#how do i feel...idunno

[itissadbutitsmy-artblog]

i overturn my uncles barbeque grill and turn the Fourth Of July into the Fourth Of Shit

theres a gray one becaesu i actually hate coloring things so much

[realjem-art]

lala baby lumieeeee

[mercurymentality]

lol i thought having a fun little shroom trip would make me feel better but instead i just cried in the woods for 2 hours because i thought i was going to die & was full of fear…. damn

[monsterbisexual]

what is ur problemmmmmmm

[jadenvargen]

If I want to study someone's art or style, how do I do that? Like where do you even start when looking at an illustration that they made 😭thank you!!!

Here’s stuff i think about. i don’t do that many style studies, so idunno how helpful it is! pls sound in tha comments if anyone has tips:) 

Pinpoint what stuff you like, and focus on that. Focus on technique rather than exact replication, for example ( just first thing comes to mind) if you like rostov’s disco elysium cover art and want to study it, don’t just repaint the image, find what’s key in the style. looseness, maybe? then, instead of copying the image with your technique, try to apply the same looseness. (feat. shitty 5 min sketch plz dont judge example of how i normally approax paintings, versus a study. ALSO not to say u CANT do this it's just how i would study, myself. )

That being said, don’t force yourself to make art decisions that feel unnatural to you. a lot of the time artists make decisions based on their weaknesses as well as strengths. I do very shaky, hatchy lineart because my hands are very shaky. I focus on painting what I* feel is important and fun. 

Instead of copying a style from a picture, look at a variety of pictures and find technique. For example a lot of people redrawing a screenshot in “sailor moon style” or “ghibli style” will draw… let’s say, an old man, looking like a usagi because that’s the screenshot they looked at, instead of watching what stylistic choices for example takeuchi made when stylizing an old man. So the “studies” end up homogenous. I personally find it unproductive to replicate a painting for purposes of study, but like focusing on individual elements. say you like egon schiele, replicating whole paintings at a time IMO isn't gonna do much, but maybe you can set out on a series where you sketch copy his hands or feet from different paintings, and then try stylizing your own hands the same way? Or maybe your fave artist draws moonlight like a blue stream, or a red one? Try applying only that light to your paintings.

You could also color pick or look at the colors they make and paint whatever you want with those same colors, to understand how they work together and what can be done with them.

Also, if you can, look at their influences! Everyone learns art by seeing others art. Chances are they saw art they liked and picked from there what elements they enjoyed. Looking at the inspiration can help make some of the techniques more obvious.

Basically focus less on copying(not that copying is bad- but not always helpful for studying), and more on what you like. If you find what you like, you can work from there and try to think about your own art from the same perspective.

IDK if this helps as i said, feel free to add onto^_^

[ace1diots]

Also I finally figured out why “Raise Up Your Bat” gets to me so much, and the answer is the dichotomy of what Ralsei sings vs the actual lyrics.

The lyrics he censors aren’t even inappropriate. They’re not really that at all. They’re kind of middle schooler levels of edgy but i just. I dunno. I think its interesting that he still refused to sing them despite that. Also, something about Ralsei saying the word “kite” and the original word being “night” and the two blurring together for a moment to almost read as “knight” when the lyrics are overlayed.

its like theres a double meaning layered over a double meaning layered over something trying to change the meaning thats inadvertently adding to it. like. what if both sets of lyrics are gonna be relevant somehow. blinks and loses my mind

(more rambles under the cut)

For posterities sake heres a link to the lyrics that contains both the original lines and what Ralsei sings

some of Ralsei’s lyrics are probably just there for nonsense reasons (like. the line about Mites.) but some of this with their additonal layer-over feels. idunno how to put this. almost like a prediction.? im thinking mostly about the festival here.

looking specifically at verse one and ignoring the mites line. the “sun shining brightly” line layered over the “blood gushing bright” line really gets to me for some reason. “Lets get your friends and fly a kite” sounds very festival type activity. i didnt know what to do with the “fur is looking white / future lost its rights” line at first but. toriel, asgore, asriel, even ralsei himself? could be about or related to any them. “raise up your hat for a funny sight/raise up your bat for a burning fight” just fit together perfectly- laying that line on top of the lyric feels like it adds additional context to the original line that was there.

the chorus is interesting because ralsei doesnt change Any of the lyrics. And the additonal added thing of this is the Freedom motif/Don’t Forget motif. it uses parts of Don’t Forget’s lyrics and ideas as well as just referencing it musically. It’s asking you to follow someone (the singer of the song, arguably most likely Dess) into the dark, that they’re with you, and that your heart will guide you through the waves (once again associating dark worlds/darkness with water.)

now lets look at verse 2. The only utdr related ducks i can think of are the small bird that carries you over a large gap and washuwas duck so this might not be relevant or we don’t know what its about yet. “And mom kiss goodnight” my first thought there was well, the end of the undertale pacifist route if you choose to stay with toriel- so this line is probably about toriel loving kris as her own child (that sung over the “blood gushing bright” line reads in very “the player has killed toriel in the past” type of way to me, but i dont know if thats intentional?) “When your pancake’s slowly frying” is about the opening of chapter 4 of deltarune (pared with the “hope slowly dying” line to reflect the new fears of our cast of characters, particularly susie here i think given that she gives a whole speech at the end of chapter 3 about how she hasnt had hope for a while and having friends has finally given her some). “and your future’s really bright/and your future’s lost it rights” is just very Yeah- not much to say about this one but it still feels Relevant to it all. “Bring extra smores to the campsite/raise up your bat and face the fright” this. this line in particular feels about how Dess was lost in the first place- all of them camping out in the woods behind the graveyard until something Happens and Dess goes to protect them, only to be dragged into darkness/the bunker somehow? and the last line of “i bet my friends still want a bite/lets knock em dead into the night!” feels like a proper last hurrah for the song, as well as a reminder that Dess misses everyone just as much as she is missed, and that theres still things that have to be/should be fought for no matter how much/who is lost in the process

[just1cefor4ll]

hii! i love your writing so much! So can i request Joost x fellow artist!reader with one bed trope? Something like - Joost and reader have tour together, but hotel staff messes up their reservation and instead of two different rooms they get one and maybe reader is all shy with the whole situation bc she has feelings for him idunno 😭🙏

Awkward Situations

Joost Klein x artist!reader

summarry: ..one bed in the hotel room, how does that go when both of you just want to go to sleep after a tiring day from touring

genre: fluff!

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“I’m very sorry, but all rooms are booked for the night so there is nothing I can do for you other then give you the card to the room we booked for you.” The receptionist says to you, looking at you with a sympathetic look. You’ve been trying to bargain with her for the past 15 minutes, telling her you booked a totally different room but the hotel was full since it was summer and most people are on holiday at this time. You sigh, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and take the key card, thanking her quietly before grabbing your suitcase and leaving. Joost trailed quietly behind you, letting you cool down since you were a bit upset from the situation. Anyone would be since you were tired from performing all day and couldn’t wait to have some tine for yourself but the hotel just had to mess something up. You didn’t try and cause a scene, it was mostly just going back and forth trying to find a solution but without success.

You walked down the hall, dragging your luggage with you and open the door, setting your stuff down and grabbing important stuff before running off to the bathroom. Meanwhile Joost looked around the room. It had a lot of space, the balcony giving you a great view of Frankfurt, the place you performed tonight. He lit a cigarette and snapped a quick photo before putting his phone away and admiring the view. He watched the cars pass by, music softly playing somewhere across the street and laughing could be heard just a few streets away. He threw the cigarette away, walking back into the warm atmosphere of the hotel. You were already done with getting yourself ready for the bed, laying down on your stomach and watching something on your laptop. You edited some footage your crew took from the concert and tried to get as much done as possible before deciding to watch a movie. You put on a random shitty comedy movie, getting comfortable under the covers. You were on the side of the bed where the nightstand was, leaving Joost to sleep on the side near the wall. You heard him get out the bathroom and feel the bed sink, a strong smell of some random shampoo hitting you like a truck. You got some butterflies in your stomach, trying to focus on the movie.

You were half asleep at around 2:29 AM, yawning and putting on a different movie. You closed your eyes, Joost already asleep and snoring softly. He was the type to always toss and turn in his sleep, but tonight he was suspiciously still. You were falling in and out of consciousness, seconds feeling like hours when you suddenly feel him moving around. He put a hand on your waist, a quiet yelp escaping your mouth. He pulled you a bit closer, his back only a few inched away from you. Sighing, you accept your fate and try to fall asleep, succeeding just after a few seconds.

In the morning, you felt trapped. You couldn’t move, eyes shooting open. You were faced with someone’s chest.. Joosts chest. Your face felt hot but you chose to ignore it, admiring his morning features. You didn’t dare move, knowing Joost wasn’t really the biggest fan of mornings, practically having to drag him out of bed every time you were on tour. He started shifting, his eyes slowly opening so you quickly close yours, trying to act like you’re asleep. He loosened his grip on you, you could feel his intense gaze on you before feeling lips on your forehead. “Morning..” He says in his groggy, morning voice before getting up, probably to shower or change. After what felt like hours, you open your eyes, grabbing your phone and checking the plans you had for today. The next concert was next week in Switzerland, then two days after that concert you were going to Italy. You were excited, always having the dream to travel the world someday which was finally becoming a reality. You shiver slightly, standing up to grab a hoodie from your suitcase and skin care, sitting down and grab a small mirror you brought so you could get ready. After finishing, you put your hair in a hairstyle you thought would fit your outfit for the day. Standing up you go on the balcony, getting some fresh air. You let your mind wander, thinking about all kinds of things before feeling a pressence beside you. Of course it was Joost, who else would it be? He stood there besidde you quietly, coffee in hand and handing you your usual. You thank him quietly, letting the warm drink heat your hands up.

It was a comfortable silence, something you usually had on mornings like these before Joost spoke up. “Slept well?” You look in his direction and nod, siping on your drink.He also nodded, the soft and comfortable atmosphere turning tense. He cleared his throat, trying his best to come up with a topic which wasn’t usually this hard for him, so why was it now? “Are you.. okay? Were you uncomfortable?” He asks, his tone being more worried then anything.

You shook your head, finally sparing him a glance. “It felt nice.” You say, awkwardly and he just nods, letting the silence engulf you once more. You went inside, mentally slapping yourself for being so awkward around your best friend. You get changed and decide to go look around Frankfurt. You and Joost talked like nothing ever happened, leaving the morning incident behind. You went inside a museum you found interesting, paying for everything and going inside to explore. It was nice, a lot of things took your interest but Joost seemed like he was in his own world, just walking around and looking dazed. Once you decided it was time to head back, you made your way to the hotel once more. You met a few fans, most of them being thirsty for Joost anyway but finally you got to your destination. Joost looked pretty annoyed about something, sparing you a few glances and pouts. You sat down next to him on the bed, deciding to get the information out of him. “What’s wrong?” You ask, making him chuckle. “Being blunt, are we?” You shrug and raise a brow, your leg bouncing impatiently. “Joost, what’s bothering you hm? You haven’t started a random topic for 15 minutes. Which is very unlike you might I add.” He stares at you dumbfounded but shakes his head. He shrugs and looks like he is trying to find the right words to explain his sour mood. “Well, last night..” He starts and you mentally curse. You really were hoping this wasn’t mentioned but it had to be at some point.

“I liked.. what happened and I’m pretty sure you did too because you would’ve spoken up about it, I know you enough to know you speak up about things when you’re uncomfortable with something.” He starts and you try your best to not break eye contact with him, letting him speak his mind. “I didn’t only like that, I like you and have for almost a year and I thought we could.. try?” You smirk, deciding to tease him; “Try..?” You smile and he looks at you with a ‘really?’ face. “You want me to spell it out for you? I want us, to be together, at least try. We can work something out I know we can.” He says and you nod, inching closer to him. “I’d love to Joost.” You say and he stands up spinning you around making you giggle like a child. The rest of the night was just you two making fun of the situation and what convinced Joost to confess. It really was funny that one bed made you get together with the most amazing person on earth.

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[laurieluvrr]

Yuwen and Laurie have potential you said 👉🏼👈🏼

They are my guilty pairing lol. Like they just middle schooler now and still dont know what they doing when having relationship. It took Yuwen a week to get a gf and she break up with him.

Maybe in some future like in high school or something, Laurie and Yuwen could be together when they finally mature. I mean Laurie did kinda have a crush on him. Maybe Yuwen could apologies for what he did to her and they idk give chance to each other.

I like it for Laurie to fall first and Yuwen fall harder but everything is slowburn. Really feel like Yuwen never date anyone after Taylor. He change but didnt give a second chance to himself. And Laurie still have a crush on that little Yuwen. Not much but still tiny crush, like really tiny🤏🏼

Sorry for yapping I just have thought 😭

I totally get what you're saying and I TOTALLY CAN GET BEHIND THAT!!! thank you for being brave, dear ainnur .... I can somewhat agree yes. Though I would say I could only imagine them in middle school, more as like... Yuwen going "yeah why not ┐⁠(⁠ ⁠˘⁠_⁠˘⁠)⁠┌" and Laurie is like "OMG a bf! I finally got one! :D" they don't ACTUALLY like each other, they just like the idea of having a bf/gf. if they were to date in middle school mostly in this hypothetical scenario, it would be like that ... Idunno how to explain how I vision their dynamic so I just drew it.

In highschool however, I imagine Laurie has a bit more confidence , and Yuwen is SLIGHTLY more mature. And they kind of banter casually like.

Yuwen: oh my god I remember when you fell flat on your face when we played softball, that video is still up it's priceless!

Laurie: haha yeah;;; ... I wish I had filmed you getting dumped by taylor in the middle of the championship that would've made for a crazy video haha

Yuwen: ಠ⁠︵⁠ಠ

Laurie: sorry- (⁠´⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠.̫⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠`⁠)

and it evolved into just a tiny mutual crush,,, that could also honestly be interpreted as one another being appreciative of their company, so not true love or anything like that. But they're silly, and I love them. And I think their dynamic could be really cool.

Also NEVER apologize for yapping....we love it (also Laurie really wanting to connect with mini Yuwen is so real that would be PERFECT)

[tender-rosiey]

First of all I love how kind you’ve been to non English speaking anon because as someone who had to learn English, it’s not easy!

Second of all I feel like we don’t see enough fics of jjk men rescuing us from danger! Like imagine gojo saving us from a curse and being like “you know there are better ways to get my attention?” IDUNNO I FELT THE NEED TO SHARE THIS ISDEA 😭

one more — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: it’s nothing <3 a lot of us, including myself, were in there place before so it should be the normal to be patient with them <3

you’re done for, completely and utterly done for.

you’re going to die today and it won’t be because of being stabbed by someone or something normal. no. you were going to get eat by, possibly, the most disgusting and slimy creature you’ve ever seen.

you don’t falter and still fight though, thrashing around in its hold, “let me go you two-toed slimy sewer looking rat!”

the curse seems to have taken great offense to your words cause it frowns then starts swinging you around. It would probably sue you if it could but it settles for preparing to eat you. you start screaming and letting your colorful vocabulary of curses at it.

your cursed technique long forgotten since lo and behold that curse was your natural enemy. so you have nothing to do except to curse it out till it starts crying or something.

just before you’re dropped in its mouth, a figure swiftly catches you and teleports you somewhere safe, a little far away from said curse. you look up and are met with a grinning gojo, “y’know…there are better ways to get my attention than this.”

he leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, “you don’t need to be in danger for me to notice you, sweets.”

you snap out of your daze, “I wasn’t trying to get your attention!” you huff as you try to get down but his hold on you doesn’t falter, “oh great, I am released from the shackles of a curse only to be trapped in yours.”

he pouts, pulling you closer and nuzzling your noses together, “aw come on now; I deserve a kiss for this, wifey.”

you shake your head and he sulks, turning to walk away from the scene. you look at the curse then up at him like he has grown two heads, “satoru, what’re you doing?”

“I am not fighting until you give me a kiss.”

you gasp and turn to look at the curse once again. it is contained and won’t harm anyone but you can’t just leave it like that so you look back at your crazy attention-loving husband, “you can’t be serious.”

“I am one hundred percent serious,” he announces but he stops, smirking at you, “so?”

he should be smacked for his smugness but that will be saved for later especially when he continues talking, “I was the brave and strong husband who just saved you, after all.”

so you take a hold of his collar and pull him down, smashing your lips against his. he kisses you back instantly and you guys keep at it a for a while until you smack his shoulder, remembering that there is a curse roaming around.

“that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” he says after pulling back, grinning from ear to ear.

you pat his cheek softly and roll your eyes, “haha, very funny,” you point at the audacious curse, “now go deal with it!”

he puts you down then salutes, “yes ma’am!”

satoru then turns around to walk towards it but he suddenly stops in his track. you, who sat on the ground with your favorite drink that satoru got, groan, “what is it now?”

tilting his head so he can meet your eyes, he smiles, “what about one more kiss?”

you are about to reprimand him yet again but then he interrupts you, “on the cheek! so you don’t have to worry about it getting anywhere—at least not now!“

“I should put tape on your mouth so you shut up for a bit,” you stand up and walk towards him, “satoru, you make me think that I spoil you too much,” you hum, straightening his collar.

he puffs his chest with a pout, “is it bad that I want affection from my wife?”

you shake your head as you signal for him for him to bend down and he does so gladly, “no, but you need to get your priorities straight.”

he hums a thank you when you give him the anticipated kiss before he replies, “this is my priorities being straight.”

you roll your eyes with a chuckle, “then I have to explain to you how to prioritize correctly.”

he leans close, lips mere centimeters apart from your own, “a private lesson, huh? I don’t mind—“

you push him away with your index finger, “but later! you have a curse to deal with mister.”

reluctantly, he walks towards it, steps heavy. he looks back at you with a pout, trying to convince you once again, but you don’t falter. you’re already used to his antics and can resist them—to an extent.

giving up, satoru looks at the curse, “you ready to get beaten?”

the curses shakes its head quickly and satoru shrugs, “well, you will anyway,” the curse cries but satoru continues, “and in a heartbeat cause I have a pretty wife to get back to.”

the curses attempts to run away but satoru quickly blasts it and it’s nowhere to be found anymore.

a smile is plastered on his face and there is a spring in his step as he walks—or rather runs back to you, “date time, y/n!”

you don’t know why, but you run away, “but I wanna sleep!”

perhaps instinct.

there is no time to think about it, though, since satoru gasps offended before quickly responding, “we can just cuddle then,” he teleports right in front do you and you bump into his chest.

you grumble and he laughs while holding you up, “so what do you say? some cuddling will be pretty nice.”

“yeah, whatever,” you mumble as your arms wrap around him and you nuzzle into his chest. he presses a loud smooch to your head, ready for at least an hour of cuddling.

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[sleepy-skye]

Burrow in my heart

characters: charlie weasley x bunny animagi!reader (no use of y/n)

summary: charlie apologizing for an argument he had with you 'cause of him overworking himself

genre: hurt/comfort (theres like one line of hurt, its alm entirely comfort)

word count: 596

intentional use of lowercase

the fire in the hearth had burned down to embers, killing a faint orange glow of warmth in charlie’s cottage in romania. the room was cluttered with empty teacups and piles of laundry that neither of you had gotten around to folding. it felt like a reflection of the life you’d built together, but the warmth of the room couldn’t chase away the chill that had settled between you.

you didnt meant to argue. it all started with a simple comment about how late he’d been coming home from the sanctuary lately, and spiraled from there. you’d told him that he was overworking himself, that he needed to slow down. he’d snapped back, saying he didn’t need you to mother him. the words hit, and you’d retreated to the couch, leaving him sitting at the kitchen table to finish his meal in silence.

now, hours later, you were curled up by the couch, a blanket draped over your shoulders. the tension in the air was thick, he’s not back home yet, its late. but you were too tired to keep fighting. instead, you let your magic take over, your body shifting and shrinking until you were a small, fluffy bunny nestled in the folds of the blanket. it was easier this way. as a bunny, your emotions felt simpler, quieter. The world seemed less overwhelming.

you didn’t hear charlie come in, but you felt the dip of the couch as he sat down beside you. His hand brushed lightly over your fur, his touch hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed to reach for you. you didn’t move closer, but you didn’t pull away either.

“hey,” he said softly, his voice rough with exhaustion. “i missed you.”

you twitched your nose but stayed still, your ears pinned flat towards your back. charlie sighed, running a hand through his messy red hair. “i’m sorry,” he murmured. 

“i shouldn’t have said what i said. i know you’re just worried about me. i just… i don’t know how to manage it all. the dragons, the research, the deadlines—it feels like there’s never enough time. and when I come home, i’m so tired i can’t think straight. but that doesn’t mean i get to take it out on you.”

his fingers trailed down your back, gentle and soothing. “you’re always looking out for me. and I’m an idiot for not seeing that, for not appreciating it.”

you shifted slightly, your round eyes meeting his. charlie’s lips curved into a small, tired smile. “you’re really cute like this, you know. But I’m not letting you off the hook that easily.”

you didn’t transform back—not yet. instead, you hopped closer to him, nuzzling against his hand. charlie chuckled softly, scooping you up and cradling you against his chest. “alright, fine. we can stay like this for a bit longer.”

he leaned back against the couch, his fingers idly stroking your fur. you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your paws, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. it felt familiar, comforting.

“i don’t tell you enough,” charlie said after a while, his voice quiet. “how much you mean to me. how much it means that you’re here, putting up with my nonsense. i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

you shifted in his hands, curling up even tighter, your small body pressed against his chest, white fur contrasting against his shirt. he sighed, resting his chin on top of your head. “suppose cuddling with a rabbit after work is not that bad either.”

an: ooc charlie? idunno. we just need more charlie content :)

[superstar-nan]

Execute Command

Night 1

Summary: You're an engineer, and your best friend who works as an overnight security guard for Fazbear's Fright calls you asking for a favor. Now there's a giant rotting bunny animatronic in your home, and you need to fix him by Friday.

Words: 5,062

Fun stuff: Springtrap POV, Springtrap/Reader (but really William/Reader/Spring Bonnie─Willaim and Spring Bonnie are treated like seperate creatures), gender neutral reader, cannon typical violence, slow burn, William is a monster and insane but Spring Bonnie is just a robot, the way Spring Bonnie acts is based on this post. Dark fic. Uploaded from my Ao3.

Technically an AU of my fic Fight Tooth and Nail where the reader's best friend doesn't die, but it can be read as a stand alone.

Next

───── (\ /) ─────

I was locked in darkness so long that sunlight burned me. 

The sunlight that poked through my crate, taunting and painful, was the only indication of where I was.

“Yeah, I mean—I guess you can set it over there.”

“You don’t got a... workshop er somethin’ we can drop this thing off at?” 

“Does this place look big enough for a workshop?”

There was silence.

“No. I don’t. Just set it in the living room.”

“You got it, boss.”

My crate was lifted and pushed. The movement alone tore into me like knives, springlocks pulling against flesh that could somehow still feel pain. I was used to it.

I was set down with a resounding THUD. Pain shocked through me and I saw red.

I’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthemI’llkillthem-

“I’m not your boss. I’m just doing a friend a favor.”

Sunlight still burned tantalizingly against my framework. My whole body itched from it. 

> Execute([MOVE])

error

failed to execute command

[STORAGE PROTOCOL] = active

“‘S quite a favor. This thing... it's a piece ‘a work.”

“Mmm. Don’t excite me. When’s the attraction open anyway?”

> Execute([MOVE])

error

failed to execute command

[STORAGE PROTOCOL] = active

“‘bout a week.”

“A week? Am I going to have enough time to fix him?”

> EXECUTE([MOVE])

error

failed to execute command

[STORAGE PROTOCOL] = active

“Idunno. You're the technician.”

“...Alright. I’ll call if there’s any problems. Oh, and could you move it out of the sunlight? I don’t want the heat degrading the machinery.”

“Sure.”

I was pushed, the crate dragging across the floor with a whining shriek. I was out of the sunlight, but my skin still itched. 

The door closed. It was silent. Muted footsteps slowly approached me. One set of footsteps. There was only one. No witnesses.

 > Override command = [STORAGE PROTOCOL]

error

failed to execute command

It was worth a shot.

Something wedged into the crate, cracking and snapping the wood. Then, the other side of the crate. The crate’s lid fell slowly, like a tree falling to an axe. It hit the ground with a loud THUD .

There you were. Sunlight framed your silhouette, too bright in my darkness. You were smaller than me—and of course you were, there wasn’t a human alive the size of an animatronic. You were coughing and waving at the dust I brought. When you came to your senses, your eyes widened. You instinctively drew back—and that made me desperately want to pursue. It wasn’t a new reaction. Everyone knew to be afraid of me. That was my one balm to that fucking ‘storage protocol’.

You drew closer, tentative with a knot in your brow. How strange, that you would draw closer when you were so clearly terrified. You didn’t have to say it, I knew what you were thinking, but you said it anyway, “What happened to you?”

I wanted to laugh, bitter and spiteful. The pain gnawed at me until it was numbing. I had to tear my flesh apart anytime I wanted to so much as lift a finger. My lungs wanted to fill with air when they were filled with holes, my heart wanted to beat when my veins were sealed with rust. My head rang with a never ending migraine from the rods piercing through my skull . Every light, every sound, every stimulation was too goddamn bright . A lot happened to me.

You extended your hand as if you wanted to touch me. You were slow . Achingly slow. Tauntingly slow. I knew why you were slow. You thought I would bite. I would.

As if snapping back to reality, you shook your head and pulled back. Tease . You hoisted up the crate’s lid and pressed it back into place with your full body, enclosing me in semi-darkness once again. Your subtle footsteps left the room. After you were far enough away, a door opened and then shut loudly. You left. You left me alone.

> Execute([MOVE])

error

failed to execute command

[STORAGE PROTOCOL] = active

Being alone was terrible terrible white noise. It grated like sandpaper against my skull , slowly and gradually wearing at my mind. I was back in that room— blind in the shadows, walls swallowing me whole, twitching in pain that never stopped, nothing for decades —but waiting in this toybox was child’s play. You would return. You would come to fix me.

And I would kill you.

Light surrendered to darkness while in the static of my cage. I had a shallow grasp of time after spending so much of it in the safe room . Had it been hours? Minutes? Days? Seconds? Weeks? It felt like all of that and more and less and like the static was consuming my brain like maggots , but also it had probably been hours since it was dark now.

The instant I heard the sound of the door open and close, the static was gone.

Artificial light dazed me in its suddenness, bringing a throbbing headache to match all the springlocks in my skull.

I could hear you moving around; setting down things, ruffling through belongings. You came back at night . 

> Execute([MOVE])

error

failed to execute command

[STORAGE PROTOCOL] = active

It wasn’t midnight yet, but it was close . I could taste it . I could taste your blood . I only had to wait.

You wedged a crowbar in my cage.

You were going to release me now? You were making it easy for me.

The door to my crate crashed to the floor. You inhaled sharply when you saw me again, as if you had forgotten how horrific I was. You swallowed your fear, but I knew it was still there no matter how brave you pretended to be. You were wearing blue disposable gloves and a jacket .

Would you cry? Would you scream? Would you cower in front of me or would you try to fight back? Anticipation sent electricity through me, and I would’ve shuddered if my body functioned correctly. As easy (and gratifying) as it would be to rip your head off your shoulders the moment midnight struck, making it last would be so much more satisfying .

I enjoyed playing with the night guard, they were so easily frightened. But they called for help too quickly. The fact that they were still alive was so annoying. It gnawed at me, like an itch I couldn’t scratch. I wouldn’t let that happen again.

By six tomorrow morning, I’ll have painted the floor with your guts.

You bit your lip before offering a pathetic smile, “Hi, Bonnie. I’m going to, uhm...” You let out a shaky sigh as your eyes quaked, scrolling me from top to bottom, “... Damn , I should’ve done this during the day.”

You really should have.

You took a step closer to me, and my flesh itched to grab you. Your hand reached for me slowly, but you backed away, unsure. You tried again, but retreated again . “How am I going to...” You brought your nervous eyes back to mine, and then something hardened in them— resolve . I didn’t care for resolve in my victim’s eyes. “Fuck it.” 

You grabbed me. Full-body, arms wrapped around my decaying waist. Pain, feeling, electricity, pain, sensation, stimulation, PAIN —shocked through me like lightning . It was too much, it burned me, it was white and hot and I would tear the bones from your flesh and make you watch me break them. When you let go of me, it was too cold. Static consumed me in a moment. I needed you to grab me again, because while stimulation made me irrational and violent , I hated the static more.

“Damn it,” The noise was gone the moment you spoke. You held your nose with the back of your sleeve, “There’s no way I’m getting this smell out...”

I was on a couch. You moved me. I was in a living room—your living room. Your kitchen was just beyond a pony wall. You had tools laid out haphazardly in a way that reminded me of Henry.

You turned toward your tools, fingering through them with delicate precision, “Sorry about the, uhm, ‘ accomodations ’,” You were supposedly talking to me, but you were truly talking to yourself. It was pathetic. “Who has the money for a workshop in this economy?”

While you were looking for the right tool, I was scanning your measly home. There . A Clock. 11:57 .

You picked up the tool you wanted and turned to me. “I must admit, as... terrifying as you are to look at, you are an intriguing mystery.” Your gloved fingers came to my chin, and the sensation wasn’t as burning now that you weren’t grabbing me with your whole body. The softness of your fingers was dizzying, and the pain was lost to the sensation of gentle touch. I could feel my mind glaze over as you tilted my head to the side, “You don’t mind, do you?”

Then, you jammed your screwdriver into the side of my jaw.

With each twist of your tool, I imagined twisting your limbs out of place. Your voice came in a breathy whisper, “I can’t wait to crack you open and see what’s inside...” The feeling was mutual. 

Your twisting started to slow. Your brow furrowed. You lifted my jaw with your palm, squinting as you tried to peer past my teeth. You were so so close to my teeth. All it would take was one bite. 

My eyes flicked to the clock. 11:58 . 

“...What the hell?” You noticed something beyond my mask. You started to unscrew the other side of my jaw. You peeled through rust, metal, and stiff flesh, pulling my jaw down to see what was inside. Your eyes went wide. You stumbled back from me, your sleeve coming to your mouth. Fear and disgust dripped from you like sugar on a candied apple just out of my reach. You gagged as you rose to your feet, feeling your way into the kitchen.

You collapsed against the sink in the kitchen, just barely in my sight. You slowed your breathing, snapping off your blue gloves. You picked up something small and thin that glowed in your hand.

My eyes flicked to the clock. 11:59.

 You held the object in your hand to your ear. Then, you started talking, “There’s a corpse in it.”

There was silence.

“Yes yes, hi, how are you, there’s a corpse in it! ”

Silence again. The object in your hand must’ve been a phone.

You put a palm to your forehead, “ The bunny animatronic! There’s a body! Inside! The! Animatronic! ” A heavy exhale past your lips, “Well, I don’t know! Did someone put it there, for the haunted attraction or-?” 

11:59 had never passed so slowly before.

You dragged your hand down your face, “... Yes , I’m sure. No, no it isn’t fresh. It’s old. Really old. Look, I’ve been listening to the tapes, someone probably died in that thing. And-and I guess they just sealed it away instead of-?”

12:00.

> Execute([MOVE])

> executing command = [MOVE]

Finally.

My body ached with rust and calcified tendons as I stood. It resisted movement as if it knew it was wrong for me to move. I silently snapped my jaw back into place. I dragged my eyes to you. 

Your back was facing away from me, toward the counter, “Yeah, yeah I know! Look. I’m going to call the police.” My eyes flicked to the thin object in your hand. No, you wouldn’t. “At the very least, that’s going to delay the attraction a few days, and at the most... You might have to find a job somewhere else. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t-”

You turned around and froze. I was behind you. Your eyes slowly scrolled up to mine, wide in shock. I left enough room for you to run. I wanted you to run. Run. Run .

“...Actually, I’m not going to call the police.”

You didn’t run. You didn’t scream. You didn’t cry. You looked... excited.

... Disappointing.

In an attempt to scare you, I dropped my heavy arms onto your counter on either side of you, slamming against the smooth finish with a loud THUD . You flinched, but your lips turned up in an unconscious smile

“No, listen. It just moved ,” You said into your phone, and you couldn’t drag your eyes away from mine. “It moved! It works, after thirty years of rusting, it’s actually moving! I can’t get my toaster to last longer than five years, do you know how incredible that is?”

My head twitched, jerking to the side. You really reminded me of Henry.

Now that I was closer, I heard the faint sounds of someone talking from your thin phone. You rolled your eyes, “Honestly, I didn’t think he was actually moving on your shifts. I thought someone was trying to play a prank on you or something.”

Your hand came to my arm subconsciously as you talked, and my eyes snapped to it. You were touching me with your bare skin. Your bare skin on my rotting suit, but it felt like my flesh . It made me dizzy to feel someone. I couldn’t see anything but your fingers. You were just holding me, but it was all I could focus on. Warm flesh, soft skin, light touch —it drew breath I didn’t have; it sent electricity through my veins. I would sever your hand and glue it to my suit, but I couldn’t pull away from it to even cut you. All I could think was touching soft warmth touching soft warmth touching soft warmth touching soft warmth touching soft warmth touching soft warmth touching soft warmth touching soft warmth touching soft warmth touching-

“Don’t be mad!” You said with a laugh, and you drew idle circles on my arm that made my head spin. Literally. Gears sealed with rust beneath my suit spun for the first time in decades. It was grating and painful, but I wouldn’t dare trade it for you to stop. “The fact that the thing can actually move is a miracle . Wha- Of course , I’m being safe! It’s not hurting me, it’s just...” You tilted your head, looking at my eyes with nervous concern, “... Creepy...”

You pulled your hand away and it was freezing. My nails carved jagged slashes into your counter. You ducked under my arm and kept talking, “Let me work on him a little bit.” 

I felt heavy coming down from the high of your touch. My blunted, metal fingers wrapped around a knife you kept on your counter.

“Just for a little while, then I’ll call the police.”

My eyes trained on you—your back to me, completely unaware. I wondered if you’d still be excited if I cut pieces off of you?

“ Come on! Please? I just want to fix a few things. The rusting... His voicebox...”

I raised the knife above my head.

“The tapes mentioned something about a ‘storage protocol’ locking up the suit during the daytime? I bet I could fix that.”

I stopped.

“Oh, and he apparently follows noises. That’s probably why you kept seeing him move around at night. Maybe I could strip that from his programming, make something more useful for a horror attraction.” 

I slowly put the knife back on the counter, cushioning its handle with my fingertips to keep from making a noise.

“Hey, look at it this way, you’ll be able to keep your job? And when I bring him back to the attraction, he won’t scare you every night. And if I get a peek into the coding of this thing- Oh, relax! I’m not being-”

You turned around. I was inches away from you again.

“Whoa,” You swallowed. “Yeah, it just followed me again. It’s... so unnerving . Watch this thing be actually haunted.”

Yeah. Watch.

“Anyway, please don’t call the police,” You begged into the phone. “I only need one week, and then I’ll put him back together.”

You can put me back together. How... convenient. How unsatisfying , but convenient. I could be patient. If it meant being rid of the damned coding holding me back, I could be patient . 

A large smile stretched across your face once you got your answer from your friend, “Breakfast is on me tomorrow, okay? Thank you!” You tapped your phone and set it on the table. Then, you brought your eyes up to mine.

You were nervous. Your fingers shook when you looked at me, your body shifted from side to side, your eyes unable to break away from me as if I would strike if you did. I liked that you were nervous. You had good reason to be nervous. And then there was the keen interest in your eyes, hiding behind your visceral fear. The curiosity that would kill you. I liked that less.

You took a step to the side. Then, you stepped to the other side of me. You were testing to see if my eyes would follow you. You shivered when they did.

“Well, Bonnie. You’re mine,” You rubbed your arm as if there had been a sudden chill. “At least for the next week or so. Let’s put that time to good use, hmm?”

You rubbed your mouth and chin in contemplation. You took a few steps away from me, as if testing to see if I would follow. When I didn’t, you hummed in thought. You walked back into your living room.

“Come here, