safe.

As soon as his body floated out of your arms, you realized the bigger issue- the current, and the cold. You were already being dragged downstream, the tide splashing over your head and threatening to pull you back under. You swam for the bank, but your progress was minimal. Your muscles were already starting to freeze up. You looked around frantically, desperate for something to hold onto. Just as your fingers met with a sharp rock, you heard Soap’s voice calling your name.

You looked up to see him scrambling down the hill, sliding on snow and loose bits of shale. Blood dripped from his temple and he seemed to be cradling his arm to his chest. You tried to pull yourself out of the water to meet him on the banks, but your muscles refused to work. The icy water was doing its work and you could feel your body beginning to shut down.

“Soap,” you called weakly. He had almost reached you. “I can’t move.”

He waded waist deep into the water, reaching out for you with the arm that wasn’t held carefully to his side. “‘S alright, lass, I’ve got you. Take my hand.” You shakily, slowly, tried to reach for him, barely managing to brush the tips of your fingers against his, and he managed to lean just a bit further out to wrap his hand around yours. He tugged you toward him, and after a moment, was pulling you into his side. “You’re freezing, Shrike,” he murmured, rubbing your arm for a moment. You were shivering violently, barely able to move.

“I am,” you said, teeth chattering. “Your head.” Soap waved you off as he looked around, gaze settling in the direction of the town where you were supposed to wait for evac.

“The intel-”

Soap cut you off, shaking his head. “Forget the intel. Price said if anything went wrong, we get to the safehouse.” His eyes scanned your body, looking for any injuries, as his hand rubbed over your arms. “Are you okay? Can you make it back to town?” You nodded, your violent shaking making it nearly impossible to tell. You reached for his wrist, pressing on it gently. You were no medic, but it didn’t feel broken to you.

You held his wrist with one hand as the other reached up to wipe the blood from his temple. “You okay?” you asked. He winced as you wiped at the blood, but nodded. You breathed a sigh of relief when only a shallow cut was visible.

“Just a sprain,” he said. He pulled his wrist carefully from your grip and unzipped his jacket, pulling it off.

“W-what are you-”

See the full post

243 notes - Posted December 6, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

Clearly I don’t know how to tag, or to, you know. Write my own stuff. Lol

But oh my goodness, I wrote three things this year, within the last month. They ALL THREE ended up in my top posts. I cannot believe how much support I’ve gotten for these fics. To everyone who’s read them, thank you so very much! I love you!

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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rhpsdys · 2 years ago

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KNOWING YOUR PARTNER WELL CAN POTENTIALLY MAKE WRITING TOGETHER A LOT EASIER. ( REPOST DO NOT REBLOG!)

✿ NAME: eros

✿ PRONOUNS: they/he but the he is silent, so really just they/them

✿ EXPERIENCE/HOW LONG (MONTHS / YEARS?): about 9 years on tumblr (dear god) && another 3 on other platforms before that

✿ NAME OF MUSE(S): raine whispers ! i also have an abundance of other muses on @whsprhouse && @tongowheel plus some single-muse blogs with varying degrees of activity

✿ PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION: discord is preferred once we’ve interacted a little, whether that’s through tumblr ims first or just writing together a bit

✿ PLATFORMS YOU’VE USED: mainly tumblr, but also discord, twitter, instagram, && my humblest beginnings... the fanfiction.net forums

✿ BEST EXPERIENCE: overall, the 7+ years i’ve spent in the star trek rpc on && off. it’s been by far the most chill rpc i’ve been in with the least amount of bullshit, && i’ve made some amazing friends who i consider irl friends even though we live in very different places; we’ve visited each other a few times over the last year && a half or so which great. but also the undertale rpc, circa early 2019 — that’s the most fun i’ve had in an rpc, && talk about making friends — i wrote one silly crack thread about skeleton sex ed with a mutual i’d never spoken to, && now almost 4 years later we live together.

✿ RP PET PEEVES/DEALBREAKERS: how about one of each? for a dealbreaker, in terms of what will make me not follow a blog: i don’t care about aesthetics or formatting or graphics or whatever, but i really do check for writing quality. i don’t need purple prose, i’m not asking for your blog to read like a new york times bestseller, but if all you’re writing is dialogue, no real description or action, if there’s inconsistent grammar && a general lack of focus on writing... i don’t care, you do you, but we won’t be a good fit. as far as pet peeves go, i love talking ooc with mutuals about our muses && stuff, and (as evidenced above) i like making friends too. but it takes me a while to get to that point, && an abundance of non-rp/muse related ooc talk right out the gate makes me balk a little, as does constant conversation && communication in general. i’m just — really busy && have a limited social battery, so it can take me a while to reply to messages && stuff if it’s not like, specific to our muses or something we’re writing.

✿ FLUFF, ANGST OR SMUT: this is so interesting. like. yes to all? and no to all? i love fluff in very small doses but if it’s all a thread is, it gets boring really fast. angst is super fun to write but it needs to be balanced — again, if it’s always leaning on one muse going through it™ && the other is the constant caretaker, that gets dry too. i don’t write smut super often, && it truly depends on the muse && how sexual they are by nature. my ideal threads are either plot-driven or grounded in character development/dynamic development. muses being put in situations. muses talking about their issues without it becoming heavy hurt/comfort. that kinda thing.

✿ PLOTS OR MEMES: overall, plots are necessary for characters who have never interacted in canon, even if it’s as simple as “hey these muses have ROUGHLY this dynamic” && then a meme is great to kick off actually writing. in terms of threads themselves, if it’s a continuation or a meme or a starter call post that had some serious thought put into it/is based on a discussed dynamic, it can turn into something great without plotting. but i also love when i discuss a plot with someone && then we start a thread based on it.

✿ LONG OR SHORT REPLIES: i tend to write longer things, averaging three paragraphs or so, but easily longer if it makes sense to. i try to rein myself in because long replies, obviously, take longer && more focus, so sometimes i like to keep things short just so i can write more when i’m busy. doesn’t always work though.

✿ BEST TIME TO WRITE: fuck if i know. usually at night, but only when i have time to stay up && don’t need to be anywhere in the morning. i get most of my writing juice while i’m at work, && so when i get home at 10pm, that’s when i’m ready to bang out drafts.

✿ ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S): in a lot of ways, yes. not so much that i actually put myself into raine, but more like i keep finding things about them relevant to my own life. we are both nonbinary && transmasc, we’re both somewhat socially awkward but also know how to really step it up && take charge, despite those nerves. i love music but i don’t consider myself a musician — however, i do work in orchestra/concert management, && i keep having moments of being like “oh raine did this for a while in the earlier years in the bard coven”, so. yeah. raine is someone i wish i was more like, tbh. they’ve got about 20 years on me though, so i have time to get there.

Tagged by: i stole it ! Tagging: if you haven’t done it yet: tag, you’re it !

#out of.#hi <3

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candy-and-writing · 2 years ago

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I posted 2,082 times in 2022

42 posts created (2%)

2,040 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@onsunnyside

@comfortcap

@dadplease

@musette22

@shakespeareanqueer

I tagged 150 of my posts in 2022

#gifs - 43 posts

#bucky gifs - 28 posts

#steeb gif - 12 posts

#my thoughts - 9 posts

#mailbox - 9 posts

#she hulk spoilers - 7 posts

#mom spoilers - 6 posts

#she hulk - 6 posts

#writing tips - 6 posts

#noot noot asks - 6 posts

Longest Tag: 96 characters

#there’s a phoebe bridgers lyric for every pivotal moment in my life and this one is no exception

My Top Posts in 2022:

anybody have any stucky x reader fic recs? comfort preferably, but any are appreciated 💕💕

16 notes - Posted January 14, 2022

hey friends! okay, so i’ve been trying to find this fic for a while and i just can’t find the author. it’s a bucky x reader. the reader escaped from hydra and is working at stark tower when bucky comes up with a sexy proposal. reader admits she’s not very sex-active and instead bucky proposes to teach her about sex. just vanilla stuff at first but it becomes more kinky as time goes on. each chapter is basically a different sex encounter with bucky and the reader. also bucky used to date natasha.

anyone have any ideas?

21 notes - Posted April 19, 2022

i’m sorry but sebastian stan portraying a character with a breeding kink has me gASPING

21 notes - Posted February 2, 2022

hey, just a little psa but on pornhub someone uploaded part of pamela anderson’s sex tape. i’ve already reported it but if you see it please report it. pamela did not consent to have that on that website and she did not consent for the population to see it

69 notes - Posted February 19, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

make it all better

summary: after comforting you from a nightmare, steve and bucky always know how to make everything better

warnings: allusions to past rape, allusions to sexual assault, fluff, trauma, ptsd, our boys are real sweethearts

taglist: @ally22042000 @sightiff

a/n: goodness, okay. hello, again! it’s been a while since i posted anything! this is for @eun-dadplease 5k celebration (nothing line submitting a story an hour before it’s due 🥲) anyway, i hope you like this, it isn’t as detailed or as long as i hoped it would be, i’ve got finals this week and school has been killing me

disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this work aside from the OC/reader that is given below, all other characters—unless specified—belong to Marvel and the MCU. I am NOT responsible for your media content consumption. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and/or dark themes. By reading this work you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I DO NOT CONSENT to have my work posted on any third party app or website; if you are seeing this work anywhere other than tumblr and archiveofourown, it has been reposted without my permission. DON’T. STEAL. MY. WORK.

The world spun around you. The bright lights above you circled each other above you as you stared up at them. You couldn't move, your shivering frame glued to the cold floor. Your lips parted as you tried to scream, yet your voice was silent. You screamed until you were breathless, but nothing reverberated off the walls.

"What's the matter, Angel? Cat got your tongue?"

You heard his voice, his chuckle echoing in your ears, but you couldn't see him. You felt his hands on you, touching you as you were frozen to the ground, unable to move or scream for help.

"Be a good girl now, Angel, maybe I'll be gentle."

The screaming woke Bucky up in a cold sweat. He shot up with a gasp as the shrill shriek echoed through the walls of his room. He shoved Steve, who was asleep beside him. Steve woke with a jolt, his hair disheveled from sleep and a pattern of wrinkles from his pillow imprinted into his cheek.

"What?" Steve slurred, blinking up at Bucky. Bucky was already out of bed, yanking a shirt over his head.

"It's Y/n, she's—"

Bucky was cut short by another terrified wail resonating throughout the room. Steve rushed out of bed, clumsily shuffling on a pair of pants before he followed Bucky out of the room. Natasha opened her door, looking at the pair.

"You guys got it?" she asked, stifling a yawn.

"Yeah," Steve said, "we got her. Go back to bed."

Natasha nodded, giving Steve and Bucky a quick wave before she closed her bedroom door. The two super soldiers rushed to your room, just opposite of Natasha's, and carefully opened your door.

You were curled into a ball, the covers kicked off the bed. You clutched your pillow as tears streamed down your cheeks, sweat beading at your hairline. You cried out again, your grip tightening on your pillow. Bucky crouched down beside your bed, gently brushing a strand of sweat-soaked hair away from your face, cooing as you whimpered.

"Y/n, honey," Bucky crooned. "It's okay, it's just a dream, doll."

His knuckles grazed your cheek and your eyes open with a gasp. You shot up and immediately began to shuffle away from Bucky, nearly falling off the bed. Bucky launched himself forward and grabbed your arm before you fell, pulling you back toward him.

"It's okay, Y/n, it's just us," Bucky says gently, holding his hands out like a sign of surrender.

"Bucky?" Your voice was cracked and hoarse from screaming. "S—Steve?"

"Yeah, sweetheart," Steve smiled, sitting beside you. "We're here. It's okay."

Your lower lip began to wobble and you reached out for Steve, who embraced you in a hug. Steve shushed you as you cried into his shoulder, petting your hair softly.

"It's okay, sweetheart. You're okay. It was just a dream."

"Hey, honey," Bucky cooed. "How about I go warm you up some of that cider from yesterday, yeah? How does that sound?"

You nodded against Steve's chest, arms latched across the back of his neck as you clung to him. Steve rubbed your back gently, kissing your temple as Bucky left your room.

"You're okay, sweetheart, it was just a dream," Steve whispered. "Can you try to talk to me? Tell me what your dream was about?"

Steve felt you part your lips and stutter, like you were trying to form words. The shaking in your shoulders got worse and you let out a broken sob, trying to wiggle closer to him.

See the full post

273 notes - Posted April 30, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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fremioneshufflepuff · 8 months ago

Text

Paper Rings

Authors Notes: This is my first full length Fremione fic! I have no clue how long it’s going to be we’re just going off vibes. For sure covering books 5-7 and maybe sometime beyond that. Comments, reblogs, asks are always welcome for this!

Word Count: 1,020

Warnings: Mention of Hermione obliviating her parents but it doesn’t happen. Minor Swearing

Ch 1

Hermione couldn't help but wonder how much longer she would be surrounded by her childhood room and in her childhood home. The world that she had grown to love over the last three years had gone to hell in a handbasket as her parents would put it, had she told them everything. It wasn't that she didn't want to tell them, but given her track record of getting into trouble, she found it better to just tell the good stuff and keep the bad to herself. It was bad enough that they nearly pulled her out of school after her second year, and for them to hear that the wizard who killed her best friend's parents was back, well that would just escalate the issue.

She flopped down on her bed, as Crookshanks leapt onto the mattress. “Crookshanks, what am I going to do?” she asks aimlessly knowing full well that the cat couldn’t answer, and he just purred in response, flicking his tail back and forth as Hermione stroked his thick fur. She stayed like this for a while until an idea came to mind.

“Oh. Oh no. No, no no.” She muttered under her breath, her hands running through her hair, as she hopped up from her bed and paced in front of her bookshelf. “Dammit. I’m going to have to modify Mum and Dad’s memories. I don’t have any other options. I should write Professor McGonagall so at least someone knows.” She says, as she reaches for a pen and notebook from her shelf, knowing that this would be the most secure way to write and keep her plans.

She wrote down what she knew about memory charms and her heart dropped a little knowing that things could go wrong and she may never get her parents back. She wrote her letter to Professor McGonagall, and posted it the next morning after she visited the backroom of the nearest post office to send her owl.

When she got home, she tried to avoid her parents but failed miserably, as she was hounded by her mother the moment she walked through the door. “Hermione, where have you been?” “The post office mum. I had to send an owl to a professor.” “Send an owl, you’ve only been on break for a day!” Her mother exclaims, as Hermione walks past her from the doorway and into the kitchen.

”I had to ask about a class I’ve signed up for, that’s all mum.” She says, as she fills up a glass of water at the sink, hoping her answer was enough for now. Her mother didn’t respond besides a small hum and Hermione was content enough with that answer.

She made her way out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her room, and heard her dad come into the house. She stopped at the landing, straining to hear the conversation that had started. “John, I’m worried she’s doing too much again.” “Anne… she’s fine. She just had a simple question.” “But it's only the second day of her break. No one should have questions about classes for the next school year on the second day of a break. It’s not healthy.” She hears her father sigh, and quietly makes her way from the landing to her bedroom, closing the door, silent tears making their way down her face.

Minvera McGonagall was used to owls from students even during a break, but this one surprised her the most. It was from Hermione Granger, and she needed to know how to obliviate her parents so that Voldemort wouldn't be able to gain information, and so that eventually she could give them their memories back if at all possible.

She read and re-read the letter multiple times to make sure she was truly understanding what her student was asking. There was only one person she could trust with this information. She tucked the letter in her desk drawer and made her way to Flitwick’s office.

As she made her way across the castle to the charms corridor, she couldn’t help but wonder and worry about the girl. She thought back to her second year and how her parents were worried when they hadn’t heard from her for a while.

She told them what had happened and they nearly took her out of the school. It took some convincing, but they let her stay and allowed her to come back the following year after promises from the head of house that nothing would happen and that she would be busy with her coursework. Minvera wasn’t sure if Hermione had told them the full truth after her third year, and assumed she omitted parts if she told them anything at all. She knew for a fact not a mention of the events of the past month would pass her lips if she wanted to stay enrolled in the school.

She knocked on the door of the office, and heard the squeaky voice of her colleague beckon her inside. “Minerva, to what do I owe the pleasure?” he asks pleasantly, as she sits down in the chair across from his desk. “Miss Granger has written me a letter. Asking how to obliviate her parents memories of her to prevent You-Know-Who from gaining information” She says with a sigh, a frown forming on her face.

Filius blinks in surprise as his mouth falls open. “Minerva. you can’t be serious.” “As serious as ever Filius.” she replies, pinching the bridge of her nose. “There’s no denying that You-Know-Who is back and given that Miss. Granger is not only friends with Mr. Potter but also a muggle-born I understand her view of protecting her parents.” “Quite so. Well we obviously won’t have the logistics figured out immediately but let her know that we are able to help.” Flitwick says, standing from his seat, following McGonagall to her office to pen the letter.

They sent the letter off with the owl that Hermione had sent, and went about their duties around the castle for the day. Both hoping for the best with what they were about to undertake.

#fred weasley #fremione #hermione granger #paper rings #fremione fanfic #k writes

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silentexplorer18 · 10 months ago

Text

Regarding the future of this blog

Hi folks! This one got a bit long, so I'm putting it under a cut.

TLDR: I've been really unhappy blogging for quite a while, so I'm finally embracing being a messy, multifandom blog that posts things without tagging them well, posts more personal things, mostly focuses posting my own fic on AO3, etc. If you're not into that, feel free to eliminate my presence on your dash. XO -Silent

When I started this blog a few years ago, I was essentially starting with zero knowledge of the social side of the internet. Sure, I'd read stuff on tumblr blogs, but I’d never used tumblr or looked at anything besides what was listed directly on a masterlist. I’d never used other social media sites, either. So, when I started using things like tumblr and instagram and even discord, I was trying to follow along and do whatever everyone else was doing. I tried to post clearly tagged stuff and keep my blog super organized; I posted cutesy photos with whimsical captions; I tried to find my footing in conversations that were hard to follow. But I always felt like I could never keep up. I was trying to follow the motions to make my online spaces what I thought they needed to be, but I never could do the motions quite right, so I kept getting more and more discouraged.

Why am I telling all of you this? Because I think 2024 is the year something needs to change.

I started off wanting this blog to be super pretty and aesthetic. I wanted my fics to be clearly organized and have easily navigable links. I wanted to only reblog fandom-specific things. I wanted to keep everything very on topic. And I wanted to be active in fandom (interacting with other fandom readers, makers, doers, etc.). But in trying to do all of the former, I’ve spent so much physical and mental energy that I don’t have the time, energy, or ability to do the latter. I felt like if I couldn’t do all of that, I shouldn’t do any of it, and, well, that’s plain not true.

The truth is this: I’m messy, and I write slowly. I like so many things, and I actually love to talk a lot. Keeping tags organized is hard and it makes me tired. Posting on tumblr (instead of just ao3) is hard sometimes because it makes me tired. I like talking to people and reccing fics and gushing over art, but I can’t always make it picture-perfect or aesthetic or linked so it’s easily navigable. Life is hard, and using social media should be something fun, not something to agonize over.

So, I’m making some changes:

I’m gonna be posting a lot more. Rambling about life. Sharing writing updates. Making you all privy to my shower thoughts.

But the writing projects I have will still be long hauls. Strap in, folks, ‘cause we’re probably looking at months-long to years-long updates. (Nothing is ever dead, just, you know, aging like fine wine or something.)

I’m not sure how many writing projects will be posted here, either. I enjoy posting on AO3. I like the format. I like the way it works. I like that it organizes everything for me. If I post something there, I’ll obviously share the link here, but I don’t know how many fics I’ll be posting here moving forward.

Also, I’m just gonna start reblogging shit like crazy. Anything! Everything! All at once! The tumblr is my oyster!

Despite reblogging more, I’m just gonna let this blog become more disorganized. If I have the energy to tag stuff, I will, but I think I’m just gonna focus on sharing things rather than sharing things in a way that’s particularly organized.

I’m gonna start reblogging more fic recs here, too (and sharing ones from AO3!). I will, of course, be keeping my fic rec blog, and it’ll get its own small update post, but the goal is to just give myself the permission to be less organized so I have more energy to enjoy and share fic.

Related: the blog might get a makeover. I’m not sure yet because I’ve had roughly the same colors/theme/pfp for all the years I’ve had this blog, so changing it will be hard. (And I have no idea what exactly to change to!) But we’ll see. Ideas are welcome.

I feel a little melodramatic making this big, long post about this, but I feel like the folks that are still hanging around my blog (you lovely, few and far between, who are neither bots nor dead blogs, I adore you all immensely) are hanging around for a reason, and I want to give fair warning that the activity levels here will be changing, the tagging system/findability of things will be changing, the location of fics being posted will be changing. It felt right to warn people so they could unfollow/block if they so desire.

But anyway, happy (late) 2024! I hope this post finds everyone well, and I’m excited to see what the future holds!

-Silent

#silent talks #blog update #this feels so dramatic and pointless to post #but I also just wanted to get my thoughts out there written down #so I could start changing things #because to change something intentionally you must acknowledge what it is you want to change and how #and also I wanted to give folks a bit of a warning to unfollow if they don't like the changes that are coming #because I think I was still trying to hold onto what my blog was when it started #and it is NOT gonna be like that anymore #2024 is the year of being myself unapologetically #and that starts with my tumblr blog

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unwrittenlibrary · 4 years ago

Text

adore you

summary // bucky and alpine enjoy their solitude, but the girl across the hall is slowly creeping into their hearts. (bucky x fem!reader)

words // 7.4k

warnings // diverges from canon & no major spoilers.

notes // just thousands of words of fluff bc that’s all i know how to write. maybe one day i’ll venture into anything else. fluffy bucky has my heart

reblogs & replies are greatly appreciated!

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

The first time you knock on Bucky’s door Alpine wanders over curiously.

Bucky stares at the door silently urging you to go away. You knock again and Alpine begins to paw at the door before meowing loudly, which makes Bucky groan. “I’m coming.” He calls as he stands from the couch. He pauses the movie playing on his television, something ridiculous that Sam had insisted on. Alpine meows again and Bucky can hear you laugh through the door.

He pulls on a hoodie that’s laying on his counter and stuffs his left hand into the front pocket. When he pulls the door open you smile brightly. “James!”

The two of you had met briefly when Bucky had originally moved into the building. You had smiled the same bright smile in the elevator and offered up your name easily. Bucky had smiled tightly in return and told you his full name, a habit he had yet to break, and he deeply regretted it. Every time you passed in the hallway you called out a cheery James despite Bucky’s corrections.

“It’s Bucky.” He mutters. Your eyes move over his shoulder and Bucky watches as you take in his very undecorated and barely furnished apartment. Bucky didn’t mind how seemingly empty his place was. He wasn’t home a lot and nobody but Sam spent time with him. Sam might think it was time to add barstools and a spice rack, but Bucky was content with how things were.

Your attention is pulled to Alpine as he peeks out from behind Bucky’s legs. “And who are you?” You ask quietly as you squat down to meet his eyes. You hold a cautious hand out and Alpine only stares. You wait for a moment before he turns and moves back into the apartment.

You don’t seem to take it to heart though. You laugh as you stand up. “He takes after his dad, huh.” There’s a teasing glint in your eyes and Bucky should be offended but the comment actually makes him smirk.

“His name is Alpine.” Bucky says monotone as he watches you rock back and forth on your feet. “Did you need something?”

“Oh!” Your eyes light up as if you had completely forgotten your reason for coming here in the first place. “I need salt! Do you have any?” Your eyes move behind him again as if you’re now suddenly worried the answer won’t be yes.

“I have salt, yes.” He doesn’t move from his spot and only stares down at you. Your eyes flicker around the hallway before you smile nervously. “Can I have some?” You ask quietly.

Bucky nods and makes his way into his kitchen. He expects you to stay and wait in the doorway, but he hears the door shut behind you.

“Didn’t want him to get out.” You say as you lean against his counter. Bucky’s a little put off by your brazen personality, but you don’t seem to notice his discomfort. “How long have you lived in DC?” You ask as Bucky moves to pull the salt out.

“How much do you need?” He asks instead of answering.

“Not much! A couple teaspoons.” Bucky’s stoic attitude doesn’t seem to deter you at all. He glances around the bare kitchen before deciding to just give you the shaker.

“I don’t have anything to put it in, just make sure to return it eventually.” He shrugs as he slides it over to you. You grasp it in your hand but make no effort to move. Bucky sighs. “And I’ve lived here for a couple years now. I… I moved here after the Blip.”

He wonders briefly if you know who he is. He’s not sure what happened in the years of the blip, if his name had been marked on one of those memorials. That had been before his pardon, so he assumes not. He wonders if Steve’s exhibit had been changed. He hadn’t been back since before the blip. Was he still in it? Had they changed it or was Bucky Barnes still dead in America’s eyes? His eyes find yours and then he wonders if you did know who he was, were you worried?

You seemed fine around him. He hadn’t seen any recognition on your face when he had introduced himself all those months ago. A frown tugs at your lips. “Were you…” You trail off but Bucky knows the question.

Bucky nods tightly and you take a step away and move towards his door, like you know he’s reached the limit on sharing personal details for the night. “Me too.” You finally say when your hand lands on his door knob. You pause. “It’s weird. Right? Coming back to a completely different world?”’

“Yeah.” He nods. You have no idea, he thinks. He had just begun to figure out how to live free again and then he was gone. And when he came back, he was thrust into battle then lost Steve to a world Bucky was no longer a part of. “It’s weird.”

You smile apologetically. “Thank you for the salt, James.” You say quietly. His eyes flash to yours but your face doesn’t give much away.

He nods and the door slams shut. Alpine comes trotting out and rubs against Bucky’s shins. “Yeah, she’s weird.” Bucky reaches down to softly pet Alpine’s back. “Pretty though, huh?”

Alpine pushes against his hand and Bucky takes that as agreement enough.

Bucky liked helping Sam down at the VA. Handing things out, setting things up, and talking with veterans gave Bucky a sense of something. It gave him something to do when Sam and him weren’t away on missions.

And he got to spend time with Sam. While it was something he would never admit to the man, he enjoyed his company. Sam had slowly become Bucky’s best friend. Not that Bucky really had any other close friends.

“Thanks for helping out today.” Sam smiles as Bucky leads him through the hallway towards his apartment. “But you know, you can just come for a meeting. To talk.”

Bucky nods. He did know that, really. But Bucky was okay with listening for now. Maybe one day he would share some of his story, but helping out now was helping him.

Bucky stops short in the hall when he notices something sitting outside his door. He throws an arm out that Sam slams into. “Jesus, what…” He trails off when he notices what Bucky had seen.

There’s a small brown box sitting on the ground. “Stay here.” He murmurs as he begins to move towards the object. Sam gives Bucky a look before following behind him. “Or not.” He glares. Both men kneel down in front of the box. There’s not much that gives anything about what’s in the box away, just his name written in fancy script.

He reaches a hand out to touch it when the sound of your door opening makes him second guess and pull away. You were a little weird, but he didn’t want to blow you up.

“James!” Him and Sam look over at you as you lock your door. You’ve got a red apron wrapped around your waist and your bag is slipping off your shoulder. Before Bucky can say anything like be careful, you furrow your brows at the men. “What are you doing? Do you not like cookies?”

“Cookies?” Bucky asks as he glances down at the box again. Sam has already stood up and straightened out, but he’s still kneeling in front of the door. He can hear Alpine pawing at it, no doubt having heard Bucky’s voice, and he feels a little ridiculous now. “It’s Bucky.” He adds on now that he knows it’s not an explosive sitting in front of him.

You nod slowly with a confused smile on your face. “Cookies. I made a bunch so I packed up the extra for you. When I knocked nobody answered so I left them, I wasn’t sure if I’d be home when you got back.”

Bucky feels heat rise to his cheeks. He hastily picks the box up and stands. Sam laughs loudly and Bucky glances at him coldly. “Thanks.” He says quietly.

You rock back and forth on your feet again. Must be a nervous habit, Bucky thinks. “I also made some cat treats. For Alpine.” Bucky recognizes the nervous tone in your voice as you stare at the box in his hands. “Thank you. For the help.” You say before spinning on your heel. You freeze and turn again, this time your eyes land on Sam. “Nice to meet you, Captain America, sir.” You look like you’re thinking of throwing your hand up in salute, but instead you turn again and rush down the hall.

Bucky just stares after you until a muffled meow breaks his focus. He shakes his head before shoving the box into Sam’s hands and moving to unlock the door. “So.” Sam says with a poorly contained smirk as he follows Bucky inside. “She seems nice, James.”

Bucky groans before snatching the box from his hands. “She knows I go by Bucky, she just calls me that to mess with me… I think.”

“And she knows Alpine?” Sam kneels down to pet said cat, but he jumps away and hides behind Bucky’s legs. “Come on, Al. We’ve known each other since you were adopted.” Sam stands up and rolls his eyes at Bucky.

Bucky laughs softly at the cat. “She asked to borrow salt last night and kind of met him. Alpine didn’t really stick around to hang out with her.” He begins to open the box and notices a small note taped to the inside of the lid.

He pulls it off hesitantly. “What’s her name?” Sam leans against the counter and pulls a cookie out of the box.

“Y/N.” He says quietly as his eyes skim over the note.

James,

Thank you for the salt. And the conversation. I hope you enjoy the cookies. I made some simple tuna treats for Alpine.

Step One in getting your cat to love me.

Bucky lays the note on his counter and looks into the box. His shaker is standing in the corner next to a small plate of cookies and a jar of what he assumes are the cat treats. Sam laughs and Bucky glances up to see him reading over the note. “Hey!” Bucky yanks it out of his hand and shoves it into one of the drawers in front of him.

“Getting Alpine and you to love her, she means.” He laughs again and Bucky rolls his eyes. “That’s cute. I didn’t know you had a little flirtationship going on.”

Bucky scoffs. “I don’t… What does that even mean? Did you see us in the hall? I don’t flirt with her.”

Sam reaches for another cookie. “Really? Just felt like that’s how you would flirt. And you blushed so…” He trails off with a smirk.

“I wasn’t blushing!” Bucky says defensively. He didn’t blush just because a pretty girl gave him cookies. He wasn’t in middle school. When Sam reaches for another cookie, Bucky yanks the box away. “Are you gonna order dinner or stand here and eat all of my cookies?”

Sam throws his hands up in mock surrender and pulls out his cell phone. “Hey. No need to get defensive. Maybe it was just hot in the hallway.” He moves into the living room and flings himself onto the small couch.

Bucky scoffs and looks down at Alpine, who has made himself comfortable at Bucky’s feet. “I wasn’t blushing.” He says quietly to the cat. Alpine just blinks. Bucky pulls a treat out of the small jar and holds it out to him. “You know I wasn’t blushing.”

The next time Bucky sees you, it’s him at your door. He’s got a clean plate in his hand and is decidedly not nervous as he waits for you to answer.

He lifts his hand to knock again when the door swings open. You’re standing in nothing but a sweatshirt and shorts that barely peek out from beneath it. Bucky swallows and forces his eyes up from your legs to your face.

He gives you an apologetic smile when he sees your raised brows. “James.” You smile kindly as you lean against your door frame. “What can I do for you?”

“Bucky.” He says automatically. He holds the plate out and notices your eyes catch on his gloved hands. “Figured you might want this back. I washed it.”

You take the plate from his hands. “Thank you.” Bucky doesn’t move from his spot in the hallway. He’s not really sure why because he’s done what he needed to do. He just wanted to enjoy your presence, he assumes. You had begun to grow on him and your cookies were really good. Or maybe he had always kind of liked you.

“Do you want to come in?” You ask. There’s an inviting smile on your face and he almost says yes. He wants to say yes. But he didn’t want to leave Alpine alone, he had already been gone for most of the day.

Bucky gives you an apologetic smile. “I would… But I don’t want to leave Alpine alone.” You nod with a soft smile and Bucky watches for a moment before taking a step back.

“I’ll just…” He points over shoulder at his door. He turns and starts the short walk to his door.

You laugh quietly. “Have a good night, James.”

“Bucky.” He corrects. He takes a deep breath and turns to face you again. You’re still standing in your doorway watching him amused. “Do you want to… You can come to mine instead?”

Your small smile transforms into something bright and excited as you nod. “That would be great. Let me grab my keys.” You hold a finger up and disappear into your apartment.

As soon as you're out of sight Bucky slumps against the wall. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He thinks. His living room is bare except for the small, shitty couch Sam had persuaded him into buying. That and a lamp on an Ikea side table and his television.

He imagined your living room was much homier. Probably decorated to fit your aesthetic and cozy. What would you think of his place? What did you think? You couldn’t mind it too much if you agreed to come, right?

His nervous train of thought is disrupted when he hears your door slam shut. Bucky watches as you lock your door quickly. “Lead the way!” You look at Bucky with teasing eyes.

Bucky smiles hesitantly as he turns towards his own door. When he opens it, he finds Alpine laying on the back of the couch and he stares confused at Bucky and the new addition to the apartment.

“You remember Alpine.” Bucky says with a small smile as he beckons you further into the apartment. “It’s not much-“

“-It’s nice.” You cut him off. You’ve got a genuine smile on your face and Bucky begins to wonder why he had ever been nervous. You’d always been kind, he couldn’t imagine you having anything rude to say. “Hi, Alpine.” You say quietly as you step cautiously towards the couch.

Bucky watches as Alpine looks up at you equally as cautious. “Nice to see you again. I hope you like the treats.” At the word, Alpine perks up and looks at you intrigued.

Bucky quietly pulls a couple treats out of the jar. He moves as subtly as he can in order to avoid shifting Alpine’s attention. “Here.” He slips a treat into your hand. “See if he comes to you.”

You hold the treat out in front of you and Alpine sniffs the air. You don’t say anything, like you know trying to coax the cat to you might spook him. Alpine seems to appreciate it and moves towards you slowly. He snatches the treat from your hand before dashing away. He disappears down the hallways, but you don’t seem to care because you spin around to face Bucky with a happy smile.

“Did you see that?” You laugh. Bucky swallows and nods. Briefly he thinks you have a beautiful smile before shaking the thought off. You take a seat on his couch and pull your legs up underneath you. “I’ll be his favorite in no time.”

Bucky snorts. “I’m sure.” He says sarcastically. He sits next to you on the couch and moves to hand the remote to you. He lets a small smile be directed at you as he watches you make yourself comfortable in his home. It’s not much, but you seem to fit right in.

When your eyes land on his gloved hands again, he thinks you’re gonna ask for a reasoning behind them. He’d have to come up with a poor excuse, not wanting to share the truth yet. But your eyes move from his hands to his face and you take the remote with a smirk. “You ever seen Legally Blonde?”

And, well. That’s that.

The next time you and Bucky see each other, it’s in passing. He’s going out as you’re coming in. There’s a grease stain on your shirt and your red apron is barely stuffed into your purse.

Bucky hesitates for a moment. “Hey.” He says quietly. You spin around and slam backwards into your door. “Fuck. I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry.” He takes a cautious step towards you. His eyes trail over your face, your eyes are red and he can tell how exhausted you are.

“It’s okay.” You say quietly. You take a few calming breaths. “I was in my head. It was a rough night.”

Bucky leans against the wall next to you. “Wanna talk about it?” He’s grown so used to you just stopping to chat that this tense silence feels wrong. Normally he wouldn’t even have to prompt you, he would listen as you just launch into a story easily.

You trail your eyes over his outfit. “You look like you’re headed out.”

Bucky shrugs and doesn’t move from his spot. “Just a recap then. I have time.” He’s not sure what’s inspired him to do this. But he thinks it has something to do with this newfound fondness to your bright personality. He wants it back.

You take a deep breath and nod. “Come in for a glass of water? Then I’ll let you go.”

Bucky sighs in relief. “Sounds perfect.” He follows you into the apartment. It’s different from his. Bright, like you. You’ve got posters hanging neatly on the wall your tv is against. Plants sitting by your window. A large couch and soft rug. “Nice place.” He comments as he moves to sit on one of your barstools.

You laugh softly. “Thanks.” You drop your purse onto the counter and turn to pull two glasses out of the cupboard. “Where are you headed? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Bucky glances at the time on your stove. “Oh… I help my friend out with meetings at the VA. I was headed to help him set up.”

You slide a glass of water towards him. “You’re a vet?” He takes it with an appreciative smile. “I didn’t…” You shake your head. “Thank you.”

Bucky shakes his head. “I’m not…” He trails off unsure of how to explain his status to you. Did you really not know who he was? “Tonight's topic is you.”

You roll your eyes and lean back against the counter. “Have you ever just had a bad day? Where nothing seems to go right?” Bucky nods and you sigh. “My master’s thesis, I’ve been working on it for months, I got back my draft today from my advisor and he tore it apart. Had a good cry about that. Got called in early to work, I need the money so I said yes. The diner was busy and we were short staffed. To top it off, my last customer of the night was a douche. He hit on me all night. When I told him no to getting my phone number, he threatened to take my tip away.” You laugh bitterly as Bucky sits in silence, listening intently. “And then when I walked away, he tried to grab me. So… Stellar night over all.”

“Want me to kill him?” The words are out of Bucky’s mouth before he can think. He couldn’t imagine being forced to be nice to somebody who was just harassing him all night. In fact, he knows he wouldn’t be. And he knows you certainly didn’t deserve treatment like that.

You let out a shocked laugh that turns into a full blown laughing fit. Bucky lets out an awkward chuckle as he watches you shake.

“That’s…” You trail off and Bucky notices tears gathering in your eyes. “That’s really sweet.” You say wetly.

“Hey.” Bucky stands up and takes a step towards you. He pauses, unsure of what to do, but when you start to shake again, this time with tears, his decision is made. “Hey. You’re okay.”

He pulls you into him and you come easily. You wrap your arms tightly around his waist and rest your head against his chest as you let it out.

Bucky rubs your back and tries his best to calm his rapidly beating heart. He hopes you can’t hear it because he’s sure it would break any kind of aura of nonchalance he had created.

He glances at the time again. He really has to go. The meeting was starting soon and he’s sure Sam is worried about where Bucky is. He pulls back slowly, not wanting to let go.

You look at him with sad eyes. “I’m so sorry. I have to go.” You nod dejectedly and take a step back. You don’t go too far, both of your hands still clinging to his jacket. “Can you watch Alpine?” He rushes the words out and he knows there’s a light blush rising to his cheeks. He just wants to make you feel better and he really does hate leaving his cat alone.

You furrow your brows. “What?”

“I mean.” He takes a hurried step back suddenly aware of you still wrapped in his arms. “I hate leaving him alone. And… You look like you could use some furry company.”

A slow smile spreads across your face. “Are you saying your cat likes me?”

“No.” Bucky laughs. “But you are the only other person he doesn’t completely hate.”

“I would love to watch Alpine.” You take a few rushed steps out of your kitchen. “I’ll change and head over.”

Bucky lets out a relieved breath and nods. “Good. Cool. I mean-“ He shakes his head. “-my spare key is on top of my door. You don’t have to do anything but hang out with him. Don’t expect cuddles though, I’m not sure you’re on that level yet. Don’t give him too many treats.”

You’re nodding like his instructions are even the smallest bit important. “I have to go.” Bucky says ago and takes another step towards the door. “I’ll see you later.”

You nod and take off down your hall. Bucky lingers by your door for a moment.

“Wait!” You yell and come rushing out again. Bucky freezes and turns to look at you. “Thank you…James.” You smile brightly before spinning around again and disappearing.

Bucky smiles to himself as he leaves. The bright was back.

When Bucky gets home he’s more nervous than when he left. His palm is sweaty and all that’s on his mind is Sam’s constant teasing.

Bucky didn’t have a crush. He just… Liked having you around. That didn’t mean he wanted to date you. Maybe he did think you were pretty. And sure when you had let him hug you earlier it had made his heart race.

But it wasn’t a crush. Bucky was too old to have a crush. He takes a deep breath before opening his door. He can hear a movie playing softly before he even looks up.

“Hey.” You say quietly from where you’re laying on his couch. You sit up hastily with an embarrassed smile. Alpine is laying on the chair across from you. “We’re friends!” You point to the sleeping cat.

Bucky nods. “He actually stayed in the same room as you all night?” He asks doubtfully.

You frown, but there’s a mischievous sparkle in your eyes. “Maybe not all night. But he came out like an hour ago. I think he gave up on waiting for me to leave.”

You pat the spot next to you on the couch and Bucky moves as quietly as he can. “How was your night? Do you feel better?” He looks you over. You looked less tired and from the blankets piled on his couch it looks like you had taken a nap.

You nod. “A lot better… Thank you. I really appreciate you letting me hang out with your cat.” You look up at him with a nervous smile. “He’s just like you. You two were made for each other.”

Bucky glances at Alpine. “What does that mean?”

You poke Bucky’s leg with your socked foot. “Hard exterior, secretly wants to be best buds with me.”

Bucky snorts and gently shoves your foot away. “My secret plan has been outed. Make the girl from 4B my best friend.” You laugh and move to tuck your feet under his leg. It’s silent for a moment, and Bucky knows you’re watching him so he busies himself with watching Alpine.

“Hey…” You trail off waiting for Bucky to turn his attention to you. “I don’t want to upset you or anything.”

“That’s always a good start.” Bucky says nervously as he focuses on you. Your hands are fidgeting in your lap as you watch him. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head quickly. “Nothing’s wrong! I just… Promise you won’t be upset with me?” Your eyes are pleading and Bucky can feel himself get anxious. What could you be so nervous about?

“What’s wrong?” He asks quietly. You don’t say anything, so Bucky swallows hard. “I promise.” He nods slowly.

“Okay.” You take a deep breath. Bucky watches your eyes shift around the room before landing on his hands clenched together in his lap. “I thought I recognized you. Like, your name is so familiar and then when I saw you with Captain America…”

Bucky looks down at his hands and nods. He knew where this was going. “I…” He trails off.

“I looked you up.” You rush the words out. Your voice is small and Bucky feels any hopes he had for this friendship shatter around him.

“I don’t… I’m not any of those things anymore.” Bucky cringes. His leg is shaking anxiously, but he just can’t get it to stop. He can’t even get himself to look up from his gloved hands, didn’t want to see the fear or disbelief that would be painted across your face.

Your toes poke at his thigh again and it forces Bucky to look over at you. Your eyebrows are furrowed as you watch him, but there’s no trace of fear or anger, you wear the same kind smile that you always did.

“I know that.” You whisper softly. Your eyes move past him and Bucky follows your line of vision to Alpine, whose bright eyes are staring at him. Bucky smiles gently at the cat as he stretches out and hops off the chair. Alpine rubs against Bucky’s shins, a welcome distraction from the impending conversation. Your feet curve upward to poke Bucky in the leg again. He looks up hastily at the gesture. “When I asked if you were a vet earlier, why did you say no?”

Bucky purses his lips to think. The truth was he wasn’t at all sure how to explain everything to you. He didn’t have to explain things to Sam or Steve, they knew. “My war was a long time ago.” He settles on saying.

“That doesn’t make you any less a veteran.” You say firmly. “And there’s not much online about the Winter Soldier-“ There’s ringing in Bucky’s ears as the words come out of your mouth. What had you found? And what were you thinking?

“Hey.” You lean over and place a gentle hand on his shoulder. “There’s not much online, but I didn’t read what there was because I knew that it was your story to tell me. When you’re ready.”

Bucky inhales sharply as you look at him with curious eyes. “I… I did a lot of bad things. I… I worked on making amends and I… I was pardoned.” He pleads with you like he’s sure you’ll walk out if you know everything.

“Okay.” The word is quiet and your hand is still resting on his shoulder. “You don’t have to tell me anything. I just wanted you to know that I’m your friend. Even with your super cool secret identity.”

Bucky laughs at that. “It’s not a secret if you use your real name.”

“Ah! You agree? We’re friends?” You say with a smirk. “Does that mean I get to see the super cool metal arm that’s always been covered around me?”

Bucky shakes his head, but laughs. “Not yet.” You’re watching him carefully so he gives you a small smile. “I would say we’re friends though, yeah.”

Suddenly, you’re always there.

When Bucky has missions with Sam, you check in on Alpine for him. His spare key has moved from above his door to your keychain.

You’ll come over with treats when he gets home from the VA. (Bucky likes to think you check for him when you hear the heavy footsteps in the hall and that’s why you’re always there right after he gets home.)

He’ll bring dishes back whenever he sees you get home. (He does check the peephole when he hears footsteps.)

You send him pictures of Alpine when he’s away. Alpine who still won't cuddle with you or even touch you, but who lays in the same room and has recently started allowing short pets. He sends you pictures of Sam and cities they’re in.

And tonight, while he’s in New York, you’ve sent him a picture of you in his bathroom mirror with Alpine sitting pretty on the counter.

He’s not supposed to be up there.

All he gets is another picture in return, this time you have a thumbs up and Alpine is still on the counter. Bucky smiles. Sam notices.

“Your girlfriend texting you?” He teases.

Bucky scoffs. “She’s not my girlfriend… She just watches Alpine for me sometimes.” He looks back down at his phone. Nice. He sends back before stuffing it into his pocket and looking back at the man.

Sam nods slowly. “Right. She just watches Alpine sometimes. And hangs out with you when she’s free. Don’t forget the treats she makes you and Alpine.” Sam lists off casually as he looks down at his fingernails.

Bucky feels an embarrassed heat crawl up the back of his neck and looks down at his feet. “We’re friends. She’s a good friend.”

When he looks up, Sam doesn’t have a teasing smile, but instead a genuinely happy one. Bucky thinks that this one is somehow worse when Sam grips his shoulder firmly. “I’m glad you have such a good friend, Bucky. Someone outside this super hero business.”

Bucky nods and swallows the lump in his throat. “Yeah. Thanks, Sam.”

“I’m serious, Bucky. You deserve it.”

Bucky gives him a grateful smile unable to say anything else.

Bucky creeps into his apartment at four in the morning. It’s quiet, like usual, but Alpine isn’t sitting on the couch like he normally does when Bucky isn’t home.

“Al?” He calls out quietly. The logical part of him is aware that Alpine may have fallen asleep in his bedroom, or underneath a piece of furniture. But there’s another part of him that panics at the routine being broken.

Alpine was always there to greet him.

Bucky would rather be safe than sorry. “Al.” He whispers again, already reaching for the knife strapped to his ankle. He bends slowly and lifts his pant leg as he scans his eyes under the couch and coffee table in search of the cat.

He stands with the knife in his hand and moves slowly down his hallway. His bedroom door is ajar, Bucky takes a deep breath before pushing it open all the way. Alpine blinks at him from the edge of his bed. The knife slips from Bucky’s hand as he stands, shocked in the doorway. You’re asleep. Asleep on the bed that he never used.

