#i think the biggest reason why i don't have more smut threads | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

queenharumiura · 10 months

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GET TO KNOW NEO

name — Neo and on some other blogs An-chan

pronouns— She/her

preferred comms — I get webhooks alerts to replies and asks, and tumblr very rarely alerts me to ims, but it is available to those who prefer communications via tumblr. Discord is the most reliable.

name of muse — Haru Miura on this blog and many more that i'm too lazy to list out on other blogs.

experience in RP — Around 16 years I think. Crazy as it is, I started out on Quizilla when you used to be able to message people. Then I moved to a proboards site when a friend invited me to join one she created. Was there for a long time. Dabbled a bit in RP'ing with a group on DeviantArt. Did a bit of skype rp from there. Then I moved to tumblr rp. I may have attempted to dabble in discord RP and ye- it's not exactly for me, but I can do it. I hate feeling limited though.

best experiences— Any iteration of: "You know, you made me change my mind on how I see Haru." Truly, the biggest serotonin boost I'd ever need in life. This is my goal in life. What I aspire to do with my writing. Not RP, but I got a Haru hater to like Haru after reading a few of my fics years back. You thought you were going to hate read and give hate? Jokes on you, I OPENED YOUR EYES.

pet peeves/dealbreakers — If you've reposted fanart without credit nor permission and i've talked to you about it and you dismissed my concerns about reposting fanart, i'll instantly block you. It's in my rules for a reason. Tho- I suppose that's just breaking my rules so maybe it doesn't count as a dealbreaker?

Not necessarily a peeve but more of a turn off, but I really don't like it when someone has the repeat energy of 'No one would want to rp with me, I don't see why I bother,' 'Did anyone miss me? No? Okay' etc. It probably sounds petty of me, but I don't like it. It dismisses the efforts of those who have been trying to connect to you, and I come onto tumblr to have fun, so I don't want to come here and feel bogged down. The energy actually disheartens me and brings my own mood down because I end up sympathizing with them too much. For the sake of my own mentality, I end up distancing myself.

muse preference ( fluff, angst, smut ) — I enjoy fluff and angst a lot. Smut... depends... on the muse... and relationships... and how comfortable I am with the mun. I'm big shy in general so it can take time to warm me up to talking about smut in regards to muses. Once I'm used to talking to you about it and i'm comfortable with you, i'm pretty open about it. Truly, I'm big on troll humor though, so crack humor kinda threads really have my heart. If you wanna talk smut with me, you gotta be the one to bring it up because 99.5% of the time, it won't be me bringing it up first.

IF we aren't shipping, then you better hope one day I even reblog a risque meme for you to inquire about it. I'm a lil wary about talking about it to begin with.

plot or memes — Plots, as some of us know that i'm not very keen on memes as my relationship with the inbox is not positive. Still working on it though, one blog at a time. Memes are fun when i'm in the mood for them. This goes for reblogging them or sending in to people.

long or short replies — Both are fine with me, and both are great in their own right. Long ones are nice as they give you a lot to explore but it also takes a while to reply to and it can tire me out. Short threads are short and simple. They're nice, and then you get me being suddenly inspired and whoops- suddenly it's a long thread. (short replies = 3 paragraphs in my mind).

best time to write — I'm finding myself to be more active in the night hours, so the PMs. I do tend to be high inspiration in the AMs, but i'm usually at work or low energy. So that's when I spend the time thinking of what i'll write and then stow those ideas for when I do have the energy.

are you like your muse?: I've been told that I'm very much like Haru, and it's mostly in some habits, i'd say. Haru is a way better human than I am. Fit for life. I, a dehydrated prune is not fit for life. We both share our troll heart, our tendency for conspiracy thoughts, dramatics, speaking in third person and such. Basically, consider me the unhealthy introvert AU for Haru.

