#gonna add this to the pinned for convenience

[2500ji]

sysmate signoffs

this is mostly gonna be in replies of posts. just figured i’d do it for ease

🔹 — oliver (he/him) brainmade

🔮 — olly (she/they/he) brainmade

☁️ — kumo (he/they/☁️/it) brainade / oc introject (kumo shisoka)

🍵 — finch (he/him) brainmade

♠️ — vixy (they/vix/she) brainmade

💜 — rui (any/all) fictive (rui kamishiro)

💌 — shiori (she/her) fictive (rui kamishiro)

🦋 — neptune / kanade (they/she/bug) fictive (kanade yoisaki)

❄️ — kiyoka / yuki (he/him) fictive (mafuyu asahina)

🎻 — narcissus / ena / shiki (he/any) brainmade / fictive (ena shinonome, shiki misaki)

🎀 — miyu / venus (she/🩷/iris) fictive (mizuki akiyama)

as a rule of thumb, if a fictive in our sys uses a name other than one from their source, it’s the one they prefer. if they don’t use a name from their source but you forgot their name, feel free to say “your [character] fictive.” we’ll usually understand who you’re talking about.

[cononeillbreastingboobily]

I got a new tiny playlist. You want it? Go get it! 🏃🏻‍♀️

[sinner-as-saint]

the alchemy

Mob!Bucky x Reader 

Run-through: About a decade ago you left your home and ran away, looking for a fresh start after having had your heart broken by the boy you loved. Now you’re back and turns out Bucky Barnes – the same man who once broke your heart – is adamant on tormenting you some more. But why? Why does he want you back at all cost when he was the one who once pushed you away and crushed your heart like it meant nothing to him? What secrets has he been keeping for almost a decade? Most importantly, what truly happened that night he broke your heart? 

Themes: forced marriage/marriage of convenience, angst, mob!bucky, metal arm, fluff, smut, possessive!bucky, childhood friends-to-enemies-to-lovers trope, bratty!reader, mentions of violence, explicit language, slow burn-ish, HEA 

a/n: new mob!bucky pics dropped–

“I do.” You said in a sombre voice, with blood dripping from the cut on your lip as you sealed your fate and married your worst enemy. 

Bucky’s face was bleeding too, your nails had done some damage earlier when you both got into a physical altercation like wild animals. You nearly smirked when you realised he looked worse than you did. 

Then again you both looked like you went through hell as you stood here, at this makeshift altar, in the middle of what used to be the foyer of your father’s mansion before Bucky and his men shot at it until it was nothing but rubble, broken glass, and cracked marble. 

Messy hair. Cuts and bruises all over your bodies. Dishevelled clothes. Your white jumpsuit had your own bloodstains on it, and his all black suit was torn in certain places. But he looked every bit the man they say he is. Dangerous. Cold, dark presence. The large bruise on his jaw was beginning to get darker now, thanks to the many punches from you. His near shoulder length hair was surprisingly looking neat. It pissed you off. 

You looked like a mess too. And for a brief second, as his blue eyes looked down at your throat, you knew he could see a matching bruise forming around your neck from when he’d pinned you down to the floor earlier with that damned metal arm. 

No one was dead, none of your people and none of his. Thankfully. But right now, as you married the man standing in front of you, you felt dead inside. 

“You may now kiss the bride.” Was all you heard and you remained still as Bucky grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into him. 

You resisted for a moment, but then he pulled you harder until your chests collided and you had no choice but to remain pressed against him. “I’m tired of these games, princess.” He hissed in a lowered voice, looking down at you with his merciless blue eyes. 

You stared back at him with equal contempt. “You’re gonna regret this, Barnes.” You sneered, in a hushed voice. Not that the injured family members and men surrounding you – both his men and your father’s guards who stood and watched the show in disbelief and shock would mind the disrespect for each other in both your tones – but you didn’t want to add to the ridiculousness of this situation. 

“Oh?” He taunted with a faint smirk. Only then did you notice the small cut on his upper lip. It brought you a little solace. “You’re my wife now, you will do as I say.” 

The bitterness in your tone matched his as you said, “We’ll see about that, husband.” 

You could tell he’d accepted the unspoken challenge, and he would do anything to win. After all, everything was a game to Bucky Barnes. He didn’t care who he used, who he manipulated, or who he tossed aside. He paraded around like he owned this world and everything and everyone in it. 

Bucky scoffed then leaned in to kiss you, hard. It wasn’t a loving kiss in any way. It was possessive though. Like he was putting on a show for whoever was watching, making sure everyone in this dilapidated room understood that you were his now. 

You kissed him back, angrily. You despised him. Your entire family did. But they couldn’t save you this time. Bucky’s attack was unexpected. Your guards were unprepared. You were the last line of defence and this… union was necessary. You had to offer something, anything. Otherwise Bucky and his guys threatened to burn down your half of the city and turned it to ash immediately. 

But it wasn’t always like this. Your families used to be allies. You actually grew up with Bucky, he tolerated you enough back then and you had always had a crush on him. 

Then that night happened almost a decade ago… 

It was your twentieth birthday party, and your father made an announcement which you were not ready for. 

He announced to the ballroom filled with important people that you were to marry Bucky, and that both families were beyond happy to transform their friendship into something more solid through this alliance. 

You remained frozen in place for long minutes after that announcement was made, even though your heart raced like never before. No one had told you about this, but judging by the way your family hugged and congratulated Bucky’s family you understood that this was all planned. 

You kept that smile on your face though, as people walked over to congratulate you. You looked around and tried to find Bucky in the crowd to see if he knew about this but he was nowhere to be found. 

You were certain he was here just a moment ago, leaning against one of the pillars and brooding as always. And he’d just disappeared. 

The announcement made your heart flutter incessantly. After all, you’d always had a huge crush on Bucky. How could you not? He was the boy you grew up around, he had pretty eyes and nice hair. Sure he was broody and rarely ever smiled but you liked how it suited his bad boy personality. And your young heart was weak for the handsome boy with tattoos and blue eyes. 

After people were done congratulating you, you discretely walked out of the party and decided to look around and try to find Bucky. You hated how giddy you were. Sure, Bucky was broody and rarely ever laughed. He spent his entire time glaring at you then getting jealous when you talked to other guys. But you had liked him since forever. 

You looked all over your father’s mansion. Bucky was nowhere to be found indoors. So… maybe the pool area outside? You started walking in that direction, feeling like a princess in your white ball gown as you walked down an empty hallway, a faint smile on your face as you looked for the man you were meant to marry soon. 

Maybe Bucky knew about this announcement. Maybe he was okay with it. Maybe this would be your fairytale in real life, you thought. Maybe you’d melt his frozen heart and everything would be perfect. Maybe he liked you back all along and you just never knew! 

“...marry her?” 

Your smile vanished as you stopped right before you stepped outside onto the patio. Was that Bucky’s voice? Was he talking to someone? You quietly stepped closer, hiding behind the plants as you tried your hardest to listen to what he was saying. 

You could see him, standing on the black tiles by the pool. He had his back to you, and he held a phone to his ear. His broad shoulders and lean waist accentuated by how well that black suit moulded to his muscular body. You watched as he ran his fingers through his short black hair in frustration. 

Who was he talking to? 

“No!” He barked at the phone. “Did you not listen to what I just said? I don’t want to do this!” He yelled, not bothering that anyone around might hear him. “I tried to talk them out of it! This is so fucking stupid!” 

You blinked in surprise, unable to process what you were hearing. 

“I don’t care what I have to do, but I will not marry her.” He said with enough venomous certitude that a silent tear fell down your face. 

All your previous delusions turned to nothing but heavy disappointment. It made you feel stupid. This gown felt stupid. The diamonds around your neck, around your wrists and in your hair felt stupid. How stupid of you to think this was all going to end well? How stupid of you to think your childhood crush actually meant something? How stupid of you to think that there was a chance he liked you back? Of course he didn’t. He wouldn’t have ignored you for years if he did. 

You couldn’t stop the sudden sob that escaped your mouth. Afraid that he might have heard, you took a few steps back and hid behind a nearby, tall potted shrub. 

Things were quiet for a moment or two. You heard him whispering so quietly you couldn’t make out what he said. Your face burned in embarrassment at the thought of him finding you here. You already felt stupid and childish, you didn’t want to get caught eavesdropping in this situation. 

But then he resumed talking on the phone. You couldn’t risk moving to look at him so you remained hiding, and listened. Your heart broke with each word that left his mouth. 

“And she’s so blind she doesn’t even see it.” He hissed, louder this time. “I barely tolerate her. Her whiny, and bratty attitude. I mean she’s a grown woman and still acts like she’s daddy’s little princess.” He scoffed. “You should’ve seen her today, she looks like a kid’s toy with that ridiculous dress on.” 

More tears streamed down your face as you heard nothing but distaste and irritation in his voice. This was the boy you had a hopeless crush on? This is what he thought of you? 

You didn’t need to hear more. This was more than enough to completely break you so you turned around and quietly walked back down the same hallway. You wiped your tears, and put a fake smile on as you went back to your party. This time with a plan in your head. 

You endured the party with a heavy heart. Faked some more smiles until it ended. You didn’t see Bucky again for the rest of the night, which was good. By the early hours of the morning, everyone had left. You wandered around that empty ballroom like a ghost that night. For hours. Thinking, plotting. It was clear Bucky didn’t want this. And now neither did you. But your families had announced it. So what exactly could you do? 

By the time the sun rose, you had already written a note to your father and left it on his desk. By the time the sky brightened, your bags were packed and you were already driving out of the mansion grounds. And you knew that by the time your father would go into his office and find that note, you would already be on a plane, on your way out of here. 

You didn’t give too many details in the note. You simply said that you were leaving, not knowing when or if you’d be back. 

Truth was, you had no solid plans. All you knew was that you needed to get away from home. 

You didn’t know that when you’d return home – almost a decade later, so much would have changed. 

Your father was angry. Livid actually, that you’d been away for years without contact. You briefly explained why you needed to leave. And how you’d been able to make a name for yourself elsewhere. But after he was done berating you for what you did when you were twenty and stupid, he filled you in on all that you’d missed in the past decade almost. 

Some important points were: your family and Bucky were no longer allies, but were now each others’ worst rivals but no one knew that. The city was now secretly divided – your family ruled and controlled one side, and Bucky ruled the other. 

“It’s just him now?” You had asked, and your father nodded. 

“A lot happened after you left, actually–”

A loud noise cut him off. Rounds of bullets shot at the windows of the house, from all sides it seemed. And it was pure chaos. You could hear your guards fighting back, but even by just hearing the commotion you could tell you were severely outnumbered. 

But whoever it was, they weren’t shooting at anyone, just at windows – making enough noise to get your attention and to get you to come outside. 

You marched out of the room despite your father ordering you not to. And you were halfway down the grand stairs when he walked in and spotted you immediately with a smug look on his face. 

Bucky. Walked in like he owned the place. He stopped in the middle of the foyer, which was now ruined. Bits and pieces of concrete and glass all over the marble floor. Flower pots destroyed, the gilded mirror in pieces as well. He made a mess of the home you grew up in and you almost shot him right in the heart there and then. 

Here was the man who once broke your heart after making you think for years that maybe you had a chance. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You hissed. You could hear your father coming to a stop on the landing several steps behind you. He was unprepared. You were armed with only one handgun tucked into your pocket. Your guards were outnumbered. This was a shitshow. 

The guards – his and yours – stopped firing and now just stood all over the place on high alert. And you knew, deep down in your gut you just knew something which you weren’t ready for was about to happen. 

“I see you’re finally home, princess.” Bucky just gave you a cold smile and shoved his hands in his pockets. The action drew your attention to one specific thing. The metal arm. You frowned at it in confusion, but didn’t react. 

But that word… ‘princess’ brought back memories which chased you out of this place. And it only fueled your anger. 

“What the fuck do you want?” 

He lifted his nose slightly in the air, like the arrogant prick he had always been. “I’m here to collect what I was promised.” His voice was strong and confident. “A bride. Now you have a choice, princess. Either we do this in peace and no one gets hurt, or…” 

He didn’t even have to finish his sentence because on cue, one of his guards sneakily appeared on the landing behind you, holding a gun to your father’s head. You froze for a moment. The look on your father’s face made everything so serious all of a sudden. You had to be extra careful here. 

“You wouldn’t.” 

He scoffed, “Wouldn’t I?” 

You argued, “It’s been almost a decade.” 

“I don’t care. We were supposed to marry each other–,” 

You cut him off, “Yes, and you didn’t want that, did you? I heard you on the phone that night.” You finally confessed. “By the pool. I remember every single word that came out of your fucking mouth. So don’t come here acting like you’re entitled to–,” 

“You think you know everything, don’t you?” He smirked, shaking his head. “Is that why you ran away? And didn’t come home for a decade? Because you spied on me that night and didn’t like what you heard?” 

That did it. One moment you were standing on the stairs, afraid that your father might get hurt and the next you had your gun out and shot right at his metal arm, knowing it wouldn’t hurt him but it would make him lower his guard for just a second. 

And that one second was enough to jump him and punch him right in the jaw. Fuck, it hurt but it also felt so damn good. All those years you’d been away, you were also training in your free time. And you knew you were good at combat. 

But so was he. A few punches in and he managed to throw you down on the floor and pin you to the ground with that same metal hand around your throat, keeping you in place. You didn’t know why his guards just stood and did nothing, as though they had been ordered not to shoot at anyone here. 

But you weren’t under any such orders, so you managed to land another punch to his jaw before he yelled, “Enough!” Right in your face. “Stop this shit, or I swear to–,” 

You cut him off by punching him again, trying to get free the moment you felt his metal hand get loose around your throat. He growled in annoyance and tightened his grip. 

“You’re like a wild fucking animal. Stop!” 

You gritted your teeth at the insult and scratched his face exactly like how a wild animal would. You tried everything, tried to punch him again, tried to scratch down his neck and arms which only tore his shirt instead of his skin. You went for yet another punch and only then did you feel another pair of arms – one of his guards – pulling your hands away from his face. You thrashed and tried your hardest to break free but you couldn’t and ended up biting your own lip rather badly in the process. 

“I fucking hate you, Bucky Barnes!” You hissed, defeated, and now with a bleeding, throbbing cut on your lip which matched his. 

Bucky kept his hand around your neck as he leaned in menacingly and whispered, “Hate me all you want, princess. But you will marry me. Right here. Right now.” 

And that’s how you found yourself kissing your husband, in the foyer of your father’s ruined mansion. With your helpless father, and the many guards as witnesses. 

You pulled away from the kiss, breathless and angrier than earlier. Jaws clenched, you were ready to tackle him to the ground again, maybe actually shoot him with your gun this time, but he spoke before you could say anything. 

“Let’s go.” He spoke, and like the loyal followers that they were, all of his guards silently walked out of your house. And Bucky grabbed your hand firmly in his and began pulling you out of the house as well. 

You resisted again. “Wait! You brute!” You pulled your hand away from his and ran back up the stairs to your father. “I ruined everything, I’m sorry.” 

He just hugged you and told you to be careful and be smart. And that he forgives you. You promised you’d come to see him soon. And then you left, refusing to take Bucky’s hand again as you walked out of your father’s house. 

You needed to think. You couldn’t fight him right now. Besides, it’s not like you married him legally. All Bucky wanted was to make a scene and you let him. For now. You’d need some time to come up with a plan and decide what needed to be done. But for now… 

“If you’re thinking about running away and disappearing for a decade again, you better stop. You’re not getting away this time. You hear me?” Bucky spoke, sitting next to you in the backseat of his car as the driver drove to his side of the city, to his house surely. That authoritative tone of his made you want to scratch his face again. 

“You seem to be under the impression that you’re in control here, Barnes. Just know, I could still shoot you right now if I wanted to.” You didn’t look at him, you looked out the window. At the city that had changed in your absence. 

“Ouch.” He faked his surprise. Then proceeded to put his arm around your shoulders to pull you into his chest, leaning down he whispered into your ear, “That’s not a nice way of treating your new husband, now is it?” 

You gave him a fake smile, ignoring the way your brain thought he smelled delicious, and reached into your pocket to pull out your handgun. Placing the cold barrel right under his chin you said, “Try me, husband.” 

The driver cleared his throat in nervousness and you didn’t want to traumatise the man so you pulled your gun away but left it in Bucky’s line of sight. He pulled away then, pulling his hand away from your shoulders but placed his metal hand on your thigh. A possessive move. 

Yet that didn’t bother as much. But the metal hand? Where did that come from? What happened while you were gone? 