The knife clattering against the ground stirs you from your sleep and your eyes widen when you notice Bucky standing there.

“Hey!” Your voice is raspy and low. You rub your eyes and Bucky can only stare at your half-asleep form. “I… I thought you were going to be gone until tomorrow night.”

He nods. “Yeah. I mean, we got things done sooner than expected.” He explains. You lean over to flicker the light next to you on. Bucky doesn’t recognize the pillow sitting behind you or the blanket that’s thrown over your legs, he thinks you’ve brought them over from your apartment. You must have because his pillow and blanket was sitting folded in his linen closet waiting for the next time he camped out on the floor or the couch.

You smile apologetically. “I’m sorry. I… I got tired of falling asleep on the couch.” You whisper. “And Alpine lays with me on the bed.”

Bucky hastily shakes his head. “No! It’s fine. You don’t have to apologize. I should’ve told you to sleep in the bed. I didn’t even think of it.” I don’t really sleep in the bed. He moves further into the room.

You scratch nervously at your cheek before freezing in action. He almost laughs at the annoyance that crosses your face. You had mentioned once that touching your face was a bad habit you had been trying to break for months. “I should go.”

“You don’t have to.” Bucky opens his dresser drawer in search of sweatpants. “Stay here. You’ve already got yourself set up. I’ll crash on the couch.”

You push the blanket off of your legs and Bucky has to force his eyes to stay on yours when he notices the already short shorts you’re wearing have ridden up your thighs from sleeping. “I can’t make you sleep on the couch, James. I’ll go!”

“You know it’s Bucky.” He stops you with a hand on your shoulder. “It’s fine.” He stresses. “I… I don’t really sleep in the bed anyways. The couch is better.”

Your eyes narrow. “You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.” He can tell you’re hesitant, but your rushed movements have paused. “My apartment is across the hall! I feel awful for invading your space like this already.”

Bucky sits on the edge of the bed and watches curiously as you shift to sit next to him. Both your legs are dangling off, almost brushing his, and Bucky feels warmer than he had all week. “Doll, I’m serious. Beds are weird for me. I haven’t had one in so long that sometimes they’re just too overwhelming for me to sleep in.”

He almost jumps when your head rests against his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t think of that.”

“It’s good to see somebody getting good use out of this bed.” He leans into you slightly. “My ma would have thrown a fit if she saw how much this bed was. 800 dollars for a mattress... 800 dollars back then is like, thousands now.”

You laugh softly. Bucky glances down again. Your eyes are closed and he thinks you’re almost asleep until you talk. “Do you… Would someone being there help you sleep in the bed?”

You don’t open your eyes and Bucky’s almost glad for that because he can’t look away from you. “I… I don’t know. It’s only been Al and I.” His eyes follow the rise and fall of your chest as you breathe slow and calm.

You finally look up. “You should stay with me. The couch isn’t comfortable to sleep on, I would know.” You elbow his stomach gently.

He nods before he can even think about it. “If… If you’re comfortable with it.” He whispers.

“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t. I promise.” You move away from him and Bucky already misses the warmth you radiate. “I’ll let you change.”

He leans against the bathroom door as soon as it’s shut behind him. “It’s okay.” He mumbles to himself. His nightmares had been getting better, but that didn’t mean they were gone entirely.

They probably never would be. And he knew he couldn’t let himself be afraid of the bed for the rest of his life. He had bought the bed. He just hadn’t expected his attempt at getting over the anxiety to be with you.

Why had he said yes? He thinks as he shakily slips his jacket off. He looks at himself in the mirror and sighs. It was a good question, why had he said yes?

He slips into his sweatpants and just stands in the bathroom. He couldn’t change his mind now.

Well, he could. He knew you would give him a kind smile and reassure him that he didn’t have to do anything he didn’t want to. You were just that person. Kind and understanding and holding no judgement.

“Okay.” He takes a deep breath. “Okay.” He shakes his shoulders out and picks up his discarded clothes. He stops at the linen closet and pulls out his blanket and pillow.

You’re already wrapped up in your blanket again when Bucky comes back into the room. Alpine has moved to lay the floor in front of his bed. You smile sleepily at Bucky. He feels himself smile back. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

(When his eyes crack open the next morning he finds Alpine curled at his feet and you curled into his side, he knows being with you wouldn’t be bad. It’s the first time he lets himself think maybe this really is a crush.)

So, Bucky has a crush. Which is a little ridiculous because he’s over a century old and having a crush is so high school, but it’s there. When you smile in the hall and butterflies rush through his stomach or when his chest warms at a picture you’ve sent of you and Alpine. It’s so obviously there.

“What are you staring at?” Your voice shakes him when he realizes he’s been staring at you this entire time. You’re sitting next to him on the couch, so close your legs are touching. “Do I have something on my face?” You reach a hand up to your cheek.

Bucky shakes his head hastily. “No. Sorry, I was just lost in my thoughts.”

“Penny?” You ask softly and Bucky furrows his brows in confusion. “Penny for your thoughts.” You clarify quickly.

He thinks the smile that appears on your face is bashful and it makes Bucky feel just a little more confident. Maybe he made you as nervous as you made him.

“You’re really pretty.” He says suddenly. Your eyes widen and you look away nervously. A hand scratches at the back of your neck and Bucky bites down on his lip as he watches you. Not exactly how he hoped that would go. “I mean… I was just looking at… how pretty you were.” He cringes at the words as they come out of his mouth.

He used to be so much smoother than this, he thinks. He remembered having a new girl on his arm every week and a friend of theirs for Steve.

Alpine meows loudly and Bucky just knows the cat is laughing at him. “Thank you.” You finally say quietly. “I… I didn’t think you thought that about me.”

“‘Course I do.” He says equally as quietly. “Always thought you were pretty.” He glances at you and smirks, “Even when I thought you were weird too.”

You gasp and turn to look at him. “You thought I was weird?”

Bucky laughs and nods. “After you came in the middle of the night for salt? A little. And the fact that you keep calling me James when I’ve told you it’s Bucky.” He raises an eyebrow.

You smile brightly. “You introduced yourself as James. Why would I call you anything else?”

Bucky presses his tongue to his cheek as he tries not to laugh. “Yeah. I’ve regretted that every day since. Nobody’s called me James since the forties.”

You scoff. “I find that hard to believe.”

Bucky looks away. “Well for decades I was referred to as soldat.” He glances down at his hands. He’d stop wearing his gloves around you after you’d spent the night, even told you a little of his story the next morning.

Sam thinks your relationship is weird. You spend the night sometimes and both of you find time to spend together when you can. It’s like you’re dating, but Bucky knows it’s not really like that. He thinks you both bring a sense of calm to one another.

He’s not sure how to shift that, or if you would even want to, into a relationship. He glances back at you with a tense smile. “Steve always called me Buck. Sam calls me Bucky. Last person to call me James was probably my mother.”

“I’m sorry… I never meant to-'' You take a deep breath like you’re preparing yourself for what you're going to say next.

Bucky shakes his head. “It’s fine. I’m not trying to make you feel bad, I was just pointing it out.” He tries to smile reassuringly.

“I was just trying to flirt.” You say so quickly the words sound jumbled together.

It takes him a moment to comprehend what you’ve said. “With me?” He points to himself. The words make his confidence rise exponentially. “You were trying to flirt with me?”

“With you.” You confirm with a slow nod. You start laughing, but it’s soft and happy. “Of course I was! I wanted you to remember me! How could I do that if I called you what everybody else does?”

“I don’t know. Anything else?” He laughs along with you. “I…” He shakes his head with a smile.

You both settle and Bucky hears you inhale sharply. “The salt to come see you and talk, the cookies and treats for Alpine… I’ve had this huge crush on you since you moved in.” You say softly.

Bucky nods, he could see it now. Then he starts laughing again. He feels you smack his shoulder. “I’m sorry… You… Sam said that those cookies and treats were you trying to get me and Alpine to like you.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Keen eye. He saw I was flirting.” You tease gently. “Does it… Does it bother you? Or change anything? The fact that I was flirting?” You ask softly and full of nerves.

Bucky smiles sweetly. “That depends. Do you still want to flirt with me?”

You narrow your eyes, but nod. “I don’t ask just any boy to sleep in the same bed as me.”

“Just me and Alpine?” Bucky nudges your knee with his. You nod softly and he inhales a deep, nervous breath. “It worked.” He says quietly.

You nudge his knee back. “It did?”

He turns to look at you again. You’re already looking up at him with hopeful eyes and Bucky feels his heart race. “Yeah. I like you a lot. I don’t... I haven’t felt this way in a long time.”

A smile breaks out on your face. “I like you a lot too.” You whisper, like you’re afraid anything louder will break the moment.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispers back. You nod excitedly and lean towards him. Bucky places a gentle hand on your cheek as shuts his eyes and leans in.

His chest warms when your lips press against his tentatively, like you’re both still nervous it’s not real. Your lips are soft and Bucky knows his own are chapped, but he feels you smile against him and can’t stop his own smile from overtaking his face.

You pull away, but you’re still close enough that your lips are brushing against his. He’s caught up in the moment staring at you when he feels something rub against his shin.

It makes you pull apart. Alpine is rubbing himself against both your legs and purring softly. Bucky presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Think you won both of us over.”

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

notes // what do you do when your midterm is an essay & gave you a headache? write bucky barnes fanfiction. thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed it. ps i’ve seen some spelling mistakes promise to edit those in the morning!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes imagine #cupidswritings

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rnelodyy · 3 years ago

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c!Dream and the rules

(/dsmp /rp, all names refer to characters, not content creators)

I think one of the most striking parts of Exile is something that I rarely see talked about, and it’s Dream’s rules. Or rather, how his rules were made to be used as justification to hurt Tommy.

The thing about exile is that, outside of the initial rule of “Don’t go back to L’Manburg”, Dream never told Tommy the rules, yet constantly operated under the assumption that Tommy already knew them, and had accepted them. The rules also changed constantly, without Tommy ever being notified until he was already in trouble.

The second time Dream told Tommy to put his armor in the hole, he didn’t tell Tommy to do that right away. Instead, the conversation went like this (slightly edited to remove stammering and unrelated dialogue).

Dream: Do you have, uh… something you wanna put on the floor here? Tommy: Yes. (drops two pieces of red concrete as Dream digs a hole) Dre-eam! You’re evil. You’re evil. Dream: Anything else, Tommy? Tommy: Nope! Dream: Oh c’mon, I know there’s something else you wanna drop down here. Tommy: (panicking slightly) No, there… (messages BBH “take this and run”, throws him the disc BBH had gifted him earlier) Um… I don’t reckon there is! (pause) Dream: Okay, are you suuuure? Tommy: YES. Dream: Alright… How ‘bout your armor, Tommy? Tommy: Well, no, this is- I actually earned this myself. Dream: I know you did! Tommy: Leave me alone. Dream: Just drop it in the hole, Tommy. Tommy: Wh- no, NO, you can’t just come and demand things from me! I’ve been exiled, I’ve done your shit, what do you mean?! Dream: (sing-song) Tommy… Tommy: What? (Dream hits Tommy with his axe, taking over half his health) Tommy: (screams, drops his armor) OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY!

The only rule Tommy was aware of at this time was that he wasn’t allowed to go back to L’Manburg. Dream had taken his armor the night before, but there was no indication that he expected Tommy to do this constantly. Taking his armor upon initially arriving at Logstedshire made some kind of sense, allowing Tommy to keep it would run the risk of him trying to fight his way back into L’Manburg. Taking his new, very shitty armor (seriously it was an iron chestplate and a pair of golden leggings he got from a ruined portal chest) made no sense at all, so the fact that Tommy was confused and refused to cooperate at first isn’t unexpected in the slightest.

And the thing is… Dream was aware of this fact. Throughout the conversation, he never really sounded annoyed, and was actively teasing Tommy at times. This isn’t a good thing btw, it’s a sign that he was fully aware that Tommy didn’t know what he wanted from him, and that that would create a situation where Dream could “put him in his place” as it were.

If you’re a parent, and your kid does something that’s not allowed, without knowing it’s not allowed, you don’t start off with a beating. You sit them down, calmly explain the rules to them and explain why those rules are there, then send them on their way with the knowledge that they shouldn't do it again.

This interaction wasn’t an instance of Tommy acting out and Dream correcting him. This interaction was a trap. Dream set Tommy up to fail by not telling him the rules beforehand, and when Tommy offered even the slightest bit of resistance and asked why he needed to drop his armor, Dream jumped straight to beating him. It’s a powerplay, plain and simple.

This is demonstrated again with the destruction of Logstedshire. Dream got pissed that Tommy disobeyed him by having hidden chests with gear under his house, and retaliated by destroying everything Tommy had built, destroying every item he’d collected, killing his pet and only foodsource, barring him from the Nether, banning everyone except himself from visiting, and telling him to start over from scratch after a whole lecture about how Tommy betrayed him.

Again, I wanna point out some specific lines from this lecture that illustrate my point very well.

Dream: You were lying to me! You were lying to me. Tommy: No- Why was I lying?! Dream: What do you mean, why were you lying?! Tommy: I wasn’t hi- I wasn’t- Dream: You hid things in a chest knowing they were things I wouldn’t want you to have! And you hid it in a way that way I would never find it!

Except Tommy didn’t know that. The contents of the stash were all items that Tommy had obtained previously without any issue (diamonds, emeralds, iron, ender pearls, some pickaxes, and some purely sentimental items like flowers, a jukebox, and pictures of Tubbo and L’Manburg). In fact, the vast majority of them came from Tommy’s aboveground storage, which Dream had full access to, and had looked through before!

Dream also never said Tommy wasn’t allowed to hide stuff, and there was nothing to suggest he didn’t want Tommy to keep secrets from him.

There’s been a theory floating around for a while that Dream knew about Tommy’s item stash beforehand, since it was a very strange place to dig a hole (like, right in front of the house in the center of Logstedshire itself, instead of out in the plains where the TNT wouldn’t damage any structures), and Tommy had previously forgotten to cover up the entrance ladder. While Dream hadn’t looked inside the house, he would’ve definitely heard Tommy place the block back.

If this theory is correct, then this was yet another trap. Dream knew Tommy had a hidden room, and instead of just saying “hey, I don’t want you to have a hidden stash, go put this back and fill in the room” (which would’ve still been bullshit btw), he went COMPLETELY ballistic, destroyed EVERYTHING Tommy had, and while doing it, kept admonishing Tommy for betraying him, said shit like “I thought we were friends”, and even accused him of preparing to attack Dream. Again, a powerplay.

Hell, even the exile conflict itself is this! Tommy was exiled for griefing the king’s property while being a high-ranking official in L’Manburg. Except Fundy, the then-president’s son, CONSTANTLY griefed Eret’s shit after the L’Manburg war, ranging from ripping down one of their towers to “shrink” it, filling another tower with water, and multiple elaborate plots to steal the throne from under their nose. But apparently, between all of that shit and the exile-conflict, the rules were silently changed, meaning Dream could exile Tommy for breaking a couple blocks and placing some rude signs in George’s house. Even the punishment itself was changed without warning, as Tommy went from being exiled from L’Manburg to exiled from “everywhere that’s ever been touched.”

...I was originally gonna make a different point here. I may put it in the reblogs, because I still think it’s very interesting. But, in the middle of writing this essay I had to stop because it was late, then I spent the entire next day packing up because I’m in the middle of a move. It's now the next evening, I'm sat in my new room, on my camping bed, I opened this doc because I pretty much forgot what I typed, I reread it, and then I realized… This isn’t an isolated series of events. This is a pattern for Dream.

