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burntoutdaydreamer · 6 months

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Things That May Be Causing Your Writer's Block- and How to Beat Them

I don't like the term 'Writer's Block' - not because it isn't real, but because the term is so vague that it's useless. Hundreds of issues all get lumped together under this one umbrella, making writer's block seem like this all-powerful boogeyman that's impossible to beat. Worse yet, it leaves people giving and receiving advice that is completely ineffective because people often don't realize they're talking about entirely different issues.

In my experience, the key to beating writer's block is figuring out what the block even is, so I put together a list of Actual Reasons why you may be struggling to write:

(note that any case of writer's block is usually a mix of two or more)

Perfectionism (most common)

What it looks like:

You write one sentence and spend the next hour googling "synonyms for ___"

Write. Erase. Write. Rewrite. Erase.

Should I even start writing this scene when I haven't figured out this one specific detail yet?

I hate everything I write

Cringing while writing

My first draft must be perfect, or else I'm a terrible writer

Things that can help:

Give yourself permission to suck

Keep in mind that nothing you write is going to be perfect, especially your first draft

Think of writing your first/early drafts not as writing, but sketching out a loose foundation to build upon later

People write multiple drafts for a reason: write now, edit later

Stop googling synonyms and save that for editing

Write with a pen to reduce temptation to erase

Embrace leaving blank spaces in your writing when you can't think of the right word, name, or detail

It's okay if your writing sucks. We all suck at some point. Embrace the growth mindset, and focus on getting words on a page

Lack of inspiration (easiest to fix)

What it looks like:

Head empty, no ideas

What do I even write about???

I don't have a plot, I just have an image

Want to write but no story to write

Things that can help:

Google writing prompts

If writing prompts aren't your thing, instead try thinking about what kind of tropes/genres/story elements you would like to try out

Instead of thinking about the story you would like to write, think about the story you would like to read, and write that

It's okay if you don't have a fully fleshed out story idea. Even if it's just an image or a line of dialogue, it's okay to write that. A story may or may not come out of it, but at least you got the creative juices flowing

Stop writing. Step away from your desk and let yourself naturally get inspired. Go for a walk, read a book, travel, play video games, research history, etc. Don't force ideas, but do open up your mind to them

If you're like me, world-building may come more naturally than plotting. Design the world first and let the story come later

Boredom/Understimulation (lost the flow)

What it looks like:

I know I should be writing but uugggghhhh I just can'tttttt

Writing words feels like pulling teeth

I started writing, but then I got bored/distracted

I enjoy the idea of writing, but the actual process makes me want to throw my laptop out the window

Things that can help:

Introduce stimulation: snacks, beverages, gum, music such as lo-fi, blankets, decorate your writing space, get a clickity-clackity keyboard, etc.

Add variety: write in a new location, try a new idea/different story for a day or so, switch up how you write (pen and paper vs. computer) or try voice recording or speech-to-text

Gamify writing: create an arbitrary challenge, such as trying to see how many words you can write in a set time and try to beat your high score

Find a writing buddy or join a writer's group

Give yourself a reward for every writing milestone, even if it's just writing a paragraph

Ask yourself whether this project you're working on is something you really want to be doing, and be honest with your answer

Intimidation/Procrastination (often related to perfectionism, but not always)

What it looks like:

I was feeling really motivated to write, but then I opened my laptop

I don't even know where to start

I love writing, but I can never seem to get started

I'll write tomorrow. I mean next week. Next month? Next month, I swear (doesn't write next month)

Can't find the time or energy

Unreasonable expectations (I should be able to write 10,000 words a day, right????)

Feeling discouraged and wondering why I'm even trying

Things that can help:

Follow the 2 min rule (or the 1 paragraph rule, which works better for me): whenever you sit down to write, tell yourself that you are only going to write for 2 minutes. If you feel like continuing once the 2 mins are up, go for it! Otherwise, stop. Force yourself to start but DO NOT force yourself to continue unless you feel like it. The more often you do this, the easier it will be to get started

Make getting started as easy as possible (i.e. minimize barriers: if getting up to get a notebook is stopping you from getting started, then write in the notes app of your phone)

Commit to a routine that will work for you. Baby steps are important here. Go with something that feels reasonable: every day, every other day, once a week, twice a week, and use cues to help you remember to start. If you chose a set time to write, just make sure that it's a time that feels natural to you- i.e. don't force yourself to writing at 9am every morning if you're not a morning person

Find a friend or a writing buddy you can trust and talk it out or share a piece of work you're proud of. Sometimes we just get a bit bogged down by criticism- either internal or external- and need a few words of encouragement

The Problem's Not You, It's Your Story (or Outline (or Process))

What it looks like:

I have no problems writing other scenes, it's just this scene

I started writing, but now I have no idea where I'm going

I don't think I'm doing this right

What's an outline?

Drowning in documents

This. Doesn't. Make. Sense. How do I get from this plot point to this one?!?!?! (this ColeyDoesThings quote lives in my head rent free cause BOY have I been there)

Things That Can Help:

Go back to the drawing board. Really try to get at the root of why a scene or story isn't working

A part of growing as a writer is learning when to kill your darlings. Sometimes you're trying to force an idea or scene that just doesn't work and you need to let it go

If you don't have an outline, write one

If you have an outline and it isn't working, rewrite it, or look up different ways to structure it

You may be trying to write as a pantser when you're really a plotter or vice versa. Experiment with different writing processes and see what feels most natural

Study story structures, starting with the three act structure. Even if you don't use them, you should know them

Check out Ellen Brock on YouTube. She's a professional novel editor who has a lot of advice on writing strategies for different types of writers

Also check out Savage Books on YouTube (another professional story editor) for advice on story structure and dialogue. Seriously, I cannot recommend this guy enough

Executive Dysfunction, Usually From ADHD/Autism

What it looks like:

Everything in boredom/understimulation

Everything in intimidation/procrastination

You have been diagnosed with and/or have symptoms of ADHD/Autism

Things that can help:

If you haven't already, seek a diagnosis or professional treatment

Hire an ADHD coach or other specialist that can help you work with your brain (I use Shimmer; feel free to DM me for a referral)

Seek out neurodiverse communities for advice and support

Try body doubling! There's lot's of free online body doubling websites out there for you to try. If social anxiety is a barrier, start out with writing streams such as katecavanaughwrites on Twitch

Be aware of any sensory barriers that may be getting in the way of you writing (such as an uncomfortable desk chair, harsh lighting, bad sounds)

And Lastly, Burnout, Depression, or Other Mental Illness

What it looks like:

You have symptoms of burnout or depression

Struggling with all things, not just writing

It's more than a lack of inspiration- the spark is just dead

Things that can help:

Forget writing for now. Focus on healing first.

Seek professional help

If you feel like it, use writing as a way to explore your feelings. It can take the form of journaling, poetry, an abstract reflection of your thoughts, narrative essays, or exploring what you're feeling through your fictional characters. The last two helped me rediscover my love of writing after I thought years of depression had killed it for good. Just don't force yourself to do so, and stop if it takes you to a darker place instead of feeling cathartic

#writing #creative writing #writer problems #writing advice #writing community #writing a book #writing problems #novel writing #on writing #writing tips #writing help #writers on tumblr #writers block #female writers #writers of tumblr #writers blog #adhd writer

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captainsparklefingers · 5 months

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When you haven't written anything in like 2 or 3 weeks, a sudden burst of creativity that ends with you writing 573 words and ending the scene you'd been working on in your crappy lil story feels like a victory.

...of course the burst doesn't last but hey, any progress is good progress, right? And maybe that'll make working on this easier, too. Today isn't over yet, maybe the juice will come back, and even if it doesn't, I'll take a win, no matter how small.

#writing #writing thoughts #I typically write my fanfic at work (look the library is pretty quiet)#(and I know for a fact my coworker is also doing stuff on ao3 while we're all at the desk so ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯)#and it's not as easy for me to get the juice flowing at home #even when I'm working from home #but I really want to get another of these Kingsley oneshots done before the end of the year #and then start on the next one #(this is him during the first trip to Nicodranas and him deciding he wants to be a pirate btw)#(it was gonna also be like his first few weeks at sea but I think that's gonna be another one instead)#(I need to do some boat research and figure out how to write Orly)#i was going somewhere with this. yes. anyway. I'm just happy I actually got something typed out.#I want to keep the momentum going #(partly because I know so many cool good writers and I wanna be able to at least have something new down you know)#I like writing. I do! I'm just bad at it from a technical standpoint #so today was a good day. tiny victories!