Tagged by: @ryuusake

Tagging: I don't tag

#Ryuusake #Tagged meme #About Muneo

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chronicxwanderlust · 1 year

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get to know the author!

name: tabitha

pronouns: she/her

preference of communication: used to be a die-hard tumblr im's girlie but finally caught onto the discord train a few years ago! still stick to im's for like initial contact/plotting but definitely am reached better and interact more consistently on discord.

most active muse: that would be my bb marley! she's my longest active muse of about...four years now? i feel like it might be longer but that's as old as any of her blogs that i can find! but without fail she's always the muse i have the most inspiration for, and a foolproof way to get myself out of any writing slumps. will say though after really only exclusively playing her for like three years, this last year or so i've tried my hand at so many new characters/fcs and now have so many new muses that i adore!

experience/how many years: when i tell you that i have absolutely zero recollection of how i discovered rping on this hellsite!!! my middle school bestie introduced me to tumblr for sure but how i ever discovered rp will probably forever be a mystery to me, but i think i've been here since i 2011? do not remember if rping on omegle (PLEASE who let me be unsupervised on the computer!!!!) came before or after, but once i was here i started with glee rp (cannot interfere, it's a canon event) and somehow crawled my way to today and into my home amongst simple town rps asdfghgfghj.

best experience: this last year or so has probably given me the biggest giggles that i can remember ever having!!! i had the fortune of meeting some really great writers to brave this madness together and just getting to laugh and bounce ideas and plots off of them and also to have a front row seat to their work outside of what we've come up with has just been so cool and inspiring? like the fact that this is done as a silly little hobby but i genuinely am constantly left just in awe of their talent is just so beyond me!

rp pet peeves: lazy plotters or people who so clearly don't read your intro before just throwing connects out there (usually in order to face chase and it's like babe, if you read my intro i wouldn't have to tell you why x, y, and z does not fit for this muse like?)! i don't mind shipping certain faces together but wanting a ship solely for the faces and not caring about the muse themself is usually so blatant and obnoxious.

fluff, angst, or smut: big fan of both fluff and angst! i generally like more plot driven threads, which i feel usually lends itself to angst, but love balancing out the heavy stuff with something light and fun when it calls for it and def think those can help move a plot along as well! think it's kinda funny that before i was allowed to write smut, i wanted to do so more than i do now that i actually can? it's not that i won't, but it'd probably have to be a ship i really cared about and thought it'd add something to see what that connection is like when they're intimate?

plots or memes: i am the worstttttt when it comes to memes! i start off with such good intentions but usually they just build up in my inbox and i tell myself i should answer them...and then let them sit in my inbox for longer until it's really been too long since i should've answered them and tell myself i'll be better next time. but plots, i live for that shit! don't even need big elaborate ones, like one of my longest rp besties and i usually just send each other little blurbs of an idea and literally could spend forever going back and forth with musings and headcanons for it.

long or short replies: i look back on like my 2016 rp days and literally do not know how i went from little one line responses to writing novels. like the #pls don't feel like you have to match length tag is v me coded bc i absolutely am not getting out of a response without at least a paragraph. love love love exploring my muses thought processes and reasonings and their inner monologue, which can lead to some pretty lengthy responses, depending on the thread!

time to write: tell myself all day at work that when i get home, it's time to write...and then i get home and i tell myself that it's time to nap instead! i have the most time to write in the evening/night time or during the weekends, and that's when i can get random little bursts of motivation to not wait until the suns gone down to start writing.

are you like your muses: i do like to give my muses tiny little parts of myself, like if they reference a tiktok that's ended up on my fyp, or some weird quirks or opinions, but as a whole, i don't think i'd consider myself too similar to any of them!

tagged by: @waveofstars thank you bb!

tagging: @sinsoakedsaints, @tinytriceratop, @kiplingwriter, + anyone who wants to!

#ooc #ask memes

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fandominvolved · 3 years

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Falling head first | SamBucky

Sumary: What happened that caused Buky to ignore Sam's text?

Warnings: smut (it's fade to black), swears, angst, and internalized homophobia (Bucky refers to himself liking Sam as not normal so if you're triggered by such please refrain from reading this fic)

Bucky knew this was going to happen. He knew Steve was going to leave and stay with Peggy. Still, that doesn’t make it hurt any less. Somehow it makes it more painful knowing that Steve went to him, hopeful that Bucky would agree with his plan. That he would be happy for Steve.