Before Tommy first joined the server, there were only three set rules: no stealing, no griefing, and no killing people. Except by that point, those rules weren’t enforced at all. In fact, Dream broke all three at once at one point, by killing George and burning his diamond armor because he didn’t feel it was fair that George got to run around in full diamond when everyone else still had iron.

Tommy joined the server, and broke the rules like everyone else. He stole shit, broke shit, killed George for funsies… and he got exiled for it. Seriously, they dumped him in an empty snowfield for breaking rules that nobody had enforced for weeks. So technically, the Exile-arc isn’t even the first time something like this has happened to him!

During the events that would eventually spark the Disc War, Sapnap stole a bunch of Tommy’s items (including the only Netherite chestplate on the server at the time), and told him he’d only give the stuff back if Tommy helped him with a conflict he had with Ponk. Long story short, Dream tried to intervene and was killed by Tommy and Sapnap, and Dream stole Tommy’s discs to force him to apologize. He then kept the discs, and the Disc War followed. Sapnap, despite being the aggressor and arguably forcing Tommy to participate in the conflict, was never punished.

This proves not only that the rules can change whenever Dream feels like it, but that they’re arbitrarily enforced. Dream refuses to punish his friends for the same crimes he endlessly fucks over Tommy for.

L’Manburg was created in part because of the fact that the rules were unevenly enforced. Tommy, Wilbur, and later Tubbo were repeatedly killed, stolen from, imprisoned, and even held hostage for very minor crimes, while the people killing, imprisoning, kidnapping and stealing from them were able to do so without impunity.

This was also the point where Dream just started making up new rules; there was no rule against having governments on the server, or making a separate area where Dream’s rules wouldn’t apply, so Dream banned governments, and used this new rule as an excuse to kill them, take their items, and tear their land to shreds.

And that’s another thing: the punishments for breaking Dream’s rules are INCREDIBLY harsh.

Kill him non-canonically one time? Your most prized possessions will now be dangled over your head and used to hurt you for the next few months.

Make a country with different laws that doesn’t infringe on anyone’s territory, has no desire to expand, is explicitly pacifistic and open to trade negotiations? You’ll be forced to fight a war you’re in no way equipped to fight, you’ll be betrayed and murdered and have your land destroyed in front of your very eyes until you literally have no choice but to surrender.

Mildly vandalize the king’s house, which nobody else has ever been punished for? You’ll be dragged into court, exiled from your home, and subjected to weeks of abuse until you believe that all of your friends hate you and you actively want to kill yourself.

Hide some stuff in a secret chest? Your only shelter will be exploded, your pet/only food source will be killed, all your items will be destroyed, you’ll be banned from the Nether, and none of your friends will be allowed to come see you.

This is all such disproportionate retribution it’s ridiculous. It’s like punishing someone for speeding by blowing up their car with a ballistic missile.

So to sum up: Dream’s rules are arbitrarily enforced, and he can just straight up make them up on the spot if he feels like it. Sometimes, he won’t tell you a rule exists until you’ve already broken it, and you’re treated as if you broke it out of malice instead of genuine ignorance. And if you do break a rule, and he decides you have to be punished, it will always be a punishment so harsh it doesn’t even ATTEMPT to fit the crime.

I don’t know about you, but that sounds pretty fucking corrupt and tyrannical to me.

When people say Tommy deserved exile, or made Dream spiral into villainy, or abused Dream somehow (seriously I’ve seen this take multiple times and every time it makes my brain melt) by breaking the rules, I would invite them to take a step back and ask themselves, why did that rule exist? Did Tommy know it existed? Was it enforced for everyone other than him as well? Does the punishment fit the crime?

Dream has a bad habit of making up rules, or enforcing old ones that were never enforced before, to punish those who threaten his power. None of the Dream Team were ever punished for anything, despite committing the same crimes as the L’Manburgians. That is, until they founded Mexican L’Manburg (i.e. went against Dream’s rule), at which point they were attacked by Dream and George was dethroned for “not being neutral enough.”

Tommy should’ve faced consequences for what he did. But those consequences should’ve come naturally, and been carried out by the people he hurt. Like, if Dream hadn’t intervened, griefing George’s house would’ve resulted in George griefing Tommy back in revenge. In fact, he DID do that, by turning Tommy’s entire house into granite and putting the Jump In The Cadillac picture on his front lawn.

These are natural, proportionate consequences. Exile was none of that. The Disc War was none of that. Everything that happened to L’Manburg was none of that.

Dream’s rules and how he enforces them are inherently corrupt and tyrannical. To pretend it’s anything but is disingenuous at best.

#dream smp #dsmp #dsmp analysis #c!dream #c!tommy #tommyinnit #dreamwastaken #i had a COMPLETELY different point that i wanted to make but then i thought about it and went w a i t #uhhh if you wanna hear my original point lemme know i guess #anyway c!dream is such an interesting character! i hate him!#little green bastard man #c!dream critical

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spencersweetie · 3 years ago

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Go Ahead (Spencer Reid x AFAB!Reader) 18+ ONLY

Summary: Reader accidentally interrupts Spencer’s “alone time”.

Category: smut

Warnings: masturbation, some voyeurism, oral sex (reader receiving), some cum ingestion, soft sub spencer

Word count: 1.1k

A/N: got a fluffy ending for this one it’s quite sappy so I apologize if you’re not into the lovey dovey stuff bc oopsie I’m a whore for all that

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“Spence?” You called out as you closed the door to the apartment behind you. “I’m home!” You set your purse down and kicked your shoes off.

“Hi Y/N, I’m coming! Just give me a second.” Spencer’s voice came muffled from the bedroom.

You hurried to find him, hearing him shuffle around the room as you approached the door. You greeted a partially clothed Spencer, hair ruffled and shirt barely buttoned.

“Hi baby.” Your eyes traveled down to his crotch, still hard as he pulled his trousers on. “Did I interrupt you? I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” You pecked him on the lips and held his hands as he stood before you, not yet properly dressed. His belt hung unbuckled and his shirt remained buttoned only halfway.

Spencer sweetly smiled and pulled you in to kiss your forehead. “No, it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize. I’m just glad you’re home early today.”

“Well, did you finish?” You prodded.

Spencer’s eyes darted to the floor as he grinned sheepishly. “I mean, no. But it’s not a big deal. Are you hungry? We can go out to dinner if you want to.”

“No, wait.” You stopped him. “You didn’t get to cum?” You peered up at him, watching for the sparkle in his eyes as his anticipation grew. He was like an eager puppy, waiting for your commands and instructions.

“I didn’t.” He grew shy at having to confirm it again. “It’s okay, really.”

“Do you want to resume?” You placed your hands on his chest, fingers fiddling at the buttons.

Spencer nodded, stroking your wrists as you started to undo his shirt. “Are you sure you’re fine with that?”

You let out a soft laugh. “Of course, darling. Can’t you tell how much I want to see you finish?” You took his shirt off and undid his pants. You slid his boxers down and sat him on the edge of the bed. He maintained eye contact with you as you silently undressed yourself before him.

“Will you be good and let me watch while you touch yourself?” You asked.

“Me? I- yeah! Yes!” Spencer agreed. He sighed and slowly stroked himself, eyes locked on yours.

“You’re beautiful, do you know that?” You stepped forward and stood between his legs as he continued. You held his chin and gently kissed his lips, grinning as he whimpered when you pulled away.

“I’m not nearly as perfect as you.” Spencer whined as he picked up his speed. “Nobody compares to you.”

You knelt before him and inserted two fingers into your mouth, then slowly pulled them out. Spencer threw his head back, groaning at the sight of you sitting below him. You rubbed your clit, gently drawing circles on yourself while your other hand caressed Spencer just under his cock.

“Y/N!” He cried out. His breathing quickened, breaths becoming shorter and shorter. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” He looked down at you in search of approval.

“Go ahead, Spencer.” You moaned as your own fingers increased pressure on your sensitive spot. “Cum on me.”

Spencer groaned, hardly allowing for you to finish your sentence as his release spouted out onto your neck and chest. As he slowed, you wiped the liquid off your skin and tasted his cum on your fingers, warm and salty. Still lightly panting, Spencer pulled you up and into his lap. He kissed your breasts, closing his eyes to savor the flavor of his own semen on your skin. You sighed into him, grabbing his curls as he buried his head into your chest. He licked your nipple and peeked up at you, smiling.

“Sit here. It’s your turn.”

You raised an eyebrow. “My turn? This is about you, honey.”

Spencer slid out from under you and placed you on the spot where he previously sat. “Well, I did already cum, so uh, mission accomplished? But I don’t want you to have been the only one on your knees today.” He spread your legs and positioned himself just as you had done so minutes before. He planted a kiss just below your belly button and made his way down to your arousal, softly sucking on you. His eyes rolled back and a moan grew from his throat, creating vibrations that traveled from his lips to yours. You ran your fingers through his hair, admiring the sight of him beneath you, eyes closed as he experienced you, like he was in heaven.

Your hand moved down his face. You lifted his head up by the chin, giving him a brief break. He beamed at you, eyes shining like the sun.

“You’re gorgeous, especially at this angle.” You cooed. “You’re just the prettiest.”

Spencer’s ears grew pink as he shifted his weight, left to right. “You are too. I love you the most.” He spoke, almost a whisper. He licked your slit, up and down, before returning to your clit.

“I love you too Spencer.” You leaned back with your elbows on the bed. “You’re the best- oh my god.” You exhaled shakily. “Please don’t stop, baby.”

Spencer swirled his tongue around you, maintaining a steady pace. He caressed your thighs, tracing circles with his thumbs. You sat straight to look at him and he whimpered as you made eye contact.

You held your breasts as Spencer increased speed, persisting on your pussy. “I’m so close, Spencer, fuck!” You whined. He forced your legs apart as you squirmed around him, grabbing at him and wailing his name. You continued to sputter, quivering and twitching as you came on Spencer. His mouth lingered on your folds, lips still wandering around your parts, soaked in your juices.

“C’mere.” You murmured.

Spencer stood, towering over you. He lovingly tucked a strand of hair behind your ears and stroked your face. You pulled him by the waist; he fell into the bed beside you. His eyes flickered in multiple directions as he soaked in every detail of your face. He had memorized all of your features long ago, but picturing your face in his mind was never the same as gazing at you in person.

“I’ve missed you. A lot.” He whispered. He kissed your hand, still refusing to take his eyes off of you.

“I’ve missed you too.” You sighed. Even though yours and Spencer’s schedule hadn’t recently changed, you still missed being with him physically and intimately.

“Will you lay with me?” Spencer lightly yawned. “We haven’t napped together in a while.”

“Of course, baby.” You scooted backwards on the sheets. “Come.”

He crawled in next to you, instinctively curling up into your body. The two of you fit together like puzzle pieces, a perfect match. You kissed his shoulder and peeked at him. His eyes were already closed, lashes almost touching his cheeks. His breathing evened as he dozed off, content and at peace in your arms.

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Hi friends I hope you liked this <33 Likes, reblogs, comments are always appreciated! If you want to leave feedback in my inbox that’s cool too. Thank you for reading, I love you <33

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blueprint-han · 4 years ago

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[Image ID: A black picture with the title “HOW TO SUPPORT FANFICTION AUTHORS” written in bold caps lock, colored with a winter forest picture. End ID.]

Well, this post has been made countless times, but I’m making one too because I’ve seen a lot of people say they’re new to tumblr and don’t know the whole “reblogging is better than liking” rule and other stuff. So without any further ado, here are ways YOU can support the fanfiction authors. Now keep in mind this applies to almost every author out there, not just the stayblr fandom, so if you’re a silent reader (or even if you aren’t), I advise you go through this post. Warning, this is a fairly long post going into detail, so yeah. I still expect you, the readers to read this, and if you’re a writer, feel free to lmk if i’ve written smth wrong or if you want me to add something! ^^

In this post I’ll go into thorough analysis of the pros and cons of each of the methods listed here and how YOU as a reader can show the authors whose fics you read more love and motivate them to produce content.

WARNING; LONG POST! GOES INTO A DECENT AMOUNT OF DETAIL. NOT EDITED, EXCUSE ANY TYPOS.

#1 : LIKING !

I think this is basic common knowledge, and a lot of people tend to do this. When you like the post, the author sees it, you see it, and if the author has their liked posts accessible (which majority of the time they don’t), and if someone deliberately goes to check it, then they see it. See why so many authors say just liking does nothing? Only liking says “Hey, I’m gonna tell you your story is not that good by simply liking it and not sharing it with other people. :D”

♯ PROS:

You’re telling the author that you've read their fic, and either you’ve enjoyed it to a certain extent, or you’re just saving it to read for later.

Likes are seen by you, the author and anyone who has access to your likes (which, most people don’t).

♯ CONS:

If you ONLY like, you’re not really helping the author’s work reach a wide audience because this site isn’t Instagram. Reblogging is the only way people can SEE our works. I’ll cover more on that in the next section.

In a nutshell, liking is good! But you should most likely use it in a combination with the other stuff I’ve listed below, because just the like itself doesn’t really do much in giving the author any feedback or interaction on their fics.

To clear shit up; I’m not talking about those people who don’t read the story or appreciate it in the first place. I’m talking about those who appreciate the fic, like it, but don’t leave any sort of feedback to show that.

#2 : REBLOGGING !

This is SO, SO important. I cannot stress on this enough. Let me explain WHY so many writers stress on reblogging content:

Tumblr’s tag system is inherently fucked up, and has grown more so over the year. I’m not kidding, at first, the fic either used to show up in the tags or it didn’t, but now, sometimes your fic can be REMOVED from the tags because of,,, idk tumblr tag shit. Anyways, as you can see, it’s very demotivating for authors at that point, because the major way for people to find their content and expand their blogs has been blocked.

Due to this reason, tumblr authors need to RELY on you, their followers to help spread their works to a wider audience. Now again, before you get me wrong, I’m not saying you ae forced to rb our works regardless of whether you like them or not. BUT, that being said, if you DO infact like the story, there’s no harm in reblogging, right? By doing this you’re indirectly telling the author — “hey! :D I liked your fic! Which is why I am gonna share it to my followers so they can read it too :D” Trust me, you’re doing nothing but helping the people who produce content for you to read. Seems like a worthy cause to hit the reblog button, right? It’s only a one, or maximum two step procedure.

Leave tags in your reblogs! Trust me, as an author myself and as much as I know from all my author friends, we oft check the tags of your reblogs to see if you found any part amazing or even if you have anything to say about the writing we put so much hard work into. Even a key smash or a “This was so [insert adjective] 🥺” is enough to leave a smile on your authors face.

♯ PROS :

You’re !! Sharing !! Your authors !! Works !! This leads to them getting more recognition, so for the content they’re so graciously providing for free, you’re promoting their blog and helping them expand it.

If the tags are being a shit, which majority of the time they are, then you’re literally making an author’s day by reblogging! You’re showing them that you, a follower and appreciator of their works are willingly sharing their content because it deserves to be seen by more people. Again before any dumb people decide to attack me, i am talking about people who like the fic but don't bother reblogging and are silent/ghost readers. I am not forcing anyone to read anybody’s work.

YOU’RE MAKING YOUR AUTHOR SO HAPPY WHAT MORE REASONS COULD YOU POSSIBLY WANT !! 🥺

♯ CONS :

Literally none, because as far as I remember no author is against reblogging of their works. It’s quite literally the way this platform functions. Reblogging is IMPORTANT.

#3 : COMMENTING/SENDING FEEDBACK !

This kind of overlaps with the previous section, but THIS IS SUCH AN IMPORTANT STEP !! When you leave feedback, you are directly giving the author something so much more valuable to them than high follower/note counts or money. Your feedback is literally our serotonin. I kid you not the number of times I’ve received a positive comment and smiled and it has made my day. There’s a reason youtubers (though not the best example, bear with me here because it was the only one I could think of) ask people to subscribe, like and COMMENT. The subscription is like a follow, the like is ofc like a heart, and the comment is equivalent to an rb with comments in the tags.

