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masturbucky · 2 years

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Being TFaTWS!Bucky's obsession would be like...

[!!!]Dark and smutty profile! You are the one who is responsible for what you're reading. Not me.

First off, let's be honest. If you get this man's attention, he's down badly.

And he knows it.

The second his eyes land on you — yes, the very-very first second — he's hooked.

It's hard to say what catches him so badly. Maybe it's the way you smiled when you catched his eyes in you, or maybe it's how you swayed your hips, unable to stay still while talking.

Maybe it's your expressiveness. Maybe it's the warm aura of life around you. Maybe it's innocence in your eyes.

It doesn't matter who you are or what you're doing, you're innocent in his eyes. Fully innocent.

And when he catches those thoughts about you, he knows that it's... wrong.

Soon enough he learns everything there is possible to find on you without asking directly. He can't let you in his life. It's too dangerous. HE'S too dangerous.

But it doesn't mean he can't keep an eye on you from time to time, right?

He WON'T do anything about it. He promised himself, he's not like that.

He's not some crazy maniac, for fuck's sake. He knows he's not quite normal, but he believes that his mind is not THAT twisted.

He knows it's bad. It's weird and wrong. It's obsessive. He didn't told doc about his little stress-relieving hobby to watch you, to learn about you, to follow you around-

But even without confirmation he knows that it's fucking unhealthy. He's sick.

All he can do is keep it low and let it exist in his head, as long as its harmless.

It's not like he will let it out of control. He will just keep watching you from afar, from the safe distance, imagining how it could've been if he was there, with you, casually going around grocery shop and laughing and hugging-

But he's not. Fuck. Shake those off your head, Barnes. Get it together.

Soon enough it starts being... Frustrating.

Watching you is not enough. It was before. Now it's not.

He still wont let his control over himself slip away.

I'm not like that. I won't ruin it. I won't ruin her. I won't-

He leaves your place with a small... souvenir. He highly doubts that you'll even notice you're missing a only one pair of shorts, you barely wear those anyway.

He promises himself that it won't happen again.

It does.

He knows your apartment like the back of his hand at the end of this month. You won't ever suspect he was there, you don't even know him. And you won't.

He's good. He can control himself.

However, this pair of shorts helps him to calm down.

It helps. That's what matters.

He keeps it on the couch, near the spot where he sleeps. Easy to grab when he wakes in the dead of night.

Sometimes he likes to imagine how you could've sleep together. In bed. It's hard for him to sleep in bed or even on the couch, feels too comfortable, suffocatingly so, he's not used to it.

But he could've tried, if you were by his side.

It gets harder and harder to control it, he noticed.

He noticed when he took another souvenir from your place, this time a pair of panties.

A price for self-control, he thinks. Better those than you.

If only you knew.

If only he was less of a fucked up problem.

He could've been a great guy you complain you don't have to your friends. He could've treat you well, worship you like a goddess you are. He'd give you the moon and stars.

If not the arm. If not his past. If not all this. If...

"I'm Bucky. Can I buy you a drink?"

Fuck it. He deserves something good for himself.

You'll understand. You're so good, so sweet. He knows you will accept him, with all that.

After all, he's a good guy. He just needs to keep it that way, and to control himself.

#dark fic #x reader #sebastian stan #what am i even writing #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky x reader

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sonhosdostemposperdidos · 5 months

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THIS DISSERTATION PROPOSAL IS TRASH BUT I AM AN ACADEMIC RACCOON.

So it’s fine

#gradblr #what am I even writing #not enough ‘em dashes #“”response: but it is 50% ‘em dashes #me: still needs more em dashes

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voxofthevoid · 10 months

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How is this innocent scarification chapter turning into "characters are rolling around in blood" frottage

#fic: every version of the story #what am i even writing

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tree-noceda · 10 months

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i just realized something...

She's Silver Spoon

And he's also Silver Spoon

I JUST FRICKING REALIZED THAT A CHARACTER FROM MY (kinda) CHILDHOOD SHOW SHARES A NAME WITH A CHARACTER FROM SOMETHING THAT I LIKE NOW-

#crappost #inanimate insanity #ii silver spoon #my little pony #Wha-#what am i even writing

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new-berry · 11 months

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Frank Lampard credits his Christian faith (guess he wasn’t much of a reader about the rules the bible has) with helping him through difficult patches in his life.

“For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may receive what is due for what he has done in the body, whether good or evil.”

Like Frank would rather be judged by the lord. But he wakes up on a cold sweat assuming it’s at least one of these two.

#frank lampard #had a day away from no one else will be here #oh no #what am I even writing #personally a filthy atheist

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somebirdortheother · 1 year

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Last Sentence Tag Game

Thank you @helenvader for tagging me. Your last line is INTRIGUING to say the least.

Here is mine, and anyone can take a guess which of my universes this is from!

Paying him decidedly more than the teen would have expected for the service, trusting full well that he was smart enough to know what the heavier sum meant, Halbrand asked, “Say Theo, does this Galadriel Noldor know of your other occupations?”

I barely dare tag anyone in my posts ever, but can’t wait to see what other fellow writers are working on!

#tag game #fic writing #what am I even writing #trop steampunk au #steampunk au #galadriel x halbrand

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mylily0-0 · 11 months

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i could play a mean tune on those skin bongos of yours

#shitpost #what am i even writing #i literally said this irl to someone #i didn’t mean to say skin i meant to say skeleton but my mouth moved too fast

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chloeseyeliner · 2 years

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*finishes listening to midnights and midnights (3 a.m. version)*

well...let me just- *Lavender Haze starts playing*

#if my neighbour hanging the clothes to dry saw me crying while listening to anti-hero and the great war no she absolutely did not #i can't believe i have to be a responsible adult after that #taylor alison swift you wonderful genious #anyway #i will go on like i did not listen to that album and listen to it again after classes and cry like a pro #what am i even writing #taylor swift #midnights #midnights (3 a.m. version)

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butchfalin · 5 months

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the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

#yeehaw #1k #5k #10k #posts that got cursed. blasted. im making these tag updates after... 19 hours?#also i have been told it should say speech loss bc nonverbal specifically refers to the permanent state. did not know that!#unfortunately i fear it is so far past containment that even if i edited it now it would do very little. but noted for future reference #edit 2: nvm enough ppl have come to rb it from me directly that i changed the wording a bit. hopefully this makes sense #also. in case anyone is curious. though i doubt anyone who is commenting these things will check the original tags #1) my friend did not do this on purpose in any way. it was not intended to distract me or to hit on me. im a lesbian hes a gay man. cmon now #he felt very bad about it afterwards. i thought it was hilarious but it was very embarrassed and apologetic #2) “why didn't he use 🫵🏼?” didn't exist yet. “why didn't he use 🆗?” dunno! we'd been using a lot of hand emojis. 👌🏼 is an ok sign #like it makes sense. it was just a silly mixup. also No i did not invent 👉🏼👌🏼 as a gesture meaning sex. do you live under a rock #3) nonspeaking episodes are a recurring thing in my life and have been since i was born. this is not a quirky one-time thing #it is a pervasive issue that is very frustrating to both myself and the people i am trying to communicate with. in which trying to speak is #extremely distressing and causes very genuine anguish. this post is not me making light of it it's just a funny thing that happened once #it's no different than if i post about a funny thing that happened in conjunction w a physical disability. it's just me talking abt my life #i don't mind character tags tho. those can be entertaining. i don't know what any of you are talking about #Except the ppl who have said this is pego/ryu or wang/xian. those people i understand and respect #if you use it as a writing prompt that's fine but send it to me. i want to see it #aaaand i think that's it. everyday im tempted to turn off rbs on it. it hasn't even been a week

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inkskinned · 7 months

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i love when words fit right. seize was always supposed to be that word, and so was jester. tuesday isn't quite right but thursday should be thursday, that's a good word for it. daisy has the perfect shape to it, almost like you're laughing when you say it; and tulip is correct most of the time. while keynote is fun to say, it's super wrong - i think they have to change the label for that one. but fox is spot-on.

