#but i refuse to write it myself | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

willowser · 10 months

Text

bakugou + strawberries ; 2.7k ੈ‧₊˚ for our meet fruit collab ! ‧₊˚✧ ₊˚

mina suggests speed-dating.

first as a joke — you think — after the two of you spend too many weekends in a row watching sappy rom-coms on her couch while crying into a bowl of trail mix, and then a second time, and then a third time, after you refuse.

in her last attempt, she pulls out the big ones: her upcoming birthday. it will be so fun!! she tells you, with her big eyes and bigger pout, looking at you as if you'd hung the stars by saying yes. it's a cheap shot, really, because she knows you or anyone would do pretty much anything when it comes to mina the birthday girl.

— and that's how you find yourself here, sitting in too nice of an outfit to be spending your allotted time listening to a man bash his ex-girlfriend.

you might have found him a bit cuter if he wasn't doing that, or if he showed even an ounce of interest in you whatsoever. instead, he's treating this like a therapy session, and you're not getting paid for it.

when the timer rings, you're more than thankful. irritated enough, even, to spin around the room in search of mina — who is happily watching on as two men grapple with each other for who gets to sit across from her next. you suppose being a top hero is good for that, finding someone who is willing to give you their all.

to yourself, you sigh quietly and turn back to the little bowl of strawberries in the center of the small table, the flutes of champagne on either side of it. mina's bottle, you noticed, is almost totally empty; your last date hadn't even looked at yours, nor did he seem to think to offer you a drink.

it's not that you're jealous. really. you wouldn't even say that you're interested in dating right now, finding your job at the agency to be too much of a whirlwind to balance, anyway. you love mina: she's your closest friend, your home away from home, your cheerleader and personal hero — but working for her is nothing short of a full-time job.

sometimes your bed is a little lonely, when she's not staying the night in it after another rom-com evening, but you really can't think that you'd like someone in it, anyway, much less a stranger. it's hard to explain where your time goes, who it goes with; having to share that with someone, you think, would take more emotional energy than you have right now.

and maybe it also sorta, kinda has to do with the fact that the one and only man you're thinking of outside of work — is the same man you see inside of it every single day.

the very thought of bakugou has your stomach turning, painfully. the image of him in the late afternoons with the sun glowing in his hair, the gentle look he spares you as you wait for the elevator, how he'd looked at you today, when you told him where you and mina were going; you don't know how anyone could make you feel the way he does, at least right now.

the seat across from you is taken up suddenly, then, and you look up into the eyes of someone that looks — nice. a little shy, a little nervous, as they introduce themselves. they decide to pour you a glass of champagne, and they even tell you, openly, voice shaking, how nice you look tonight.

you smile so hard that your cheeks hurt, much to your own surprise.

"i'm actually allergic to strawberries," they tell you with a laugh, gently pushing the bowl closer to you. "that would be a hell of a first date, wouldn't it?"

you agree. "definitely one to remember!"

"well, in that case—" they joke, suddenly leaning forward as if they're going to pull it back towards them, and it's so earnest and sweet that you feel your heartbeat in your throat a bit. "i sound like i'm kissing up to you, but—you have a really nice smile, also."

you have to sit back in your seat, fanning your face dramatically as you both laugh. "wow, i'm not used to someone—"

"time's up, extra."

you blink so hard that your eyes are crossed when you open them, and you look up at the man standing there, waiting for his turn, just as the timer dings and the room comes to life with a bustle. the person across from you only frowns, too timid to say anything in response before they're getting up and casting you a regretful glance. they're barely a foot away before the chair is taken, so aggressively that it scrapes against the floor and shakes the table.

you can't believe what you're seeing. you can't believe bakugou is sitting across from you, right now, ruining everything.

"what—are you doing?" you hiss, though your feelings — with a mind of their own — flutter like butterflies in your stomach at the sight of him.

the scowl he gives you is ugly, as always, but his face is smoother than you remember it being today; freshly shaven, maybe. the cologne he's wearing is strong, woodsy, potent enough that it dizzies you from across the table, that you can only imagine how sweet it smells soaking into the soft skin of his neck. even the shirt he's wearing, you notice, is a button down that you've never seen him in.

"the hell do you mean?" he growls, face pinched as he leans closer, so that his voice doesn't carry as it usually does. "'s'it look like i'm doin'? saving you from some sorry dumbass."