He answered your questions voluntarily. “Got caught in a crossfire. I got shot too many times, the arm was beyond saving. So I had the metal arm made. It’s a very intricate technology, but it works just fine.” He said, flexing the hand on your skin. 

You didn’t miss the hidden sexual connotation in that last part of his sentence. And you certainly couldn’t ignore the way your body responded to the cold, metal touch. It looked… badass. Not that you would ever tell him. 

You tried to look out the window again, but his touch on your thigh was more distracting than you wanted it to be. It was all you could focus on. Just to stop thinking about it you said, “I don’t have any of my things.” 

“It’s all been taken care of. Don’t worry.” He answered, looking down at his phone. Acting like he didn’t know his hand on your thigh was messing you up. 

Still you frowned at his answer, “What do you mean it’s been taken care of?” Then you paused and thought about it for a moment, “Did you–” You sighed, “You knew I was coming, didn’t you? Did you have people spying on me?” 

He shrugged, “You thought I would let my betrothed be out there in the world without keeping an eye on her?” He scoffed, looking up from his phone for a brief moment, “Of course I did. I know everything about you. I even know all about that secret, women-only army you created.” He added, “I was half expecting them to pop out of nowhere earlier at your father’s house.” 

You were in disbelief. This whole time you thought you’d hid well. But no. 

“Where are they anyway? Your girls?” He asked, and for once it didn’t sound like a taunt. It sounded like he was genuinely curious. 

“Probably out hunting and beheading men who think they can get away with forcing women into marrying them by threatening to kill their fathers.” You gave him another one of your fake smiles, “I’ve trained them well.” 

Bucky smiled back. “Well good. When they get here to try and free you, we could unite our forces. We’ll be untouchable then, you and I. I have the money and you have an army.” He winked. “Ultimate power couple.” 

“You won’t get away with this, Barnes.” 

He looked out of the window and said, “I just came to collect what was promised to be mine that night.” 

You argued, bitterly, “Oh we both know what happened that night.” 

“I do.” He said, “But do you? Do you really?” 

You remained quiet for a moment. This was the second time he questioned your knowledge of what truly happened that night. As if you hadn’t heard him loud and clear on that phone call. 

“You–,” 

He cut you off and looked out the window as he said, “We’re home.” 

It had been a long day. And you were running out of energy so instead of arguing some more, you just followed him out of the car and remained stunned for a moment as you looked at his house. It wasn’t his family home. This one seemed new. 

It was just as large as your father’s mansion, just a lot more contemporary compared to the more Georgian architecture-inspired one you grew up in. 

Bucky’s house sat on a sprawling green and pristine property. It was a perfect blend of sleek architecture and a glass house, which allowed the right amount of privacy but also allowed glimpses of the warm, farmhouse inspired interior. Even from outside you could tell it was homey and bright inside. 

Before you could get a word out, you felt his hands on you again. You tensed up and almost hit him again in defence but before you could, Bucky was carrying you bridal style – literally – and marching towards the large doors of his ridiculously pretty home. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” You questioned, squirming just a little in the intimate embrace. 

“Traditions,” He said, looking down at you, “Can’t have you trip at the doorstep and risk bringing bad luck into our marriage.” 

You frowned at him, reluctantly wrapping your arms around his neck for support. “You say ‘our marriage’ like it’s gonna be a real thing. It won’t, Barnes. I’ll be out of here before you–,” 

He used you to push open the door and the warm interior of the home shut you up. For some reason you never imagined someone like Bucky would live in a house that actually looked like a home. You pictured him living in some villain’s lair. 

But this was… beautiful. 

You squirmed into his arms until he finally set you down carefully. You stood there for a minute, in the foyer, just looking around. Then you couldn’t help but say, “It would be a real pain if someone just started shooting at the windows of your house like a madman, wouldn’t it?” You waved your gun in front of his face. 

“I’ll send people over tomorrow morning to fix your father’s house.” 

“You don’t even sound apologetic.” You scoffed. 

“I’m not.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Was it necessary? To shoot at my house like that? You couldn’t just, I don’t know, ring the doorbell to get me to come outside? You absolutely had to be a child?” 

He smirked then said, “First of all, that isn’t your house anymore. This is where you live now, and you will call this your home. Second of all, why blame me when you acted just as childish when you decided to run away all those years ago? Third of all, I did it because, well, I do like some drama.” 

You couldn’t not believe him. “You amaze me with your stupidity, Barnes.” 

“You amaze me with your bratty attitude, Mrs. Barnes.” 

You stepped closer to him, slow and in a threatening manner. “Don’t call me that.” 

“Don’t call me that.” 

You sighed, “You know you’re still that little boy who used to bully everyone when we played as kids.” 

He clarified, “No, I bullied you because you were annoying. Everyone else was fine.” 

“I hate you.” You said with enough hostility you hoped it would shut him up. 

It didn’t. “Well, see.” He took your hand in his and said slowly as if talking you down, “That’s something we’ll work on together as a couple.” 

You pulled your hand away and were so tempted to just– 

“Come,” he said, “I’ll show you where our room is.” You began protesting immediately but he cut you off by saying, “Stop being fucking difficult. We’re married now, act like it.” 

“I want a separate room!” 

“No.” 

“I’m not sleeping with you!” 

“Then don’t. But you will sleep in my bed. Like my wife should.” 

“You’re a fucking animal!” You tried tugging your hand free from his grasp. 

Bucky had had enough. So he pinned you to the nearest surface, which happened to be the closed door of his bedroom. He grabbed both your wrists in his metal hand and pinned them above your head. His face was just inches away from yours, and he stared deep into your eyes. 

Your mind immediately went to that harsh kiss you’d shared earlier. And you hated how your body squirmed just as the thought of it. You refused to think about it any more, but his mouth was just so, so close. The cut on his lip, the slight stubble on his cheek and around his mouth, the texture of his skin, you were picking up on details you’d missed. 

Bucky spoke in a calm, deep voice which sent shivers down your spine. “Let’s be adults here, okay? You stop acting like a brat, and I’ll stop treating you like one.” He said, pressing his chest into yours. “It’s been a long day, and I know you’re running out of energy as well so stop resisting me. If I was an animal, I would’ve dragged you to bed right now and would’ve made you mine in every sense of the word.” He whispered, his voice cold and dangerous. “But I’m not. So you will walk into this room, and head straight for a warm shower and after you’re done we’re gonna clean these wounds. Am I clear?” 

You nodded quickly, like an idiot entranced by his gorgeous voice. 

“Use your words, princess. Am I clear?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good. Let’s go.” 

— 

You leaned against the counter, wrapped in a fluffy robe and another towel wrapped around your wet hair, and Bucky was cleaning the cut on your lip. 

His wounds were all cleaned. It looked like he had used a different shower while you were in here. His long hair was damp and tied into a small bun, with strands of his dark hair falling on either side of his face. He had changed into a tight black t-shirt and PJ trousers. It was frustrating to look at him. Because he looked so damn good. 

Last time you’d seen him was when he was a twenty year old boy. He’d changed since. He seemed taller somehow. Or maybe it was just the muscles making him look bigger. 

You couldn’t look away from the metal arm. And the intricate details on it. 

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” He asked, throwing the used cotton balls and napkins in the trash can. 

You didn’t miss the way he was being gentle all of a sudden. Calm voice, calm movement. Very different from the man who’d forced you to marry him just hours ago. 

“No.” You answered, turning around to look in the mirror. The bruise on your neck was very much visible now. You didn’t notice Bucky approaching you again, you didn’t notice how close he got, not until he reached out and touched your neck with his warm fingers. 

And for the first time, he sounded genuine when he said, “I’m sorry. About that.” 

You met his eyes through the mirror and remained quiet for a moment. For a brief moment you thought back to that night. What if you hadn’t heard him on the phone? What if you had married him back then? Would this be a normal, daily thing? Sharing a bathroom, a bed? 

“I punched you. Multiple times. This makes us equal.” 

Bucky scoffed, then nodded. Then said, “Come to bed when you’re done.” And left you alone in the bathroom. 

Shit. You stared at yourself in the mirror. What a day. All you wanted was to pay your father a visit and maybe spend some days at home and then fly back to where you came from. Having your father’s house be attacked, getting married, and having to share a bedroom with the man who once broke your heart… yeah, all that wasn’t in the plan. 

You changed into some comfy PJs Bucky had brought you earlier and walked out into the bedroom. You found Bucky on his phone again, standing by the foot of the bed. 

“Which side do you sleep on?” He asked, not looking up from his phone. 

“Uh, right.” You answered, because for some reason now he felt the need to ask for your opinion. 

Bucky didn’t say a word as he moved to the left side of the bed and peeled back the covers before getting in. Like this was just another day. Like this was normal. You awkwardly walked to your side of the bed and just stood there for a moment. 

“Just get in bed. I won’t touch you.” 

He didn’t even look at you as he spoke and, well, the lack of attention from him bothered you. Oh what the hell. You pulled the covers and got under them. You curled onto your side, with your back facing him. 

Soon, you heard him click something and all the lights turned off. You sensed movement behind you but that was it. He didn’t touch you. In fact, there was so much distance between you two that your back felt cold. And now that annoyed you as well. 

You couldn’t sleep. 

An hour went by, you still couldn’t sleep. 

Another hour went by, and now you’d begun tossing and turning so much that you heard Bucky groaning. 

“Will you stop that?” 

“I can’t sleep.” You mumbled.

“Don’t make it my problem. Stop moving.” 

“Wow. Some husband you are.” 

Silence. Then you felt your body sliding across the bed as Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into his warm chest. 

“What the–,” 

“Shh.” He cut you off, his warm breath tickling your cheek as he spooned you from behind. “It’s cold. We could both use the warmth. Now go to sleep.” 

You scoffed, but didn’t move. “Your fancy house doesn’t have a thermostat? Fix the temperature.” 

“I like this better.” 

“I better not find your hands wandering.” 

You moved around for a bit, finding a comfortable spot. Then you moved some more and Bucky tightened his arm around you and whispered into your ear, “Stop wiggling against my cock. I understand it’s our wedding night and all but I’m too tired to do anything.” 

Your face burned in embarrassment. You tried to put some distance between your bodies, even though you liked his body heat, but thankfully Bucky pulled you right back. 

“Did I say you can move?” He chided. 

“What now, I need your permission to get comfortable in bed?” 

“Brat.” 

“Asshole.” 

— 

You didn’t know when you fell asleep at night. But the heat from Bucky’s chest definitely helped. It must’ve been that. And in the middle of the night, you must’ve searched for more heat. That was probably the only reason why you woke up and found yourself sprawled all over him, face into the crook of his neck and both your hands under his shirt, legs tangled with his. 

“You call me an animal. But look at you. Touching me while I was sleeping.” He mumbled. “Shameless.” 

You pulled away so fast, but then regretted it. Because now you missed his warmth. You shivered even under the covers. “Would it kill you to keep your damn house a little warmer?” 

He just yawned and got out of bed. “Get ready.” He said, “We might have a guest coming over. And you have to be a good little wife and play host.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Oh you will.” He teased, “Soon.” Then he winked and walked out of the room. 

Well, he at least was giving you some privacy and let you have this bathroom all to yourself. Screw his and his mind games. First he barges into your house, forces you to marry him, then cuddles you to sleep. 

You caught yourself frowning multiple times while you showered, did some skin care, and found the closet on the other side of the room. You weren’t even surprised when you found a whole section filled with all you could need. All the shoes seemed like they would fit you, all the outfits as well. 

Nothing fazed you anymore. Not even the fact that your new husband might be a bit of a stalker. How else would he know your underwear size!? And there were drawers full of them. 

You tried not to worry too much as you got dressed. You were gonna get out of here soon anyway. 

Once dressed and ready for the day, you got downstairs and immediately heard Bucky’s voice, along with another voice. They were laughing over something. You found out where they were and approached the high-ceilinged, charming, farmhouse-inspired kitchen which blended with a spacious, cosy dining area. 

The other man had his back to you, but you knew that voice. Even though you hadn’t heard it in years. 

“Sam?” You couldn’t help but call out, lingering by the large doorway. Bucky remained leaning against the kitchen counter with a coffee mug in his hand, while Sam got up from where he sat at the breakfast counter. 

He turned around and his familiar, warm brown eyes met yours. He gave you a comforting smile. You, Sam, and Bucky all grew up together, along with some other kids from families similar to yours. And Sam had always been a sweetheart. You’d missed him. 

So you didn’t even hesitate to walk right into his arms once he opened them, wanting a hug. You squeezed him tight and said, “I thought I’d never see you again, Sammy!” 

Sam hugged you back just as tight, “I can’t believe I haven’t seen you in almost a decade.” He pulled away to look down at you before giving you a loud kiss on the cheek. Safe to say, he was just as handsome as he was when you left this place. “How have you been?” 

You looked over Sam’s broad shoulder and found a broody Bucky. “I’ve been better.” 

Sam got really serious, and was about to say something but Bucky’s voice rumbled from behind. “That’s enough hugging and smooching. Sam, stop touching my wife.” 

“Ooh, your wife.” Sam teased, before letting go of you and letting you walk out of his arms. “First of all, why didn’t you tell me you two were planning to get married this whole time?” He asked Bucky in an accusatory tone. “My childhood friends got married and I wasn’t even invited.” 

Sam sat back down at the breakfast counter, so he didn’t see the questioning stare you sent Bucky. So Sam wasn’t aware of the circumstances under which you got married? Of course he didn’t. Nobody knew, and Bucky wasn’t about to tell anyone 

“It all happened so quickly, Sam.” You placed a gentle hand on his shoulder as you said, “Bucky was… impatient. Even my father didn’t have time to prepare much. It all just, you know, happened.” You spoke as you helped yourself to some breakfast, taking a seat at the table where you could see both men well. 

You didn’t miss the way Bucky’s jaws kept clenching and unclenching as you tiptoed the line between telling the truth and lying to Sam. 

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, “I know how impatient he can be.” He glared at Bucky, who shook his head in disbelief. 

“I take it you two work together now?” You only asked because you remember how the parents would always talk about how wonderful it would be if these two boys worked together. Apparently they made a great team back then. 

“We do.” Bucky answered, placing his mug down before turning around and began chopping some things. 

“You see,” Sam began explaining in a playful tone. “After everything happened, Bucky was all along. Poor little princeling with no guidance and a kingdom to run.” You saw Bucky shaking his head at Sam’s words. Sam continued, “So I knew I had to step in and become his mentor. He wouldn’t have survived without me.” 

You made a mental note to ask about what ‘everything’ he was referring to, but couldn’t help but smile at the camaraderie between them, despite it all. Sam had always been a good company. He was the sun rays filtering through dark clouds, and Bucky was the dark, gloomy day who needed the sun’s brightness. 

“Wouldn’t have survived.” Bucky muttered, mocking his friend. “You helped me train sometimes. You introduced me to people. That’s about it.” He clarified, bringing over a bowl of chopped fruit over to you and pushed it towards you without a word said. 

You liked fruits for breakfast. And you assumed he remembered. But he did it all too casually. As if he did it every day. You didn’t want to cause a scene so you accepted the bowl quietly. 

“That’s about it?” Sam shook his head, then turned to you. “I took care of him like a parent–,”

“No you didn’t. You–” 

“–and this is how he treats me. I should’ve let you bleed out from that bullet wound that one time. Maybe you wouldn’t be here disrespecting me then.” 

You chuckled, clearly on Sam’s team. Bucky didn’t like that. “What about my wife then? Who would be taking care of her?” 

“I would.” Sam answered without missing a beat. “We all know if not you then I was gonna marry her.” He turned to you, knowing damn well he was gonna get a reaction out of Bucky any time now. Sam lived to mess with Bucky after all. He always did, ever since you were all kids. “Wouldn’t you have married me if Bucky had died?” He asked you with that mischievous smile on his face. 

“I–,” 

“You answer that and you’ll never see Sam again.” Bucky said, narrowing his eyes at you, before you couldn’t get a word out of your mouth. 

Sam smirked triumphantly. 

You rolled your eyes at Bucky and looked right at Sam and said, “I would’ve married you in a heartbeat, Sammy.” 

Sam went to grab your hand, surely to bring it up to his lips for a kiss, but Bucky threw a napkin right at him before he could. 

“You touch my wife again and I swear–,” 

“Must you always threaten people?” You asked, glaring at Bucky. 