most words are just, like, good enough, even if what they are describing is lovely. the night sky is a fine term for it but it isn't perfect the way november is the correct term for that month.

it's not just in english because in spanish the phrase eso si que es is correct, it should be that. sometimes other languages are also better than the english words, like how blue is sloped too far downwards but azul is perfect and hangs in the air like glitter. while butterfly is sweet, i think probably papillion is more correct, although for some butterflies féileacán is much better. year is fine but bliain is better. sometimes multiple languages got it right though, like how jueves and Πέμπτη are also the right names for thursday. maybe we as a species are just really good at naming thursdays.

and if we were really bored and had a moment and a picnic to split we could all sit down for a moment and sort out all the words that exist and find all the perfect words in every language. i would show you that while i like the word tree (it makes you smile to say it), i think arbor is correct. you could teach me from your language what words fit the right way, and that would be very exciting (exciting is not correct, it's just fine).

i think probably this is what was happening at the tower of babel, before the languages all got shifted across the world and smudged by the hand of god. by the way, hand isn't quite right, but i do like that the word god is only 3 letters, and that it is shaped like it is reflecting into itself, and that it kind of makes your mouth move into an echoing chapel when you cluck it. but the word god could also fit really well with a coathanger, and i can't explain that. i think donut has (weirdly) the same shape as a toothbrush, but we really got bagel right and i am really grateful for that.

grateful is close, but not like thunder. hopefully one day i am going to figure out how to shape the way i love my friends into a little ceramic (ceramic is very good, almost perfect) pot and when they hold it they can feel the weight of my care for them. they can put a plant in there. maybe a daisy.

#warm up #writeblr.#i am not going to personally comment on the pineapple debate #some things are too big for me.#maybe we could have everything on earth choose their own names.#wouldn't that be fun #it is a creative writing exercise. okay. ily #''why only these languages?'' ..... bc i dont know every language #sorry :(#PLEASE leave me comments about what words u think are correct. i love learning them #btw! this isn't saying these are the most BEAUTIFUL words for it... just the words that are the most CORRECT #like i quite like the word ''keynote'' as mentioned. it's got a lot of fun sounds in it.#but it is not CORRECT.#''gloaming''' is interesting and fun and poetic but it is NOT correct . evening is MORE correct #but less beautiful.#does that make sense?

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masturbucky · 2 years

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| "A Perfect Match" |

Steve Kemp x fem!Reader

Summary: She had her little secret she would never share with him, unless he has his own, kind of related to hers. Part one(?)

TWs: cannibalism, mention of sex, gore and violence, masochistic behavior by Y/n, sadistic by Steve obviously, Y/n is totally a living endless steak for Steve now, from Y/n's side it's a fucking romanticized toxic behavior, both characters are SICK SICK, I DO NOT APPRECIATE THIS KIND OF SHIT IRL! It's a DARKFIC, you have been WARNED!!! English is not my native language, so there's probably a lot of mistakes. Not proofreaded, I finished this masterpiece at 3am. And yeah, writing virginity bye-bye :D

Masterlist

Steve was a dream come true, indeed. This man is around for only a week yet, yes, but hell, did you felt ever so good as with him during those seven days? Easy question, the answer is no.

He always made sure to make you feel comfortable around him. For you comfort was a rare thing — yes, I mean, you had a nice place, all the things you want, your bills were always paid, little pleasures of life was yours without much thinking about price. You made it really good, your work were more than well paid.

After all, letting all those weirdos cut your limbs off, eating your flesh straight from your legs and just selling the parts of yourself to them were something where you had no competitors in. As far as you concerned, you're the only person who can regrow any part of their body with no limits, survive whatever damage were done and get out of this the same way you were before, as if nothing happened. Great success, as they say. Business grows and booms.

But back to Steve- Steve was good. Really good. He was gentle and dreamy, yes, he was beautiful, he was all those things you've never managed to piece in one man in your life. Puzzle never was pieced, always they were or a complete assholes, or just not good for you. There always were something under the facade, always, so you were pretty cautious about men. Before Steve showed up. Maybe there were some moments that made you feel like something is off for a second, but for a second only — you felt good about him, your gut and sense both were telling you that he's good. And so you believed, you gave into this perfect, perfect dream.