"bakugou," you grit, though the room quiets as everyone takes their seats again, and you have to swallow back your annoyance so you don't draw anymore attention to yourself.

you're not dumb enough to think he'd get away without some people fighting for his attention, too, the same way they did to mina, and — as irritated as you are, suddenly, at his appearance — you're not exactly keen on sharing him, either.

"they were very nice, thank you very much,"

"psh," he rolls his eyes, a muscle in his jaw jumping. "couldn't even look me in the eyes to tell me to fuck off—"

"maybe because they were worried you would blast them through the window—"

"and i would have—"

"oh!" you clench your hands into fists and squeeze your eyes shut, trying to will your anger back down. losing your cool isn't a good look, especially in a room of people that are trying to get to know you. "are you serious right now? why are you here?"

"you really wanna spend our five minutes doin' this?"

and there's something about the way he says it — our five minutes — that has your stomach turning in that horrible way it always does, whenever you bite into the softer parts of him. the look on his face is pensive, nervous if you thought that he was capable of being nervous. his shirt, his shaven cheeks, his alluring cologne; he's here, right now, on a date with you. pushed his way into it, even.

you straighten in your seat and sit back, dropping your eyes to the table, ashamed at the fire you've just thrown at him. "can you at least tell me why you're here in the first place?"

bakugou is silent for long enough that you can't stand not to take him in, how appealing he is to look at, how your heart sings when he looks back. one shake of his head has him sighing and then he's leaning back, too, staring only at the strawberries.

"this is her birthday thing, ain't it?"

"yeah," you murmur in agreement quietly, fiddling with your own fingers in your lap as your nerves harden into bitter disappointment. he's here for the same reasons you are, you tell yourself: for your friend, only.

distantly, you try to remind yourself that this nothing out of the ordinary. that you shouldn't be thinking of him this way, getting so hung-up on someone that's never expressed an interest in you to begin with. there have been a few late night conversations in the stairwell, that ran longer than they should have, that revealed more than they should have — but it doesn't make him yours. not in the way you want it to.

in an attempt to swallow down your own sourness, you reach for a strawberry, picking through them until you find the fattest one, and then bite it to the stem. a little stream of juice sprays out, dripping down over your bottom lip as you scramble for your napkin. you lick after it before patting at your face, spreading the sugar, the sweetness.

bakugou leans across the table so suddenly that you startle, mouth twisted like he's struggling to say what he's about to say. "alright, look—"

the timer rings, horribly, but his ruby stare never dims, never leaves yours and yours never leaves his, either, as if you're both suddenly trapped in a weird limbo of in-between; in-between the quiet moments, in-between the loudest ones, in-between everyone else, together.

and then mina notices.

"oh my god, blasty, you came!" she shouts, springing up from her seat to wave at you both from across the room. her earrings jingle loudly, bracelet beads knocking together as she leans too far to the left, champagne-drunk already. it snaps the moment between you and him, worry filling the gaps as you think about how you're going to get her out of here, once the night is over.

bakugou sinks a little further into his chair, as if it will hide him, before grumbling to himself. cheeks reddening, you realize; strawberry-kissed. he heaves a heavy sigh before digging his fingers into his eyes, deep enough that an ache develops in your own, and he opens his mouth to speak again when someone else approaches the table.

"okay, time to switcheroo!" he sings, grinning too cheerily at you, enough to make you laugh at his enthusiasm.

it darkens bakugou, considerably; "piss off," is all he says, scooting his chair further into the table as if to claim it. he barely gets another word out before the man is starting to protest, and the look he gives him then is awfully viscious: nostrils flared, looking up from beneath his long lashes and furrowed brow, as if this stranger had pissed in your champagne. "i said, fuck off, before i howitzer you through the—"

"okay!" you interrupt, reaching across the table with both hands to close one of bakugou's. his fingers are curled dangerously, and you swear you can see little sizzles of steam slipping between your linked fingers. "let's just—do an extra skip this time, okay? how about you just gives us this one, and you go to the next table?"

the man frowns — which is a bit flattering — but ultimately takes the lifeline you offer, trailing away without another word down to the next table. you can feel the couple on the other side watching you and bakugou now, a little open-mouthed, and your heart quickens at the worry that they're noticing him, that your new five minutes are going to be wasted, too.