He glared back. And opened his mouth to say something but Sam cut him off. “Hey, hey, kids. No fighting.” He quickly changed the topic, “Now, since you have gotten married and no one was there, how about a party? To announce it to everyone? We could invite the whole city.” 

Party. Yeah right. The last time you attended an extravagant party you had your heart broken. Not just broken, but stepped onto and crushed to a pulp. 

You went to say no, “Maybe we shouldn’t–,” 

But Bucky declared, “Absolutely we should. After all, we waited almost a decade to marry each other.” He looked right at you as he said that. “It’s time everyone knows you’re finally mine.” 

“Perfect!” Sam began planning immediately. He had always been the life of all parties, and he loved them. 

While you occasionally answered his questions, you didn’t stop glaring at your husband while you finished your breakfast. There was something he was hiding. You were certain of it. But what? 

— 

A couple days later, it was finally the night of the party. 

The past few days had been more or less similar. You’d always wake up sprawled all over Bucky’s chest, and he always made a teasing comment about it. You’d have breakfast in silence, after which he’d disappear and then he’d come home in the evenings. You never talked while having dinner. 

The one time you did talk, it didn’t end well. 

You brought it up at dinner. “I tried to go out today. Your people followed me into the city.” 

“Our people.” He corrected. Bucky didn’t find anything wrong with that apparently because he simply said, “And they’re your security detail. They’ve been ordered to follow you.” 

“So I don’t escape?” 

“So you’re always safe.” 

“Oh come on. You can’t keep me here forever.” 

He shrugged, “You’re not being kept. This is your home, we’re married. This is where you live now.” 

You stood up from the table.You didn’t care that the housekeepers you’d been recently introduced to could hear. “And who are you to make that decision for me?” You asked, in a surprisingly calm tone. 

He replied in a similar tone. “Your husband.” 

You sighed, trying your hardest to keep it all contained. “I have a life, you know? A totally separate life I’ve been living since I left this place. I have to get back to it at some point. You proved your point. Now let me go.” 

He ignored all of that. “I’m working on transferring all your businesses and staff here.” He announced. “I’m buying a brand new building in the city, you can have it and set it up however you want. The only thing I can’t find is your secret army of highly trained soldiers.” 

“You’ll never find my girls.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“They’re trained to outrun men like you. All men, in fact.” You added, “I made sure of that. I made sure they’d never be used and moved around like pieces on a chessboard then discarded by people like you.” 

“Sounds like you speak from experience.” 

“Fuck you, Barnes.” You spat before walking away. 

You made sure to sleep on the very edge of the gigantic bed that night, as far away from him as possible. But in the morning, you still woke up snuggled into his chest, on his side of the bed, like you’d been trying to burrow under his skin seeking warmth at night. 

You didn’t speak after that. You made sure to ignore him. Each time you left the house, to go see your father or to just roam around the city you’d missed so much, you’d look in the rear view mirror and find big, bulky SUVs following you around. 

And here you were now, after days of silent treatment, you stood in front of the large mirror in the closet of your bedroom and watched your reflection. Of course the bastard had chosen an extravagant evening gown for you to wear which looked eerily similar to the one you wore that night for your birthday almost ten years ago. 

Except this one was much more elegant. And looked a lot like a wedding dress. With its simple square neckline, thin straps, fitted bodice and a majestic skirt. All white and sparkly. The last time you felt like a princess, the night ended terribly. So this time you were afraid to even let yourself appreciate the beautiful woman in the mirror who stared back at you. 

You kept fidgeting, with the skirt of the dress, watching it swish around. You didn’t notice Bucky approaching you from behind. Not until he stood right behind you, his chest brushing against your slight exposed back. 

He looked… unreal in his all black suit. Shiny black tie and a small shiny pin. His hair was perfect as always, and his all black outfit really made his eyes seem bluer than ever. Or maybe it was the lights in this closet that did it. But it made you notice the lines by his eyes, which gave away just how much time had gone by. 

He was still that bad boy with tattoos whom you had a crush on, who made your race whenever he looked at you. Except now he was older, meaner. And your husband. Whom you hated. 

Did you? 

You tensed up when he placed a hand on your waist, right where the bodice and skirt were sewn together. You met his eyes through the mirror, but said nothing. You had no mean words to throw at him this time and neither did he. 

“You look beautiful.” He said, leaning in just a little to rest his cheek against your temple. 

You froze at the soft touch which drove you insane. You must be ovulating, you thought, because there was no way that mere touch was making your heart race like this for no other reason. You began breathing faster, that’s how fast your heart was racing. 

You almost leaned into his touch, ready to forget it all just for one moment of warmth. Of peace and quiet. Just one moment to appreciate that you looked beautiful and you had your husband’s attention and all was well. To appreciate that you two look great together. To stop fighting this weird alchemy between you two which kept drawing you to one another no matter what. But then you remembered. 

“Do I?” You asked, keeping your voice steady. “You sure I don’t look like a kid’s toy with this ridiculous dress on?” 

He remembered too, judging by the look on his face. He looked surprised, then briefly apologetic before settling on a familiar, broody frown. “What did I say about being a brat?” 

“I’ll stop being a brat when you stop being an asshole.” You scoffed. “You always were so… careless. With people. With everything. Always thinking you were above everyone else, ever since we were just kids.” You added, “I hate you.” 

He smirked, then grabbed your elbow and turned you around so he could look at you, or glare at you with his ocean blue eyes. “You didn’t hate me back then, did you?” He pushed you against the closest surface, which happened to be a wooden dresser. “You craved my attention back then. You used to find excuses to hold my hand when we were little. When we got older you used to hate it when I looked at other girls at school. Now look at you. You’re in my house, you sleep in my bed.” He leaned in, whispering in your ear, “You’re my wife. Then why do you keep resisting me, hmm?” 

“I was stupid back then. Wasted so much time trying to get your attention, and all I ever was to you was a whiny, bratty–,” You cut yourself off with a surprised gasp as you watched Bucky lower to his knees in front of you, his hands lifting the skirt of your dress. He was rough with it, crumpling it in his strong fists. “What are you doing?” You asked, shocked and surprised but not making a move to get away. “You– you’re ruining my dress.” 

He looked up at you, bunching some of the fabric near your waist and holding the front part of your dress up, pinning the bunched up skirt at your abdomen. As if he wanted to– 

Your entire face burned when you realised just how close and intimate this was. 

“I bought this dress. I’ll ruin it if I want to.” He spoke in that arrogant tone you weren’t sure you entirely hated at this moment. “You’re lucky I’m not tearing it off of you.” 

“And you’re lucky I’m not–,” 

He cut you off by leaning in and kissing your inner thigh. Just like that. As if you weren’t on the verge of arguing just now. You were still processing that soft kiss he left on your thigh, and he was already moving to spread your legs apart as he slowly looked up, waiting to see if you’d tell him to stop or push him away. 

You didn’t. 

His eyes remained focused on your face as his hand reached out and he ran his metal knuckles between your legs, along your wet folds through your thin underwear, making you shudder at his mere touch. You flinched at the cold, but didn’t pull away. 

“You’re dripping.” He commented, slowly sliding down your underwear. “Does arguing with me turn you on, baby? Is that why you do it all the time?” He smirked, finally throwing your underwear to the side. 

You glared at him, opening your mouth to argue yet again but you ended up just letting out a soft moan as you felt his metal fingertips gently trail up and down your legs. He chuckled at how sensitive and responsive you were. Bucky placed a kiss on your inner thigh again and you gasped.

“Looks like you haven’t been taken care of in a while.” He said, moving his fingers over your clit, circling it slowly. “Have you?” He sounded like he was accusing you.

“No.” You hissed, angry at how much you didn’t mind his touch. “You barged in and married me before I could go out and find someone who might–,” 

“I tolerate you talking to and about Sam because he’s our friend.” He cut you off. “But if I hear you talking about any other man, I promise I will be committing unnecessary crimes and it’ll all be on you.” He paused, glaring at you. “You hear me?” 

You nodded. Fuck he looked good from up here. 

He held your stare as he leaned in and placed his mouth to your core, giving your clit a firm such before his warm tongue slipped past your folds and teased your dripping hole. One hand holding part of your dress up while the metal one worked in tandem with his tongue, circling your throbbing clit and parting your wet folds with ease. 

“Should’ve known you’d taste like fucking heaven,” He whispered, almost to himself. 

You couldn’t hold the moans and whimpers in, feeling his stubble rubbing against your soft skin, craving more of it. You couldn’t help but slide hesitant fingers into his hair, pulling him closer. “Please, more…” You whined. 

That made him wild. And he ate you out relentlessly, taking his time and learning what worked for you and what didn’t, until your legs were shaking and your moans were louder. 

He slid his fingers, just a knuckle deep inside you and watched how much you loved that. “That feels good, doesn’t it, baby?” 

You only whimpered in response. 

When he was certain you were right on the edge, hips moving in a frantic way which made you grind against his fingers and tongue, only then did he pull away and let go of your dress before standing back up to face you with a condescending smirk. 

“You think it’s that easy?” He spoke, but you focused more on the wetness coating his lips rather than his words. 

You blinked a couple of times to break out of whatever spell he’d just put you under using that damned mouth and fingers of his. He’d… he’d dared bring you right to the edge. But hadn’t let you come. 

You were breathing heavily, feeling hot and tingly all over. 

He chuckled, enjoying the speechlessness which was rare when it came to you. “If you want more, then behave tonight. Be good and tell everyone how in love we are and all the nice things, and I promise I’ll take care of you later tonight. Okay?“

You knew what he was doing. He wanted you to tell as many people as possible because the more people knew, the harder it would be for you to sneak out of this place again. 

He didn’t even wait for a response. He just licked his lips clean, shamelessly holding your stare while he did. Then turned to the mirror and fixed his suit before bending down to pick up your discarded underwear. You looked away, embarrassed but waiting for him to hand it to you. 

Except he didn’t. He pocketed it like it was nothing and said, “Come on, our guests are waiting.” Then he walked out of the room like nothing happened. Like he hadn’t made you almost lose your mind just minutes ago. Like he didn’t have his tongue and fingers inside you. Like he hadn’t gotten so close to making you come. 

Like your heart wasn’t still racing even after he’d left the room. 

Eventually, you calmed down. Fixed your makeup, hair and dress again before heading towards the temporary, clear outdoor party tent Sam had people install in Bucky’s huge backyard. The closer you got, the more it looked straight out of a fairytale. Given the clear walls, you could see the golden lights and decor inside. 

The chandeliers, the floral arrangements, the tables and the dance floor where people danced with their partners. 

Speaking of partners, there by the entrance stood a tall, dark figure. Your husband. 

“Took you a while.” He muttered once you got close enough to him. 

You stopped by his side and sighed. Then answered in a monotone voice, trying to hide how bothered you were. “Well, some conceited asshole left me to deal with a mess he made so there’s that.” 

Bucky snickered. “Don’t act so indifferent. You were dripping all over my tongue and hand just minutes ago.” 

“Keep your voice down.” You hissed. 

“Nothing to be ashamed of. It’s not taboo for a husband to take care of his wife, you know?” He sounded just as annoying as you expected he would. 

You looked down and noticed he had his elbow extended out for you to take. You took it and spoke once you two began walking into the venue. “If you think you are getting anywhere near me to take care of me again, husband, you are dead fucking wrong.” You put a fake smile on as people began noticing your arrival and flocked to you. 

Bucky whispered one last thing into your ear before he left you in the care of the excited, curious, and loud group of ladies coming your way, “Oh you’ll beg me to touch you soon enough, wife.” 

Then he was gone again. Leaving you right on that edge again. 

Damn him! 

—

You had to give it to Sam, he knew how to organise a party. The decor, the food, the music, the performances, all of it was perfect. 

He even re-introduced to all the people you might have forgotten while you were gone. And naturally everyone had questions. You repeated the same answers to them all. The same lies. 

Where were you this whole time? You wanted to do your own thing, and make your own name so you decided to get away from home. 

Why did you leave right after it was announced that you were to marry Bucky Barnes? Oh your father never said when you were to marry him. He just said you would. Besides, both you and Bucky were too young to marry back then. 

Did Bucky know you were going to be gone? Of course he did! You two were childhood sweethearts after all. Yes, you did keep in touch this whole time and only fell more and more in love. Yes, distance does make the heart grow fonder and all. 

Why did the wedding happen so suddenly and in secret? After almost a decade of being far apart from each other, you two could no longer wait anymore. So you eloped the day you came back. 

There are rumours that your father and Bucky have some kind of tension going on between them, is any of it true? That was the one question you didn’t feel too confident about. Because your father never ended up telling you why that was. How did the rivalry start? You lied and said, it’s just because you eloped. Your father wanted to be involved but you were too in love to think straight. So now your father was giving your poor husband a hard time for stealing his little girl. 

As you paraded around and met everyone, you could feel Bucky’s eyes on you at all times. You didn’t have to look to know. You could feel the burning sensation along your back and you just knew he was watching you. 

And he watched all night. Up until the moment people began leaving and you had no choice but to find him again, not knowing what else to do. 

“You lie very well.” He commented, holding his elbow out for you to take again. 

You did. And also leaned into him a little because you had been standing for too many hours. You decided to ignore the hostility for just a minute. “Yes, I’m a natural.” 

“Everyone bought your bullshit about how we are childhood sweethearts turned lovers.” He whispered, turning his head to face you. 

“Well, you did say to make it believable.” 

“Oh it is.” He boasted, “Especially since you’ve been looking at me like that the whole night.” 

You rolled your eyes, “How?” 

“With longing, and desire. You’re all hot and bothered. You crave my tongue back on that throbbing little clit, don’t you?” 

“You’re delusional, Barnes.” 

“And you’re dripping wet for me, Mrs. Barnes.” 

— 

The party ended, and after Sam left you and Bucky made your way back inside the house. Sam, being the angel that he was, had made sure a clean up crew would be here early the next morning so you had nothing to worry about. 

Not that it should bother you whether or not Bucky’s house is tidy. 

You had a faint smile on your face as you went about your nighttime routine. Shower, skin care, a quick snack in the kitchen. And while you were downstairs, searching the pantry for something sweet, you saw Bucky near the thermostat. 

The pantry hid you well, so Bucky didn’t see you. But you watched him mess with the temperature. You squinted and realised he was lowering it. The damned bastard was making it colder! No wonder you were freezing each night and woke up each morning snuggled up to him, basking in his warmth. 

This asshole. 

You remained in hiding until Bucky left, and this time as you made your way upstairs you vowed you wouldn’t reach for his warmth. No matter how cold it got. And he wouldn’t get to use you as a personal heated blanket either. Let him freeze. 

You barely lasted thirty minutes under the covers. 

And he was quiet and didn’t move so you thought he was asleep already as you carefully scooted a little bit closer, trying to feel where he was in the dark. If only this bed wasn’t so damn big. You patted around, trying not to move to much as you– 

“I can hear you, you know? If you want to cuddle, just say it.” 

You stopped moving immediately. “Shut up.” You muttered, frowning at him even though he couldn’t see it. You could see his faint silhouette in the dark, so you knew when he turned on his side to face you. 

“What is it, wife? You need some warmth on this cold, cold night?” He asked in that mocking tone of his. 

“No.” You answered, lying. Because yes you did. 

He muttered ‘stubborn brat’ under his breath and then grabbed you and pulled you close until your back was completely pressed against his chest. His warm, comfy chest. You bit back a sigh of relief once you felt his body heating wrapping you in a cocoon. 

“I saw you messing with the thermostat.” You admitted. 

“Oh?”

“Yes. You make it cold on purpose.” 

“Oh no.” He mocked. “ Why didn’t you fix it then?” He asked, and it hit you how childish this was. He leaned in just enough so that his lips brushed against your cheek when he spoke. “Could it be that you like cuddling with me?” 

“Shut up.” 

He scoffed, finally wrapping his arms around you, but you hissed upon feeling his metal arm on your body.  

“It’s cold.” 

“Warm it up for me then.” 

“What–” 

You stopped talking the moment Bucky grabbed one of your legs and hooked it on top of his, spreading your legs to make room for his hand as you both remained on your sides, with him spooning you from behind. 

His metal hand found itself sliding into your shorts, past your underwear and he cupped you with such confidence and authority that you couldn’t help leaning into and grinding into his touch. His other hand slid under your pillow and down so he could grab and give your breast a firm squeeze. 

Fuck. His hands felt like they were touching you everywhere. 

“I told you I’d take care of you if you behaved.” He whispered into your ear. “Time for a little reward, wife.” 