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qvrcll · 8 months

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the little things they do — luffy, zoro, nami, usopp & sanji.

summary: what do they do that makes you tick? that makes your heart glide through your chest and fester at your throat? that makes you glissade through hell itself, for the pleasure that it brings?

warnings: slight tension but no nsfw, fluff, nothing too bad!

notes: i started binge watching op / opla recently and decided to give i a go at writing for them! literally could not stop my fingers from typing this out. i’m a little new to op, so i hope you enjoy nonetheless :-] i promise im working on another part of college melodrama! i just wanted to try something new to get the brain juices flowing <3

sanji — moves you by your waist

sanji is keen with his women, but with you, he’s even more so. he’s gentle with it, even if he doesn’t need to be, because you make him aberrantly nervous, yet vilely confident in his etiquette — and today just cements it. it’s a boring day, and that prompts you to keep yourself stationed in the kitchen, where the rest of the straw hats find their own circles to situate themselves in (pure boredom, much to sanji’s dismay). the space is overcrowding and you’re halfway into disputing something that luffy insists is true fact, when sanji’s mellow palms come to gripe gently, carefully, at your waist — “excuse me, beautiful,” he mouths, fiendish and close to tasting his teeth in a marvellous grin as he effortlessly moves you, gingerly in so many ways, so he can reach the cabinet. you stutter out some convoluted version of a yes, o-of course! … safe to say, you can barely pay much consideration to luffy’s rebuttal as the tepedity of the cook’s hands lay in repetitive, illusive strokes against your hips for more times than one to just consider it an act to retrieve spices from a cabinet.

zoro — has one hand in your back pocket

he’s silent, mischievous with his antics. the upper part of your brain warns you of his skepticism, his cruelly hard body, his thick cheek. but your heart buds violently under what you can only assume is his effect. and it’s only furthered, when you are too close to him for comfort in this mini-party the crew has going on atop the going merry. you spot him nodding off in the corner of your eye, barely even knowing of his current footing in his chair as he slumps off. you urge him to go to bed, to ditch the drinks and gain a full night’s rest. but he shakes his head stiffly, his rather large hand slinking into the back pocket of your pants, where it lays dormant and so, so close to squeezing. “stay. this way, i won’t lose you.” you fail to yelp, because every nerve has been short-wired. twisted. re-twisted. re-wired. you can only stand close, fluxing against the warmth of his palm in your back pocket, as the faintest of reds colour his cheeks. a smile is welcome.

luffy — hugs your waist

being a captain is luffy’s share of the burden that comes with his quest of finding the one piece. he swears its easier than he allows it, but his body is different on days like these. days when he’s laying, tired and inaccessible to his usual bouts of energy. days like these, you can’t navigate around his lethargy, that comes slow and unmoving, similar to his resolve. his arms are around you, tight and interlocking further like a snake, his face buried against your stomach as he uses you as a stationary pillow. and you try to remind him that there are things you need to resume, things you need to conduct on the going merry, but when you turn to move, excuse yourself, he tightens, and his nose brushes against the sensitive skin beneath your button up in a nimble attempt to get you to stay still. “mmm… five—no, ten more minutes… i promise.”

nami — rests her head in the crook of your neck

it’s not an easy job sorting the day’s itinerary into tidy, little boxes and shelves, whilst the boat rocks to a cathartic beat around you. nami is here, to help you, but you are unable to shake off the tension wearing you down. your skin feels like paper and the bottom side of your shoes are sticky with sea water and your hands feel like rubber. you could rival luffy. it makes you feel awful, gets you hot and antsy so quickly, that nami blinks twice. of course, you apologise. you always have. but nami gets the directive before you do, and she reaches forward to hug you close to her chest. her nose tickles your neck and the space is living with her breath — the crook of your neck. “how about we stay like this for a bit, hm?” it’s more for your own means to find ground amongst your frustrations, to help you calm down, but nami has always loved being close to you. she always has.

usopp — holds you close to protect you

the great captain usopp. mighty warrior of the sea. well, not the great when the sea is colliding into rows of wood at maximum speed, which rocks the entire great vessel. you try to be less of a deterrence, try to find your own standing in the room you’re in with usopp, but your body is thrown across the room in one fell swoop, where you meet halfway into usopp’s chest. there’s a messy string of syllables that leave your lips, a creaky apology as you try to maintain some space between you (for the sake of your enervated heart), but he’s quicker. an ability derived from his sharp-shooter skills, you’re sure. his arm wraps around your waist and he allows you to crowd his chest. allows you to hold him like a pillar against the raging sea when it sends a rather alarming rock to the ship. “hold on tight — you’ve got nothing to worry about with captain usopp here. you hear?”

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece imagine #sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji x yn #zoro x reader #zoro x you #zoro x yn #nami x reader #nami x you #nami x yn #usopp x reader #usopp x you #usopp x yn #luffy x reader #luffy x you #luffy x yn

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bimbobaggins69 · 3 months

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˗ˏˋ𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 ˎˊ˗

bar-back e.m. x fem reader

blurb request: barback!eddie who let’s you try his newest concoctions on the house🤭 by @bcyhoods

authors note: thank you for participating in my little celebration and sending in your request(s), love. This was such a fun one to write and totally got away from me. Anyway, hope you like! <3

✷ ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+

A fog of smoke greets you as you walk through the double doors of the hideout, some run down dive bar in the middle of bum fuck nowhere, surrounded by cows and cornfields. You can’t help but grimace as each step you take is met with sticky resistance under the soles of your brand new loafers.

You take a seat at the bar, running your fingers over the skirt of your dress while you wait for the bartender to notice you and while you do, you take in every inch of him; in his black leather jacket, long brown waves and rings galore. He’s not like anything you’d ever seen outside of an MTV music video.

You’d spent your whole life around preppy assholes who thought polos and boat shoes were cool. They’d never be caught dead in that bad boy attire or much less in a sketchy place like this. That thought made your heart race with excitement, you set your sights on him and prayed your sweet charm and flirty banter would work in your favor.

“Uh, what can I get ya, sweetheart?” The smoothness of his voice instantly makes you want to clench your thighs, but you decide against it as your eyes meet his.

“Mmm, got anything sweet?” You ask with a flirty smile, you don’t want to lay it on thick too soon, just little by little for now.

“Sure, I can whip somethin’ up for you.” He says proudly, bending down to grab a whisky glass and a bottle of some fruity liquor. “Sorry, we don’t have anythin’ more fancy, we really only get beer and whisky orders here, if you can believe it.” He says sarcastically as he looks around the smoke filled bar, met with older working men and bikers who were, to no surprise holding an aforementioned beer or whisky.

“It’s fine.” You say, waving off his apology with a small swat to the smoky air. “So… aren’t you a little young to be bartending?” You ask curiously, also as an attempt to keep the conversation flowing.

“Ah, well you’d be right. I’m not quite a bartender yet, more of a bartenders assistant if you will. But…” he looks around with dramatic flare, making you giggle. “She’s not around at the moment, so looks like you’re stuck with me, princess.” The pet name sends a thrilling swoop straight to your stomach.

“Maybe I wanna be stuck with you.” The words are out of your mouth before you have a chance to fully process them and you immediately want nothing more than to swallow them back down. Your face heats up with humiliation when he raises an eyebrow that gets lost somewhere underneath his shaggy bangs.

He doesn’t even acknowledge your little slip up, instead he shakes his head as a smirk forms on his pretty lips, all the while pouring some red liquor and pineapple juice concoction into your glass. You both let the awkward silence flow around you, although the bar is anything but silent.

“So, tell me what ya’ think?” He beams, scooting the half filled glass closer towards you. The silver of his rings glint off of the yellow lighting and you can’t help but want to do some very shameful things to those fingers while he’s wearing those rings.

After the third concoction of his amazing fruity cocktails, you begin feeling that familiar burn in your chest. You’re nowhere near drunk just feeling loose, which was never good for the people around you.

“So, why haven’t I ever seen you around?” The metalhead asks as he takes a seat next to you at the bar, the bartender had since come back and told him he was off the hook for the rest of the night.

“Well, I was on my way to Loch Nora to visit family…but, well I got a flat and pulled into the parking lot and thought why the hell not? I could use a drink before I go see my uptight aunt and asshole cousin.” You ramble, before stopping yourself with another sip of your coconut cocktail.

“Uptight and asshole seems to be the theme in this shit town.” Eddie chuckles as he watches you between sips of his cheap beer.

“Uptight and asshole also seems to be the theme in my family.” You quip back with a small smile.

“Well I don’t know about uptight but asshole is definitely the theme in mine.” He smirks as he playfully pushes into you with his leather clad shoulder.

“Yeah, well you haven’t met assholes until you met the Harringtons.” You say back with a playful push of your own.

“Harrington? As in S-Steve Harrington?” He stammers, turning towards you in his bar stool as his eyes bore into yours, awaiting your answer.

“Oh, so you’re acquainted with king asshole?” A smile radiates across your face that makes Eddie noticeably gulp.

“Y-yeah, I guess you could say that. But, yeesh I think you might have me beat, sweetheart.” His laugh is boisterous and loud over whatever metal song is playing through the old speakers.

“Tell ya what, how bout I call you a tow truck and cab…and uh, these drinks are on the house since you were nice enough to be my taste tester.” The look on his face tells you he’s anything but ready to see you go. So of course, in your loose as a goose but extremely coherent state, you say something you never would’ve just an hour ago.

“Well, since you gave me something to taste, it’s only right if I do the same, no?” You throw in a flirty wink in a desperate plea to stick the landing of your intended innuendo.

What you didn’t realize was that he was in the midst of taking a sip of his beer and once those words slipped past your lips he immediately went into a violent coughing attack, his eyes wide as if in complete and utter disbelief while you swat at his back, trying to help him catch his breath.

Once his coughing died down, his eyes met yours again and the apples of cheeks bloomed a pretty pink, embarrassment clearly overtaking him.

“W-were you serious?” He asks, as if he was contemplating your proposal and that had the thrilling swoop vehemently returning to your stomach but now it traveled down towards your core as you clenched around nothing.