—but his hand hasn't moved from yours and his eyes have returned, full to the brim with some emotion you can't read. if you had to guess, you'd say regret, maybe, but you aren't sure how to take that, and so you don't.

you should let him go, literally and figuratively, but the solidity of your logic is no match for the soft beat of butterfly wings in your gut.

"what are you doing?" you ask him again, softly, surely, because you want to hear the answer whatever it is. he either needs to deny you, here and now so you can move on — or he needs to acknowledge the confliction on his face, the soft intertwine of his fingers into yours.

bakugou looks at you now the way he does in the stairwell, the way he does when the sun is painting you warm, too. "i told you," he murmurs, "savin' you from some dumbass."

"but why do you even care?"

another heavy sigh falls from him and you can feel your glass-fragile heart breaking when his hand slips from yours, a little roughly. it surprises you when he grabs the champagne bottle from the center of the table and pours himself a small glass, downing it in one, bitter go before filling up your flute, too.

liquid confidence, maybe; his cheeks darken, noticeably, before he's running a rough hand over his face, still struggling to wash out the words.

"why the hell do you think?" he finally says, though his harsh question lacks the abrasive tone his voice usually has; instead it's gentler, more sincere, bakugou — katsuki — in his rawest form. "why d'you think i do—any of this shit?" one hand waves around to gesture to the span of the dining room, but you know he means more than that, much more. "you think i spend that much time after work just 'cause i have time to waste? jesus."

"i don't know," you say, earning a flat look. "why do you?"

"why do you?"

you take the glass from the center of the table and peer down into it, how it bubbles. maybe you're playing dumb and maybe that's what's really bothering him, but — someone like bakugou deals in absolutes, and you need him to do it now.

the struggle is clear, though, across his face, thickening how he swallows and turning down his lips that much more. you feel a bit bad in the silence, when the timer rings and the muscle in his cheek jumps again.

before anyone can even approach the table, he simply sticks his hand out, and the man beside you was definitely watching on, because he doesn't spare you a glance before going around.

and maybe, you think, decidedly, that's enough.

"because i don't want to go home yet," you tell him honestly, trying to ignore the blood rushing in your ears with his mouth twists and he starts to squirm at your truth. "because i'd rather spend the night with you in a stairwell, than anywhere else."

there's a ludicrous amount of tension that leaves his shoulders then, so much that you didn't notice it until it was gone, and he slumps back into his chair with pink ears, now. the sight makes you smile, widely, as if the sight is a confirmation.

maybe for him, it is.

"yeah, well," he grumbles, eyes dropping to the strawberries before darting away, as if he'd thought of something he shouldn't have. "that's what 'm sayin', too."

"no, you're not!" you laugh, nose crinkling when he side-eyes you with a frown. "you're not hardly saying anything!"

"i'm here, ain't i?" he argues, huffing like a bull. "makin' a damn idiot of myself just to stop you from—"

"—going home with some dumbass?"

"well, yeah!"

"so you want me to be going home with you, then?"

"yeah! no! i mean—" he scowls when you laugh again, lip pulling up over his teeth as if he means to bite into your softest parts, too. the thought is more thrilling that you're willing to admit — at least for now. "quit laughin'!"

but it's not just you; across the dining room, you realize mina's giggling, too, turned around in her seat, ignoring the chatty man that wouldn't shut up about his ex. when bakugou turns around to glare at her, she nearly tips out of her chair by throwing her head too far back, and when he moves to stand up like he needs to help her, all she does is wave at him to turn back around.

and he does, to you, cheeks flaring as he grabs the bottle of champagne again, pouring himself his own glass to glare into. he mutters out another quiet, "jesus" before slamming both his elbows on the table, rudely, and holding his glass up for — what you belatedly realize is — a cheers.

behind him, the afternoon sun has long since set, replaced now by nightfall and stars that shine through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows — but he glows regardless, and the look he gives you is just as warm.