But of course you cant tell him what you are and what you do for living, God, of course no. You'd just say that you're a freelance artist, that's easier. Not exactly a lie, you really do freelance and in other way, art.

You guys spend nice time together. At first it was two dates in bar, then you two somehow made it to your bed — it's quite further, but fuck it, he's too good to pretend. And since the night it's all so sweet — morning kisses slowly turn into morning sex and breakfast together, then lunch, then dinner at your place, sex, conversations about nothing and everything at the same time, then sleep cuddling to his side, and the cycle continued to the next day. It's all too good, and it's your comfort, your sweet happy hours you look forward to while some psycho drools over himself, slicing your throat and asking to let him put his fingers in the cut for double price.

You show up on your date with Steve in a new dress and a nice new coat, the ones you've been thinking about for quite some time.

"Damn, I did something really good in the past life, didn't I?" He asked with a laugh, telling you just how gorgeous you look in his own, charmingly funny manner. You laugh too, telling him that he probably were a saint, because you have even more pretty lingerie underneath.

It was an ideal week, the next one went even better — he offered to spend the weekend somewhere out the city. Where? Hmm, let it be a surprise. Oh, I love surprises.

So here you are at the cold Friday morning, wrapping the coat around your comfy, but not warm enough sweater, while he gets your things for the weekend into his car's trunk and explains how one of hell the traffics are gonna be today, but don't worry, we'll be there before midnight. Then you both sit into his car, chatting and laughing, and the trip starts.

And he was right — you do arrived to his cottage before night, and surprise, hope you don't mind that I don't have a wi-fi there, complicated shit, and of course you don't. You have a whole two days ahead with Steve in his cottage, so much away from all this noise and people, finally, so it's all just perfect.

He tells you something about his niece and how she gifted him some candle which you think smells really good, and something else while you look around and he gets a drink for himself and for you. It's so nice in here. I'd love to live somewhere like this one day.

I...

Yeah, what we were talking about?...

***

You wake up with a dull headache, groaning in pain. You didn't even remember how you fell asleep — was it alcohol? But you haven't, like, drink much, in fact you had only one glass of whatever fruit-flavoured it was-

Where you are, even?

Not the most comfortable bed under your touch, but the blanket is soft, did Steve carried you to bed?

And where is he?

You open your eyes slowly, trying to focus. You also try to sit — successfully, even though your head still spins a bit. You see a silhouette in front of you; Steve, obviously, sits in the corner of the room, staring at you calmly.

Something feels off longer than for two seconds.

"How you slept?" He stands from his spot and walks closer to you casually, and your head still processes the way you woke up.

"Not really bad, just don't remember how I fell asleep and my head hurts, that's it..." You sit, moving your legs closer to your body in attempt to get some more warmth. The chain clattered.

What chain?

You removed the blanket quickly, staring at your leg. Of course, this chain, right around your ankle. You're not dumb. You see where this goes.

"I drugged you. That's how you fell asleep, sorry." Steve says it simply, as if sorry I forgot to order you ice in your coke, won't happen again, and you stare at him in slight, still sleepy, confusion.

"What's- What's this supposed to mean? What for? And why you chained me?"

Now you realized that you're not even in bed, in fact, you're on some thin mattress.

"Y/n, easy, I know it's all hard, but try to remain calm for me and listen, okay?" He says it with one of his smiles — beautiful smile, so boyish and comforting that it even works on you now. "I'm going to sell your meat. I know, I know, don't freak out — listen,"

...Wait the fuck up.

You hold your breath, but you listen.

"I will keep you alive as long as possible. Fresh meat costs more, so- You'll be kept in good condition, I'll take care of you. I will take your body parts with time passing, yes, but I'll keep you clean, feed and if you'll be a good girl, you can even last longer." Steve ends his explanation calmly and in this comforting way, in which only he can really bring comfort to you, and you cant help but let out a laugh.

And before he says more, you speak up.

"How ironic." You say, smiling too simply for someone who just heard that they are practically a living piece of meat here. "Why don't you go and bring something you can cut me with just now?"