“Very.” Is all you say, but your eyebrow lifts in question before you begin to stand from your barstool.

Your hips sway seductively as you make your way to the dingy bathrooms, a smile overtaking your futures when you hear sneakers squeak behind you. You push the door open and are immediately met with graffiti riddled walls; it’s filthy, disgusting and so fucking thrilling!

You hear the door shut and lock behind you, and when you slowly turn you’re met with those warm brown eyes that you’ve been fawning over all night.

You don’t say another word, instead you take a few calculated steps over towards him before pushing him up against the graffitied door and smashing your lips into his, in an intense and desperate kiss. He moans into your mouth when your tongue sloppily glides against his, the kiss is all consuming and has you weak in the knees.

His lips pull away and you chase them with a whimper that has him smirking down at you with a cock sure grin.

“Up on the counter, princess. I want that taste you promised me.”

✷ LIKES, COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE SO APPRECIATED, LIKE YOU’D SERIOUSLY MAKE MY DAY (:

#— 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x female reader

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seattlesellie · 9 months

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Would you ever write something with gf Ellie first time ever degrading you?? :O I feel like she’d be so subtle at first and shy but then realizes you are into it and she starts going further and calling you a slut etc etcccc I feel like it’d be so hot to hear he all shy only to end up mocking reader🤓🤓

warnings: doing it while your parents are sleeping in the next room, little degradation, strap on sex ‘n bad writing.<3

full, stuffed— is exactly how you felt. when ellie has the 8 inch silicon cock snug inside of your gummy, tight walls, it’s hard to imagine you’ve ever been empty, or, well… that you ever will be again.

this rooms walls are paper thin, and you know your parents could hear if you dared to screech or to moan an octave higher. for ellie, for ellie it’s easier because she groans and pants, and she can do it quietly enough because she’s not the one getting railed deep inside her childhood bedroom. before you and ellie arrived, you made a promise. “no sex until were back home”, and hell, you even made her use her pinky.

but now— your juices are flowing down your thighs and her thighs and it all sticks together in a mushy, slippery little mess.

when ellie plunges herself deeper, hitting the bottom of your cervix with the light purple, mushroom like tip of her strap— you frantically yelp. “nggh… el— s’too deep i ‘cant—“, ellie shushes you immediately; brings her pointer finger to the plush of your lips and zips them together. “shh shh… fuck, gotta be quiet”,

she warns you. she cares. she’s such a sweetheart.

your panicked expression, the way your eyeballs nearly pop out when she pushes it in deeper on purpose, makes ellie know that she’s going to have to use more than just her finger to shut you up. another whine escapes your lips, and this time, ellie slaps her entire clammy palm on your quivering mouth. you attempt to peel it off with your hand, but ellie knows better. the other hand, her unused one— maneuvers itself down to your sensitive, split open pussy, and her thumb begins lightly circling your clit while maintaining her brutal pace. ellie knows that whenever she touches on the sensitive little nub for the first time— especially when it’s been neglected for over 3 minutes now, your body freezes entirely. so you don’t slap her hand away (you can’t), but you squeal out a muffled sound of her name. “mphhllie!”

you squealed. you actually squealed, and every time she slams it in deeper— you squeal again, like a puppys brand new chew toy, right out of the box.

for you, it’s absolutely embarrassing. it’s embarrassing because it’s only been 6 minutes thats she’d been fucking you for and she’s already rendered you a squeaky, squirming mess.

for ellie, however, it’s melodic. in fact, it makes ellie’s puffy clit throb and makes her toes curl up inside her white socks.

to you, you sound pathetic.

to ellie, you sound like a raging slut. most importantly, her raging slut. she won’t ever say it though, but god— how she wants to.

her thumbs beginning to slip, going side to side instead of her calculated circles, and she’s starting to lose it. you know she does, because everything she says comes out through gritted teeth. “i swear… you gotta keep it down, babe” she whispers, kissing you softly on your cheeks to calm you down. for some reason, that sweet action makes you squeeze around her strap and she swears she just felt it.

“almost there… huh, pretty girl? you almost there?”, you nod— and she nods with you. “mhm… you can give it to me… know you want to, shit— give it to me”. ellie slips out, slaps the tip on top of your aching clit and plunges herself deep again. this time, when you feel it slip back inside, you moan several octaves higher. ellie whimpers, because ellie can’t help it anymore, and then—

a door cracks open. not yours, thank god— but your parents’ bedroom door. you freeze, ellie freezes, and you can feel her heartbeat on top of your chest.

two light knocks on your door. “sweetheart, everything alright? i heard something” your father rasps, and it’s his sleepy voice that tells you he actually fell asleep but woke up because of your noises.

ellie shakes her head rapidly, pupils all blown out. “say something!” she whispers frantically. she’s still inside of you and when you mean to get her off, she accidentally falls on top of you and the strap buries itself inside deep. “gah—‘f ‘fine dad! don’t ‘c, come inside we’re studying!”

thankfully, he accepts it— and walks off.

leisurely, absolutely ignoring what had just happened, ellie slams into you in an awful, torturous, delicious slow pace. whenever she moves, your wet squelching sounds fill the air and it’s disgusting.

“this is… all your ‘f— fault!” you yelp, and ellie giggles. to that, you wrap your legs around her back and push her in deeper. the base of her strap grazes her clit and sends a shockwave through her body. she can’t move, paralyzed— so you move her yourself. she looks you in the eyes, and if she can’t use her body, she might as well use her mouth.

“shit, s’not my fault you sound like a slut” she murmurs. the nickname makes you squeeze around her girth and another sweet droplet of your slick runs down your thighs to the seam of your ass. you shut your eyes, trying to think of a clever comeback— maybe she’s the slut. all that comes out, is an incredibly silly sentence, one that makes ellie nearly cum from nothing. “you made me this… w— way”

that smile that’s plastered on her pretty, flushed face is triumphant. “made you a slut, huh?” she rasps, and you cry out— fuck, she thinks. you like this. “who’s slut?” she asks, it’s meaningless, it really is because she knows.

“your… oh fuck!— your slut”

“ellie’s slut?”

you hum, nearly reaching your orgasm as she nearly reaches hers as well. ellie’s thighs shake and her vision is blurry— but she needs to tell you this, so she does.

“be a fuckin’ slut, and cum on this dick”

not fuckdrunk ellie would never say this. sober ellie would never say this. but the ellie whos inside of you now, the ellie who’s slut you are— yeah, she’s gonna say it. more than once, too.

when it’s over, she turns to face you between aimless, hushed giggles.

“hey slut, get me some water? m’thirsty” you gasp, and the pillow you throw lands on her face and nearly breaks her nose. (<3)

#𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 anon 🎀#ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fanfiction

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chrollohearttags · 9 months

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writing silly prompts with my OTP so you don’t have to • part one

content warning: exactly as it says, voyeurism, exhibitionism, reverse cowgirl, squirting

📝: I cannot explain this even if I wanted to. Sometimes, I have a lightbulb in my head, constantly flickering and other times, it’s nothing more than wind and baked beans up here so I need help jogging my brain muscles and reviving my creative spark. Don’t get me wrong, I love you guys’ asks and I’ll get to them, as well as the commissions, I swear but I need to get my juices flowing again 🫶🏾

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Ahh! Shit…mmphm. Gonna make me come..”

“Go ahead, princess. Nut on this dick..better keep quiet though. You don’t want us to get caught..”

another peaceful Sunday stroll down South Beach’s Design District turned to a rather eventful outing. Of course, that was nothing out of the ordinary for the infamous couple. It wasn’t rare for the two of you to spend your very limited free time enjoying relaxing walks through the various shops in the heart of downtown..where you may have frequented your favorite stores and restaurants as a bit of routine in your very chaotic and ever changing schedules. It was the one constant that you could bet on in your hectic lives. However..as soothing as the mundane was sometimes…you both still craved that thrill. The excitement that came with doing something you had no business. That rush only grew tenfold when you considered the fact that you weren’t exactly inconspicuous..everyone in Miami and the world at this point knew EJ the Don and (y/n) (l/n). Everyone was looking for an excuse to photograph you two. So it was insane that you were so casually perched atop your man’s dick at a popular lounge on Ocean Drive; enjoying some semblance of privacy as you had rented out the rooftop area for yourselves but even so, if caught, you’d find yourselves front page on somebody’s blog. Right now, you just couldn’t be vexed to give a fuck. Instead…

“Fuck! I don’t care who sees, I just wanna keep—“

your words trailed off into a high pitched yelp as that tip poked the inner corner of your sensitive core. Being fucked up into like a jackhammer into concrete. A tattooed hand on your clothed tummy and inked fingers stroking your clit. All of this because you just had to wear..it. A regular, run of the mill sundress that you had probably gotten as part of PR from Fashion Nova or Shein a year ago and just decided to throw it on to combat this horrendous heat. And yet, it was getting your pussy pounded! Strutting around without so much as a thong on underneath, just in case the mood struck you. Of course, it didn’t take long for your husband to follow suit when saw the fat of that ass swaying from behind the clingy material and watched you bend over to retrieve something when that hem raised and that plump little cunt became visible..from there, neither of you could contain yourselves. Up and down with your legs propped onto the pool chair you went..rutting your hips in slow circular motions as you performed tricks on that dick. Smacking, wet noises filling the summer air. You were certain some attendee or waiter was lurking in the shadows, possibly jerking off or even filming you two but it didn’t even matter. Your only concern was coming all over him! That deep voice growling in your ear as he held you close to his chest and let you ride out your orgasm. Even shortly after, bending you over again so that he could see that ass moving against him. Shouting off expletives at each other..