#IT'S DONE I'M FREEEEEEE #literally i wrote both of these TODAY my brain is WORN OUT #somebody never let me wait this long again LMAOOOO #sorry that these are both dog water !!! :) i have no one to blame but myself !!!! :)#but it's DONE WEEEEEEE #WAAAAHH nikuniku gave me the idea of speed dating with bakugou 😭 where he just — absolutely refuses to play LOL #cuuuteeee #will edit in the morning brain sleepy.....#✿ willow writes #✿ one shot: bakugou

532 notes · View notes

kitswag · 3 months

Text

A little art about a headcanon of mine for Dragon and Sabo, and a little fanfic about it under the cut

"Dragon-san," a familiar voice, Sabo's voice came knocking from the door of the cluttered office. Dragon perked up, putting down the pen he's writing with- just a follow up rough plan for the revolutionary's next strike.

The door was opened and there was Sabo with a bleeding arm. Instinctively, Dragon reached for the cabinet on his desk, pulling it open to grab for a roll of bandages and a bottle of antiseptic.

Sabo sat in front of Dragon, reaching out his roughed-up arm, his face not showing a trace of pain. (Dragon always knew the surges beneath his mask anyways.)

Dragon sighed as he saw the gnarly wound on Sabo's arm. The boy had a knack on being risky, sometimes even too keen on self sacrifice. Even though being a revolutionary always costed a price, Dragon couldn't help but worry about Sabo's knacks.

"I got a little reckless with my plans, " Sabo offered a little charming smile to Dragon (cut out the reprimands just this time?)

"I always told you to be careful. You're too good to lose, " Dragon said (again, Sabo?).

Sabo offered another cheeky smile, "Next time," he said, as if Dragon never feared for his name written on the list of fallen revolutionaries in a mission report.

When Sabo first arrived in Baltigo, still wrapped with bandages all over, not even able to move his wounded limbs freely, he would only turn to Dragon to replace his bandages, any nurses who tried to replace it would only make him flinch violently.

Dragon tapped a cotton smeared with antiseptic liquid on his arm, following it up with the roll of bandages. Soon, after falling into the familiar act of wrapping Sabo's wounds, Dragon couldn't resist the nostalgia that went flying right to his head.

But of course, they understood (despite being concerned) , that Sabo was a child, a child that had no one familiar except for Dragon in an unfamiliar, new building far far away from his home island.

When his burns healed, and when he finally got to trust the nurses, it still became a habit. He would knock on Dragon's door or tug at his coat, show his wounds, and Dragon would pull out his cabinet and fish out a bottle of antiseptic liquid and some bandages. And there it was, a repeating pattern of tapping a cotton smeared with the antiseptic against Sabo's wounds and wrapping it up with soft bandages.

Dragon always thought of it as a comforting habit.

It was not rare that he would receive reports about his fallen men, people that had died for his own cause. And being here, bandaging Sabo, feeling the warmth of his skin, reminded Dragon that his Chief of Staff, his son, was still here, still alive. Still able to go knock on Dragon's office and offer a smile and a wound.

Sabo's small hiss of pain suddenly brought Dragon abruptly out of his daze. He softened his pace and grip, finishing wrapping Sabo's arm with tying the end, cutting the excess bandage with a small pair of scissors.

"Thank you, Dragon-san, " Sabo smiled, softly.

Dragon couldn't resist reaching his hand out and ruffling Sabo's hair, "Be careful next time," he warned.

Sabo's smile turned into a grin, "This time is just a slip up. "

Dragon couldn't help but smile back. Thin, but soft with fondness for his son sitting in front of him. He pulled his hand out of Sabo's locks of blonde and hope that tomorrow, his name wouldn't be written on the list of the fallen.

#phew that's a good writing warm up #a sweet headcanon i had #anyways dragon is sabo's father figure and i refuse to believe otherwise #btw fun fact when i wrote this my body was screaming at me DRINK WATER!!! 👉💧💧❗❗but i was so engrossed in writing this #that i actively ignored myself tying to keep myself alive #revolutionary sabo #one piece #one piece fanart #one piece art #one piece fanfiction #sabo headcanons #one piece headcanons #monkey d dragon #revolutionary dragon #op fanfic

133 notes · View notes

ejunkiet · 10 months

Text

60% of writing is daydreaming, 30% is editing, and 10% is getting words on the damn page omg

#can you tell that I just spent a few hours working on original projects #I love these projects. I really do.#am i stretching myself in news way? YES #nearly at 20k with the not-novel with kinky werewolves #short story in the same verse has hit 5k... will end at 10k min.#with a possibility to become a novella #but I REFUSE #but what I did today? mostly character work dhjafsdf #but!! tomorrow!!#gonna finish up a pain in the ass chapter and get back to writing the fun bit #SMUT #ALL THE SMUT #tmi