And maybe he is a little bit disappointed that Steve didn’t change his mind. That Steve didn't return at the last second.

After all, It has always been Steve and Bucky until it wasn’t.

Bucky popped off the beer cap with his vibranium arm. He couldn’t even get drunk, but it was better than letting himself pretend everything was okay. Bucky brought up the bottle towards his lips, swallowing down the bitter liquid.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sam walking closer to him. He turned around, raising an eyebrow, keeping his gaze settled on Sam.

He looked anxious, worried, uncertain. Sam’s hands kept fidgeting around, picking at an old scar on his thumb. And Bucky couldn’t blame him for it. After everything that has happened, he would be more worried about Sam acting fine.

“Did you know?” Sam asked, his voice held a rough edge to it as his fingers fiddled around the counter picking at an invisible piece of flint.

Bucky took another swig of the beer, “Yeah, he told me the day before,” Bucky answered. “I tried to get him to stay, but you know how he is-” Bucky chuckled humorlessly “-once he sees something he wants, he gets it no matter the cost,”

Sam glanced at Bucky, his eyebrows knit together. “What about the shield?”

Bucky offered his beer to Sam, watching as he took it out of his hands and took a big gulp. Bucky kept an eye on Sam, watching his face scrunch slightly at the bitter taste.

“What about it?”

“Did you know he was going to give it to me?” Sam asked, scanning Bucky’s face.

“I did,” Bucky nodded, “He told me that there wasn’t a better person to give it to, that you represent what Captain America should be,”

Sam shook his head “I’m no Steve Rogers,”

“You aren’t,” Bucky said, craning his neck upwards fixing his gaze onto the corner of the roof, “But you are Sam Wilson, and that’s enough,”

Bucky walked around the counter, bending down to grab another beer from the mini-fridge, “There’s a reason he chose you,” Bucky stood up, popping off the cap from the beer as he walked over next to Sam.

“Let me rephrase that, I’m no Captain America. I don’t do the stripes and stars bullshit, that was Steve’s job and now he’s gone.” Sam leaned against the counter.

“You aren’t, but you could be,” Bucky mumbled, “you can’t just let Steve’s legacy die, rotting away in some museum where the only things that are spoken are lies and half-truths,” He took another swig of the beer. The sour taste grounded him. Reminded him he was here and not there.

“That’s the problem I can’t live up to him, I can’t ruin his legacy,”

“If Steve thought you were going to ruin it all he would have never given it to you,” Bucky glanced at Sam, “Why are you so worried?”

“It isn’t just about his legacy, how do you think people would react to a new Captain America,” Sam mumbled, finally breaking eye contact with Bucky.

“They’ll get used to it,”

Sam huffed out, “Of course you don’t get it, just forget it,” Sam shook his head.

Bucky grabbed Sam’s shoulder, and he doesn’t know why he did that. Maybe he craved the familiar sense of warmth Steve used to bring him. “What don’t I get?”

Sam glared at Bucky-but he didn’t shrug Bucky’s handoff on the contrary he seemed to have melted at the slight contact. “Just forget it,”

“Forget what?” Bucky kept on pushing. He wanted, no, needed to know why Sam couldn’t just accept the mantle.

Sam rolled his eyes “Man, why am I even talking about this with you?” Sam shook his head, “You probably couldn’t even care less about what I do, all you care is about that stupid shield,”

Bucky tensed up, he glared at Sam, “It isn’t a stupid shield, it’s more than that,”

“You’re right, it’s a piece of metal that you have an unhealthy attachment to, Steve’s gone and the shield won’t bring him back,” Sam exclaimed, glaring back at Bucky as he angled his body so that it was directly in front of Bucky. Barely any space left between them.

"You don't think I know that? But that shield is the only thing Steve left behind and if you even think of throwing everything he worked for away, then I'm not going to let you,"

And if Bucky was smarter he should have put a stop to the rapidly escalating fight. He should have ignored Sam and just drank his day away, hoping that the beer would fill the hole in his heart. He should have just told Sam to calm down, and try to understand him.