He slid two fingers inside you, you gasped at the feeling of him being knuckles deep inside you. You whined as he stretched you a little, moving his fingers around until your hips were moving on their own, trying to get him to move some more. 

He chuckled. “That feels good?” He murmured into your ear. 

His voice, his warmth, the softness of his embrace, the unhurried way his fingers were moving in and out of you, sliding over your clit and stroking your walls like he had all the time in the world. 

Your hands wrapped around his metal wrist, keeping his hand in place as you rode his fingers the way you wanted. Hips moving forward and causing his fingers to slide in and out, while you moaned and whimpered. 

His lips brushed against your cheek over and over again as he whispered against your skin, “See how nice it is when you behave? Hmm? You can have me whenever you want, baby. Just be good for me, and I’ll do anything for you.” 

The animosity between you was forgotten at this moment. Here, in this dark room the past didn’t matter for a few minutes. Nothing mattered, just that you wanted something and he was giving it to you. 

His thumb caressed your clit, teasing it a little more until you cried out, “Bucky, please…” 

He froze. You did too. Then he chuckled and said, “So all is takes is a little finger fucking and now you have manners and you call me by my name?” He sounded just as annoyingly playful as you knew he would. 

“Oh fuck you!” You spat, then immediately let out a loud moan as he sped up and really fucked you with his fingers until you were a whimpering mess. “Please, please, please…” 

“What did I say, huh?” He hissed. “Keep acting like a fucking brat and you’ll be treated like one.” He kept his fingers moving in and out of you. “I planned on really taking care of you tonight, but you know what? This is all you’re gonna get.” 

Your moans and whimpers got louder and louder until you began clenching around his fingers, coming undone with a loud cry of his name. Body shaking and your hips grinding down on his hand as you savoured the last moments of your orgasm before he pulled out and pulled away from you. 

You thought he’d go right back to sleep but then you felt him get out of bed. “Where are you–,” 

“I’ll fix the temperature.” He mumbled, sounding annoyed. Rightfully so. “Go to sleep.” 

And that was the last you heard or saw of him until the morning because you passed out right after. You didn’t even know if he returned to bed or not. Not that you cared much. 

Right? 

— 

Things changed after that night. 

A lot changed actually. Bucky had, miraculously, managed to uproot ten years of your life from elsewhere and planted it right here in the city. He took you to the building he’d been getting ready for you and it sure was something. You didn’t know what you expected but a brand new skyscraper was not what you had in mind. 

The day he handed over papers and keys and gave you a tour of the huge building was the first time you felt a shift in this… bond you shared with him. 

“Thank you.” You simply said as you both stepped into the shiny elevator so he could take you all the up to the top floor, to show you to your new office. 

Bucky slid his hands in his pockets and turned to face you. “You think being nice equals sexual favours from me, wife?” 

You could’ve told him to shut it. Or told him to go get fucked. But he was trying to be good to you, wasn’t he? Even after all he did, he wanted you next to him for some unknown reason and frankly you were tired of resisting. Your entire life was here now anyway. It wouldn’t hurt to… try. Would it? 

So instead you answered with, “Doesn’t it?” 

Bucky narrowed his eyes at you, searching for the catch. He didn’t find any so he said, “We’ll see about that.” 

And that night he followed you into the shower and kissed you hard under the falling water. “I see you behaved yourself today.” He whispered against your mouth. 

You pulled him closer by grabbing his neck and said, “Do I get a reward then?” 

He didn’t say anything, just kissed you hard again and walked the two of you backwards until your back collided with the cold clear glass of the shower cubicle. Then he pulled away, looked down into your eyes. His own filled with lust and hunger as he asked, “You’re gonna let me fuck you?” 

You nodded quickly before saying, “Yes. Please.” 

He didn’t waste a single moment. He grabbed one of your legs and hooked it to his hip, spreading you open. He kissed you senseless again while he pushed inside of you. You moaned into the kiss as he filled you up, his cock stretching you out, making you whine and whimper as he slow fucked you. 

“Fuck…” He breathily moaned against your open mouth while he moved against you. Pushing deeper, in and out of you until your moans and whimpers got louder and louder. The sound of the water falling from the shower drowned out most of it, so he fucked you until you moaned loud enough that he could hear you over the falling water. 

“Please,” You cried out. Weeks of frustration wanting to be let out. “Please, Buck…” Your hands wrapped around his shoulders, and you held on while he fucked you. 

Bucky almost froze again at the sound of his nickname falling from your lips. But he maintained his composure and sped up into you, feeling your walls clenching around him, gripping his cock. 

“You’ve been good today,” He said, noticing the way you clenched around him hard at the sound of praise. “You didn’t talk back, not once. Is it because you wanted this cock, baby?” 

You whined in response. Feeling his damp skin rubbing against yours, and for a brief moment you wanted to live in this moment forever. 

“Oh, poor baby.” He gave you a messy, heated kiss then said, “It’s all yours, you know? You just have to ask nicely. And you can have it whenever you want.” 

“Please…” You begged again, your pride nowhere in sight. “Please, Bucky.” 

“Come for me, baby…” He breathed against your skin. His hands held you in place as he pounded into you. “Come for me.” 

You did, moaning so loud it was all he heard as he came right after you. 

— 

It became a daily thing over the next few weeks. You’d seek Bucky out at random times during the day or more often right when he’d get into bed at night. 

“Were you good today, wife?” He asked, his hands already moving all over you trying to undress you as fast as he could. 

“Yes,” You breathed into his ear, your hands touching him all over his tattooed chest. “I even made you breakfast, remember?” 

“Those burnt pancakes count?” 

You shut him up by kissing him, pulling him down onto the bed and straddling him, then proceeded to ride him until you were both moaning and spent, too tired to move. 

—

Things got… playful. 

Oftentimes you’d catch yourself wondering why you weren’t actively working to get out of here. But your whole life was here now. Work, your family, and your husband. You didn’t hate Bucky as much as you thought you would. Just a few months ago you wanted to kill him on sight but now… 

“I saw the new building you work at. He bought you that?” Your father asked one morning when you went over to join him for breakfast. 

You cleared your throat and answered, “He did. He moved everything here. My businesses, my staff, all of it.” 

“And the girls?” He asked, referring to the infamous, feared, and fierce army you had raised and trained over the last ten years. 

“My girls are free to go wherever they want to.” You let pride fill you as you thought of them. “Besides, they don’t have to be here for me to know I can always count on them. They’re just a phone call away.” You explained. “Plus they have work to do. People to save, women to recruit. You know, the usual.” 

“I’m proud of you, you know?” 

You smiled at your father. Then a few moments passed and you couldn’t help but ask, “What happened after I left? Where is the rest of Bucky’s family?” 

Your father looked surprised. “He didn’t tell you?” 

“Tell me what?” 

Your father shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now. They’re all gone anyway. Plus the boy, he… he treats you right, doesn’t he?” 

You nodded. Then left it at that. You wanted a peaceful morning with your father, you didn’t want to ruin it by insisting he tell you about whatever it was that he wanted to keep in the past. 

—

But it bothered you, knowing that something happened while you were gone that you knew nothing about and everyone refused to tell you about it. 

All except one man. Your beloved friend, Sam. 

He showed up one morning, demanding to see Bucky. 

“He said he has an important phone call to attend to. With someone named Steve. He’s been outside for over an hour now,” You explained to Sam, who stood at the foyer looking disappointed, “It looks like he’ll be out for quite some time.” 

Sam frowned, and sighed. “He said to come over for a round of golf.” He sounded like he’d been betrayed. “Ever since he started doing business and being friendly with that Steve guy,” Sam complained, “That bitch has been trying to steal my best friend.” 

You chuckled and grabbed his hand to lead him further into the house. “I’m sorry my husband ruined your playdate, Sammy. But you can hang out with me.” 

Sam reluctantly agreed only after you promised to make him blueberry muffins. He liked those ever since you were kids. 

He agreed to help, and you both had a nice, comfortable conversation going while you worked. You caught yourself shaking your head a few times thinking about how just a few months ago if someone had told you you’d be in Bucky’s kitchen making muffins you wouldn’t believe it. 

But here you were now. 

Then Sam casually said, “I’m glad you two worked it out, you know? You’re so perfect for each other. Even back when we were kids, remember how everyone used to tease you two and say you would surely marry one another?” He laughed. “I mean after he told me all about how you heard him on the phone with me by the pool, I was worried you might never clear up the misunderstanding.” He chuckled, keeping his eyes down as he lined the muffin tin so didn’t see the way you froze. Sam continued, “I thought that’s why you left when I heard about your sudden disappearance. But–”

You cut him off, heart racing as memories of that night came flooding back in. “Sam… what do you mean on the phone with you?” 

Sam looked up, frowning. “That night of your twentieth birthday. Remember how you found Bucky by the pool? He was on the phone with me that night. He was so angry when he told me what his family was planning to do to yours, how they were going to–,” Sam cut himself off as the realisation set in. “Did he not tell you the truth?” 

Your heart pounded. Something was wrong. 

“Tell me what truth?” 

Sam’s eyes softened. “Oh, I shouldn’t be the one to–,”

“Sammy, please.” You begged in a whisper. “Even my father refuses to tell me anything. I have the right to know. What happened?” 

Sam tried his hardest to make sense as he told you everything in a rush. “Look, something went wrong back then. Bucky’s family began siding with the rivals and they were trying to take your father down. They tricked your dad into thinking that getting you and Bucky married would be a good idea and well, your father chose to believe his friends so he made that announcement at the party.” Sam sighed, “But Bucky’s family were planning something really bad. They were going to use the wedding as an excuse to gather all your family in one place and… end all of you. Just so they’d be able to expand their territory. Bucky found out about this plan and he was pissed. So that night, he called me. To vent.” 

You felt your eyes begin to water. 

Sam continued. “But then you found him. I remember him whispering to me that you were doing a terrible job at hiding behind a plant or some shit. Then your huge gown gave away your hiding spot. But given you were listening, Bucky decided he’d get you annoyed enough to have you at least try to call off the wedding which would buy us some time to figure out what to do. That’s when he began saying those things about you. Trying his hardest to sound like he truly did not want to marry you.” Sam sighed, “I mean there might have been a better way of doing it rather than fake dialogues on a phone call, but we were twenty year old boys. We didn’t know better. We didn’t know you’d write that note and just disappear.” 

What the actual fuck. 

“Sam…” You whispered in disbelief. 

He shook his head. “Please tell me you didn’t truly believe all that. He lied when he said those things that night, you know? Bucky liked you ever since we were kids. You don't remember how he used to get mad at me whenever I was around you for too long? How he always ignored your hiding spots when we played just so you’d win at hide-and-seek? You don’t remember how he used to bully your stupid boyfriends as we got a older?” 

You couldn’t believe any of this. But Sam would never lie to you. 

“Wait,” Sam put the pieces together. “So you didn’t know about any of this?” 

You closed your eyes and sighed, “I didn’t. I heard all the things he said that night and… I had spent my entire life loving him and I thought…” You sighed. “I was young and stupid and heartbroken so I just left.” Then you explained. “I got back recently, Bucky made this whole show of raining down bullets at my father’s house and, well, we kinda got married that same day, in my father’s destroyed foyer.” 

“You didn’t talk to each other this whole time?” Sam was in disbelief. “Oh for fuck’s sake. And I thought Bucky just never mentioned you while you’ve been gone because… well, he’s not exactly good at the whole heart to heart thing. He’s Bucky.” 

Your surprise morphed into anger really quickly. “I need to find my husband.” You said, quickly walking out of the kitchen. 

Sam yelled behind you, “I'm gonna take this muffin batter and go before he shoots me after he finds out I told you all this!” 

You just yelled back, “Bye Sammy, I love you”

Sam’s voice sounded distant as he yelled back, “Don’t let him hear you!” 

You ran out to the back, where Bucky said he would be. And you found him by the pool. Again. The sight of him standing there gave you déjà-vu. Except he wasn’t your twenty-year old crush, in a black suit, arguing with who turned out to be Sam, on the night of your birthday anymore. 

He was older now, your husband, wearing dark trousers and a loose white-button up shirt, standing by the pool with the sun setting behind him. You stood on the patio, for a second more, admiring him. The metal hand casually shoved in his pocket and his heavily tattooed arm held a phone to his ear. 

You called out, no longer containing your anger. “You absolute piece of shit!” 

Bucky looked towards you and just frowned, before rolling his eyes. Then said on the phone, “Hang on a minute, Steve. My wife’s angry at me again.” He lowered the phone to his chest and whispered to you, “What is it this time?” 

“How long were you going to keep the truth from me?” You accused him. “Why didn’t you just tell me?” 

He raised the phone to his ear again and said, “I’ll call you later Steve, something came up.” Then he hung up, tossed his phone onto one of the lounge chairs before turning to face you again. “Don’t get mad–”

“Stop telling me what to do!” 

He sighed. “Did Sam tell you anything? I saw his car coming in earlier.” 

You hissed, “Oh leave him alone! He’s a good man who doesn’t lie to me!” 

Bucky shook his head, understanding that you knew all about what he’d been hiding, and too calmly said, “They were gonna kill you. All of you. Not just your family members, but the guards, the family friends, the members of your family who aren’t even in this life – all of you. I had to do something. My folks were wrong, I couldn’t let innocent people die just because my family got too power hungry.” 

You took a step forward, “Why didn’t you tell me before I left? I would’ve talked to someone.” 

“We barely even talked to each other as we got older. I thought you wouldn’t believe me.” 

“But you could’ve at least tried to say something!” 

He was quiet for a moment. Then said, “I came to see you the next day.” He confessed. “The morning after the party. But your father had found your note and you’d already left. You never mentioned exactly why you left in the note, so I let him think it was because of me.” He explained, “Since there would be no wedding I didn’t have to worry anymore. But the threat remained. So I goaded your father into a fight. He took the bait and tried to shoot at me. He missed, of course. But enough people heard about it so he ended up declaring war against my family.” 

He paused. You listened quietly. 

“No one knew it was all because of me. But at least from then on, your father was more cautious. And he began hating my folks. And they couldn’t keep pretending to be his friend for much longer either. All the truth began spilling out. Soon the city was divided and the attacks began. Allies became enemies, just like that.” 

You were quiet. Processing everything. All of that shit happened and you were not aware. 

For some reason, you asked, “During those attacks… Is that when you lost your arm?”

You only realised you’d been stepping closer and closer to him when he raised said metal arm and touched your cheek gently. He smiled and said, “No, baby. That was a different time.” 

You had a tear sliding down your face. He wiped it away. “What happened then?” You asked. 

“My folks didn’t stand a chance. Your father was not only angry and betrayed, but he was also sad that he lost you because of them, or me.” Bucky explained. “It got… really bad. Your father lost a lot of his guys. Then he got angrier. So he stopped responding to the petty attacks and came after my folks directly.” 

“He killed them?” They were his friends once. 

Bucky said, “He still doesn’t know I helped him all the way until the end.” 

“But he spared you.” 

Bucky smirked. “He just could never catch me.” 

“But your family…” Bucky went against his own you realised. 

“They were bad people. Not just because of what they planned to do to you but…” He sighed. “They were doing bad things in the background. Dealing in substances, and people.” He spared you the gory details. 

But you understood.  

“Why didn’t you tell me all this that day we got married?” 

“You wouldn’t have believed me. You had just spent ten years hating me.” He shrugged. “But hey, it kept you safe.” 

You stepped closer to him, feeling tired with all that you felt inside you. “So you never meant the things you said that night?” 

Bucky pulled you close, cupping your face in his hands. “I have loved you my entire life. I never stopped.” 

You sniffled, looking up into his pretty eyes. “We lost so much time. I spent years hating you for nothing.” It hurt thinking about it. 

He smiled at you, “I should’ve thought it through better. But I was young and rash, and my family threatened to kill the girl I loved. I thought I was doing the right thing by pushing you away.” He sighed. “I just didn’t think I was going to lose you for almost a decade. I was always aware of where you were and what you did in life in those years. I was so proud of everything you did, the name you made for yourself. But I couldn’t reach you. You were angry and you hated me. So I waited. And then you came back and… I needed you with me. I’m sorry, I couldn’t wait any longer.” 

You wrapped your arms around him, shoving your face into the crook of his neck as you let the tears fall quietly. 

“Shh,” He whispered, running a comforting hand down your back. “It’s okay now, I’m here. We’re okay.” 

“I’ve been mean to you.” You whispered. “I’m sorry.” 

He chuckled quietly, “And I shot at your father’s house. We’re equal.” 

“I… I love you too, you know?” You sniffled. 