You might argue and tell me that a comment is basically like an ask so the reblogging step isn’t necessary, but I’m sure 99% of you use YouTube and you know that more comments leads to people’s videos boosted in the stream/trending charts. This is what reblogging does. Reblogging shares the piece with other people like minded, which leads to a boost in reads. You are literally helping your author grow.

It’s quite literally the same thing as youtubers. Youtubers NEED validation to keep their content creation going, so do writers, so do other ccs on this site. This post is however, focused on WRITERS, so keep that in mind.

♯ PROS :

By doing this, you’re giving author valuable feedback! It’s similar to what you do in rbing with tags. Interactivity with their fics boosts their note counts and helps expand their audience, so srsly, now think of it: your one comment is playing such a massive role to help ccs create more content.

Imagine how much of a difference the note counts will be in when every person who simply likes after reading the fic, reblogs, leaves a comment and sends an ask. the note counts would be high on each and every fic, which is validation in itself, but your comments would inspire the writer so much more! Please, don’t skip the commenting part. Even a simple one like: “this is so cute!” is wonderful.

♯ CONS :

Remember, if you’re gonna give constructive criticism (which I’m sure you all are smart enough to know if different from hate), make sure the author is okay with it. Authors need to be in a specific mindset and must be ready to accept criticism, so if you’re gonna give constructive criticism to them when they’re at a low point, it may demotivate them.

Just commenting, instead of reblogging and commenting in the tags/ reblogging and then leaving an ask in their inbox, while it gives validation in plenty, will not lead to the author’s work being spread. Therefore I suggest either reblogging and commenting in the tags or reblog and then leave an ask, or comment under the fic!

!! reminder; I am not saying that if you don’t rb and just leave feedback, your feedback has no value. We authors truly appreciate every bit of feedback, but this post is aimed to help you learn how to interact with and support authors, and make them feel more motivated, because the current scenario of liking and scrolling is taking a toll on their creative abilities. Take it from a person who’s been writing for a year.

#4 : COMMSIONING VIA THEIR KO-FI/OTHER APPS !

Before any of you attack me, let me tell you that this is not a step that is 100% necessary to do. ONLY donate if you can and if you genuinely want to, and if anyone is forcing you to pay for something against your will, you need to get yourself out of there.

Regardless, if an author has a kofi and you’re able to and you want to donate, you definitely should! It’s also a valid form of support.

#5 : ADDING THEM ON REC LISTS/ RECOMMENDING THEM TO REC BLOGS

This is such an underrated option, to be honest. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve seen my fic was recommended onto some rec list and it’s made me smile so hard. If you like some fics, create a rec list! They’re oft very popular amongst the fans too. Making rec posts is such a great way to share your favorite stories with others.

Rec blogs! I’ve seen a couple going around, and needless to say they are a great way to get someone else to read your favorite author’s work whilst also giving them your own feedback. These blogs oft accept recs via a form or ask box, and they leave your feedback along with their own, or else they’ll oft tag the author in the feedback post, so look! You’re basically helping your author share their fic to many more people, because you’ve given them feedback and a reblog.

♯ PROS :

Validation! Feedback! Reblogs! More exposure! Helping a blog grow! Spreading love! basically a run down of the stuff I’ve said before!

♯ CONS :

Literally no con of this. Unless, a one in a million case, this author says they don’t like receiving feedback/being tagged, and I’m sure NO person has said this before, at least none that I’ve heard of.

#6 : FINAL COMMENTS; MISC !

When an author points out about how the interactivity is drastically reducing, don’t just give them blind apologies. Yes, you feel sorry for not interacting as much, we understand, but rather show that you’ll become a better content consumer through your actions. We need to see that we’re not just throwing words into a void and that people are actually trying to be better content consumers.

Understand the fact that authors don’t get paid for this, and 99% of the time, these authors don’t take commissions either. They’re giving you novel worthy writings for free. Take Percy Jackson: You think the author would have felt motivated to write the subsequent parts, let alone two whole series based off of it if literally no one showed that they were interested? Rick Riordan has sales, he is being paid, there are millions of people and big agencies who provide him feedback. Now take that huge amount and simmer it down to an audience of maybe 10000 people This is what fanfic authors want. They don’t want your money, nor are they telling you to risk your lives for them. All they want is, a reblog, some tags, some feedback, some INTERACTIVITY. A sign that they aren’t throwing fics into the void and that people actually like them, some motivation to continue. Seems fairly easy to throw an rb with some tags, right?

Don’t bother to tell me that we do this for ourselves and we shouldn’t ask for likes and reblogs and feedback, because 1) you are consuming the content that we “write for ourselves” and 2) writers post their content here for interactivity and feedback. We could just not post and write and save our fics in our dungeon drafts for years. But we choose to post to entertain the readers, the consumers. And we aren’t even asking that much in return.

Don’t give me the whole “I’m scared that authors feel that comments are annoying” excuse either because seriously this has been DEBUNKED SO MANY TIMES. Istg, in the nicest way possible, if you still think writers are annoyed by interaction and feedback, after so many posts, long rants have been posted as to how we’re not, then you must truly be living under a rock. There, I said it. Please stop thinking this way, I’ll say it again, AUTHORS ARE NOT ANNOYED OF FEEDBACK, COMMENTS, TAGS, REBLOGS. WE LOVE IT. Saying this is like saying that the audience in a theatre play shouldn’t clap when the play ends because the actors would find it noisy. 🤡

I’ve seen some people saying they have anxiety issues and such, so pls note that I’m not invalidating your condition. If you’re trying to be more interactive, I really appreciate it! If you can’t, that’s fine too. You’re trying.

But for the people who have no reason other than feeling lazy to rb and comment, your lack of interactiveness is not excused. Please. Tumblr is a reblogging site. If you’re gonna consume content like authors are some sort of machines, I encourage you to go get some more perspective.

This site is not Instagram or the satan bird app. Your likes are appreciated but frankly speaking, they do nothing to the author except tell them “Hey i read ur fic but i'm not gonna support u :D” and honestly, that is detrimental to their creative capabilities and mental health.

DON’T FOLLOW AN ACC JUST TO MINDLESS RB THEIR SIGNAL BOOST POSTS AND THEIR REBLOGS OF GIFS AND NOT INTERACT WITH THEIR WRITING AT ALL ! Trust me, authors prefer a lower amount of interactive followers than a high count that doesn’t even give them any feedback. Again your follows are appreciated, but when you’re following, you know the type of content the author creates, so the author expects that the more followers, the more interactivity. These days, this is just becoming the opposite. So don’t do it! If you’re gonna follow to read, interact with their works. I promise, this will make both you and the author happy. A win-win situation.

In conclusion: SUPPORT YOUR FUCKING AUTHORS! THEY ARE NOT MACHINES THAT HAVE NO FEELINGS TO PRODUCE CONTENT FOR YOU! FICS TAKE DAYS AND DAYS OF PLANNING, PLOTTING, OUTLINING, WRITING, EDITING, MAKING TEASERS. SO JUST SHOW THEM YOU APPRECIATE THEM WITH AN RB. IT’S THE L E A S T YOU CAN DO.

I will be liking this post here written by the lovely @chaninfused and @scriptura-delirus . Please take time to read it because if you weren’t convinced by my arguments, you will see how much frustration we as writers face on a daily basis. Please, just show support. Here is the post by @stayndays about how to get more people to read your work, because it also has a note on reblogging. Please educate yourself, and put an end to this mindless consuming culutre and bring up some interactivity.

If you’ve read this far, I want you to go to two of your favorite authors and leave some feedback in their inbox, and tag me in it (either tag me yourself or ask the author to do so, they won’t mind). Show your writers that our words are taking effect and you are becoming better consumers. I mean it. I’m serious. I want every single one who reads this post to do this. besides valid reasons, if you’re lazy to do this, you’re a part of the problem. PLEASE get more perspective.

Also, feel free to add to this post! I’d love to read your thoughts too, remember to be kind though. And, if I think your rb is somehow contradicting my points and is bringing down the reason I made this post, I will politely ask you to delete your comment, because this post is about being truthful about the harsh reality of tumblr consumers and how we can change it. I’m sure none of you will let it get to that point, though. <3 love you guys. 💓

And, just a reminder, don’t just blindly like this too. Do what I said before, and while I am not forcing you, I’d appreciate your reblog, because seriously, it took me 3 whole days to write this, plus, I’m sure this will help more of your followers understand the fault in consumer culture. haha, that’s it! This post was way too long uff.

also, this is ur cue to not be stupid in my inbox. You have something to say? Think I worded smth wrongly? I’m sure it wasn’t my intention to do so, point it out with manners.

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golddaggers · 3 years ago

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midnight rendezvous

pairing: louis tomlinson x f!reader

warnings: filthy smut with hints of fluffness. period sex. petnames. him calling you baby doll. defo nsfw +18, so my dudes, read carefully.

a/n: it's your renegade writer back with her fantasies. i've written this a while back and though it'd be such a shame to share. if you do like it, make sure to reblog and like. thanks and enjoy *wink* leth x

word count: 3k+

It’s just a bit past midnight when I park home, no one wandering the streets, or children playing about, there’s just the chilled breeze fumbling with the leaves. I don’t notice a second car on the driveway until I’m up close, I blame the dim yellow streetlights and my exhaustion. It had been a particularly busy shift at the hospital, I wanted nothing more than to sleep for about two days straight.

The cold crisp air makes me tremble for a split second, but I am soon welcomed by the warmth of the inside. I kicked off my sneakers, trying to be as silent as possible, I didn’t want to wake him up. A second car meant Louis had come home and he must be tired, it had been weeks since he had a break, we hadn’t seen each other for even longer. The weekends he happened to be around, I couldn’t work my schedule to spend them at home with him. It sucked, and I missed him more than I could put it into words.

A frustrated sigh slips while I walk to the kitchen, filling up a glass of water. After so many years, I should be used to it: the busy schedule, the months spent apart. I’m not, though. And being honest, I don’t think it’s possible to not be in pain when waking up to an empty bed beside me, to not hear the soft humming when he’s doing the dishes, to not miss the press of his lips on mine. I just wanted us to buy a bunch of lands somewhere, live a quiet, happy life, have children, and grow old. Just the two of us.

This was something I would never tell him. Robbing him of his passions wasn’t on my mind. I knew he’d oblige if I did say so. If I asked him, but I couldn't.

I leave a half-drunk glass behind, and go upstairs, taking off my plain white shirt then unbuttoning my jeans. Before I got to the bedroom, however, I froze, strangled sounds coming from there startling me for a second. It's followed by a smile creeping in, I’m very much aware, and familiar, with them.

The door isn’t closed, so I peek in. I see him naked, sheets pooled by his feet, and one hand wrapped around himself, moving up and down with ease, his thumb applying just enough pressure. I feel my mouth watering at the sight, a cramp twisting my belly. Desire gathers quickly, I was so touch-starved that I might as well come undone just by watching him get himself off.

His eyes are closed, thin lips parted. I slide off my pants, throwing both them, and my shirt away, walking inside in just my black lingerie. Even that was starting to be uncomfortable.

“Lou?” I call him, standing with crossed arms. He’s quick to drop everything, shooting me a wide, surprised glare. “Sorry, didn’t mean to spoil your good time.”

I’m half-joking at this point.

“I thought you’d only be home in t’ mornin’,” Deep blue eyes, sparked with lust, stare up at me. I'm very aware of how much I want to be near him again. “C’mere.”

He pats the space on his right side, it’s mesmerizing how quickly he can go from a sex god to a warm loving man. I go, but I don’t stay beside him, instead, I take my seat on his lap, which makes him laugh, rough hands on my waist, squeezing the flesh. I shift, uncomfortable, feeling him beneath me. So hard, so ready. It’s been so long I might just assume I'm a virgin all over again, shamefully responsive to anything he might do to me.

Louis leans in, planting a kiss just between the curve of my breasts. The prickle of his bead makes my pulse rise. It’s the intimacy that gets me hooked. He feels like coming home. A warmth that springs from the tip of my toes to my head, flushes my cheeks, and makes my forehead sweaty.

A “missed ya” whispered on my skin makes me shake, he then kisses the soft spot where the shoulder meets the neck, I let out a groan, moving, seeking friction. His smirk is taunting, both hands going up to my cheeks, four eyes meeting in the middle of a tired night.

“What now?” I say, unsure, panting as his thumb toys with my lips, pushing inside for a moment.

“Do you want a shower first?” He asks, staring at me, a boyish smile on his face.

“I should. I’m disgusting.”

“Nonsense,” The tip of his nose is pressed to my cheek, a ghostly kiss left behind on my jaw. “You look amazing anyway. Why d'ya think I’m so worked up?”

“Were you thinking of me? Getting yourself off imagining my hands around you? My spit and my lips, hmm?”

Louis pants when I grind down on him, slick with the throb of him against me. The fabric of my panties still forbids me from knowing his skin on mine, from sinking and swallowing him whole.

“Yeah, I was. Always think abou' ya', love.”

“I think about you too,” The friction makes me lean forward, sighing against his warm neck. “Nights get so lonely… I miss you so much, you know.”

“Darling…”

“Mmhm, I have to touch myself, grab my boobs,” I place his hands on them, and he squeezes, promptly. Fills his hands. It’s swollen, sore even. I’m burning up.

“Do you say my name when you come?” Louis asks, quietly, sucking a patch of skin. I’ve got goosebumps, I’m reeling from the build-up.

“I do. Over and over and over,” The room feels warmer if that's possible. Sweat drips down my back. I’m aware as to why I’m so sensitive, besides the yearning when it’s been months since he last touched me, my period heightens things up.

For a moment there, I almost forgot it.

“Can I just fuck you now, doll?” It’s a hoarse whisper, I clench in frustration. I’m hot, nearly suffocating. “Want t’ feel yeh so bad.”

His accent thickens, I’m lost, too into the moment to think coherently. I go for his lips, kissing him with passion, biting down on his bottom lip, still moving my hips, rolling against his. He pushes back, groaning into my mouth. It’s sinful. Everything about him is.

“Can’t, sweets,” It slips out, breathlessly. “‘M bloody down there.”

He smiles, soothing, hands firm on my hips. My stomach somersaults, it’s amazing how Louis manages to make me feel 17 every time he gives me that gorgeous smile of his. I feel like one of his groupies.

“Never cared ‘bout that before. C’mon, help me out.”

“Lou…” A strangled noise followed. I’m reaching a point where pleasure mixes with pain, I’m too aroused, too sensitive. He touches me there, trained fingers light to not hurt me but enough to stir me on. “You’re trying to bribe me, aren’t you?”

“Am I getting there?” The double entendre makes me chuckle, nodding. “Good. Let me take those off, hmm?”

“Come,” I untangle myself from him, the cold, empty feeling brings a pang to my lower belly. “If we’re doing this, let’s do it in the shower.”

I slide off my panties, tossing them at him. Louis laughs wholeheartedly, balling it in his hand while kicking the sheets away to follow me into our bathroom.

It’s bright, with mirrors everywhere. My hair looks an absolute mess, strands falling down my shoulders, I’ve got flushed cheeks, and glistening skin, perspiration all over. Five minutes with him just does that to you. He looks impressive from behind me, his brown hair was thrown back, wide blue eyes staring right at me from the reflection. I can see the extension of his tattoos, the tanned skin from being under the sun a little too long last weekend.

Louis is a sight for sore eyes.

We exchange a look then smile. The kind of intimacy that only comes when you love someone, beyond passion, beyond attraction.