But he didn’t.

Bucky was falling, he was falling headfirst with nothing to hang onto. And it’s terrifying how in a mix of fury, frustration, and anxiety Sam’s mouth is suddenly on his. It’s even more terrifying how much Bucky enjoys it.

Sam’s teeth bite into his lip drawing out a low moan from him. And he might be falling, but he has Sam to hold on to.

Sam’s kisses are bruising. He sucks, bites, and licks every inch of Bucky’s mouth. His hands are gripping Bucky’s hips, it would have been painful had it not been for the super-soldier serum running through Bucky’s veins like fire.

And as much as he wants to act surprised that he and Sam are making out, grinding against each other as their hands grab at every part of their body. He isn’t. Maybe he isn’t surprised because they both lost someone they loved today. Maybe they both crave that sense of security, happiness. That Steve only could give them. But he isn’t here anymore, and all they have is each other. So, they might as well hold on to each other.

Sam guided Bucky’s vibranium hand under his shirt, letting him explore every single inch of his vast chest. And this was happening. Bucky wasn’t strong enough to put a stop to this. Because as much as he knows they can’t do this, that this is wrong, he is enjoying every single drag of Sam’s tongue against his neck and can’t bring himself to put it to a stop.

He let his hands trail up Sam’s chest, pinching one of his nipples enjoying the way it drew a shaky breath from Sam. Bucky let out a low moan as Sam’s thigh brushed against his hard-on. And wasn’t that embarrassing, he was painfully hard by just making out. But, he couldn’t bring himself to care as Sam’s hand cupped his balls through his too-tight jeans.

Bucky didn't want Sam to one-up him, so he clumsily unzipped Sam's pants. Pulling them down enough that they rested just right under his ass, exposing Sam’s light grey boxer briefs.

Bucky smirked as his thumb grazed over the dark patch on Sam's underwear. "You seem eager," Bucky whispered out, his voice rough and a few octaves deeper, against the shell of Sam’s ear, darting his tongue out to lick at it.

Sam shuddered against Bucky as he glared at him, "Shut the fuck up," Sam grabbed onto Bucky's hair and slammed their lips together. Sucking onto his tongue, swallowing down the moan that ripped its way out from Bucky’s throat.

Bucky started palming Sam through his underwear, gripping the long length tightly.

And this was happening. He was about to have sex with Sam, it’s a bad idea. A horrible one. But, he really can’t bring himself to care. Can’t bring himself to think about the consequences. After all, right now it wasn’t his problem.

***

He couldn’t sleep. Not that he normally even slept, but this time it wasn’t the nightmares keeping him up. No. It was Sam’s naked body pressed against his back, the slow rise and fall of his chest that was keeping him up.

This wasn’t Bucky’s first time sleeping with a guy. He used to get around before he got drafted, even during the war he used to hook up with soldiers. But, they didn’t do this. They never stayed with each other.

They didn’t even talk after the deed was done. It was dangerous to even hook up with them back then. Bucky knows times have changed. Knows that he doesn’t need to hide this part of him. That it’s not immoral to feel these things. To act upon them.

But that is new. It's a change. Another different thing he needs to get used to.

He isn’t used to whatever the hell this is. He never hooked up with a friend- unless you count Howard, but it was a one-time thing- it was always with strangers. Men he would never see or speak to again. And he was fine with that. He was fine with not having a relationship with a man, after all, it was the 40s.

And he knows he should probably wait for Sam to wake up and figure out where they both stand. After all, this could have always been a one-time thing. They could always go back to being, sort of friends, sort of enemies.

He doesn't need to ignore Sam's entire existence with the fear of someone finding out what they did.

But old habits die hard.

He sat up, being careful not to wake Sam up. Bucky rubbed his flesh arm on his face and stood up. He walked towards the bathroom door and locked it behind him.