“Give it to me! Fuck this pussy, daddy. Right there!..”

“Hold still, baby..gonna nut all in this shit!—“

before he could do so, you were already reaching a climatic high..clamping down on his shaft before springing up and spraying him with those sweet, divine juices. Groping one of your tits, Eren would cackle as he watched you come undone for him. Squirming all over the place with uncontrollable trembling from that powerful peak. You were still shooting out tiny streams of that squirt afterwards. Having been fucked so roughly with such impact but of course, it couldn’t be helped..

“Sorry, princess. You know what happens when you wear that shit around me. Can’t help myself..”

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bunji-enthusiast · 3 months

Note

Hope you're doing well!! Please take however long you need to get your creative juices flowing <333 may I order a Dogday recognizing Poppy's Angel is actually the former Playtime Co. employee he and many others came to love and cherish due to their kindness? The reader is THAT employee that others envy, many of the toys LOVES them and prefer to be taken care of by them.

Maybe the reader had found out the sinister nature of the company but is understandably afraid to speak up about it as they realized their old co-workers maybe weren't just fired or " quit " out of thin air after all... Perhaps something happened behind the scenes that made the reader " quits " ( Maybe they could be threatened but by a lot of pleading and bargaining, they're spared but has to keep their mouth shut and never come back, otherwise... )

The toys are devastated, angry and just lots of mixed emotions. The reader feeling more and more guilty as they venture through their once happy place and having to harm the ones they once swore to care for.

The rest is up to you! Please again, take care and take your time, all the best in everything <333

I'm So Sorry

Note || oh my hearttt the angstttt, lovely to write this as always. In the form of head canons if that is alright? ^^

WC || 1,035

Sypnosis || you knew otherwise, presumably what went on. You just didn’t mean to harm those around you.

Being aware of something most employees where not had dug you a thorough grave, you didn’t want to leave your beloved friends in the toy factory. A factory misconstrued on a basement of lies and futility you may as well be well over with, and bury it in the ground. Yet, bury in the ground they did.

Your superiors had learned of your knowledge of these things, and began sending letters. Bit by bit, they had only started off by threatening you; telling you to keep quiet. They didn’t want their precious reputation to be ruined by the likes of you. Still, you continued to stay, you didn’t want to leave your loved ones. All the friends you’ve come to love, eventually becoming like family for you.

You weren’t deaf nor blind to what the superiors at Playtime Co. do, quite literally you’d have to bandage your eyes or plug your ears to ignore all that was happening behind the scenes, you didn’t let it fall on deaf ears however. Eventually soon enough it was eating away at you to actually just quit, just straight up disappear from Playtime Co.’s eyes.

Among the many toys; Huggy, Kissy, Mommy, and Poppy, hell even CatNap began to wonder where you went. Why did you flat-out depart from working at the Factory so suddenly? One day you were visible and present, the next you had not shown up. Oddly enough they soon had gotten their answer when the Hour Of Joy had occurred, Huggy Wuggy had come across your paper of termination when he had taken upon himself in the act.

So long ago, that was a decade past you left that life behind. You really wished you would have granted them goodbyes before you had gone, yet it seemed you got that chance to do so when you received a paper in the mail that had appeared to be from your co-workers. Word for word you could remember reading, everyone thinks the staff disappeared ten years ago, we’re still here. Find the flower.

The only reason you even had to come back to the factory in the first place was because of the guilt easily overwhelming your logic, you needed answers. You needed to know what happened to your co-workers and all the toys you cared deeply for, yet you had an overwhelming suspicion you really knew what happened to all the staff in Playtime Co. you simply just weren’t present for it. Having technically already left.

Seeing Huggy Wuggy on the pedestal again brought back some memories for you, he was certainly a hoot. In a way, you really liked him along with the rest of the toys. He was certainly a unique one out of the few–especially along with Kissy Missy. You thought they were a cute pair together, Kissy always managed to calm his murderous tendencies and Huggy was always someone you can count on for a good hug if you ever had a bad day.

Killing is not something you would ever dare think of doing, it was simply not in your mind or blood to do so. So why did you have to resort to killing Huggy? You silently wept, having no time to grieve for him properly as you had to trudge on along to the flower.

Poppy was the last person (or toy, ahem) you expected to find in that case you came across. Now you find yourself in the game station, seeing her get pulled away like that right after she offered to give the code to you had you on the steels of your nerves, you were immediately very close to being in an angry mood.

Now you had to deal with Mommy’s antics, you felt for her, but you certainly wouldn’t want to go through the trouble of trying to get the code from Mommy. Least of all having to resort to killing her, as she would not listen to your words. Convincing her was impossible to do, trying to make her remember you was a whole different story.

Crap.

Why’d she have to go in a rage? Now she’s dead too, and what in the seven circles of hell did she mean by “HE’LL MAKE ME PART OF HIM! YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME!” You shudder when a mechanical hand comes to pull away Mommy’s corpse, you mentally make a note that is the Prototype. As you’ve come to learn the name after you had scavenged Elliot’s office.

Soon you learn what Mommy had meant, arguably enough you were angry that Poppy had derailed your only train to get out of Playtime Co. but your heart had ached too much to not finish what you started. Now CatNap was hunting you while you ran around in Playcare, you just never expected to see such an untimely sight that nobody should be put in.

DogDay was hurt, real bad. His legs were severed, he wasn’t long and limber like you remember him to be. His life seemed to be completely drained and sucked away from him, you wince when he moved, movement appeared to be harsh to even put energy into. Your heart bleeds for him, yet you are surprised when he actually recognizes you from before, all those years ago.

“Angel, you! Y-You're the one that cared for so many of us.” You nod, parental instinct already kicking in to free him from his belts from which he hung from. DogDay doesn’t deserve a fate like this, not then and especially not now. “You don’t need to, leave me here.”

“Oh hell no, you need to live.” You refute, shushing him before DogDay begins to protest. You sigh in relief once he finally is free, as selfish as it may be, he hadn’t ever attempted to kill you. You wanted someone with you that actually remembers you and doesn’t try to gun for you the moment you even step into the vicinity.

Gosh, you really hoped to get this over with. Guilt weighing heavily in mind as you had to kill so many toys, so many that you cared for.

At Least it meant to be in the name of self defense.

Right?

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime angst?#dogday poppy playtime #poppy playtime huggy #poppy playtime x reader #all the stuff

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bucksangel · 4 months

Text

don't worry, darling

pairing: avenger!bucky x civilian!reader

word count: 3.3k

summary: even though bucky is mostly healed, that doesn’t mean his nightmares go away. and a particular grueling mission brings back memories he’d rather forget.

warnings: angsttttt, hella fluff at the end though, hurt/comfort, talk of bucky’s trauma and abuse, brief mentions of murder of a hydra agent (he deserves it), nightmares, reader is here to love and comfort bucky, also civil war and everything after didn’t happen and they all live at the tower and everything is fine bc i said so

a/n: even though this does not contain smut, my blog is 18+ so minors dni. also i wanted to write something short and sweet to get my creative juices flowing and yet, as always, i managed to go overboard

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It started with a whimper, a small one. Barely detectable if you weren’t already awake and snuggled against Bucky’s body. He’s lying on his side facing you with you mirroring his position, arms wrapped around each other and your head tucked into his chest. You’ve been having a hard time sleeping for the last week and a half due to Bucky being gone on a mission that didn’t allow him to contact you at all. Your restless nights were mostly due to worrying over your boyfriend’s safety, something you always do whenever he leaves. It was worse this time around, though.

It was a day before he was supposed to leave, and you knew you weren’t supposed to listen in on other people’s private conversations, but you just couldn’t help yourself. You’d come home early from work one day to find Steve and Bucky in your shared home office, stopping outside the door and getting ready to knock when you overheard something about an upcoming mission. It seemed pretty important so you decided not to interrupt them, though you couldn’t force yourself to walk away.

You’re never allowed to know anything about what Bucky’s missions entail, and some part of you wanted to listen in on their conversation to hopefully ease any worries about what might be happening to him since you’ll have a general idea of where they’re going and what they’re doing.

According to Steve, although it was going to be a four-day mission, it was supposed to be relatively simple. Or, it would’ve been simple if it weren’t for the fact that the building they were being sent to scout was an old Hydra facility somewhere in Russia. The same Hydra facility where Bucky was held captive.

Upon hearing this piece of information you wanted to barge into the room and tell Steve off for letting Bucky be a part of this mission. It’s been nearly five years since he escaped and Bucky has mostly readjusted, has recovered from his trauma as much as one can after being tortured for decades. And you’ll be damned if anything jeopardizes that progress.

But you’d also overheard Bucky agreeing with the plans, helping Steve strategize, and going over all the information that needed to be obtained. And it wasn’t your place to tell Bucky what he could and couldn’t do. As much as you wanted to demand that he not go, he was his own person. And if he thought he could handle this mission then you’d have to find a way to support him.