He undoes the clasp of my bra. I sigh in relief, gasping when his hands cup my boobs, pinching my oversensitive nipples. I can’t help but toss my head back, resting it on his shoulder. He’s good at this, playing with me, edging me out.

“Missed them even more,” Louis expresses, a half-smile on his face. “You’ve got the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen.”

“You know you’re probably the only man on earth that can get away with saying stuff like that, right?” We share a laugh. “Turn the water on, sweets, yeah? I need to take the tampon off.”

While he busies himself with getting things ready, I put my leg up on the toilet and gently pull it out, being careful not to spill any blood on the floor. I’m mentally grateful it’s not an extra heavy day. I wrap it up in toilet paper and toss it in the bin.

“Water is warm, baby,” Steam starts to fog up the room. “Come.”

“I hope I will.” I wink at him. I don’t know why I’m suddenly so cheeky.

“Don’t tease me,” Lust soaks up his voice, eyes stern. He’d punish me for sure. When I wasn’t expecting him to do so. When we weren’t so desperate for each other. Whenever he’s back home, there’s no games, just tension relief.

He goes in, standing beneath the shower rain, his back facing me. I look at his ass, all perky and round. It’s no secret that I got a thing for it, and I might’ve bitten it a few… hundred times. Whenever I get the chance, really. I grab them, squeezing the muscle, a hoarse laugh falling from his lips. Louis thinks it’s silly, doesn’t see how it’s so great.

We kiss, then. In a brief moment, he spins and pulls me in, tongue rolling ‘round with mine. It’s wet, crude even. I make sounds that would mistake me for a pornstar, groaning when his tip brushes where I’m aching with need. He pulls my hair back, exposing my neck to him, sucking and biting. Leaving behind bruises I’ll have trouble covering. The adrenaline high doesn’t let me focus on that, though.

His hand slides between us, lodging between my legs, his palm pressing my pulsating clit. I call out for him, squeezing his shoulders, whimpering. Just this faint touch sends me into overdrive. It’s borderline ridiculous. How good he is. Or how much I want him. How I crave for him like a junkie craves a fix. It’s the trip of a lifetime when he’s inside me.

I go for his dick, so painfully hard it could cut right through me. There’s something about watching his eyes snap close, or how he moans, but I wobble, my breathing going fitful. He says my name, pressing his soft lips to my forehead, still rubbing me out. My hand seems smaller when it’s wrapped around the width of him. Louis feels heavy and scorching hot.

“I want to do something,” I whisper, high on the pleasure he was giving me. “Would you let me?”

“I want to fuck you, darling,” It’s raw, doesn’t sound dirty, more like a pleading question. “Please let me, hmm? I want to fill you up. Watch it drip down out of you. My pretty baby with cum all over her legs.”

A pained whimper comes out.

The tip of his fingers are stained red, they never really slipped inside me, just circling, creating a build-up that leaves me in discomfort. It’s unusual how much time we are taking with this, at this point, we would’ve fucked about three times already. Either way, I like it. The glint in his eyes, eyes that I adore. Diamond beauties staring down at me, so full of desire. It’s powerful. To know you have such an effect on a man like him.

I place him in the tight space between my thighs, both of us groaning with the stronger contact. I’m dripping and it’s not just blood, he’s thrumming, hips sloppily jerking forward. I feel him almost in me, but not quite. I scream, I’m sure our neighbours would make complaints. I don’t find it in me to care. It's way too heavenly.

Tattooed hands land on each of my love handles, our bodies are almost one at this point. That’s when he lifts my leg, we both can’t do any more foreplay, no more waiting. I help him inside, a little bit of blood gushing before he’s deep within. It takes a while for me to get used to him again, two months can be enough for things to shrink back up.

“God, your cunt is so fucking tight,” He mumbles, out-of-worldly. “You’re gonna make me come and I barely even started.”

“And you’re so fucking big, gonna split me open,” I shoot back, gripping tight on his forearm, trying to balance myself as he starts to pound, slowly at first. “Fuck, baby. This is so good.”

“Tell me who can make you feel so good, baby doll,” A particular hard snap of his hips makes me sway on my step, but his iron grip steadies me. “Use your words. I want to know.”

“You!” It’s a desperate squeal, I feel full, he stretches me to a burning point. Pain mixing with pleasure. It doesn’t take a scientist to tell me I’ll have trouble sitting down tomorrow. “You, baby.”

Louis lifts my other leg, both on the crook of his arms, and presses me against the tiled wall of our bathroom. His teeth clamp around my nipple, biting, sucking. I feel dizzy with the torrential rain of emotions. The water keeps falling on us, warm. It splashes when he thrusts.

None of us is lasting longer. I wasn’t particularly known to do so, not when he was the one handling me anyway. Some people are just skilled. Just know how to push somebody else’s buttons. And Louis knew how to push mine. He knew how to push me into the fucking edge. Coax a string of orgasms out of me if he so wanted. With his fingers, with his tongue, with his dick.

I moan, one hand tugging the hair at the nape of his neck and the other going to where our bodies met. It’s a fucking sight. Watching him go in then out of me. I start rubbing myself.

“You have to be quieter,” He says, our foreheads glued together, still slamming into me like I’m his favourite rag doll. “We don’t need people calling the police.”

“It’s your fault,” My reply is followed by a curse word. “Giving it to me so good like that.”

“Mmhm,” Dark blue looks at me, I can feel him getting sloppier. It’s close.

In urgency, he kisses me, I’m too frail, too putty in his hands. A numbness starts on the tip of my toes, it makes my eyes roll back, I can’t even voice anything anymore, entirely surrendered to him. To the vulnerability of this moment. Being his as much as he’s mine.

Time stands still whenever I’m with him. And right now, I can’t even keep track of it, too lost in him. That’s why I don’t know how long it took, it could’ve been seconds or minutes or hours. But I broke. Went up screaming. Barely registering he was telling me to shush, that it was too late in the night to be so loud. If that was what he was saying at all.

I’m shuddering, that I can tell with conviction, convulsing. That doesn’t happen often. I mean, it’s always fucking good, but like this, like I’m on something, that’s exceptional. At one point, he growls, squeezing me tighter. His hips stutter, face squashed against my chest. He spends himself inside me, as it was promised. I’m beyond satisfied, I’m in a state of bliss no one can reach me. Where the world doesn’t exist, only him.

Louis stays in for a while longer, nuzzling between my breasts, I play with his hair, a bubbly smile on my face. No high higher than this. He helps me down, I don’t trust my feet, clinging to him like a child. A chuckle falls from his lips.

“That good, huh?”

I just nod.

“I’ll help you clean up.”

With a sponge and a bit of liquid soap, Louis rubs down my body, taking his time to bubble me up. I’m still sensitive to touch, I have to pull his hand away when he tries to touch me down there, where I’m probably red and still swollen. I can feel the burn. Good burn, though.

When we both finish cleaning ourselves up, we step out of the shower. He still has a protective hand around my waistline. I wince at the thought of moving away, but I have to, I can tell I’m one second shy of making a mess on the floor.

He fetches us towels while I go deal with the bloody problem. Pun intended. I clean the dripping blood mixed with cum on my thighs, and when I look up, deep blue is fixed on me. As if entranced.

“What?”

“You just look hot.”

A little laugh slips.

“Thanks. You don’t look so bad,” I groan, it’s still sore-ish when I slide the tampon in. “You really did a number on me.”

“Eh, who’s counting?”

Louis winks, helping me up, I’m still weak on the legs. There’s no need to get dressed, so we wrap ourselves under the sheets, our sopping hair making stains on the pillows.

It’s so painfully intimate.

“I love you,” I whisper, half-asleep, minutes later.

“I love you more.”

His voice is the last sound I hear before I drift to the first night of sleep where I feel full, happy, and satiated. Slept like a queen, his arms wrapped around my waist, cheek pressed to my back. I was on my little piece of heaven and no one could ever snap me out.

#louis tomlinson #louis #louis x reader #louis tomlinson x reader #1d #one direction #smut #fluff #ish #sweet!louis #period sex #louis tomlinson smut #louis tomlinson fluff #louis smut #louis tomlinson period sex

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 4 years ago

Text

coming home

Summary: John had been gone for two months when a pregnancy test you took turned out positive.

Pairing: John Wick x F!reader

Wordcount: 1.9k

Warnings: a touch of angst, fluff, smut, unplanned pregnancy

A/N: Some John Wick loving for everyone who misses him as much as I do. come back John 🥺

Masterlist

Taglist in reblog

John had been gone for more than two months. He didn’t tell you exactly where he was going and what he was doing, but then again, when did he ever before?

You were used to it. He didn’t want to tell you more than you had to know when he took a job.

“If I do this I never have to leave again,” he had whispered against your forehead. He thought you were asleep, but you weren’t. You just couldn’t say goodbye to him again. You never could.

You had known John for almost eight years. You had worked at the local store driving grocery deliveries to earn some extra money while you were studying to get your degree.

You had delivered to his place every week.

It took almost five years for him to ask you out.

Over the last three years, more and more of your stuff made its way into his home. You still rented your apartment in the city, but you only went there to check if everything was alright. John hadn’t asked you to move in. He didn’t tell you that he loved you. It was like something was holding him back. He was a man of few words, but you could read how he felt about you in his actions. He always made sure that your favorite tea was stocked in the kitchen because you didn’t drink coffee. He always lowered the showerhead after he showered because he knew you couldn’t reach it. He always checked in with you when he had to go away.

But he didn’t this time.

John had been gone for two months and you had never told him that you loved him. And you didn’t know when you would see him again.

Another week went by. It was midnight, officially John’s birthday. You had been on edge the whole day. You never had the talk about a future. Because John didn’t plan a future when he didn’t know if he would be alive to live it. But John had to be there. You needed him and much more important the child growing inside of you needed a father.

It was a shock to you. You had been feeling more exhausted lately but you thought it was just the thought of losing John. A friend of yours had joked that maybe your hot boyfriend had finally knocked you up. You had gone to the next pharmacy to get a pregnancy test which turned out positive. Now here you were, looking at the sonogram of your child that you got just this morning.

Were you ready for a child? No. Could you raise a child on your own if John didn’t… You closed your eyes, shaking your head. He had to come home. He just had to.

“Happy birthday John,” you whispered into the silence of this big house before you got upstairs to take a shower and go to bed.

It was still dark when a noise woke you up. Blinking your eyes open you tried to make out what it was. Running water. Your heartbeat quickened. It wasn’t the shower next to the bedroom, it was the shower in the basement. The one only John used when he got back from work. Carefully you got out of bed, pulling at the shirt, his shirt, you had been wearing to sleep. Remembering that you left the sonogram on the kitchen island next to the cake you had baked for his birthday, you ran downstairs, finding everything as you left it. Breathing a sigh of relief you didn’t hear that the shower stopped as you looked at the sonogram again. Would he be happy? Would he want to stay? Overwhelmed with your feelings, of having him home you began to tear up. That’s something that happened more often lately. Damn these hormones.

“Are you crying?” his voice startled you and you only began to cry harder as you turned around and found John walking towards you, wearing only some sweatpants and a white shirt, his hair still damp from the shower.

“John…” you whimpered with a smile, feeling silly but he didn’t care. He pulled you in his arms, his lips kissing your hair and for the first time in a while, you felt like you could breathe again. You inhaled his scent, crying into his shirt while he held you and mumbled soothing words. You didn’t know how long you stood there in his arms, your fingers digging into his back as if to make sure that he was indeed back here in your arms.

“I’m sorry I went away for so long. And I’m sorry I didn’t stay in touch with you, but…” he sighed. Finally, you looked at him, smiling when you looked into the eyes you loved so much.

“That’s it. I’ll never have to leave again. I’m done. I…” you didn’t let him finish as you got on your tiptoes while one of your hands in his neck pulled him down to crash your lips against his.

“I love you. I’ve been in love with you for the last three years but I was too scared to tell you. And all I could think about was that maybe I’ll never get the chance to say these words to you. I love you, John,” you whispered. He only kissed you again, both of his hands framing your face.

“I love you too. I want everything with you. Move in with me. Officially. I want you here, I… I love you so much,” you silenced him by kissing him again, a big smile on your face. He moaned against your lips as you licked into his mouth.

“I missed you so much…” he whispered, his lips leaving your mouth to kiss down your jaw and you giggled.

“Missed you too. Your shirt stopped smelling like you…” you sighed, your hands in his hair, as he sucked on your neck.

“John…” you had to tell him. You shrieked when he picked you up, sitting you down on the kitchen island. You pushed a little against his chest, making him look at you. You loved this man. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with this man.

“John, I’m pregnant,” you said. He just looked at you, his lips flushed from kissing you.

“I know we haven’t talked about any of this, but… I’m pregnant. And I want this. I want to start a family. With you,” you sucked your bottom lip in. He didn’t say anything but you felt one of his hands coming down on your stomach, warmth spreading through you.

The biggest smile came to his face before he leaned in and kissed you softly.

“This… God baby. I’m so happy,” he said and you could see the tears in his eyes.

“So it’s okay I didn’t get you anything else for your birthday?” you joked and he laughed. A laugh that you wanted to hear more often.

“It’s okay. You’re more than enough. You and…”

“I call them grape. Because that’s how big our little grape is,” you offered.

He kissed you again and picked you up, his lips not leaving yours as he walked towards the stairs. You held on to him, your arms crossed behind his back until he lay you down on the bed. He took his shirt off and you couldn’t help but frown as you looked at the already fading bruised on his chest. Pushing yourself up your carefully run over them with your fingers, before you got on your knees and kissed them softly. Kissing up his chest you ended with your lips on his as he slowly leaned down until he was on top of you, his hand slowly pushing the shirt you were wearing up.

“Missed you so much... “ he whispered, his other hand in your hair.

“Been thinking about you the whole time, thinking about touching you…” his lips left yours as he slowly slid down your body. He kissed your stomach looking up at you and you smiled. His lips kissed up your body, his hands pushing your shirt up until you took it off. John’s lip closed around one of your nipples, sucking until you arched your back, a little whimper escaping your mouth.

“John please…” you cried.

“What do you want baby?” he asked, kissing your breast sucking on your other nipple.

“I want you inside me. Been waiting for you…” you closed your eyes. He didn’t stop sucking as one of his hands wandered up your thigh, his palm rubbing over your pussy. Your panties were soaked.

“So wet for me already….” he groaned.

“Just fuck me John…” you didn’t care how needy you sounded, you just wanted to feel him. He kissed your lips before he pushed himself up, getting out of his pants. His cock was hard and already leaking with precum. He pulled your panties down your legs before he lay down on top of you, his arms coming around you.

“I love you,” he whispered, kissing you as he slowly pushed inside. You moaned against his lips, your fingers digging into the skin of his back as you crossed your legs around his hips. You both let out a content sigh when he was fully inside. It burned a little, but you didn’t care you just wanted to feel him. Slowly he began to move, bottoming out almost completely before he slowly pushed back in. It was pure agony, pure perfect agony. Your hands ran down his back, landing on his ass and you pushed him down. He seemed to get the message and thrust faster.

“Never gonna leave you again…” he kissed your forehead. You moaned, tilting your head up to kiss his lips.

“John... I need…” you could already feel the pressure building. His hand underneath you wandered down, pulling your hips up. The changed angle made his cock find that perfect spot inside of you.

“Fuck, just like that…” one of your hands wandered up his back, grabbing into his hair. He looked down at you, watching you as you fell apart. You felt your whole body shake with the intensity of your orgasm, yet you remained your eyes open, looking at him, his name on your lips in a silent cry.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, kissing you deeply as he fucked you through your orgasm.

“Come inside me John,” you whispered and he groaned.