He stared at himself in the small mirror on the wall on top of the sink. Dark red hickeys covered his neck downwards until it reached his pectorals. He brought up a hand towards the biggest of them all, located on his collarbone different hues of reds and purples mixed, and ran a light finger over it. Wincing slightly at the contact.

He drifted his eyes over his dark locks of hair, threading his metal finger through them detangling the knots that had formed. His mind drifted back to Sam gripping his hair tightly, pulling on it as Bucky’s lips stretched out around his cock.

Bucky took a step back, letting his arms fall limp. He should stop thinking about Sam, and what happened between them. He should leave, he already has a place in Brooklyn, he just needs to leave. But something is keeping him there.

“Fuck,” Bucky whispered out shakily, finally looking away from the mirror. He was a mess. Bucky doesn’t even know if he will be able to face Sam after this.

He should have stopped it before it escalated. Before they ended up naked writhing against each other. But he didn’t. And now he had to face the consequences of his actions.

Bucky didn’t want to lose whatever fragile thing he had with Sam. Sam was the only person he even remotely knew in this world. But right now he doesn’t know where he stands with him. Doesn’t know if Sam even tolerates him, at the very least.

Bucky was quickly spiraling down a rabbit hole of thoughts he’d rather never get into.

Bucky jumped as a knock on the door echoed around the bathroom, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Bucky? You alright in there?” Sam asked, raising his voice making sure that Bucky would hear him in the bathroom.

Bucky swallowed down the bile that was threatening to come up, his throat feeling way too dry. “Yeah-” Bucky cleared his throat, “-I’ll be out in a minute.”

Bucky kept his ears peeled, waiting to hear the sounds of Sam’s footsteps leaving, walking back towards the bed. But he didn’t hear that. All that he heard was the soft pound of his own beating heart in sync with Sam’s.

“What’re you doing in there?” Sam asked, a yawn making his way out as he talked.

Bucky looked around the bathroom spotting a pair of red scissors, “Cutting my hair,” Bucky answered after a minute of silence. It wasn’t a lie, he had thought about cutting his hair just not now.

Bucky heard Sam hum, “Need any help?”

“Yeah,” Fuck, why did he say yes. He could have avoided Sam a while longer if he said no. He couldn’t face Sam, not now. But the longer he hesitated, waited, the more impatient, worried Sam would get. So against his better judgment, he unlocked the door, and not even a second later Sam opened it. Entering the bathroom in just his boxer briefs.

“Hey,” Bucky whispered, and he was a mess. He didn’t know what to do in a situation like this. But Sam, Sam just smiled and nodded towards the toilet.

“Sit there,” Sam pointed towards the toiled, “Do you have any hair ties for that rat nest you call hair?”Sam asked, grabbing a towel from the rack.

Bucky wordlessly opened the sink cabinet and took out an unopened packet of hair ties. He placed it on top of the sink, next to the soap. As his feet moved on their own accord, or at least it felt like it. He straddled the toilet, leaving his back vulnerable. And even though he knew Sam would never hurt him, he still felt on edge. Tense. Anxious.

He flinched slightly as he felt the rough towel be carefully placed onto his shoulders. Goosebumps rose in his skin as he felt Sam’s breath against his neck.

“Relax, I know what I’m doing,” Sam whispered, Bucky nodded, keeping his lips shut, not trusting himself enough to speak.

Bucky watched Sam. Watched as he walked over to the hair ties and placed a couple of them onto his wrist.

The silence that was stretching out over them bothered Bucky.

Silence.

He hated silence. It made him think. Remember. And he only ever allowed himself to remember at night. Where he was safely hidden from peering eyes, able to let the nightmares haunt him. Destroy him. Eat him up little by little destroying every single good memory he might still have. Because he is James Buchanan Barnes. He is the Winter Soldier. And he deserves it. He deserves to feel the pain he made so many other people feel.

“How do you know how to..” Bucky gestured vaguely to his head. He needed to break the silence and if the awkward small talk was the way, he would do it.

Sam shrugged, dividing Bucky’s hair into two sections. “I have a sister, Sarah, when we were teenagers she went through this phase-” Bucky winced as Sam pulled on a strand of hair, “-sorry, but she went through a phase of wanting to have her hair really short,” Sam smiled, tying one of the ties onto one section of Bucky’s hair.