Bucky pulled away so he could look down at your teary face. “Sorry to say this, wife, but this isn’t half as romantic as the first time you told me you loved me.” 

You frowned. “What?” Did you talk in your sleep? Oh no. Did you? “When did I say it?” 

“We were seven, playing in the hedge maze in your father’s backyard.” He smiled, thinking about that day. “He had just had a new water fountain placed in there, and you wanted to show it to me. You must have thought it was pretty and that I needed to see it too. Then you dragged me all the way there and told me you loved me.” He smirked, “Seven-year old you would be disappointed in you right now.” 

A chuckle escaped your lips at the faded memory. “I wish we could go back in time.” 

“Well, we can’t. But we can have the rest of our lives together.” 

You sniffled again, wiped your tears. Then nodded, and leaned in for a kiss. Deepening it the moment he kissed you back. Your fingers found their way into his longish hair and you gently tugged at his roots. 

He smiled into the kiss when you whispered against his lips, “I like you with long hair.” 

“I see you’re being nice again,” He murmured in between kisses, “Does my wife need something?” 

You giggled this time. “I want you, Buck. Just you.” 

“You have me.” He said. “Always.”

[syoddeye]

down the hatch

141 x reader, featuring a smidgen of soapgaz in this bit. ~1.5k words.

part one | two | three

tags: poly141, soapgaz depicted. reader is a little cuckoo for coco puffs after being alone for three months. voyeurism. half-assed masturbation. a gun. kind of crackfic, kind of not.

banner from @/cafekitsune

“we’re not gonna hurt you,” ballcap insists, crouching to open the cupboard under the sink.

“just a little,” dry bones adds, not bothering to lower his voice.

“he’s lying, kitty, swear we won’t hurt you.”

holed up in the surveillance room, you listen over the crackling feed through the attached headset, absolutely fuming. panicking, too, but the door is shut and locked. the seal blends with the maintenance room’s panels, and the button to open it is hidden in the electric panel. the bunker’s build, many cameras, and folding bunks in the second bedroom suggest the austrian had long-term plans to repopulate earth or intended to abduct others but ran out of time.

either option would’ve blown, but now, his paranoia and apparent voyeurism came in handy. the stupid, unwashed idiots look dumb as hell crawling around looking for you.

after a while, they assemble in the kitchen and spend the next hour taking inventory. they are not impressed by the yanni collection, but they are intrigued by the bed you stopped making and the half-completed puzzle of the eiffel tower. you snarl as ballcap completes one of the corners. fucking uncivilized freaks, trampling all over puzzle etiquette. if you didn’t have the external feed and a pile of hardened ooze for proof, you’d know the world had gone to hell in a handbasket. depraved.

eventually, scragglebeard rustles up dinner. it’s obscene, the amount of food he uses. the men lounge and luxuriate in your kitchen and your living room. it doesn’t look like they’ve struggled for much. they eat like a pack of feral dogs when presented with a stew and mash. mohawk produces a half-full bottle of liquor, and the four nitwits have the nerve to toast the discovery of their new home.

a growl from your stomach tempers your outrage. you didn’t consider supplies when you hid. just survival.

the men laze after their meal.

“gonna go have a shower.” mohawk announces, slapping his thighs as he stands.

“thank christ.” dry bones jeers.

“join me?”

you straighten in the swivel chair. that's unexpected.

“nah, i’ll go later.”

“is it an open invite?” ballcap asks.

“always.”

“warm it up for us, then.” 

you won’t use the cameras that the austrian installed in the bathrooms—that’s crossing a line. then, a minute later, ballcap follows mohawk, and walks right past the three-quarter-finished eiffel tower. you think, vive la france, joie de vivre, or whatever.

a pity the cameras in the bathrooms don’t have speakers. the lens is a bit foggy, but the view is decent. the men waste no time stripping.

the camera sits in a vent, points through the grate, and into the showers. they’re in the stall closest to the door, convenient. mohawk pins ballcap to the slick tile, his hands gripping the other man’s hips so tight you see his knuckles whitening. desperate thing.

it’s kind of boring after a few minutes. mostly mohawk sloppily kissing and nipping at ballcap’s mouth and lips, occasionally detouring down his neck. their junk is mostly hidden at this angle, presumably slippery from the shower and all the dry-humping. wet-humping? ballcap kneads the fat of mohawk’s ass, his eyes fluttering when a particular patch of his throat gets attention. 

fuck, okay, maybe this is more titillating than you originally thought. you adjust in the chair, finding the seam of your jorts (craftily fashioned from men’s jeans you found in a closet), and slowly grind along it. it’s lazy, but you’re not gonna stick your hand down your pants if this is all you’re getting.

and as if reading your mind, mohawk breaks from ballcap’s grip and sinks to his knees. his juvenile haircut flops flat under the water, but ballcap’s dick sure doesn’t. even through the sub-optimal camera feed, you know it’s pretty. the way mohawk immediately hones in confirms, licking up the underside and palming his sack. when he finally gets his mouth to the good part, you unbutton your fly, shove two fingers in your mouth, and lean back. 

near-constant masturbation lost its novelty around week three, but it's like riding a bike. you manage a few good, firm circles, beckoning heat out of hibernation when sudden movement on the camera startles you right out of a lovely, burgeoning haze.

fuck bucket. ballcap has mohawk hoisted by the armpit, their abandoned cocks practically wagging. he’s rapidly speaking and pointing right at the fucking vent. how the hell he spotted the tiny red light, you don’t know, but dry bones and scragglebeard stumble into the bathrooms moments later. 

dry bones disappears beneath the frame, and the camera shakes slightly as the vent cover comes off. he steps back, mouth moving beneath his mask, and the four men exchange looks.

scragglebeard speaks as the naked men hastily dress, then start a second sweep of the bunker. this time, armed with the knowledge that somebody’s watching, they don’t split up. they move as a unit.

you watch in horror as they upend the bunker. they move furniture, poke outlets, and empty all the shelves to feel for switches and levers. distantly, you think you would’ve made for a decent escape room operator in the before times. you stifle a mad laugh at the idea, nearly choking when they finally enter the maintenance room.

hand pressed to your mouth, you breathe shallowly as they search. they’re more careful, skipping the electric and valves altogether, probably afraid if they fuck with anything too much, the power or water will go out. they check the ridges between the panels, and you hold your breath as dry bones runs his fingers along the hidden seal.

he stops and peels off a glove. pressing his palm to the secret door’s front, he hums. he glances over his shoulder, directly into the camera, then at scragglebeard. 

“the wall’s warmer here.”

“think there’s something behind it, lt?” mohawk asks. 

lt. initials?

mohawk shoulders dry bones out of the way, pressing his full cheek to the panel and paws at the metal. you freeze, unsure if you’re breathing at this point.

“think it’s residual heat from wiring.'' mohawk finally concludes, pulling away with a shrug. ‘lt’ looks unconvinced, and scragglebeard itches at his namesake.

“it’s gettin’ late. let’s bed down, look again in the morning.”

“you’re not worried someone’s watching us, sir?”

sir? ooh, is it like that? kinky.

“no. if they are, they know we’re armed and in good health. ‘sides. we’re going to cover them.”

your mouth dries. no. no. no. no. fuck, your one advantage. 

the men file out, and lt leaves last. he fishes a strip of cloth from a pocket and stuffs it around the camera’s base, obscuring its view.

“gonna find ya.” he mutters.

one by one, they cover the cameras they’ve found, leaving you with only three. thank you, austrian freakshow, for not skimping on surveillance. you still see the living room, a sliver of the kitchen, and the maintenance hall. it’s not much, but it’s enough to inspire a plan.

you watch the men turn in for the night. you’re not stupid, though. you wait an hour and a half until there’s no further movement, and the bunker’s dark. it’s now or never.

sneak out. grab food, water, and a kitchen knife. flee the bunker. easy.

if it’s still standing, your old one-bedroom rental is a short distance away. you’ll fortify it, then work on luring the rats out of your nest.

tiptoeing past the bedrooms, at least two of the men saw logs. ugh. didn’t miss that in the apocalypse. 

in the kitchen, you gather supplies. tins of tuna, soup, and vienna sausages. the last potatoes. some protein bars. a reusable water bottle. salt and pepper. (spices and seasonings are on the top of your scavenging list.)

satisfied, you tie the corners of your makeshift bindle together and turn to head to the entrance point when your eyes drift over a small shape in the dark. there, atop a side table in the adjoining living room, is a handgun.

in theory, you know how to use it. you logged a good thousand hours on goldeneye 007 as a kid. loads more effective than the paring knife in your hand.

you creep toward it, eyes widening and heart racing. could use on the interlopers while they sleep. but how would you get their bodies out of the bunker? you don’t want to training montage until your muscles swell, not with their corpses doing the same thing in the spare bedroom.

no. much more useful out there. you reach for it.

and somebody reaches for you.

a hand closes around your forearm, squeezing hard to force you to drop the knife, and another wraps around your head, hand clamping over your mouth before you can cry mon dieu. 

the wrapped cans clatter and smash to the ground in the struggle. a deep voice, harsh in your ear and tinged with insufferable smugness, whispers. 

“told ya i was gonna find ya.”

[honeytonedhottie]

starting and managing ur blog⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🍰

so you wanna start a blog? in this post i’ll break down effective ways to start, manage and maintain a blog (from my own experience of course) i hope u find this helpful ✨

TOPIC AND IDEA ; 

to have a blog you need an idea or concept about what your blog will be about. make your blog about either something that you know a lot about/are proficient in.

or blog about something that u are learning about as a way to track ur progress and learn new information. you could blog about something that you love a lot etc etc. 

AESTHETIC ; 

what is your aesthetic? for me it’s hyper feminine and pink and just DIVINE. when u choose and stick to an aesthetic it’ll give ur blog kind of a signature which is important for the rest of this post. 

when u have an aesthetic in mind for ur blog make sure that you have plenty of pins on pinterest that mesh nicely with ur aesthetic so u can find things like headers, dividers, photos and emojis that suit the aesthetic of ur blog. 

RESOURCES ; 

pinterest is my holy grail for resources. there u can find headers and photos to use in ur posts to give ur audience something visually pleasing to look at while they read ur post. 

what ur gonna want to start off ur blog aesthetic and theme is ; 

a header 

a color scheme (for coloring/bolding words. and the colors for ur blog page in general)

an informative bio 

a pfp 

dividers 

START OFF POST IDEAS ; 

if u want to run a well organized blog there are a couple posts that i think are beneficial for u to make. in fact the most important post that i think any blog should have is a MASTERLIST.

master lists are great for a multitude of things. they help ur audience to navigate ur blog easier and see all that you have to offer in one convenient tap of their finger. plus when u make navigating ur blog easy, more people will experience ur content which will mean more interactions with ur post.

not only does it help the audience but it also helps u to know what u did and didn’t post, so that u can plan effectively for the future. it’s also a fun way to see how much u posted. i recommend making a new masterlist every year or when you can’t put any more links onto it 💀. if u want a reference for a good masterlist you can check out mine right here.

CONSISTENCY ; 

consistency is key in anything and everything and blogging is no exception. i recommend not blogging in a competitive nature, rather i think in order to be consistent with something like a blog you should genuinely just do it for funsies/passion and as a way to have ur own authentic creative outlet.

i don’t have a set posting schedule bcuz i don’t want blogging to feel like a chore when in reality it’s just a hobby that happened to gain an audience because people enjoyed it. and because people enjoy what i write, it in return makes me happy and wanna write more.

SIGNATURE ; 

i cannot stress this enough but when u have a platform whether it’s small or big individuality sets you apart! have something that sets u apart like personalized hash-tags, a way that u talk, etc etc. 

personalize hash-tags with things like emojis. also, USE UR HASHTAGS because when someone looks up something like “self improvement” your post will be what they see if u add those hashtags.

furthermore if u personalize those hashtags it sets u apart and gives ur blog a kind of brand and individuality in a way. like a signature at the end of a post.

THINGS TO KEEP TRACK OF ;

what posts you’ve done/want to do

upcoming projects or ideas that u have

how your following/interactions are growing or shrinking

how much $ u get from tips

inbox questions or dms to answer

your plans and goals

your personalized hashtags

i hope this post was helpful to anyone who has been thinking about or wants to create their own blog, i encourage you to do so ✨

[cosmicladyy]

"OW, that’s too rough!"

"I wouldn't have to be if you'd just stay still!"

"You're gonna rip my finger off," your husband yowled and snatched his claws away from your grasp, giving you a nasty look as if you were intentionally trying to cause him pain.

you're aware of bowser's objections to having his nails trimmed, you could hear his complaining echo throughout the whole castle whenever he was forced into it by kamek; complaints flying out about it being the worst pain he's ever had to endure.

(you asked Junior if it was true, to which he denied and said he never felt anything when he had to get his claws cut. he just told you that his dad was a crybaby when it came to this sort of thing.)

you were happy to let him grow out his claws to his heart's content, if he didn't leave you completely covered in scratches from doing the littlest things. outside of the usual reasons you'd be left that disheveled, he didn't have the best handle on them now that they were so long. he somehow managed to destroy your favorite shirt just from giving you a hug.

he was scheduled for a filing a few days ago. conveniently, he was too busy training some new recruits; then, every day after that, he has somehow been able to evade you. for such a large and easy-to-spot guy, Bowser proved to be hard to pin down.

"sorry honey, it's getting late and i'm ready to hit the sack." it was 7:30 in the evening.

"I- uh- have to run some drills with the kids!" they were out of the castle that day.

"whining isn't going to make me go quicker," so, you took on the burden of filing down his claws.

you managed to catch him off guard when he snuck out of bed for a midnight snack. clad in just your pj's and whatever slippers were available, you cornered him, a metal nail filer gripped tightly in your hand.

the 'fight', if you could even call it that, might've alarmed a few guards with the pots and pans you brought down with you as you pinned down the stubborn turtle. it took some convincing that there was no real threat and that you were doing it for his own good; their king ordering them to help him from the floor didn't help your case.

where you got the nerve to defy him, he'll never know.

It's silent after that. the only sounds filling the room are dramatic hissing and the back-and-forth sawing of the filer.

If he wasn't mourning the loss of his long minion shredders, Bowser would've been over the moon at the domestic gesture. you, tending to his nails to ensure they were in perfect shape, and him getting to soak in your warmth as you make yourself comfortable in his lap.

why did he even have to cut his nails down anyway? it's not like he has to. they're perfectly fine and just add to his cool, jagged persona. So unfa-

"I'd really appreciate it if you didn't breath on my neck so much."

your only answer is an even heavier puff of warm air that's closer and had more power behind it, "it's not like they were buggin' anybody."

"i have a giant scratch on my back that says otherwise." his arm that you weren't holding wraps around your middle almost apologetically.

he grumbles behind you as you softly blow at the newly shortened, still sharp claw, "see, doesn't that look better?"

briefly examining the hand you raised up to his face, he chuffs and looks off to the side stubbornly, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of him admitting that he liked them way better than before.

"if you really loved me, you woulda left them the way they were." he barely argues.

rolling your eyes, you peel yourself out of his hold, "it's not exactly ideal to be a living pincushion, y'know."

he remains silent, refusing to even make eye contact.

"want me to make you a sandwich?" you softly bargained, holding his rough cheeks in your hands and running your thumbs over his scales in a way you know he likes.

there's a pause, then he huffs, "with extra spicy mustard and chili flakes sprinkled on top?"

"anything for you, my king," you land a wet kiss between his bushy brows with an obnoxiously cute 'mwah!' and began moving around the kitchen in search of said ingredients.

with your back turned to him, the flustered koopa takes a peek down at his newly primped claws, flipping his hands over to fully admire your work.

a jagged, lovesick grin bumpily spreads out on his muzzle; he could get used to this.

[shitpostingkats]

Pinning Down Every Shinjuku Reapers Hanafuda Suit

In The World Ends With You, there are a total of twelve (named) reapers, each corresponding to a member of the chinese zodiac. They continue this design philosophy in NEO, with all of the Shinjuku reapers being based off a different suit of Hanafuda.

Let's start with the ones we know.

(post does contain spoilers)

Tsugumi - January, Crane

Conveniently, most of the reaper's birth months point to their suit, as well as their noise forms, for the ones that have them. Tsugumi is a new years baby, and Grus Cantus is from the hikari card. (Each suit is divided into four cards, with higher point cards being marked with an animal or object, and I'm gonna be honest, this is about all I know. This post is not a comprehensive guide for how to play hanafuda.)