The four-day mission turned into eight and by the sixth day with still no contact, you’d marched into the tower and demanded Fury call you with any and all updates he received. He said he would in a tone that made you believe he wouldn’t give you every detail, but it did help reassure you that if anything happened to Bucky then you wouldn’t be kept totally in the dark. It was nerve-wracking in the worst way, obsessively thinking over what Bucky could be going through - physically and mentally.

But on the eighth day, Fury had called you on your lunch break at work to tell you that Bucky was on his way back to the Tower and would probably be back at your apartment by early evening after the briefing and check-up in the medical wing.

All of your nerves and anxieties that built up over the last week were immediately replaced with relief flooding your body, your heart finally unclenching at knowing that Bucky would be back in a few short hours. One good thing about your job is that you don’t technically need to be in the office every day. As long as you get your work done you’re pretty much given free rein to leave whenever you want, and you’d finished your stack of paperwork maybe fifteen minutes before the phone call.

You gathered up your things quickly and stopped by your boss's office to wish her a good weekend, then made your way to your car to head home. Your heartbeat was increasing ever so slightly the closer you got to your apartment, and you had to remind yourself to focus on driving instead of daydreaming of being back in Bucky’s arms.

When you did finally get home, you made quick work of cleaning the entire apartment; changing your bed sheets, doing laundry, then pulling out food from the fridge to make dinner. You’d actually just gotten the chicken out of the oven when the front door opened, and your excitement at finally seeing your boyfriend again forced you to run out of the kitchen and down the hall. But you stopped a good six feet from the door, standing still at seeing Bucky’s bruised face and scabbed knuckles.

“Bucky?” You asked softly, finally noticing the spacey look in his eyes, the way they seemed to be glazed over.

Bucky smiled at you, though it was more of a grimace, and you could tell it was mostly forced but he still wanted to acknowledge you. He approached you slowly, and you stood still so you would not startle him - he just seemed so on edge. He stopped not even a foot away from you, had stared down at you with a look in his eyes you hoped you would never see again - it was such an empty gaze, almost emotionless. There was no life in his eyes. It didn’t feel like the dead gaze was directed at you specifically, it was more like Bucky just couldn’t muster up any emotion at all.

That’s when you knew. Something went wrong.

Slowly, he brought up his right hand and placed it on the back of your head, tilting it up so he could really look at you, letting his gaze linger on your lips. Instead of kissing them, he leans forward to press a kiss on your forehead, wrapping his left arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest. He didn’t speak as he slowly tucked you into his body, and you didn’t dare break the silence either, you simply wrapped your arms around his body as well, squeezing him tightly to let him know that you were there. You were there for him - physically, mentally, and emotionally, and you needed him to know that.

After maybe five minutes of no one speaking, of simply standing in the front hallway embracing each other, you decided to finally say something.

“I made dinner,” You whispered, running one of your hands up and down Bucky’s back. You pulled your head off of his chest but didn’t loosen your hold. “Chicken and mashed potatoes. I even made apple pie.”

Bucky’s mouth twitched again, and his attempted smile felt a little more genuine this time. His glassy eyes were filled with tears now, and he seemed oh so close to crying. You’d never seen him like this before, he was always happy, and smiling, even on days when he wouldn’t say it but you knew he still resented himself for his time as the soldier he would indulge in his hobbies to help him cope. But you’ve never seen him shut down before, and this is what this felt like.

You weren’t too sure how to help him, how to comfort him. But you had an inkling he might need some time to himself.

“How about you go shower and I can put the food away for later,” You said with a soft smile, speaking up again before Bucky had the chance to feel guilty, “I ate a couple of hours ago, I’m fine baby. Go shower.”

You lifted up on your toes and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, letting him squeeze you to his chest one more time before he released you, slumping off down the hall to the bathroom.

That was two days ago, and Bucky hasn’t spoken more than a few words at a time since. Now, it’s not like he’s avoiding you, he’s actually a little more clingy than he normally is. You can tell he wants to say something, to tell you what had happened, he just doesn’t know how. He hasn’t told you everything about what happened to him during his time as the soldier, but you know enough and don’t push him to say anything he doesn’t want to.

At night, Bucky will go out onto the small terrace outside of your apartment and stare up at the stars for hours. You don’t sit with him for all of it, just for about one hour - cuddled close to his body and talking softly and mindlessly about anything you can think of, anything that might help Bucky open up. Then, around nine or ten, you’ll give him a lingering kiss on his cheek, one on his temple, and one final kiss on his lips before going to bed, letting Bucky be alone with himself and his thoughts.

Tonight, though, Bucky’s decided to climb into bed with you soon after dinner. You both showered together, washing each other’s bodies and sharing a few lingering kisses under the spray of the shower head. You didn’t go any further, but you did make sure to spend extra time massaging his shoulders and back, placing kisses everywhere you could reach.

It’s one in the morning now, and you hear another whimper. Bucky shifts beside you, tightening his hold on you ever so slightly. Another whine.

“Bucky?” You whisper, careful to not disturb the silence too much.

He responds with a mumbled ‘please’. Then, ‘no’.

“Buck? Baby?” You say a little louder, shifting in his hold but not able to move much due to his arms being wound around your body.

He shudders, pulling you further into him as his breathing picks up. He’s having a nightmare. Now, despite him being mostly healed, he still does have nightmares. They’ve lessened over the years, but they never truly go away.

When he’s in this mindset, you’re careful not to move too much and startle him awake. So, you simply shimmy your arm from under one of his so you can push on his chest and gently ease him onto his back. It takes a little more force than you’d like, but you’re eventually able to lay him flat on his back and untangle your body from his.

“Baby?” You whisper a little louder, placing your hand on the side of his face and rubbing your thumb along his cheekbone. “Bucky.”

He groans; louder, desperate. He’s in pain. You run your hand down his face, down his neck, then land on his chest, right above his heart. It’s increased rapidly, and you can see beads of sweat coat his forehead.

“Bucky.” Your voice is pleading, and you push on his chest a little, now hoping to startle him awake before it gets worse. You don’t want to keep him in this nightmare, so you shake him again.

“Bu-” You’re stopped short by him gasping, his eyes shooting open and his body lifting off the bed slightly as he wakes up. Relief fills your body, and you sigh gratefully. You hate when he’s in pain, whether physical or mental, but you hate not being able to do anything about it even more.

Bucky doesn’t move right away, he squeezes his eyes closed and clenches his fists momentarily. Then, when you place your hand on his cheek, his whole body goes limp, relaxing into the sheets under your touch.

“Baby,” He whispers hoarsely. “I…” He chokes back a sob, and you’re quick to adjust yourselves so you’re laying on your back and he’s laying almost entirely on top of you with his head on your chest right above your heart. He starts crying then, really crying. His arms wrap themselves around your midsection, and you wrap yours around his body as well, cradling him close to you.

“It’s okay, darling. It’s okay, you’re okay,” You mumble into his ear, pressing kisses anywhere you can reach. You continue cooing at him, whispering reassurances and declarations of love until his cries taper off into small whimpers and sniffles. You’re really worried now. Yeah, Bucky isn’t shy about expressing his emotions, and you’ve held him after nightmares and through the aftermath of difficult missions when he comes home disheartened. But he’s never been so vulnerable, and you want nothing more than to hold him close and protect him from everything bad in the world.

Silence envelops the both of you for a while. You want to allow Bucky to speak when he’s ready. And he does so after a couple of minutes.

“There was an agent; Alix, I think. I - I don’t remember his last name, but…” Bucky pauses, and you take the opportunity to place a kiss on his forehead. “For the last five or so years of me being… him, Alix was there. He’d… Any time I failed a mission, he’d be there. Out of all the Hydra agents that I’ve ever come in contact with… his punishments were the worst.” He pauses again, sniffling softly and nuzzling his face into your chest.

“I’m so sorry, darling,” You whisper, bringing your hand up to his hair so you can run your fingers through his locks. Bucky shakes his head softly, pressing a kiss to your collarbone.

“He was there. When Steve, Natasha, and I went to the facility last week, Alix was there. And he… I don’t know. I saw him and I just went blank, my mind shut off. I know I promised I wouldn’t kill anymore, I know. I just… He just hurt me so fucking much.”

Bucky starts crying again, and you have to force yourself not to cry as well. You want to be here to support him, not break down as well because then he’ll feel guilty. He always says you’re one of the most important people in his life - Steve obviously being another one - and that seeing you cry makes him want to go feral on whoever or whatever made you sad.

“I had to,” he says, muffled by his face tucking into your neck. “I just. I couldn’t not. I thought I was ready, I thought I could go there and be okay. But I wasn’t. I… He broke me.” Bucky trails off, sighing heavily before he goes quiet again, giving you time to process this information.

“Baby,” You say, prompting Bucky to hum in acknowledgment. “Can you look at me, please?”

You know it takes a lot of effort, but he does. Bucky lifts his head from your neck, looking into your eyes with overwhelming sorrow. Bending your head, you place a quick kiss on his lips.

“This might sound odd, but I’m proud of you. You thought you were healed enough to do it, you went through the planning and probably had to hype yourself up a lot to even agree to the mission. And that’s immense progress. The fact that you even felt ready, even if you ultimately weren’t, you pushed through it and finished the mission. And that’s something to be celebrated. Sometimes recovery can be set back by certain events, but that doesn’t mean that everything else you’ve accomplished is set back as well. You tried, and I’m proud of you.”