“Shit…” he cursed and it wasn’t long before you felt him twitch inside of you, filling you up. You were both shaking, a thin layer of sweat over your bodies. He kissed you again and you let him, not wanting ever to stop.

“Marry me,” he whispered and you couldn’t help but laugh, your arms now both crossing behind his back.

“You’re asking me to marry you while you’re still inside of me?”

“I mean I can get downstairs and get the ring…” he made an attempt on climbing off of you but you didn’t let him, enjoying the feeling of him inside of you.

“You got a ring?” you asked, playing with his hair.

“I’ve had it for almost two years…” he said and you could see that he was waiting for your answer. You felt yourself tear up again, a big smile spreading on your lips.

“Of course I’ll marry you.”

#my writing #fanfiction #john wick #John Wick x reader #keanu reeves #fan fiction #fanfic #john wick x you #john wick x ofc

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angel-anoetic · 3 years ago

Note

Hey! 🌿 here, fist thing, you are really gathering an audience now! I'm so proud of you for that. You definitely deserve it. Now for the request but, how about one with Punz were you guys weren't even friends it was just the benefits, and someone takes one if readers canon lives and Punz just /flips out/. Thank you again, you're doing amazing!

thank you so much 🌿 anon! i really can't believe how far i've come so fast. you were my first anon, and i am forever grateful for you trusting me with your requests!! enjoy the fic, i did imply it was kinda spicy, so i hope that is okay- enjoy!! <3

Don't forget to like to save, reblog to share!

c!Punz x gn!Reader - Heavy Minds

genre: /rom, feelings come to boil

warnings: reader death, implied violence, implied nsfw (nothing explicit)

masterlist <3

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

You had never considered you and Punz to be friends. Quite frankly, neither did he. You and the merchant had met by chance one day when you and Karl needed some gold. You had tagged along, as you'd never met him before.

"Hey Punz! I was wondering if you could help me."

"Sure, Karl, what do you need?" Karl began to explain what he and the fiance's needed for their new establishment while you poked around the chests that sat in the tower. Then, you went up through the levels and explored what each had to offer.

You were going through a chest on the third floor when you felt a body behind you.

"Dude, Karl, this guy has a lot of shit."

"Yeah, well, this guy has a lot to do." He scoffed—crap, not Karl. You turned and were met with blue eyes as he stared you down.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to come off as bitchy or anything." You gave a small laugh that wasn't returned. He just stared at you, his face void of emotion.

"What are you doing anyway? Snooping around my stuff?" He moved you away from his chests with his body, rummaging through it to make sure nothing had been touched or taken.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, "Like I would ever want any of the crap in there." You could feel your emotions getting the better of you, but it was infuriating how he was talking to you like you were just an inconvenience to him.

Something about your tone must've ticked something in him because next, you knew, you were stood against the wall of Punz tower, his arms resting on either side of your head. You both stared each other down, both refusing to let down your guard. Finally, his eyes drifted from your eyes to your lips, licking his own as his hand moved from the wall towards your cheek, caressing it softly.

"Y/N!! We have to get going!" You were snapped back to reality by Karls voice calling from below.

You cleared your throat as Punz backed away from you. Later that night, you went back, and it just continued from there ever since.

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

And that's all you both expected. You'd go over, or he'd sneak into El Rapids, then the next day, you both would carry on with your day like nothing had happened. Sure there were lingering stares, some late-night conversations, but nothing that could ever hold enough substance.

And that's what it was until today.

Sam had shown up at El Rapids at dawn and refused to leave without you, claiming that he had to discuss something of business. He didn't tell you that the businesses surrounded a claim that you had stolen valuable property from the prison.

The old unit where he had kept Ponk ( the day he lost his arm) was still standing, so that where you stood, in a box that Sam had locked you in without any weapons or armor.

"Sam, just let me go! Why would I steal from you, especially since it has to do with the prison!"

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but you know that I am going to need a confession or proof that you're not guilty."

You hit the glass of the box and groaned. "Do I look stupid enough to steal from you and the prison? Really Sam!"

"I don't know, but nonetheless, you might be stupid enough to do it."

You huffed and marched towards the bed that had been set up in the room.

By this time, a few people had started to gather a bit away from where you and Sam were. So not only was this aggravating, but now it was humiliating.

"Y/N, I need something. Now. Or...I'm going to have to do something neither of us wants to happen."

Punz stood watching as Sam talked to whoever was in the box. He walked over to Bad, who had been watching the whole thing unfold.

"What the fuck happened dude?"

"Language. Sam said that Y/N stole something or messed with the prison-I'm not really sure. But it doesn't look like they're getting off scot-free."

You turned back to Sam. "And what are you gonna do about it?"

"I tried to warn you. I'm sorry Y/N" There was a click of a button then a sudden opening in the ceiling.

"Sam, what is that?"

He remained silent. The heat in the room grew. The smell was one you recognized from years of mining, years of visiting the nether.

"Sam, no-no!" Your hands couldn't do enough damage to the windows. The walls that held you in were too strong for your bare hands. The lava hissed against the ground, mere inches from your feet.

"Sam!!" The tears fell fast, the lava inched closer at your skin. Some pops hit your bare skin, sizzling, making you scream out more.

Punz rushed over at the first screams. He looked at Sam, who stood stone-faced.

"Dude, what the fuck! Get them out of there!" He pushed Sam, who stepped back immediately.

"I can't. Until I have proof or a confession." Punz looked back at the box, tears starting to fill his eyes.

He ran to the glass, placing his hands against yours. "Look at me!"

His voice was muffled, but you could still understand him. "It hurts! It's so hot, Punz!" The first inches of lava hit your feet, making you let out a strained scream.

Punz turned back to Sam. "What proof do you need!?"

"Some stuff happened around prison three nights ago. If someone can vouch for them truthfully, I'll know I was wrong."

"I can!"

"How?" Sam scoffed.

"Because...because they were with me. They stayed the night at my place."

Sam looked confused. "Are you lying? Do you-" Another heart-wrenching scream pulled both your attention to the box?

One second you were there; the next, you were gone.

Punz's heart at that moment broke. An unworldly pain shot through his chest.

"You killed them."

"I took one life. They'll be back soon. And free now that you've vouched for them."

Punz didn't need snarky comments right now. He needed to let his pain be known. So he stood up and tackled Sam, knocking him to the ground.

"You son of a bitch! What the hell would you do that!" He threw one punch which Sam narrowly avoided, then another, which caught Sam at the perfect place.

The punches refused to stop. Everything was almost in slow motion for Punz. His fist hit Sam relentlessly. Sams mask was beginning to crack from the blows. He finally pushed Punz off of him.

Punz stood tall as he pulled his crossbow from behind him, pointing it directly at Sam.

"Don't!" Bad rushed over, pointing the weapon towards the sky as the arrow left the weapon.

"He needs to pay-"

"No!" Bad stood in front of Punz. "Stop. This solves nothing. What you can do is go find y/n. Make sure they're okay. They won't be here, more likely at El Rapids. Please, just go, before you end up in more trouble."

"Bad..." Bad's eyes said it all though. Punz knew he was right. Sam was groaning on the floor, desperately trying to hold his mask together.

"Thank you." Punz whispered to Bad before running off towards the direction of El Rapids.

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

this one was kinda...long lmaoo, sry i haven't gotten punz requests for a bit

#c!punz x reader #c!punz x y/n #punz x reader #punz x y/n #dsmp x y/n #dsmp x reader #dsmp imagine #dreamsmp x reader #dream smp imagines #dream smp x reader #mcyt x you #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #🌿#🌿 anon

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calpops · 3 years ago

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forgotten | c.h.

Its not unusual for your birthday to be forgotten by many; it’s never a surprise to receive last minute, half hearted texts from friends or belated cards from family. It’s always been easy to let it roll off your back when you have Calum by your side. But the first year he forgets your special day, it crushes you.

aka it’s my birthday and I’ll post relatable angst if I want to :)

1.8k words

my masterlist | feedback and reblogs mean the world

* * *

Calum comes home with a heavy feeling in his chest as he notices all the lights are out. It’s only just past eight; usually there would be at least one glowing window lit up by lamp light with you sat with a book in wait for him. Tonight it’s dark and quiet as he enters the house. Soft music doesn’t spill around the corners. The tv isn’t a muffled call to your bedroom. Duke’s paws don’t even click as they come around the corner to greet him. It’s silent and empty and it all echoes around him as he slips off his shoes and goes in search of you.

The bedroom door is closed, no light spills under it. No noise breaks through the wood. His hand apprehensively reaches for the doorknob, trying to be quiet as the night falls on his shoulders. The door softly swings open with a sigh and as his eyes become accustomed to the dark he notices the shape under the covers. You’ve tucked yourself in, a spill of hair on the pillow, arms pulling the sheets taut up around your chin. Duke laying beside you, undisturbed and too uncaring to move from his perch. Calum smiles, soft and serene as he winds way around the bed to kiss you goodnight.

He stops short at the sight of you. Moonlight glimmers against tear tracks down your sullen cheeks. Red, puffy eyes stay tightly shut. Calum’s smile quickly turns to a frown, an ache consuming him as he drops to a knee and reaches gentle fingers out to stroke through your hair. He doesn’t understand why you’re feeling this way but it doesn’t stop him from consoling you. Your eyes flutter open slowly and as you register his presence you bite your lip as fresh tears gather in your eyes.

You pull away from him, bury yourself back under the covers and stay silent.

“Sweetheart, are you okay? What’s going on? Talk to me.”

Calum’s voice is soft and encouraging, trying to coax some words out of you. When you don’t speak, only slightly shake as his hands glide over your arms, Calum feels crestfallen. The silence threatens to swallow him whole. Usually, he knows what’s wrong, can pinpoint the reason for your emotions and pain.

“It’s nothing, okay, it’s just stupid.”

Your explanation is shaken and does little to instill faith in its reason. Calum shakes his head. He wants to tell you that there’s no such thing as a stupid reason for being upset but the words stall in his throat as he tries to climb in next to you but you make no room.

“It’s like this every year. I should be used to it by now.”

Your next explanation further drives Calum to worry. In a snap moment, like a wave crashing over his head, he finally understands. His hand darts to his phone in his pocket, your birthday lighting up the date on the screen. He lets out a broken and uneasy breath as all of the implications try to drown him.

He forgot your birthday. You’ve been alone all day.

“Sweetheart, I’m so fucking sorry,” he whispers with a strain in his voice.

He can feel his own tears pooling in his eyes, shame and guilt assaulting all of his senses. He’s never missed your birthday before. Has always been there from the moment you woke up to the minute you fell asleep. You’ve confided your dislike of the day to him multiple times; he’s noted that he’s the only one who remembers. Cards from family come in days late, texts from friends are last minute and half hearted. All you’ve ever wanted, all you’ve ever asked for on your special day is to have him around.

You shudder out a broken breath, shift under the sheets but make no move to let him in or come closer.

“It’s okay. You’ve been busy at the studio. That comes first, I understand,” you whisper so lowly it’s barely audible but it still cuts deep against Calum’s racing heart.

“It’s not okay, it doesn’t come first,” he tries to reassure and tentatively reaches out for you again. This time, you don’t flinch away. He takes it as a good sign. “I’m going to make it up to you. I promise.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re not the first person to forget, you won’t be the last. It’s always been like this.” You finally shift up and Calum opens his arms for you though there’s little hope in his chest that you might collide into his embrace. It takes you a moment, bleary eyes being rubbed and lip trembling, to get collected. Your gaze meets his. “I’m just glad you’re home now.”

His faith nearly knocks him off his knee as you collide into him and wrap your arms around his neck. Bury your face against the strength of his shoulder. Weep in a small but heart breaking way.

“I’m home,” he repeats and furrows his brows, knowing it’s not enough. His entire chest aches and his eyes burn but he holds his composure, knowing his guilt needs to be put on the back burner for you; it’s small in comparison to the emotions and abandonment that have sat with you all day. “I’ve got you sweetheart.”

He almost promises that he won’t let go, he won’t leave, but a plan burns through the back of his mind and he knows his departure is imminent. He takes solace in the fact you’re exhausted enough to be led back to laying down with heavy eyelids. He murmurs and hums to you until your eyes flutter closed and he’s sure you’re asleep by the sound of your even breathing.

He stands, stretches and keeps his eyes on you for as long as possible. When he finally cuts around the corner of the bed he pats Duke’s head.

“Stay right here. I’ll be back,” he whispers to the old dog, hoping if you wake again his presence will suffice until he’s back.

He’s not gone long. His plan is simple but he hopes it’s enough. You’ve never asked for anything, but the hopes of restoring your ruined day live in petals and icing and charms. He goes back into the house and makes a beeline for the bedroom, gently wakes you and guides you up.

“What are you doing?” you ask as you rub the sleep and leftover sadness from your eyes.

Calum shakes his head, winds his arms around you and helps you to your feet. Your wobbly at first, emotionally exhausted after all of the turmoil. You lean into his side and for the feeling of your warmth against him he’s grateful.

“Trying to make it right,” he answers as he guides you away from the bed and towards the door. “There’s still a few hours of your birthday left. Let me try, okay?”

You nod as you’re led out of the bedroom and to the dimly lit kitchen. Calum walks you to the bar where flowers, some with already dying petals, sit in a vase. A lone cupcake with a candle and flame sits alongside the flowers. A small breath leaves you at the effort. While Calum feels it’s lame, the last picks at the store on the shelf, his heart still hammers at the genuine appreciation in your eyes.

“Come sit,” he encourages as he props a stool around for you. You do as he bids and he looms behind you to softly sing happy birthday in your ear; each line punctuated by a small kiss to your neck, shoulder, cheek, anywhere his lips can reach. “Happy birthday, sweetheart. Make a wish.”

He brings the cupcake and the flaming candle towards you, gentle hands holding it within your breath’s reach. You turn to face him as you take the cupcake, his eyes soften as yours find his. You blow it out in one small huff and remove the candle. The frosting and cupcake are a bit stale but you share the treat with a few soft giggles and a swipe of chocolate to his nose. Though the petals are dying you pull the vase to the center of the counter before turning back to Calum to put yourself securely in his arms.

“I didn’t need the flowers or cupcake,” you start and before Calum can speak any words of you deserving more you continue on. “I just need you.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he murmurs and presses a kiss to the top of your head. His fingers stroke through your hair and his hands come to settle on the small of your back. “I’m sorry. It’ll never happen again. You’ll always have me. Any day. Every day. I promise.”

You nod against his chest, your trust and faith in him infallible even after the day of desertion and misery.

“Then my wish came true,” you whisper as your cheeks blaze at the confession. Calum chuckles as you further hide against him. “You can’t laugh at me. It’s still my birthday.”

And even when the sun rises the next day, birthday long gone and the heartache of being alone starting to be forgotten, Calum wakes you with a surprise. You sit up to see him throwing your clothes in open luggage.

“What are you doing?” you whisper, eyebrows furrowed as you watch him neatly fold and then haphazardly throw garments in the bag.

“Packing your stuff.”

He doesn’t further explain and it prompts a, “why?” from you.

“So you have clothes to wear on our vacation.” He gives you a broad smile as the words roll off his tongue and he reaches behind him to throw papers onto the bed. They settle at your feet and you reach down to retrieve them, blurry words coming in and finally being processed. Boarding passes.

“Vacation?”

“Two weeks. Just us,” Calum explains as he goes back to packing your things for you. “We leave in an hour.”

The time limit pushes you up from the bed, his effort and act of grandeur making you throw yourself into his arms. Your clothes drop to the floor in favor of him bringing you closer.

“That’s more than I could have asked for,” you whisper with a crack in your voice.

Calum only smiles and finally says the words he’d been thinking for so long. “You deserve even more than this. Sorry it’s late. Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

* * *

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