Bucky hummed, keeping his gaze on his vibranium arm. Sam’s voice was nice. It was comforting.

“She knew if she asked ma' and dad they would say no. So, she forced me every month for a whole year to cut her hair. I'm sure I still have pictures of the first haircut I gave her, it was horrible,” Sam chuckled, leaning over to grab the scissors.

“Any way you want it cut?” Sam whispered, threading his fingers through Bucky’s hair.

Bucky shivered slightly at the contact. It was strangely domestic, and as much as he hated this. Hated whatever was happening between them because he was scared. Scared of what it could mean for them. Scared of what it could mean for Bucky, and his relationship with his sexuality.

“I just want it short,” Bucky whispered, “I want- need a change,”

Sam hummed, “I think I can do that, just don’t get your hopes up,”

And maybe Bucky doesn’t feel comfortable in his skin anymore. And maybe he still feels the anxiety deep within him of the consequences that this might have, but right now he wants to enjoy it. He wants to enjoy this moment before it’s gone.

***

The haircut wasn’t that bad. It reminded him a lot of a long time ago. It reminded him of days when he was still hopeful that the world wasn’t as bad as it seemed. Bucky licked his lips as he stared at himself in the mirror, Sam did a better job than he was expecting.

“You’ve been staring at yourself for a while, do you like it?” Sam asked, meeting Bucky’s gaze through the mirror. Bucky could tell he was nervous, what for, he doesn’t know.

“Yeah, it came out better than I expected.” Bucky forced a smile onto his face. (It was a grimace, but he is still getting used to this again)

Sam rolled his eyes, the smile breaking out on his face betraying the fake glare he sent at Bucky, “I’m guessing that as much as a compliment I’m going to get from you,”

Bucky nodded, still on edge. Tense.

“Alright,” Sam nodded, clapping Bucky on his bare shoulder, “I’m heading back to bed, are you..” Sam trailed off as he stared at Bucky, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

And it was too much for Bucky. The blatant hope that this could be something more was so unfamiliar. That this wasn’t just a fuck and leave situation. That he could have this.

But he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve Sam, he has so many problems and so many issues. He can’t burden Sam with it. And maybe a part of him still believes what he feels for Sam isn’t right. Isn’t normal.

“Some other time-” There was no other time, this was a one time thing only, “-I have to go to Brooklyn, I have, uh, mandated therapy,” Bucky whispered, watching as Sam’s face fell slightly. Bucky could somehow feel the hole in his heart get impossibly bigger. And it hurts.

Sam nodded, “Yeah, of course, guess I’ll see you some other time,” (There wouldn’t be another time to see Sam, Bucky would make sure of it,)

Bucky nodded, “Yeah,” He agreed, ignoring the way the pit in his stomach got impossibly deeper.

Sam walked closer to Bucky, he placed a hand onto Bucky’s waist, his thumb rubbing comforting circles over the skin.

And that just made Bucky leaving Sam even more painful, but it was for the best.

But he can be selfish, for a little bit he can be selfish. So, Bucky dove down, capturing Sam’s lips with his in a kiss. And Sam kissed him back just as passionate. And this isn’t right, this was a lovers kiss, a promise. Something Bucky can’t give Sam.

“Don’t be a stranger,” Sam whispered against his lips.

Days later he would be in his apartment in Brooklyn, sitting on the floor. Ignoring all of Sam’s missed calls and texts. Because Sam deserves better, he doesn’t deserve a mess. And as much as he wants to be selfish, he can’t.

Because whatever he is feeling? He doesn't deserve to feel it. He caused so much pain, he isn't allowed to feel this blossoming love that is slowly spreading.

He is falling. He is falling with nothing to hold on to. Except this time he just hopes it kills him.

#sam wilson #bucky fanfic #the falcon and the winter solider spoilers #oneshot #fatws bucky #marvel #bucky barnes angst #sam wilson deserves the world #sam wilson x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x sam wilson

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