With that said, you give Bucky another kiss, lingering a little longer this time before pulling back and holding his gaze.

“And I know you promised to not kill anyone, but I don’t blame you in this situation. I don’t know what this says about me, but even though I don’t know exactly how you killed him, and I don’t think I want to honestly, I do know he deserved far worse than what you gave him. He’s just lucky I wasn’t there because I genuinely don’t know what I would have done if I saw him.”

Bucky’s mouth forms into the smallest of smiles, and you can’t help but want to burn the world to the ground if it means he was protected from the harm it brought him.

“I know you’re the man, and that, stereotypically, men are supposed to be the protector, the provider, but you also deserve to be protected, to have everything you could ever want. And I want to give that to you. I know you are your own person and you do a damn well job of taking care of yourself, but I also want to take care of you. I want to protect you from everything bad, everything that’s ever harmed you, and everything that could potentially harm you in the future.”

You place a kiss on his forehead, squeezing the arm that’s around his upper back to hug him tighter to you.

“You’re the love of my life, baby. Now and forever.”

Bucky shudders slightly, leaning up to kiss your jaw, then one to your cheek, one on the corner of your mouth, and one final kiss to your lips. Your hand continues to run through his hair, tugging at it slightly, causing your boyfriend to sigh in contentment and tighten his hold on you as well. You’re locked in the embrace for a long moment, his lips gliding over yours as the kiss remains relatively chaste. But then, he pulls away.

“Darling,” He says, and for the first time in two days, he finally looks like he’s getting back to his old self. “I - I don’t think I’m ready to talk about everything that happened during the mission right now, I kind of just want to hear you talk so I can get my mind off of it for a little if that’s okay?” He looks a bit nervous asking for that, but you’re quick to nod, offering him a smile of your own. Bucky smiles a tad bit wider and removes one of his arms from around your body so he can slowly reach up and take hold of your hand that’s still running through his hair. Stubble tickles your palm as Bucky presses his lips there, then turns his gaze up to look into your eyes.

“I can’t even describe how much I love you. It scares me, sometimes, the things I would do for you. I need you to know that I will do everything I can to make you as happy and safe as you make me. You’re just… you’re incredible. And I can’t thank you enough for how much you’ve helped me over the past two years that we’ve been together, even the entire year before we started dating when we were just friends.”

His eyes start watering for a whole other reason now. Bucky looks so damn in love that you’d think it hurt, and you would know because that’s exactly how you feel about him.

“I - I know we haven’t talked about it, and I don’t even have a ring, but I can’t ever imagine loving anyone as much as I love you. I’m devoted to you, now and forever. I don’t know how you feel, but if you’re ever willing to…” He pauses, and you feel your heartbeat increase rapidly, a sudden happiness flooding your body.

“If I were to one day ask you to marry me, would you say yes?”

You’ve never nodded faster in your life, nor have you ever said ‘yes’ so quickly to anything Bucky has asked.

The large sigh of relief your boyfriend lets out lets you know he’s probably been thinking about this for a while, and you would swear your heart is about to burst from how much you love this man as you hold him close to your chest and place absentminded kisses on his forehead, cheeks, lips, the top of his head.

Everything stays silent for a few minutes, letting the conversation taper off. That is, until Bucky puts his head back on your shoulder, lacing his fingers with yours and bringing your hands up to kiss your knuckles.

“Can you talk to me?”

Humming in agreement, you run your hand that’s still on his back up and down in a soothing motion.

“Do you want to hear about how Sam almost broke his arm last week?��

#let me know what y'all think!!#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fic rec #bucky barns #james barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barns imagine #bucky barns x reader #my writing #my stuff

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storiesforthemoonchild · 5 months

Text

Say It | Alessia Russo x Reader

Finally posting this because I will have the distraction of Friendsgiving. Nervous so be nice. First time writing a fic.

Warnings: alcohol, soft smut... kinda toxic kinda fluffy idk

The loud and incessant knocking jolted Alessia from her sleep. She looked around trying to gather herself only to jump when the pounding began again. She knew it was you, for the last 4 months it was always you.

She kicks back the covers and makes her way through her flat, the knocking finally ceasing. She peeks at the time on the stove on her way, 2:13am. Looking through the hole in the door and she is met with the sight of you slumping against her door frame.

“It’s 2am,” is the unimpressed greeting she gives you.

However, she can’t help but match the smile that breaks across your face from seeing her. “Lessi, I missed you,” you confess, moving to wrap your arms around her.

Alessia hates that she melts into your touch. Instinctively folding herself into you, face buried in your neck she places a few soft kisses before pulling away. Even after being woken up at 2am all she wants is to be in your presence. She wants to be consumed by your scent, your hands, your voice, and everything else that makes you, you.

The last six months Alessia has been falling for you through secret meetups, phone calls and first times. You come from different worlds and she doesn’t fully understand your life but it doesn’t matter when it’s just you and her. You’re different when you’re laid up in her flat rather than surrounded by people in a packed club. You’re gentle with her, caring, and soft as you let the cold exterior you present vanish in those moments.

Alessia Russo is everything good in this world, and your worlds should have never collided. The party girl popstar from New York and the English footballer.

“Come on then,” Alessia sighs with a smile tugging at her mouth. This part was routine. She would usher you to the kitchen, pour you a glass of water and observe you. Study you trying to see what kind of night she was in for.

There were three different moods you usually showed up to her house in, but all including a certain level of intoxication no matter the time of day. It was something she noticed early on in getting to know you. A glass of some form of alcohol is always an extension of your hand. A shot of whiskey in your morning coffee, a beer over the football match, or a glass of wine with dinner. You would say it’s to ease the stress, which she understood but she hates it. There were moments of course when you were sober but they came few and far between. She didn’t push you, she accepted the ways you cope with the difficulties your life came with.

The first mood you’d arrive in was grumpy. While not her favorite she adored grumpy you. On those days you hadn’t drank too much, a glass or two of something to get the creative juices flowing you would tell her. Usually grumpy after a frustrating studio session where you couldn’t play a chord right or get a chorus in the right key.

“Tell me what you need,” she asked the first time.

“Nothing. I just wanted to be with you Less. You make me feel better,” you told her perched on her kitchen counter with your head hanging low in defeat.

A blush covered her cheeks as she wiggled her way between your legs before whispering, “say it again.”

You look up a smile threatening to creep through, "I only want you. I always want to be with you Alessia.”

“I’m yours (y/n).” It was true, but not official. You both loved whispering sweet nothings and words of assurance in the darkness of her flat but never mentioned a word of it by sunrise. “Let's go to bed.”

That’s all grumpy you needed, words of affirmation and head rubs to soothe the frustration while wrapped up in one of her Arsenal jumpers. You wouldn't want Alessia to move even an inch away from you after you finally got cuddled up in bed.

Alessia’s least favorite was when you showed up inconsolable after way too many drinks from your night out with one Leah Williamson. Those nights she contemplates if she should’ve listened to Leah’s warnings to stay away from you. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be there for you, she did, but you always broke her heart a little on those nights. She hated seeing you so broken and lost with barely any control over your body. It amazed her how you always found your way to her even then. Those nights always ended in a gut wrenching confession before you dozed to add to her already broken heart.

Alessia attempted to sober you up to no avail with glasses of water and a cup of tea meant to calm you. “Come, let’s go to bed (y/n).”

Your tears were gone, but the guilt was still present in your head as you wordlessly took her hand and allowed yourself to be led into the bedroom. Alessia was gentle while stripping your clothes and wiping off makeup in between soft kisses to your tear stained cheeks. The silence was deafening. She knew by now some sort of confession was soon to come, but she was weak for you. She would let her own heart break every day just to have you by her side.

“Are you okay? Do you think you’ll be sick?” She asks tracing the features of your jaw as you lay facing one another.

She knows from the hesitation in your eyes what’s coming. The way your eyes frantically take in every part of her like it could be gone in a second, “I- I’m sorry Lessi. I didn’t mean to and it was selfish to come here to you after.” The confession… vague as usual still hurts. “I only want you Lessi. Nobody makes me feel the way you do.”

“Let’s go to sleep (y/n),” she never pushes for more. The times she had were unbearable.

“Do you hate me?” It’s mumbled and full of insecurity.

Alessia closes her eyes and takes a breath. Even if she wanted to hate you, she couldn't. “I could never hate you.”

That makes the tears return. You tuck your face into her neck breathing in the comforting scent, “it was just… just a kiss it meant nothing. I’m sorry. I’m yours, I just- I had too much and-” she doesn’t let you finish not wanting to know more.

“Please (y/n),” it’s so desperate and full of pain. “Sleep please.”

Those nights were the worst, and it always resulted in you waking up alone. Alessia allows you to fall into a drunken slumber before slipping out of your arms and moving to the guest bedroom to cry herself to sleep. As usual, no words were exchanged about it in the morning after she made yet another excuse for you. ‘It’s not cheating if she’s not really mine,’ she would tell herself to not be upset. You’d make your way to the kitchen and wrap your arms around her as she cooks. Alessia would be desperate for the touch after being deprived of it all night. You hated yourself on those mornings and Alessia did too, but she wouldn’t admit it. There hadn’t been a moment like that in a while and Alessia didn’t know which was worse, knowing it had happened or being left to wonder if it did.