263 notes · View notes

spitinsideme · 3 months

Note

They say you can tell a lot bout an artist by the way they draw themselves how do you draw yourself spitzy if you don’t mind me asking?

i have had limr one lther person ask me to draw myself so bere !!! me .. im just a happy jolly gay girl honestly with a los4r fashion sense im nkt too special i am literally rvery gay girl whos a loser boyfriend

#going to writr little facts aboit myself whatever #my handwriting is actually shit it takes me likr so long to write the dialogur #becaude i keep on wroting it teerrible #my college has asled me to write with a laptop for exams #they literally camt read it #i refuse to ise a laptip idont care i fucking HATE typing on laptops #i also never take off my coat #it was omce lime 30 degrees celsiys on emgland and i was MELTING #woth my coat on becauze i refuse to take that shit off #i likr rock congs !!! honestly any song with shouting ill like #i limr sex songs also !! my playlost has likr 3000 songs and most of those songs are just moaning #also hige fan of britney spears i knoe the lyrocs to ALL HER SONGS i mean EVRRY SINGLE ONE i know the lyrics #by heart

130 notes · View notes

ender1821 · 5 months

Text

i am in so much pain

(more proper shiny duo screenshots later, but these two scenes…god i am unwell)

#life series spoilers #secret life spoilers #traffic smp spoilers #THEY DIDNT WANT TO KILL EACH OTHER. THEY DIDNT.#SECRET LIFE SHINYDUO IS SOMETHING ELSE MAN #pearlescentmoon #geminitay #secret life smp #trafficblr #mcyt #shiny duo #shinyduo #i refuse to call them hump duo no thank you martyn #everyone place your bets on when i fail to restrain myself and write a shinyduo finale

116 notes · View notes

apoptoses · 1 year

Text

Armand lived in Venice during the absolute sluttiest period for mens’ clothes and I gotta talk about it.

Anne constantly used Botticelli as a reference for clothes (who was at his peak in the 1470s/1480s) but Armand was in Florence when Savonarola died, which puts him in Venice the late 1490′s. Fashion was moving fast, there was a big moral panic over society falling apart and becoming too secular, and in Venice it was time to let your inner ho out.

The look: Short. Tight. Made of as many expensive scraps as possible.

Let’s get into it.

The words used to describe clothes in TVA have zero basis in reality but were probably chosen because the average reader can picture a tunic easier than they can suss out what a cioppa was. So for quick reference:

Shift: a shirt (made out of linen, unless you want Armand to be the stinkiest boy in Italy. Shirts needed to be white, which meant they were bleached with piss, and ammonia eats away silk. So he could not have worn a silk shirt unless it was never going to be washed and he was happy to run around with pit stains, which would have been horrible). Considered an underwear layer.

Doublet: the renaissance equivalent of your shirt. Wool or silk, either is fine.

Cioppa: a pleated ‘tunic’ worn over your doublet, always sleeveless. Wool or silk.

Gamurra: your coat. Wool or silk.

Hose: pants, always made of wool flannel

So most folks reading probably picture Armand in something like this, ala Botticelli’s time:

Long cioppa, down mid thigh or to the knee, puffy sleeved doublet, not too risque. But this is like 25 years out of date by Armand’s time, and when he goes shopping it’s with a bunch of teenage boys with Daddy’s credit card. Marius, with his ever present Botticelli hard on, might have had them wear this stuff sometimes but this is not what a fashionable boy at the time would go out and buy himself.

Now the dude on the right here:

This is the look.

Doublet? Tight

Cioppa? Short

Ass? Out.

The entire point of the style was to show off your snatched waist and manly thighs and boy did the Venetians do just that.

Also doublets by this period were basically scraps of fabric tied together to show as much shirt as possible. Which was scandalous because your shirt is your underwear, so running around like this was the renaissance equivalent of wearing a sheer shirt with your bright pink bra exposed.

As a little rich boy and Master’s favorite, Armand would have been able to afford the finest linen, so sheer it would have been nearly see-through. Which makes a helluva statement when your doublet was split down the front like this:

His hose would be bias cut wool flannel for maximum stretch and maximum ass sculpting. Until the later 15th century hose were just thigh high stockings, and your doublet had to be long enough to cover your underwear. Now that doublets were being worn cut off at the waist hose had to be joined like modern pants. But how did you keep your junk safely in the trunk?