Ayano - May, Iris

Skipping forward a few months, we have Ayano, born May 18th, and using the iris. Every suit, along with having a month associated with it, also has a plant, which is used on every card in the suit. Ayano is pretty much the only reaper who uses her suits flower, rather than an image from a hikari or tane card.

Shiba - June, Butterflies

Born June 21, his noise form is butterflies. Not much to say. I guess I could point out how he's the only of three reapers who wears a symbol of his suit inspiration on his non-noise-form person (necklace). The other two are:

Susukichi - October, Deer

The deer skull is on his tshirt, as well as being able to see a little of his tattoos, which we see later is also a stylized skull and antlers. Birthday matches; October 13th.

Hazuki - December, Phoenix

Ah, the mysterious Haz. The first of our reapers to have a birth month that does not match his hanafuda inspiration. (According to the official guidebook, his birthday is May 5th)While the Phoenix Cantus isn't his noise form, it is mentioned in the secret reports that he is the one responsible for shaping the soul pulvis into that form. Also, like our previous two reapers, he wears his motif on his civilian clothes, in the little phoenix symbols on his jacket. Him being a phoenix is also likely to make him a further foil to Joshua, as they both are the only mythological animals in their respective groups.

Now lets get into the less clear cut ones.

Minamimoto - July, Boar

I know what you're thinking! "Minamimoto isn't a Shinjuku reaper! Also, he isn't a boar, he's a catboy." Undoubtedly true. But he is used caught up in their scheme, purposefully absorbing the soul pulvis and afterwards Leo Cantus manifests with tusks and a snout. What even more interesting is it's very likely his original noise form was a boar as well. But a boar from the chinese zodiac. While he is a lion in the original game, a lion kinda clashes with the Shibuya hierarchy. And between Sho being process-of-elimination the pig, as well as setting up during week two in Pork City. Which could imply that Leo Cantus Armo is a regression to a more berserk and less enlightened state, literally sending Minamimoto back to his roots, before he radicalized and broke away from the Shibuya Reapers.

Kubo - August, Geese

Like Haz, Kubo doesn't have a noise form, but he does have strong narrative ties to the Soul Pulvis, which manifest as a flock of aggressive birds that fly in a V formation. Also, his birthday is August 14.

According to Nomura, Kubo was added late in the writing process. Initially, Nomura wanted to add two characters, but the writer gave him a concerned look, so he settled for just Kubo. Not only is this incredibly funny, we'll be looping back to this.

Hishima - September, Sake Cup

His surname, Sakazuki, is actually the name of the specific sake cup pictured in the September suit. It's the one you see in used in cermonial exchanging of sake, like weddings or yazuka deals. Considering his subplot with Shiba, themes like "brotherhood" and "marriage" are pretty fitting. Once again, the birth month matches: September 7th.

Shoka - November, Swallow

Asterisk. Once again, the cat themed characters of Shibuya have it complicated.

Shoka's birthday is March 30, which is the suit of the cherry blossom. This is further supported by her surname being Sakurane, which was originally made for the protagonist of NEO, to go with Neku's surname being Sakuraba. However the name was given to Shoka as they thought it fit her better. Internally, she is sort of a dual protagonist, being labelled in the data as ch002 and getting billing right after Rindo's actor in the credits.

But her online alias of Swallow points pretty directly to the November suit, and its tane card which features a Swallow. As mentioned earlier, Nomura initially wanted one more Shinjuku reaper character than we end up seeing in the game, so its possible Shoka got some design elements merged together from two different suits so as to not waste any creative material. Or she's just meant to be both and I'm overthinking it.

Kaie - Febuary, Plum Blossom, Warbling White-Eye

We've got ten out of twelve suits catagorized! This, unfortunately, means we are gonna have to start making some guesses.

Kaie's birth month is no help, being November, where Shoka is already using the Swallow symbolism. If we're continuing the tradition of using animal cards, Kaie is either the warbler or the cuckoo. I'm gonna be honest folks, I'm partial to the warbler just because of Kaie's eyebags.

Anyone else see it?

Also, "warbling" could be a a reference to Kaie's preference to not speak, because while he communicates mostly through text, he does have a few voicelines near the end of the game, which shows us his voice is quiet and with a little bit of a stutter. Also, it leaves the last suit open for:

Tsugumi's brother - April, Wisteria, Cuckoo

I bet you thought I forgot about him! Yes, our last suit is the April suit, represented by hanging wisteria and the cuckoo.

Cuckoo's are, for better or for worse, famous for their brood parasitism: a cuckoo will lay its eggs in another birds nest, and when it hatches, the young cuckoo chick will attempt to push all the other eggs out, so it can have the parents sole attention. Tsugumi and her brothers' relationship does not seem anything like that, but it is worth noting that they are only reapers who are related. I think the cuckoo's parasitism is more likely a reference to how her brother was a high-ranking Shinjuku reaper who nonetheless "betrayed" the hierarchy and tried to defy Haz's schemes.

Wisteria is a symbol of love, longevity, and endurance. His final act in death was to protect his sister, ensuring she would survive.

[thomthomp]

TADC Jax Cosplay Process and Con Experience !

Hello !! Thought I'd post a little journal/process thing for a Jax cosplay I've done recently! I wouldn't call this a step-by-step tutorial as many of this was trial and error, along with much improvisation (I also didnt plan on doing this so there are few actual process images haha). This was a lot of fun and I hope someone can get something out of this !

MAKING THE OVERALLS

So as this was my first time sewing anything, a couple blunders were made. First I definitely shoulda bought this fabric a metre longer than i did. As a result after cutting it in half to create the two sides, I realised it was gonna be way too short going up the chest. So after sewing the two sides together I ended up with some oversized clown pants, that also happened to be super skinny in the legs as I may have eyballed cutting the inseam lol. Drop crotch realness was in full effect.

I followed this tutorial on how to make the base of my overalls, her very "eh, let's go for it" attitude was massively helpful in making this first sewing attempt less daunting

So...with limited fabric and with no immediate desire to buy another metre from Hobbycraft, I knew there was only one thing to do...

And that was slapping some leftover scrap on top lol. After that all I had to do was sew the straps on both sides and I had some (just about) wearable, non-adjustable overalls ! The colour is different as I had dyed it in Rit Dyemore super pink after sewing.

Now because I was adding this extra scrap on top after sewing the base, I wasnt able to do flat measurements to see if this scrap would actually go all the way around. Rather than taking more time to properly pin the two parts together and getting a proper look. My impatient brain said %$!# no and just pinned parts of it as i sewed, making it less finicky, but not realising that the scrap was too short. Luckily, pulling that empty space together and sewing it resulted in a fit that was almost perfect for my body, as i wanted it to be form fitting anyway. So remember kids, being impatient works out every time :)

The last details I had to do (other than hot glueing some yellow foam buttons to the straps) was add the chest patch and inside leg sleeves at the bottom. Using the original colour fabric was perfect for these two parts (I swear it looks pinker irl). For the chest patch I just folded some scrap together and top stiched around the edges, leaving the top edge open as convenient phone/card storage for Con. I didn't trust myself to not bind the back and front of the overalls together while sewing it on, so I just used hot glue and slapped in on there. The leg sleeves were even easier, sewing some more scrap around then binding the exposed edges with hot glue.

MAKING THE HEAD

So I had no idea how the head was gonna turn out, my only cosplay head experience prior was my first attempt at Jax last October of which I used painted foam card. Minecraft lookin ass

I knew going in that I wanted to do it fursuit head style, starting with a foam bucket helmet and hot glueing extra foam to the sides to create the skeleton of the head. Goated foam head tutorial by Skyehigh Studios was used for this

Attaching some half moon foam cut outs to each side of the head, doubling them up for stronger support, then adding some shorter half moons next to each eye hole, I was able to get the oval shape that jax has going on.

I measured around the head between the two half moon cuts on each side, then hot glued two pieces of fleece fabric on the front and back. For UK peeps I'd reccommend poundfabrics.co.uk, really affordable and arrived super quick, which was good since i left buying the fleece about a week before con (oops)

Now here's where I probably shoulda done more pre-measurements and sewed the top part of the fleece on with the side parts, so I could simply slip the thing on the foam skeleton like a beanie. Well, caveman brain got the better of me and just hot glued the underside of the fleece parts together. It was uneven, several holes remained and I burned my fingers, but gosh darn was that there three fleece patches glued together on them there.

Finally, at 2am the night before con I added the ears. I was initially concerned as I had underestimated how the weight of the foam would react to flopping around on the head, which made for some vry droopy ears. To make em more straight, but still keep the flop, I stuck some large cocktail sticks I had lying around about half way up the ears. This still allowed for flop behaviour, but stayed mostly upright while wearing them. After wrapping the fleece around and hotglueing them down in two gaps I had made, the head was officially done !

MAKING THE TOP

For my first time making a top, I followed this Youtube tutorial that went the most simple route I could find, taking one of my long sleeve tops, leaving about 1 cm seam allowance and cutting out two parts each for the top and sleeves.

So, as I was still getting used to using a sewing machine, I had managed to jam the needle multiple times when sewing together the base of the top, ruining almost all the spare needles I had. Upon viewing a tutorial on how not to jam your machine, I realised I had been doing the first three points she made, consistently lol. In the moment and since it was the last day, I didnt want to take risks and simply hotglued that bad boy down.

CON EXPERIENCE

So embarking to the first day of MCM London I immediately realised how awkward the overalls were gonna be to wear, I had to wear them as high and tight as i could otherwise it was gonna look like I had comically short legs. This meant that the thigh area was gonna be fairly uncomfortable when moving and would have to take the straps off and shift everything down if I wanted to sit. Aaaaaand about an hour into the first day, the enevitable rip occurred

Thankfully the rip was probably in the most inconspictuous place possible so i didn't really care lol. But any other fears of more rips, or the ears giving out in the wind were nonexistent with the great time I had meeting people. A big highlight was the very first person who came up to me who was actively looking for digital circus cosplays and HAD CUSTOM POKEMON CARDS THEY WERE GIVING OUT TO THEM.

So cute, made my day T_T, shoutouts to milskellyfox for the card. So yeah met a ton of cool people and everything held together for the whole 3 days, including the ears which I was most spooked about lol. Can't wait to start work on the next costumes for October's Comic-Con!

[prismaticpichu]

Hi! I hope I'm not disturbing you, I'm sorry if I'm asking too much, so umm can you make Seph Zack, like Seph is trying to craft or build something, Zack is curious, Seph is writing his journal, Seph's memories when he was little, add angst, Zack protective, comfort/hurt, fun, I hope its okay for you. ♥️❤️🤗🫂

Ahhhhh! Not at all, my friendo!! ❤️ I appreciate your asks so much you have no idea lol!! 😂 ✨ Receiving prompts is all a writer can ever ask for!!!

As for this prompt!- wooo boy! That’s a lot of ingredients to add to the pot! Annnnnnnd I think i’ma just gonna be a lazy butt and shamelessly promote some fics that have covered all those points in the past! xD

*ducks chair*

LOOK A PICHU’S DMW CAN ROLL A DUD EVERY NOW AND THEN ehehhehehshshdhdhdhhdhdh

~

“Seph is trying to craft or build something, Zack is curious, fun” ~ I present to you…. my very old fic, On Pins and Needles!!! This little oneshot follows Zack discovering Seph has a little hobby that one may not expect. https://archiveofourown.org/works/39779433

“Seph's memories when he was little, add angst, Zack protective, comfort/hurt” ~ I present to you… my not too old fic, Lightning! This fic here starts with a rather brutal memory of Seph’s childhood, followed by a very loving and tender Zack comforting his friend in the aftermath. https://archiveofourown.org/works/51209863

“Seph is writing in his journal” ~ okie doke, so! I don’t reeallllly have a fic that covers this, but I DO happen to have a random snippet in my WIPs that’s literally called “Sephiroth’s Journal” 🤣🤣 Alright…. CONVENIENT LOL

~

13 September 2023

Frankly, I am not too certain what to write here. And I suppose that already muddies the purpose of why this notebook was given to me. I was instructed to simply journal my "thoughts", whatever they may be, omit everything else in my mind and write my thoughts without thinking at all. He told me I think too much. He also told me I am too stiff when I speak, and I was to try to be as colloquial as possible. "Talk to yourself!" he told me. "Mimic a conversation." I cannot promise that I will be able to adhere to this, but I will try.

I suppose if this was to be a conversation, I would start by introducing myself. My name is Sephiroth. Had I not been my own recipient, I am certain whoever reading this would have heard that name before. It is more... widespread than I would like to admit. But that is my life. "The cards I was dealt" as he would say. Though I do not believe there is any true power dealing these supposed cards, I have long come to accept them. I am not angry. I am not bitter. I am not particularly happy with them; I just play with what I was given. But I digress. I am a SOLDIER First Class, among the highest rank in the military. Please let it be known that I say this without any sense of a arrogance or pretentiousness. I have been fighting all my life, and these are the results of years of ceaseless training. I would rather not talk about that chapter of my life, however. Maybe another day. I think I will choose to focus on the present for the time being.

Such as right now, for instance. Tonight I write from my bedroom desk, a glass of water to my right and a closed computer to my left. I am much accustomed to working on a computer, if I had to be completely truthful . It is where almost all of my work is done. Incidentally, I was planning on resuming my work upon returning to my quarters tonight. But he had gifted me this journal today, and I did not want his kindness to be in vain.

I suppose I should stop referring to the boy as "Him." It is very disrespectful, now that I think about it, how I had not properly included him by now. Him--I said it again, didn't I? My apologies. The him I am referring to, his name is Zack Fair. He is a SOLDIER First Class, just as I. He is also my lieutenant.

Heh. I think I know what to write about. But I will save it for tomorrow; it is getting late. I promised Zack I would be in bed by midnight.

~

Hopefully this is a satisfactory answer lmao!! ❤️ Apologies for my indolence; I think I’ve honestly just been pushing myself a little hard lately, and I can smell the faintest ashes of a burnout spell creeping in.

[siribaes]

crusin’

han lue x (oc) [ black!fem! ]

a late night, open road, passenger side driving around los angeles with her favorite guy.

contents: fluff. some angst. smutty thoughts. brief smoking cigarette mention. brief mention of death. rival gang dynamics. mild peril han drives fast ofc <3. nothing too major.

suggested tunes📻: protect my heart by kelis, it’s whatever by aaliyah, luxurious by gwen stefani, run to the sun by n.e.r.d., boogie 2nite by tweet, try again by aaliyah

author’s note: just a little somethin’ featuring my number one guy han <3. this was heavily inspired by romeo must die, i loved jet and aaliyah’s dynamic & this takes place after better luck tomorrow and before fast and furious/tokyo drift. y’all lmk if i should make this into a fic…🤔 / not edited or proofread

. . . ZOOOOM!

an electric blue, 1995 mazda widebody fd rx7 flys down the street. driving through lights, regardless of the color change. the wind brushes against chickie’s cheeks as the car veered left. she stretches her arm out the window, she hummed. the air is a bit chilly but it feels good against her skin. the mazda slowed down at a red light.

“i thought you said you wanted to cruise. it feels like you’re racin’,” chickie murmurs pulling her arm back inside. she turned toward the driver’s side.

he glances at her, his lips forming into a lopsided grin. “was cooped up, haven’t been behind the wheel all day, let me flex,”

flex he did.

chickie’s heart fluttered watching his skillful hands maneuver the gear shift with ease. his nimble fingers tap on the steering wheel to the rhythm of the music. a part of her mind wonders how his hand would fit into hers or how the rough callous on his palms would feel against her skin.

“can we stop at the store? i want some snacks,” chickie spoke aloud. she focused her eyes on the road and away from from his hands.

“it’s one up ahead,” with one hand, he effortlessly maneuvers the wheel, his palm gently guiding it as the car turns at a right corner.

so smooth.

the madza slowly pulls into a spot across from a brightly, colored convenience store. chickie unbuckles her seat belt.

“you want anything?”

“nah, i’ll just share with you,” chickie playfully rolls her eyes. she steps out of the car and heads straight into the store.

chickie comes out minutes later with a boat load of snacks and drinks. already, half way done with her snickers, she almost chokes, from she sees. her friend, her favorite guy.

han leans against the car, his body, totally relaxed like he doesn’t have a care in the world. a cigarette hangs from his full lips, as han rakes a hand though his inky, black tresses. the street is quiet as the plastic bag swishes back and forth. with every step, chickie feels like her heart is gonna leap out of her throat.

she can’t really pin-point when it happened or how it happened but it just did. it was like chickie went to bed one way and woke up another. every little thing han lue did set her a flame, even simple things like tonight, calling her up at 1:00 AM asking if she wanted to go for a ride. she all but leapt out of her bed room window when heard the engine of the madza coming down the street.

as exhilarating as her crush on han was she knew that it wouldn’t go anywhere. he was her best friend and on top of that the growing rivalry between his crew and her cousins, both vying for control over parts of south-east la, didn’t add much to the equation. in fact it subtracted from it. so chickie just settled for her mushy, unrequited feelings and distracted herself with other things. this time, nitpicking han’s smoking habits.

“i thought you were quitting,” chickie hoists herself on the hood of han’s car. she digs into the bag, pulling out soda and a pack of twinkies.

a week prior, han told chickie that he was going to quit, cold turkey. that and some other ramblings of needing to get out of “this place”. over the course of their friendship, chickie can tell when han is tired or sleep deprived. typically a man of few words, he becomes talkative and super rambly when exhausted. there was a small part of that was happy han was quitting, but she should’ve known better, old habits die hard.

han takes a long pull. he blows the smoke away from chickie’s direction. “i am. haven’t had a cig in three days,”

“but you said you went cold turkey,” chickie takes a bite of her twinkie.

“listen,” han leans towards chickie, “i’ll go cold turkey when you tell y’re pops about your new jewelry,” he reached towards her stomach and lightly flicked her belly button piercing.

chickie squatted his hand away. “boy, please another piercing isn’t gonna hurt anyone. my body, my choice. besides, cigarettes aren’t good for you,”

han chuckles. he takes another pull, blowing the smoke up towards the sky. he shrugged. “does it matter? health isn’t my priority. especially the way i’m livin’,”

chickie frowns. “i don’t like when you talk like that,”

han take another pull, longer than the previous. the cigarette is a nothing but a stubby bud now. he flicks it away. slowly, he turns and faces her.

“you worry about me too much,”

“i feel like i don’t worry enough,” chickie said quietly. she avoids his eyes, keeping them toward the lights of the convenience store.

“you hoggin’ all the snacks,” before chickie could respond, han pulls her hand towards him. a prickly, chill runs down her spine. The roughness of han’s callouses feel good against her skin. frozen in place, chickie watches han lean down and bite the twinkie in her hand.

she feels everything.

the slight, soft-wetness of han’s mouth on her skin. his nimble tongue as it gently slides and swirls around the tips of chickie’s fingers. her works in over time, completely thudding against her chest, as han pulls away from her. for second, chickie sees a certain glint in the deep, brown pools of his eyes.

he chews. han smirks at her.

“there’s a race on saturday. you should come,” han says, leaning back, casually.

chickie took a sip of her soda. hoping for the coolness of the drink to cool her down. she takes another sip and thinks, if he could do that, so could i.

“i dunno,” chickie trails. she innocently, fiddled with her bracelet, playing with the race-car charm, the same one han got her a year ago, in honor of the mutual love for cars. she looks at him, batting her eyelashes, subtly, “i might be, busy,”

han’s eye brow rose. “busy?”

“yeah, i might have plans, or something,”

“what, like a date?” chickie notices a slight change in han’s demeanor. his jaw tightens, emphasizing the angles of his cheekbones.

chickie attempts to channel her best han impression, shrugging her shoulders in the most nonchalant way. han grows quiet, slowly nodding his head. he leans off the car and positions himself in front of her. in quick movements, han pulls chickie close. fingers flutter across her exposed stomach.

han tickles her.

“han! stop, please! o-okay, okay, okay! i’ll come, i can’t breathe,” chickie squeals, attempting to push han away from her.

“say you’ll come,” han somehow managed to snake a hand to the back of chickie’s neck. he gently holds her in place, while he continues to tickle her.

“ooo-okay! i will come, please,” han eases off of her. he watched as chickie caught her breath. she shoves han’s shoulder, “asshole,”

they laugh.

“seriously though,” han rolls his shoulder, keeping his gaze on chickie, “i need you there. i wanna see my favorite girl,”

chickie smiles, gently. the flames of her unrequited crush roaring back inside of her. han loops an arm around chickie’s shoulder, she leans her head against him. savoring this moment, allowing herself a little leeway to dream about what could’ve been.

[ladylooch]

To be honest I have really missed angry sex with Em and Timo "You are mine" is the best!!! Also I love the idea of Em teasing T when she dances but he can't touch her and later she has to pay for it.

sorry for my dark thoughts

Part One!

A/N: Bby! Never, EVER apologize for dark, dirty thoughts about these two. We love it!

Also, I was gonna say, close your eyes while you read this…. Then remembered um that’s not how this works. 🤣 Writing this smut made me that stupid. Enjoy!

Word Count: 1.3k

“You know I hate when you lie to me.” Timo’s breath touches my left ear.

I can’t see him, but I can feel his warmth over my naked body as he ties my hands together above my head. He wanted to tie them to the headboard but I said no, not when I’m blindfolded too. His obsession with ties is coming in handy tonight. 

I snort out a soft breath as I feel his lips feather along my jaw. My teeth almost chatter at the intensity of not being able to touch or see him. My fingers curl together so I am holding my own hand. His fingers stroke softy down from my wrists to the sides of my breasts. Each stroke tightens my nipples into stiff peaks. His breath moves down my throat, hovering over my left nipple. Wetness collects there from a soft brush of his tongue as he pushes my boundaries. I say nothing, quietly consenting. He strokes the texture of the bud once more.

“Mmm.” I moan, then bite my bottom lip. His teeth gently bite down on the peak before he moves to the left, gnawing into my less sensitive flesh. I can feel the bruising forming beneath his mouth. He loves me purple from his mouth in the morning, so he can kiss all along my skin while we make love. It’s our way- rough at night, sweet in the morning.

It took less than twenty minutes for Timo to convince my brother and Lexi to take Lio for the evening. The convenience of them upstairs will be difficult to part with once our house is done in Westfield. The whole car ride back to our apartment was agony. We parted with our son after changing him into pajamas. Then Timo turned to me and told me exactly what he was going to do to me, whispering it in my ear as he reached between my thighs in the elevator.

“Walking? Not a thing for you tomorrow.” 

Timo’s lips on my inner thighs cause me to jolt slightly. He didn’t warn me where he was going to next. He slowly spreads my thighs apart then pauses. I feel the light breeze of him blowing on my folds. I try to close my thighs against the tingling sensation, already feeling overwhelmed. His strength turns me on further and my inner muscles clench.

“Your pussy is begging for me.” Timo whispers. He feels along my slick flesh with two fingers, then gently works them into my entrance. I’ve been wet since we left the party and having him fill me temporarily scratches the yearning itch in my core. He curls his fingers up, touching the velvet spot in my heat that will get me to curl up. It works. I buck up, then collapse back down to the bed.

He smiles against my folds, then moves his mouth into the vacuuming suction he knows I love. I groan, grinding my hips into his face. He lets me for a moment, then pins my hips down. My mouth opens, breathing heavily as he adds his tongue into the equation. 

“Baby.” I whimper.

“Hmm?” He hums against me. I shudder. My hands grip into fists, fighting against the silk of his tie while his mouth works deeper, faster, perfectly. 

“T.” I cry this time, full on sobbing as he suctions harder. His tongue caresses my sensitive bud more, wiggling at a vibrating, fast speed that is somehow better than anything I’ve felt before. I begin to shake. Timo holds me down harder. The pressure of his hands on me, the lack of visual, has an incredible orgasm rocking through me. It’s so intense, I’m worried I may pass out. I gasp in a breath like I’m coming up from drowning. “Oh, oh, oh oh.” I whine as he keeps going. “Ohmygod.” I grit my teeth, then relax when he moves his mouth, letting me come down from my high.

My blood pours through my ears, creating a freight train sound that melts me back into the bed.

But Timo is relentless. 

“Knees.” He demands, throwing my thigh enough so I roll slightly onto my left side. I curl up, shifting my body weight. My sense of space on the bed is limited. “You’re in the middle” Timo says, a slight chuckle as he watches me try to feel for the edge.

“Asshole.” I snip. “I’m blindfolded and you ate me within an inch of my damn life.”

“Aw, you hate that baby?” He asks, brushing his hand over my ass cheek. He gives is a slap, then smooths his hand over the mark. He leans forward, pressing his lips there too. 

“No. But you could be nice to me.”

“I’m about to be really nice to you.” 

His chest connects with my back. I feel his engorged head at my wanting entrance. I hang my head slightly down. His fingers trail over my hip, then coming to my wet slit. They work their way between the layers of flesh, finding my clit. He rubs. I arch. His other hand grabs my throat, keeping me there. His mouth assaults the side of my neck. His thumb and pointer finger hold either side of my jaw. When my mouth opens to moan, he slides his thumb against my bottom lip, then plunges inside. He presses down on my tongue. I hum against the appendage. He drops my face from his hand, letting me fall back and catch myself on the bed. 

The head of his cock strokes against my folds next. I whimper, about to beg until he thrusts into me fast. He bottoms out, causing me to shiver. He lazily fucks me, pressing in and out without guiding himself. If I could see him, his head would be tilted back, praising the ceiling at his filing of my tight, wet core.

“Fucking hell, Em.” He groans. “You like when I tie you up? Hm? That turn you into something else?” He dances around the words, not daring to call me anything further unless I say it first.

“I’m your slut, T.” He bites my shoulder in response. Then works my hair into his fist.

“Yeah, you are, baby. ‘M gonna treat you like one too.”

Those words are the pressure release. Fast and furious fucking bucks our skin together. His deep thrusts have me groaning in front of him. He pulls my hair harder, arching me back so only my finger tips are on the bed. Waves begin to flutter through my pussy with his deep penetration. I mewl, bringing my hands directly below my chest so I can buck back into him. When I do this, Timo slows slightly, letting me help us.

“I love how hard you can fuck me.” I whimper. “So good. Right there.” 

“You feel so good today. All slutty and wet and used.” He releases my hair, instead going to stick his finger back into my mouth. I suck it deep, lapping my tongue over it as he dribbles a bit inside of me. I smile, then shove his finger out of my mouth with my tongue. The control is shifting back to me. He’s close. But he won’t cum until I do again.

“Touch me like you did in the car.” I demand. He groans, loving the feminine grunt of pleasure when he strokes my clit. His thrusts are deep and hard, but his touch on my swollen bud is gentle and explorative. I quiver when he finds the right tempo. I reach for his wrist, gripping it hard.

“Ohhhh. Fuck yeah, T. I love this… ohmygod.” I squeeze him hard as I cum, shouting out my appreciation of him to our upstairs neighbors. His hot ribbons coat my inner walls, drawing him deep with my aftershocks. He rests his head on my shoulder as I do tiny little pulses around him. He puffs out a heavy breath with each one. He’s overstimulated but can’t find the desire to tell me to stop.

“We should move.” I tell him after he unties me. “I don’t think I can look those people in the face after that.” He spent the last fifteen minutes kissing the red marks on my skin, apologizing for the one on my breast that will be at Lio’s eye level when he’s feeding tomorrow. He didn’t think that one completely through.

“Sure how about in three months?”

“Great!” I chuckle. Timo kisses the top of my head, stroking my scalp gently. I have a slight headache from how hard he pulled my hair.

But I love it. And him. Tonight I’ll sleep happy, satisfied my little white lie about Trouba got me exactly what I wanted.

[nasturtiumloom]

Hiiii I was wondering if you can do a Rex splode smut of him getting pegged cuz he was being a prick ٩(＾◡＾)۶

i immediately bit the nearest thing near me when i saw this

mean rex is soo bite-able but anyway i hope you enjoy this (˶ > ₃ < ˶)♡

MDNI

rex splode x fem reader ‧₊˚🍊༉‧₊˚.

this fic contains: pegging, rough sex, hair pulling, mean name calling (yes, reader is fed UP!), reader is like pretty stronger than rex, ass slapping and uhm, kind of toxic relationship, reluctant/non-con and you guys break up in the end !! <\3

The party was in full swing, laughter and music filling the air as people danced and mingled. You stood by the snack table, feeling tired and bored. Rex had dragged you to this party, promising it would be fun, but you weren't enjoying yourself. You watched Rex weave through the crowd. He had promised to grab drinks for the two of you, but it had been a while, and he was nowhere to be seen.

Sighing and growing impatient, you decided to look for him. You pushed through the throngs of people, scanning the room for any sign of your boyfriend. Your heart sank when you spotted him across the room, talking to Dupli-Kate. He was leaning in close, his usual cocky grin plastered on his face.

You moved closer, just in time to hear Kate giggle and ask, "So, are you still with...?" She left the question hanging, clearly hinting at you.

Rex smirked and shrugged. "Me and her? Nah, why? Wanna go do something?" he said with a smile. Just then, he jumped a bit when he heard his name being yelled.

"Rex!"

He turned, his eyes widening in surprise. "Babe! I was just—"

"Save it," you snapped, grabbing his arm and dragging him away from Kate. You didn't stop until you reached the stairs and made your way up to an empty bedroom, locking the door behind you.

"Let me just explain! Come on, you’re overreacting." Rex said, trying to play it off, but you could see the nervousness in his eyes. He had done this more than once, and he knew you weren’t gonna put up with his bullshit anymore.

"You want to act like you're single? Well you’re gonna be after this, fucking asshole." you said, your voice cold. With a smirk, you add, "Should’ve never given you a second chance, Mark was right.”

"You talked to that guy!? what the fuck!" He said before getting cut off by you manhandling him.

pushing him roughly against the bed. Rex quickly mumbled out apologies and struggled against you, but you were stronger than him and held him still. His eyes immediately widened as he heard the sound of your shorts hitting the floor and felt the strap-on press against his ass. “H-hey woah woah, what are you doing? when did you get that!?”

pinning him down with surprising strength. He could feel the heat of your anger, but there was also an undeniable desire mixed in.

You moved quickly, pulling his pants down and exposing his round, plump ass, with his already hard cock rubbing against the bed. Reaching into a nearby drawer, you conveniently found some lube. You lubed your strap-on before rolling your eyes at Rex's squirming and talking.

Rex's eyes widened further as the alcohol faded and he realized what was about to happen. "Wait, babe, please let's talk about this—"

You muffled his protests by pushing his head into the bed while rubbing your strap against him. "Shut up, you fucking prick." grabbing both of his wrists and holding it behind his back, making his body arch.

With a swift, forceful motion, you pushed into him, eliciting a strained moan from Rex. He squirmed, but you held him firmly, giving him no room to escape. His body tensed under your touch. "Fuuuckk..!"

You moved with a rhythm that left him breathless, each thrust a reminder of your dominance. Rex's whimpers and moans filled the room, a mix of pleasure and desperation. His voice trembled as he babbled out apologies, pleading incoherently between gasps. "I'm sorry! babe please-" His words barely coherent, drowned in the sheets of the bed, your rubber cock hitting his prostate over and over.

"Is this what you wanted?" you taunted, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "To be treated like how you treated me? fuck you rex!"

Rex's response was a strangled moan, his body trembling beneath you. You felt a surge of satisfaction, knowing that you had him completely under your control.

As you let go of his head and wrists, Rex was already too fucked out to move. Your hands gripped his hips firmly, making his body jerk as you slapped his ass. "Pathetic fucking mess," you sneered, your rough thrusts making his mind fuzzy. His cock was coating the sheets with pre-cum, and his mouth was drooling as he moaned your name over and over. "Stupid whore, should’ve done this to you a long time ago." His eyes rolled back, his cock twitching at your words.

his words slurring together. "I'm sorry, please, I—" his voice breaking. You could feel him getting close, his body tensing beneath you. you couldn’t deny, the sight of him only being held on by you was absolutely incredible.

your pace relentless. Rex's groans grew louder, his cock twitching as he neared his climax.

Finally, with a shuddering cry, Rex came. His cum spilled out of him, coating his stomach and the sheets below. He collapsed onto the bed, completely spent, his body trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm. You didn't stop until you were sure he was completely spent, his breathing heavy and labored.

He hissed at the overwhelming sensation as you fully pulled out, the sudden emptiness making him shiver. His eyes were closed, and his chest heaved with labored breaths. His body was slick with sweat, the overstimulation leaving him trembling and weak beneath you.

"We're over, Rex." You pulled up your shorts and headed for the door, your words making his eyes snap open. He immediately pushed himself up. "Hey, wait a minute!" he called out, but the door was slammed shut behind you, leaving him to stare in disbelief.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

done done done (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*✲ﾟ*｡⋆ soooo sorry it took long being a writer is actually pretty hard 😭uhmm i think im gonna try to post a lot more now so requests are still open!

baii

🤍.

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

I would love to know the Pack’s reaction to Channie’s handcuff selca because I can only imagine how good they would be. Like he just sent it in the gc because he’s at an award show being recognized as an up and coming music producer. Like how could Noona and Han not be the “daddy? Sorry! Daddy?” Type

"Ohoho. You have no idea." You sit back, glaring at Chan pointedly, even as he sighs and refuses to meet your gaze. "Let's just drop the pictures you sent again, just for reference, shall we?"

"Oh my god." Jisung bites his fist-literally bites his fist-and makes an insanely lewd sound around his knuckles. "Hyung, seeing these again is bringing it all back."

"Oh my god." Chan repeats, but for an entirely different reason, as he stares up at the ceiling in abject hopelessness. "Do we really have to do this?"

"I dunno, hyung-" Hyunjin replies back tartly, eyes dark and intense as they pin down the squirming head alpha, pointing to the offending pictures once more. "-did you really have to do that?"

"It was an award show. I was feeling my outfit that night!" Chan protests, trying to defend himself, sounding slightly breathless as he rubs violently at his temples. "I thought you all would appreciate it!"

"Appreciate it?!" Jisung screeches, making Changbin jump in surprise beside him. He eyes the exasperated alpha beside you wildly. "Of course we appreciated it! We appreciated it so much that it threw everyone into absolute fucking chaos, hyung!"

Seungmin is nodding sagely. "I wasn't even home, but I could hear the screams from the lab."

"Oh my god." Chan repeats again, pinching the bridge of his nose now in a show of helpless exhaustion.

"I immediately saved those selfies, just so you know." Hyunjin says casually, keeping the head alpha locked in the focus of his sharp gaze. "Amazing jacking off material."

Jisung nods beside him in hearty agreement, the picture of utmost seriousness. "Incredible."

"Disgusting." Minho remarks, though there's no bite to his words, as he scrolls through his phone, as if he's not even the slightest bit interested in this conversation.

"Oh, you're one to talk, hyung." Jeongin speaks up, pointing an accusing finger at Minho, ignoring the murderous stare the other sends his way. "Convenient that you had to "shower" right after hyung sent those pictures. And what did you need Binnie-hyung for, hm? Couldn't open the shampoo bottle on your own?"

"Not another word, Yang Jeongin."

Jeongin smirks smugly and sits back in the couch, thoroughly pleased with himself.

Changbin shrugs. "Was a great night for me though. I'm not complaining."

"Dammit, and I wasn't invited?!" Jisung exclaims, clearly pouting.

"You were too busy spamming 'daddy?' messages in the group chat, so no."

"Fuck."

"But like-" You point to the photos again. "-Can we just talk about the handcuffs? Cause what the actual fuck was that, Christopher?"

Chan sighs and shrugs helplessly. "A design choice?"

"Between who?" Hyunjin scoffs, rolling his eyes, clearly skeptical. "You and the actual devil?"

"Or me and my bedposts." You suggest slyly, shooting Chan a smirk, even as the tips of his ears burn a bright red.

"Also the strategic rips?" Felix adds, his voice slightly hysterical. "Like, we all know that was on purpose. Same thing with the manspreading."

"God." Jisung swears low under his breath, eyes sweeping first over the pictures and then the head alpha in question hungrily. "The thighs, man. Makes me salivate just looking at them."

"I can't do this-" Chan sighs beneath his breath, making a move to rise from his chair.

You stop him with fingers around his wrist.

"No way, jose. You put us through this, you're gonna deal with the consequences of your actions. Sit your ass back down."

Chan sits, albeit reluctantly, gritting his teeth.

"Was fun to leave bruises all over those thighs, I'll be honest." Hyunjin remarks casually, but his gaze is predatory now. "Just as a little reminder, for the next time."

"Very fun." You agree, leaning over to tap your finger gently against Chan's very pink ear. "Where are those handcuffs, Channie? Do you know? Think you could find them?"

Chan swallows, hard enough to be heard by everyone in the room.

Hyunjin grins, baring his sharp teeth.

"Oh, I know right where they are."

[goodlucktai]

soft ground, claiming moon

it came from the trees

@natsumeweek 2023 day 2; keepsakes/new meetings read on ao3

(previous) (next) 

x

In a way, this situation reminds Takashi of when he was new to town—when he inadvertently led a mean ghoul straight to his bright, affable classmate and got him possessed.

Nishimura is never quick to anger when he’s in his own mind. He never snaps, never gives in to anger. He has a temper, because he’s too lively and feels too much about everything not to, but even when he’s on a long rant about the guy who cut in front of Mana at the convenience store—or waxing poetic about burning down Takashi’s old junior high school because Takashi unthinkingly mentioned the time the upperclassmen locked him in a closet there—it’s not really anger.  It’s just another shape his caring takes. 

The Nishimura in front of Takashi now is equal parts miserable and prickly. He’s wrapped in Tanuma’s jacket, a size too big, and his eyes are red-rimmed, face more and more pale, as if he’s very sick. He’s irritable as if he’s sick, too, energy sapping a little more with every step they take up the mountain toward the temple. 

When Taki bumps past him to push a low branch out of the way, Nishimura’s lips pull back briefly, like his mouth wants to snarl at her. She levels him with a flat stare. Kitamoto rattles him by the shoulder, worry warring with slightly hysterical humor. It’s enough together to snap Nishimura out of the fugue state that has seemed to be right under his skin for the last twenty-four hours. 

“Your teeth aren’t sharp enough yet to scare me, kiddo,” says Taki, who is less than one full month older than Nishimura. “Save it for moonrise.”

“Or don’t,” Kitamoto adds. 

Beneath sweaty fringe, Nishimura’s eyes are fever-bright. He looks back at Takashi, as frightened as he was in the hospital room. Maybe more so now. 

“This is a bad idea,” he says for the millionth time. 

“It’ll be fine,” Takashi tells him with a certainty he doesn’t really feel. “You’ll be fine. Nothing bad is going to happen, I promise.”

Nishimura stops walking abruptly and blurts, “You can’t!” 

He must be able to feel it. The sky is a deep, vivid blue, the sun a pale yellow orb, half-hidden in the misty mountain haze. Night is creeping in, shadows stretching beneath the trees. Change is coming. 

Tanuma meets Takashi’s eyes over the top of Nishimura’s head, transparently concerned. Kitamoto is still holding Nishimura’s hand, but he looks like he’d like to pick his friend all the rest of the way up and carry him someplace safe from all of this. Taki’s grip on the strap of her bag turns white-knuckled.

“Hey,” Takashi says. “I can. I do.”

“How?” Nishimura’s voice warbles. “How could you possibly know what’s gonna happen? What if something goes wrong? What if I hurt one of you?”

He’s quick to cry on a good day, but normally over silly, harmless things, like animal videos on Youtube, or the romance dramas he’s not ashamed of watching. 

Absolutely none of his friends are prepared for it when it happens for real. Tanuma is outright hovering now, hands half-raised, expression openly devastated. 

Not for the first time in his life, but certainly for the first time since coming to Hitoyoshi, Takashi wished he could go back in time. He wished there was a yokai like the Days Eater who could make the whole world younger—just by a month. One month. 

Then he could keep everyone out of the forest that day. He could keep Nishimura safe. 

Takashi had encountered okami before, silent, watchful messengers of the mountain gods. Even their physical forms are ghost-like. The thing that hurt his friend was something else, all twisted out of shape and mangled, horror incarnate. 

Sensei pinned it to the earth in one giant foot, but the damage had been done. Nishimura’s howls of pain were indistinguishable from the wolf’s and so much blood had poured out over his hands. It was like a nightmare. 

Taki summoned her own familiars, two trilling foxes that sprang to her side at a whistle. They weren’t particularly friendly, but they were loyal, and their hackles went up at the sight of the misshapen creature writhing beneath the cage of sensei’s claws. The second the foxes had it contained, sensei flew like water to Takashi’s side. His snow-white fur was stained obscenely by the time Kitamoto and Takashi had maneuvered Nishimura onto his back. 

When sensei was only a speck in the sky, Takashi was finally able to tear his eyes away. He made his way slowly back to Taki and Tanuma’s side, the three of them breathing heavily, hearts racing, staring at the mindless animal thrashing and swiping against the kitsune’s binding. 

They didn’t speak. After a long moment, Tanuma wound his prayer beads around his shaking hands. Taki ground a piece of colorful chalk, her favorite medium, down to dust in her restless fingers. 

It was cursed, she had said, face tight with rage and sadness, watching Tanuma release the poor thing into its next life. Her face was tacky with drying tears. Someone’s bright idea of an extermination spell gone wrong. Those stupid exorcists don’t know the damage they do. 

It was worth her anger. When the wolf was gone, and Natsume’s friends among the yokai were on alert for more creatures like it, and Taki’s finicky familiars were delivering word to the local god, she, Tanuma and Takashi were running full-pelt into town. They crashed into the hospital covered in dirt and sweat and, in Natsume’s case, dried blood. Nishimura’s parents were absent, but his brother was there, and so was Kitamoto’s entire family. 

Kitamoto was sitting in a chair, hands tucked between his knees, terror in his eyes. Someone had gotten him a fresh shirt to wear, at least. His hands had been scrubbed raw. Sensei was squished stubbornly against his side. 

It felt disloyal to think it, but they were lucky. If it had been a real wolf that mauled him, Nishimura probably would have bled out before sensei could deliver him to the hospital. If it had been an actual wraith or monster, the poison it left in him would have done nothing but destroy. 

Even cursed, the wolf was still a messenger of the mountain god, inherently divine in nature. Even the evil forced into its spirit could do good. Once Nishimura’s fever broke, he improved in leaps and bounds. Taki had to sketch a quick circle on the back of Nishimura’s hospital bed to lightly confound the medical staff who otherwise might have been confused at the unnatural rate of healing. 

When they weren’t glued to Nishimura’s side, they were pouring themselves into research.  It didn’t take them long to figure out the nature of the beast. Especially when Tanuma overheard one of the nurses asking Nishimura’s brother if Nishimura had any allergies. 

Eggs when he was little, Kiyoshi replied, nonplussed. But he outgrew that. 

He’s having a bit of a reaction to something, the nurse said. It might be the dressings. They contain silver. It’s a rare allergy, but not unheard of. I’ll change these and we’ll go from there. 

Oh, god, Tanuma had said out loud, and then fled the room when Kiyoshi and the nurse looked at him weird. 

Since then, they’ve poured every second of their time and energy into preparing for the full moon. The Yatsuhara spirits are active and vigilant, hundreds of secret little guards, and Takashi can feel himself thrumming with the excess energy. Ogata and Shibata are meeting at the station in Yatsushiro and according to their LINE messages, they’ll be in Hitoyoshi within the hour. 

They’ve got this. Whatever happens, they’ll handle it together. Takashi gazes at Nishimura, wishing he knew how to tell him that Nishimura is the one who taught him how to do that in the first place. How to put his faith into his friend’s hands and let them hold onto it. 

That noisy, clingy boy from his homeroom who attached himself to Takashi on day one, who adamantly refused to let Takashi wander off alone. Takashi is determined to return the favor.

“You won’t hurt anybody,” Takashi tells him now. “You’ll still be you.”

Nishimura’s eyes drip with tears. His fear is visceral. There’s nothing he can do to stop the sun from going down. There’s nothing any of them can do to stop the change from coming. 

But Takashi can, at the very least, make his friend less afraid.

“We have the best witch in Kyushu here to help,” he says lightly. It makes Taki smile at him, and then at Nishimura when he glances her way. “And our favorite monk-in-training, and sensei. Nothing bad is going to happen, okay? We won’t let it.”

While Tanuma’s brain buffers, surprised and pleased to be anyone’s favorite anything, Nyanko-sensei jumps down from his shoulder and lands with a muffled thump in the damp leaf-litter. 

“That’s right, brat,” sensei says. “A puny wolf is no match for me. Now hurry up and get walking before the strawberry cake in Kitamoto’s bag goes bad.”

“That was supposed to be a surprise, you rat!” Kitamoto shouts. 

Nishimura laughs. It’s wet and shaky, and he looks surprised to have done it, but it leaves a tiny smile on his face. He crouches when sensei paws imperiously at his leg and scoops the fat cat up into the crook of his arm. 

They climb the rest of the way to the temple in better spirits. Daylight is barely clinging to the sky with pale fingers. Tanuma’s father left the lights on for him before he left. It would ordinarily be the kind of warmly-lit beacon that takes all the stress out of your shoulders, a comfortable, familiar, safe sight at the end of the road. 

But today the sight is marred by Natori, standing on the path way with his arms folded and a bag at his feet. Something glints in his hand. His familiars drift warily behind him like sharks. 

“Looks like I’m fashionably early,” the exorcist says with a gleaming grin. “Introduce me to your friends, Natsume.”

[autogyne-redacted]

My hammock's bugnet zipper broke so now I'm just rolling it closed (dry bag style) and then clothes pinning it, and I think it's gonna just work?

Like obviously is slightly less convenient to get in and out and we'll see if it adds weird strain/wear on it but I'm feeling good so far

[novelcain]

Hi, it’s me again, I had a couple of ideas, a couple are about possible bard reader, another is a musing for any reader, and the last is a general question.

1. Bards aren’t solely musicians, (from my dnd experience,) they also recite poems, ballads, and stories. So what if Reader tries to keep some of the more prone to boredom pilgrims by talking about various other myths and stories she might know? For example, she might’ve had an ancient Egypt or Greek mythology phase and still remembers a lot of those stories and when things are getting dull, she just goes like “Hey, wanna hear a funny story?” And then talk about Midas getting cursed with donkey ears. It manages to occupy the silence with something more interesting.

2. I’ve seen the Ruan being suggested as Reader’s instrument, but I wonder if anyone has considered the Xun. A xun is basically a small ceramic or wood instrument in the same family as the ocarina, but played slightly differently. They’re quite portable, and they could also make for a convenient “which one of these identical monkeys is Six Eared Macaque,” test. Nothing against the Ruan, just wanted to share. (Bonus: if the Reader likes the Zelda games, she could play some of those songs and most of them are either soothing or fun to dance to.)

2.5. Personally, I am an edgy girl, so if I chose to sing, it’d be like the early 2000s nu-metal songs from groups like Evanescence, Breaking Benjamin, Three Days Grace, and all of that other stuff, so that’d be embarrassing.

3. How are she and Tripitaka going to stay warm in the winter? There were points in the book where it was stated to be snowing or at least very cold, and idk if Guanyin would give them coats or if they’d have to get one of the other pilgrims to beg for a couple of used old coats. If Guanyin did give them some, it’d be neat to see like a feather cloak or something along those lines as feathers (down) are very good at insulating and keeping one warm.

4. Given all of the times when Tripitaka either punishes Monkey too severely and/or kicks him out, I can imagine the Six Eared Macaque arc being the one where reader genuinely loses her patience and slaps the monk across the face. She doesn’t really even say anything, just turns to leave and if they say anything about how they need her to guide them, “well, you can figure it out for yourself, because I’m done putting up with your ‘holier than thou’ bullshit.” Then goes to find Wukong. Depends on if you want the one she finds to be the real one, trying not to cry, or if she runs into his doppelgänger. (Suppose we’ll have to wait and see.)

Have a good Sunday, Skittle!

-🌺 Anon

Hello again~

ok soooo i'm gonna admit that at first I had no idea what you were talking about but then I remembered that one of my followers did fanart with their version of Reader using a Ruan and I just wanna say that isn't canon it was just someone's art. anything that i post about ittw on here should be considered specifically not canon just for fun. i also won't answer any questions about what will happen in the future of any of my fics or au's (i know i'm a meanie😋). you can find all my ask rules on my pinned post 😊 (tho i might update them soon)

also everything about ittw was set in stone before i even began writing. nothing will change the plot even if i find an idea that i like (there was one idea from someone's fanart that i liked and i was thinking about using since it wouldn't effect the plot [after getting their permission] but i won't be doing that now because i don't want anyone to think i'm playing favorites or have a bunch of people try to get me to add their ideas as well. i've already had a bunch of people try to do that and it really stresses me out cause it's hard to stay nice in those situations) because of that (and i mean this in the nicest way possible i promise i'm not trying to sound like a jerk) i won't be taking any suggestions for plots unless i specifically ask for them🤗

I hope you have a great Sunday too, 🌺 Anon!