Her favorite was somewhere in the middle. You’d be giddy from your light buzz full of compliments and cheeky flirtation. Needy in the best way possible and unable to keep your hands to yourself. As she turns to pour you a glass of water she knows that’s the exact night she’s in for today.

“Baby,” you whisper, hands slipping under her hoodie. “You look beautiful.”

Her abs twitch under your touch and you can’t help but smirk into her neck. She releases a deep sigh as she spins around in your hold, “drink love.”

“Kiss first?” You pucker your lips dramatically, sitting the glass aside and trapping her between the counter and your body.

Alessia meets you halfway with a smile gracing her face. She pecks your lips a few times never letting you deepen it, “proper kiss baby love,” you tease in an attempt to mock her accent. She rolls her eyes as her smile widens even more. She can still taste the liquor that you tried to mask behind mints.

“I’ve missed you, three days is too long to be away from you. I need you,” you tell her, pulling away to look in her eyes as they flutter back open.

“I’m right here, love. Drink so we can go to bed,” you nod and pick up the glass knowing she won’t let you move until you do. “Good job,” she praises, rewarding you with another peck to the lips.

She wiggles out from between you and the counter grasping your hand to drag you along with her, “tell me you missed me too Lessi,” you whine.

She glances at you over her shoulder as a smirk pulls at her lips, “I enjoyed the alone time.”

You stop letting your hand fall from hers as she makes her way back towards bed, “I thought of you at every moment and you didn’t miss me at all?”

“Thought of me at every moment, but you got back to London hours ago and are only making it here to me at 2am? I’m sure you thought of other things, love,” she says it jokingly but you can tell there’s a bit of truth to it.

“Should I not have come?” You bring yourself between her legs as she sits on the edge of the bed.

“No baby, I’m happy to see you, but it would be nice if you came earlier. A girl needs her beauty sleep. Plus training starts back soon, so no more late night visits for you.”

You cup her cheek and lean down to kiss her, “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world, a few missed nights won’t hurt.”

“Cheesy, I missed you too.”

“Good, I wrote a song about you,” you confess crawling your way on top of her as she makes her way up the bed.

“What?” There’s a look of surprise before she smirks.

“I missed you the whole time I was gone, so on the flight back I wrote a song…about you.” You lean down, placing open mouthed kisses along her neck.

She puts a hand to your chest to push you away before you can connect your lips with hers, “what is the song about?”

“The blue eyed girl in North London.”

She scoffs, pushing you aside with a pout, “everyone will think the song is about Leah ya know yeah?”

You met Leah first when she was on holiday in New York. You quickly became friends; she was now someone you trusted and cared for deeply. You didn’t have many close friends and the defender was a godsend in your life. There were of course rumors when the two of you started hanging around, so you understood where Alessia was coming from.

No one knew you and the striker were involved, not even Leah. It wasn’t because you wanted to hide, but when Leah introduced you she made it very clear she didn’t want you to involve yourself with her teammates. Neither of you thought it would be more than a casual thing so you never mentioned it, but boy were you wrong.

“Baby the song is not about Leah. I don’t miss Leah’s smile when she’s not around. I don’t crave her touch, or her lips. She doesn’t invade all of my thoughts throughout the day. I don’t care who people think the song is about. I know that it’s for you because you’re the only person who makes me feel everything. I- it’s just you Lessi. You’re mine.”

She lets you kiss her this time. It’s slow and full of every emotion you’re both too afraid to say. Alessia takes a shaky breath. “Say it,” she tells you and it makes you stop.

She didn’t have to tell you what she wanted to hear. For the last month you two have been dancing around the three words that would change everything. At this point she needed to hear it to make everything make sense. “Lessi, I can’t,” you drop your head to her shoulder.

“Ok then, kiss me,” she demands.

You don’t have to be told twice as you immediately connect your eager lips with hers. Attempting to put every feeling into one kiss you get frantic. Hands roaming before tugging at the bottom of her hoodie, “can I?”

“Yes,” is Alessia’s breathless response when she meets your eyes. Your favorite blues are darker than usual, full of desire. You lift the hoodie over her head and place kisses all over her face.

“My girl,” you whisper before once again indulging in her lips. Alessia squirms under your touch as you tug the waistband of her shorts in a silent request for permission. Clearly impatient, Alessia lifts her hips and pulls them down in one motion. “Needy girl,” you tease, running a hand along her thigh.

“Please,” she whimpers.

Tonight felt different. It was far from your first time with the striker, but emotions were clearly higher than usual. Alessia wasn’t one to beg usually, she enjoyed the build up and would let you take control however you pleased. So, hearing her voice, her desires shot right through you.

You moved your kisses from her neck to her chest and then her stomach making sure there wasn’t a single inch of her skin untouched. Your hands caressed her thighs inching closer to where she wanted you most with each stroke. You place a soft kiss to the inside of her thigh and her hand moves to the back of your head trying to guide you closer.

As you slide down the bed to get more comfortable you finally place a soft kiss to her glistening core. Alessia’s head drops back onto the pillow with a strangled moan. Hands tangled firmly in your hair to keep you in place.

Tonight wasn’t one of those nights you wanted to tease her. You wanted her to know you would do anything she desired. You take the first swipe through her folds and are rewarded with a glorious moan. It urges you on wanting to draw more of them out of the striker. You make sure she’s well worked up before slipping your fingers inside her, tongue moving to focus on the girl's already sensitive clit.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” you breath out. You can’t explain it but tonight is overwhelming. You are so consumed by Alessia mentally and physically. She reacts to every single touch and it is too much for you. She is addicting from the way she tasted, how she felt, the way she moaned your name it was all so much.

You reach up to play with her chest still working relentlessly inside her when you feel it. Your hands still and your tongue stops moving as Alessia’s head shoots up from the pillow to look at you with a glare. “Fuck,” you mumble into her core embarrassingly as your core clenches, forehead dropping to her stomach. Alessia’s eyes widen and a moan escapes her throat when she realizes why you stopped.

Your own orgasm comes out of nowhere causing a string of curses to drop from your mouth. You take a moment to let it ride out fingers still buried deep inside the striker who’s staring at you jaw slacked and pupils blown. You don’t even know how to proceed as shame washes over you from orgasming from simply pleasuring her.

It’s the needy moan from Alessia that finally makes you tilt your head up and meet her gaze, “I-I’m sorry that was…” you trail off unable to explain yourself only to see her shake her head.

“No, no that was… wow you’re… fuck. C’mere, kiss me,” she pants as you resume your ministrations to her core and move up her body to meet her lips in a sloppy kiss. She can barely keep up with the kiss between each moan so you kiss down her jaw to her neck sucking harshly. You feel them vibrate from her throat. “Baby, I’m cl-,” she pants, unable to finish as her eyes close tightly.

She didn’t have to tell you, you could feel her walls tightening around your fingers. You pick up your already relentless pace and place a delicate kiss to the side of her mouth that’s hanging open as beautiful moans fall out. “Look at me,” you demand and blue eyes snap to yours immediately. “I wanna see your pretty eyes as you fall apart screaming my name,” you tell her as you swipe your thumb across her clit knowing that’s all it’ll take to send her over the edge.

“Fuck (y/n),” it’s moaned in the best way possible, and it’s the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen. Face flushed, back arched, toes curled, hands gripping desperately at the sheets below you, jaw slacked producing the most delicious sounds, and eyes fighting to stay on you before they eventually roll back. Alessia Russo was divine. Your fingers slow but don’t stop until she’s completely rid out her orgasm and flutters her eyes back to you with a dopey smile.

You had no words for the moment and didn’t trust your voice anyway. You lean back down, again hoping to put every ounce of your heart into one kiss. Alessia reciprocates with the same eagerness to convey every emotion. Until she pulls away and a heartbreaking sob escapes from her causing you to freeze.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, keep kissin’,” Alessia pleads, trying to pull you back down.

“Alessia,” you whisper, moving yourself to lay beside her and wipe the tears away from her blushed cheeks. “Talk to me,” you beg, pulling the covers up over her body.

“No, I’m okay, sorry,” she tells you, burying her face in your neck.

“You’re not or you wouldn’t be crying. Did I do something wrong?”

“No, you were perfect, baby. Absolutely amazing. I loved everything. I’m just a little emotional I guess. It was a lot.”

“It was a lot for me too. That’s… I’ve never done… that before,” you say blushing as you think back to what happened.

“That was sensational,” she tells you.

“Tell me what’s going through your head right now.”

She pauses as her eyes close, unable to keep your gaze any longer, “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

Your heart drops as that’s the last thing you expected to hear, “what? What did I do wrong? I swear I can fix it. I know I’ve made mistakes, believe me when I say I’m sorry. I will be better. I have been better Alessia, believe me.”

“We- I don’t want to be your secret anymore. I don’t want to be your 2am visit. You give me so much and so little at the same time.”

“I’ll give you the world Alessia.”

She smiles sadly, “I know but you can’t even tell me how you feel. You tell me that I’m yours, but you’re not even mine. I… I don’t even want to know what you do when you’re not with me. It’s unfair, but I want to be selfish with you. I’m not trying to pressure you into anything, but you have me (y/n). I am yours, my heart is yours on a silver platter.”

“There’s no one else Alessia,” you were desperate. “I’m right here. What else do you want from me?”

“It doesn’t matter. Let’s go to sleep. I'm just overwhelmed like I said that was a lot,” she leans into your body wrapping herself into your hold.

You both go silent. You pull her impossibly closer, running your hand up and down the length of her back. You want to provide some sense of comfort as you feel her sigh against your neck. “I’m terrified, Lessi.”

It takes a while before you hear her respond, “of what?”

You take your own moment before answering, “I’m terrified of how happy you make me, of possibly losing my best friend when she finds out I slept with her teammate behind her back, of being destroyed when you realize that I’m not worth your time. All of it. I’m so scared of admitting that I’ve never wanted anything more than I want you. That I’ve never felt what I feel for you. It’s all new to me. I don't know how to go about this. You aren’t some dirty little secret I come to see at night for a good time. You’re all I want to end my night and tell you about my day. I want to wake up and start my day with you. I think about going back on tour soon when the album is finished, or you away when the season starts and I can’t imagine being away from you for that long. I know I’ve made mistakes since we’ve started. I know I’ve hurt you and I’m sorry for being a coward, but you’re all I want Alessia,” you breathe out.

Alessia finally looks up from your neck. Her eyes search yours for a moment before she’s cupping your cheek, “I’m not going anywhere, but I’m falling (y/n). I don’t want to do it alone. I will be there for whatever happens with Leah and I’ll be here waiting for you when you get a break on tours. You’ll be where I come home to after road trip games. Just please tell me I’m not falling alone.”

You probably take longer than you should searching her features for any slight chance of a lie. Seeing none, you finally take a deep breath before admitting what you knew for a while now, “I love you Alessia,” the smile that you are rewarded with takes away any fear that you have. There was a weight lifted off of you like you didn’t have to hide it even from yourself anymore.

“I love you too (y/n).”

“What do we do now? What does it mean?” You ask, trying to navigate the new feelings.

“What do you want?”

“Everything as long as it’s with you,” you smile.

“Baby,” she blushes, hitting at your chest as her cheeks turn a deep crimson.

You smile, taking hold of her cheek before leaning down to kiss her, “I love you Alessia Russo.”

“And I love you (y/n).”`

#alessia russo #woso fanfics #woso x reader #alessia russo x reader #woso imagine #woso

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die-pink-maus · 1 month

Text

Some MORE Canon/Not So Canon König 💋Headcanons💋

(NSFW Included • MDNI)

AN: AGAIN, these are just my thoughts and opinions of what I imagine König would be like IRL. I have once again divided everything up into sections and there is a whole section dedicated to more NSFW headcanons, so PLEASE…MDNI this is for the grownups! There is great mention of the words “wife”, “girlfriend” and some GN terms such as “you” or “your”. I am mainly writing this from the perspective of a woman. I’ve also included an IRL photo inspo to help get those imaginative juices flowing 🤭

IRL Inspo: @Fabientietjen on Insta/Tiktok

Likes, Reblogs, & Positive Comments Are Greatly Appreciated 🫶🏼

Enjoy! 💋

🪖Personality/Physical Appearance🪖

♡ TATTED. Definitely covered in tattoos, has the “my body is a temple so why not decorate it” mindset. All of his pieces are super unique to him and his experiences. Would more than likely get tattoos of his cats and his wife or GF so they’re always with him, especially when he is deployed.

♡ Very direct and to the point, but doesn’t necessarily always mean it in a mean or condescending way, he’s just very blunt. A lot of the time it’s more funny than anything else.

♡ Listens to Austrian and German folk music while he cooks, boisterously singing along with a gigantic goofy grin on his face, and a kitchen towel draped over his broad shoulder. It reminds him of being a child, and cooking with his mom back home.

♡ Hunter gatherer type of man. Owns a home in rural Austria where he is able to grow and harvest his own crops and hunt game. Probably owns a couple of animals on his small farm as well, but not for food, they’re like his family.

♡ Has a bit of a love hate relationship with his birthday. Doesn’t mind celebrating, as he is very grateful to be alive, but also just isn’t really one for all the attention that usually comes with birthdays. He’s more than content with staying in, ordering takeout and having some alone time with you 😜

♡ Loves dressing like he’s from the early 1900s. In his defence, it’s suits the fuck outta him, and reeeeally adds to that gentlemanly, timeless charm he has 🤭

♡ Will start pointless debates over almost ANYTHING simply because he enjoys watching people get frustrated. He thinks that shit is hilarious and will often play devils advocate just to get a rise out of someone 😂

♡ Hyperfixated on all things comics. Has been collecting comic books since he was a teen and has developed quite the collection.

♡ Big steak and potatoes kinda guy. Loves meat in general and probably isn’t afraid of eating the more undesirable parts of the animal, such as liver and gizzards.

♡ Huge on hygiene. Considering he’s spent quite a bit of time in some not so clean situations while being out in the fields on missions, being clean is something he’s become quite obsessed with now that he’s retired. More than likely because he doesn’t want to be reminded of his time in the military.

💗As a Boyfriend/Husband & Dad💗

♡ Adores taking you shopping, especially for lingerie. Will sometimes even request a private shopping session at your favourite boutique lingerie store so he can have you model a few pieces for him without interruption 😜

♡ Death stares at ANY MAN who even dares to look your way. He knows he has a bombshell on his arm, and there are many men who would kill to be in his position, but you’re his. He makes sure everyone is well aware of that.

♡ More than likely the type to opt for a small intimate proposal as opposed to something public and flashy. Would probably whisk his fiancé to be away to a beautiful tropical island, and propose to her during a lovely private dinner on the beach.

♡ Loves planning romantic vacations and getaways chalk full of excursions and activities he knows you’ll love.

♡ “I saw this at the mall on the way home and it made me think of you” type of man. He remembers practically everything about you.

♡ Teaches you how to shoot and takes you to the gun range at least once a month so you know how to protect yourself in case he ever needs to be away.

♡ Trains you in hand to hand combat, which involves a lot of roughhousing that usually leads to well…you know 🤭

♡ Tells you how beautiful you are and how lucky he is to have a woman like you on a daily basis.

♡ Was the most attentive husband on earth when you got pregnant. Ensured you had everything you needed at all times, would constantly massage your feet, and came to every doctors appointment you had.

♡ Absolutely obsessed with your pregnant belly. Hushed words of adoration in German as he kisses your cheek and rubs your belly.

♡ Would often speak to the baby while she was still in your tummy. “Hallo Baby Mädchen, es ist deine Vater König…I can’t wait to meet you meine Prinzessin” 🥹

♡ Has always wanted a daughter, and when you two finally have one, that little girl became the centre of his entire universe. Names her after his mother, her grandmother.

♡ Is the best Girl Dad™️ on the planet. From playing dress up and letting her practice her makeup skills on him, to tea parties that involve him wearing a princess tiara, there’s practically nothing he wouldn’t do for her.

♡ Your little girl loves to cook with her father. He will hold her in his arms on his hip as he cooks, allowing her to sample everything in the process.

♡ Loves taking family photos with his beautiful girls and your pets! His office at the base was full of framed photos of all of you, and he always caries a photo of you and your daughter with him at all times.

😈Behind Closed Doors…😈

♡ Last time we talked about how he fucks you, but what about how he makes love to you? Both are equally as intense to be honest 🤭

♡ When König makes love to you, it’s almost as if the whole world stands still, and you and him are the only people on earth…bodies moving in perfect rhythm and harmony with one another 🥲

♡ He takes his time with you, long intimate full body massages with sensual aromatic oils, feeds you chocolate covered strawberries from his lips, drizzles honey all over your body and practically licks you from head to toe, nipping and sucking at those delicious sweet spots of yours.

♡ The foreplay is excruciatingly euphoric. Soft, slow, gentle kisses along your neck and over your chest. Licking and pinching your nipples as you moan beneath him, the bulge beneath his sweat pants purposefully teasing your sopping cunt through your panties as he grinds against it before pulling them off. His tongue gently lapping at your folds and your clit from behind as he gently squeezes your ass cheeks.

♡ No part of you is off limits for him. His tongue darts into your tight hole as his thumb draws mind numbingly pleasurable circles over your swollen clit. Two fingers from his other hand slipping into your puckered hole.

♡ Loves watching your gorgeous full lips wrap themselves around the thick tip of his cock, his large fingers gently running through your hair as whimpers, moans and sweet praises escape him. “You’re so good for me.” “Mein Gott you look incredible sucking my cock.”

♡ He loves when you’re on top, practically mesmerized at the sight of your curvaceous naked body hovering above him, large perky tits bouncing up and down as you slowly ride his huge cock 🤤

♡ His large hands guiding your hips as he looks up at you, arousal dripping from his icy blue gaze mirroring the arousal in yours.

♡ He does, however, tend to get a lil too excited. You drive him absolutely crazy. Eventually he flips you over, throwing both your legs over his shoulders as he rests on his knees and begins slamming into you, repeatedly grazing your cervix with the tip of his cock as you practically scream his name. “Cum for me, Schatz, I want you to cum all over this cock.”

♡ As usual he always makes sure you cum first, but he can’t help but cum inside you. Your insatiably tight, wet walls clenching around his girth, milking every drop of cum from his aching balls 😩

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