Enter the pre-cursor to the codpiece, which I mentally refer to as The Dick Flap:

This was a little triangle of fabric, shaped to hold your goods. It tied to the waist at each upper corner. Hose were so tight you couldn’t wear underwear (!) so you just had to tie your flap tight and go about your day. Like the modern zipper, it made for easy access (do with that info what you will)

This was the first time in European history that men just ran around with their full crotch emphasized and on display, so having your doublet so short it just all hangs out was both sexy and shocking to people.

But how did these pants stay up, you wonder?

Your pants would be tied to the hem of your doublet. Which meant that every day, Armand had to have someone lace him into his super tight clothes. I personally headcanon that he and Riccardo helped each other get dressed every day while he was mortal but you can feel your own fantasy on that one.

Another fun trend during the period was having your family emblem or a symbol of your trade embroidered on the sleeve of your gamurra:

Which Marius would have taken full advantage of, and put his fleur de lis in pure gold thread on every gamurra Armand had.

Here’s some more fashion fit pics just for fun:

Fleur de lis branding on the gamurra and the hose? Marius would have been into it.

The tied on sleeves! The shift pulled out of every seam! The renaissance man ass everywhere!

A plump and juicy young man indeed.

Anyways I hope this was useful or inspirational, or at least makes your next reread of the Vampire Armand more fun. Because the clothing descriptions in there don’t even begin to touch the painted on fashion fantasy that was going on in 1490s Venice.

(also if anyone really, really wants to see details on what Armand would have seen when he put on his clothes, I’m making a 1490s fit with all historically correct methods right now and I can post some of that if there’s interest)

#is it any surprise every living being in venice wanted to bang it out with amadeo when he was wearing all of *that*?#this is probably the nerdiest and most pedantic thing i will ever post #i refuse to feel shame #i hope this inspires some really slutty fanart #or some fic of someone lacing armand into his clothes #i need to edit my lestat/armand fic or i'd just write it myself lmao #armand #marius de romanus #the vampire armand #the vampire chronicles

523 notes · View notes

chrollohearttags · 3 months

Text

my whole YouTube feed is filled with videos about the Stanley cup/Sephora kid thing and maybe bc I haven’t used tiktok in months but I’m so lost as to why everybody, including the kids themselves is being blamed for this problem lmao.

#there’s only one enemy and that’s capitalism/consumerism #not to mention the parents who think being an ‘ipad kid’ is cute and quirky bc they don’t want to raise their kids beyond the baby stage #like why are you mad at an influencer who’s job it is to sell a product for not monitoring if ur children are watching #that beauty influencer is not selling to them or for them #they’re a business + brand marketing to other ppl their age #people who can actually afford the products #not somebody who barely has lunch money less known 3 bands to drop on drunk elephant #like I have so many young cousins/kids in my neighborhood who are being brought up this way + it’s the internet’s fault always #not the fact that their parents don’t do anything #and what gets me is that somebody like me who’s made content online like cosplay/anime or even writing fanfic #has to worry about censoring myself for some brat I’m not even thinking abt #and it hurts creatives who are just looking for an escape #when I’m reality the only problem is that these parents are lazy and expect some random youtuber to teach their kids the things they refuse #it takes a village yes but at the end of the day that responsibility lies on the person who birthed them #I’m sorry #cherry chats 🍒

41 notes · View notes

loptrcoptr · 3 months

Text

Your “my god how out of touch am I” moment of the day is: I keep getting comments on this fic I’m writing that are like “worth waiting for the update”, “this was worth the wait” and I’m so confused because I have been posting chapters… every ten days at most? what wait, that’s a fast schedule, I thought! And the chapters are between 5k and 7k words each! Each! The fifth chapter is currently sitting pretty at 10 fucking k so I’ll probably have to split it in half…

But I’m dying over this I think it is wild lol. Do people not remember what it was like to have fics that updated every six months, if that, for nearly a decade? Is this something no one else remembers? Have we gotten so into instant gratification culture that waiting a week for 5 thousand words of fanfic is a long time?