He sighs. Oh, what a reaction. He probably thinks she's kidding.

"I don't think you really want me to start now, Y/n. You see-" He laughs, ready to brush her off with something threatening, maybe. Too bad she's deadly serious.

"Go on. Believe me, you wanna see what kind of surprise I hold, Steve." You lean closer, holding eye contact. You totally want to play, because what can you loose? He will learn soon anyway, so you might as well enjoy the show.

Steve accepts the challenge of her game judging by how he smirks, not really trying to hide excitement, and walks out of the room for a minute or two, closing the door.

While he's away, your body practically shivers with the same amount of excitement you just seen in his eyes. You've never, NEVER had a chance to enjoy this power you have. Now, when you see someone who's as much fucked up, as much of a psycho, just from the other side of the show — you know that you would, even if he'll break your ribcage and get your lungs out. You never liked the feeling when they get your insides out of you, it's so empty and suffocating in it, and so cold, but if he will do this...

The sound of door opening makes you let go of your thoughts, your dreams, and you finally see him again. You don't even try to hold back the urge to bite on your lower lip. Its not exactly what you wanted - only a meat cleaver, nice and sharp, nice and clean, but not enough for your liking. Will do for now, but maybe later...

Since when do you even think of it that way?

Steve sits down in front of you, analyzing your reaction. It must be a high risk for him - bring a fucking meat cleaver, a knife to you, he probably knows how much it can cost him if you'd try and attack him. But you wont. You just don't see the fun in that.

It wont bring you satisfaction you crave for, the one that he can give you. It's Steve, and even if for him it's nothing — which you doubt — it is so much for you. He's not like others.

"What are you waiting for, brave one?" He chuckles, what a lovely sound. "Your hand, sweetheart. Give me your hand. Not like we'll need your pretty fingers for anything else anyway."

You see what he does. He tries to scare you, make you submit, make you accept your loss. Even one of scary knives he brought for it, for the show. Good try, Steve. Really.

But you know better, and the next second your left hand are on the floor, in front of him.

He hesitates, looks in your eyes in search of something. For doubt, fear, maybe. But you stare back with a smirk, a literal "try me" sign.

It cuts sharply, like a slice of butter. Bones are nothing. Three fingers - index, middle and ring finger are now on the floor, bleeding — your hand bleeds more of course, scream catches in your throat and you let out more like a small yelp. He still stares in your eyes - and you don't dare to look away. You don't want to, god, whatever, but let me stare in those eyes forever.

He breaks eye contact first, looking down. Fingers, when they cutted out of their usual place, look really weird. The sound when it happened were, not to mention, more like when you cut a cucumber, maybe. You allow yourself to breathe again, hardly, but you look down too - out of the remaining of where were yours three fingers only a minute before started grow something; new fingers, here they go, each time regeneration works faster. Would new limbs just grow in a 15 minutes instead of hours with time if you'll keep all this up? Because it can be really, really useful.

He stares at your hand in awe, pulling the knife aside without much care.

"How?" He only mutters, bringing your hand with already halfway grown new fingers, covered in slippery, just beginned to form flesh with small forming drips of blood here and there. You chuckle, almost don't feeling any pain out of what your body does with itself now - it was painful long time ago, now it's just like dulled pressure and deep discomfort if you try to move forming flesh.

"It was that way as long as I remember myself. Evolutioned first of all you loser humans, apparently." You giggle, feeling proud of it, the first time its not making you feel like a freak.

Maybe it's because he's a freak, too. A lovely one.

You bring your eyes back to his face. He's so out of this world now, observing how the flesh and now even skin forms on your new fingers, god, you feel like you're naked in front of him. What a sick, but so pleasant feeling.

"Okay... Okay. Now I get it, Y/n. It's incredible, truly." Steve suddenly does something unexpected and not so pleasant physically, but it almost makes you cry out of feels. He brings your hand to his face, kissing still not fully formed fingers, licking the drips of blood from them.

"And ironic."

"What a perfect match we are."

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And now I'll go to sleep cuz I'm dying :D