This is all so wild to me so I guess I’ll go write another 5k about it lmfao

#am I that old like?? goddamn lmfao #meanwhile Ellis #I did this to myself obv the first chapter is 7k. I should have split it up because now I have locked myself into longer formats for each #chalter which means I am busting my balls writing everyday which is w I l d this was NOT on my 2024 bingo card at all #oh well I’m just along for the ride at this point and I refuse to slow my roll #this fic will top 35k by chapter 6 and it looks like my estimated 14 chapters is gonna end up being closer #to 17 - 20 if I’m gauging my outline correctly #who am I you guys what is happening this fucking cartoon has straight up bodied me #me: I never complete nanowrimo writing 30k in a month is hard #also me: I will write nearly 40k in fanfic in a month though out of nowhere for no reason

28 notes · View notes

becca-e-barnes · 1 year

Note

becca i can't believe i found your blog again!! i lost it a few months ago and ran into it yesterday <3 i loved reading the recent blurbs and it made me think of subby!bucky being a hardass but when in the bedroom he just wants you to humiliate the shit out of him

I haven't talked about how great subby men are in so long and I've really missed it 🤤 and I'm so glad you've enjoyed catching up on my stuff!!

I love to imagine the way a submissive Bucky lets himself give in to you entirely. If you want him to beg, he'll beg. If you ask him to degrade himself, he'll do that. He gets off on how pathetic he feels and realistically, he gets to the point where he thinks he might do anything just to please you.

And I think he'd adore having you take what you need from him, while almost minimising his pleasure because imagine grinding yourself on him without letting him inside you.

Your sex is so slick with evidence of your arousal and while it would be fun to just touch yourself and make him watch, the throbbing length of his thick erection tempts you. There's no harm in working him up, after all. He whines so much sweeter when he's desperate.

He's got no objections to you placing yourself on top of him. His dick is heavy, leaking precum and you almost consider abandoning your plan in favour of feeling him lose himself in your mouth instead. As delightful as that sounds though, you're desperate for some control and this is how you want to take it.

The first few rolls of your hips help to coat his length with your arousal. The glide gets easier with each pass and very soon you realise you can focus on the pleasure, rather than just the logistics.

The way his dick rubs your clit is heavenly. It's luxurious, almost decadent and nothing inside you feels guilty about being selfish. Not with Bucky's strong hands on your hips guiding your movements.

"You're so wet." He whispers, eyes wide, watching you in wonder. You're so lost in your own pleasure and he lives for it.

"I know." You don't feel embarrassed in the slightest. It's true after all. "This is all that dick of yours is good for. You're just a warm toy for me to use." Blunt fingernails bite into the meat of your hips at the same time your partner stifles a moan.

"Did you think you were anything more than that?" You notice his hesitation before he shakes his head. "Good. I don't even care if you cum tonight. In fact, I'd prefer you didn't. The mess is such an inconvenience but I hope you realise that I'm going to cum over and over. I think it's only fair. I'm being so kind to you, giving you something to dream of when you touch your pathetic cock later."

He can hardly control himself. This is everything he's been so desperate to hear and now he's getting it, it's almost a relief. He doesn't need to think for himself. He can give his body over to you, someone that he trusts and knows that by the end of the evening, he'll have cum until he physically can't anymore.

"I need to feel you." He whimpers, kissing your neck and shoulders. "Please. I miss being inside you."

His cheeks are blazing, flushed with arousal and embarrassment as one of your hands tangles in his hair, forcing his mouth off your skin. His eyes meet yours and your cunt flutters at the power you have over his man. He makes you feel desired and it's entirely addictive.

"Don't be stupid." Your voice is steady, carrying the confidence that he instills in you. "You don't deserve to fuck me. Why do you think I care about what you need? This isn't for you."

Lust bubbles over, his hands planted either side of your waist to stop them from trembling and although you know that you'll give in later, it's fun to watch him unravel at being denied what he needs most.

#asks answered <3 #anon #becca writes spice #subby!bucky #sub!bucky #I disappeared this week but I'm back now #awful few days and I'm glad they're over #I've been keeping myself as busy as possible #but in other news #who tf was going to tell me that sparkling ribena exists??#game changer #it's making me very happy rn #I'm in such a mood to play something spooky tonight #I was talking about Outlast 2 earlier and now I really want to play it again #but I'm terrible at horror games when I know I'm walking into a jumpscare #I refuse to go further when I know a jumpscare is coming #kinda defeats the purpose

218 notes · View notes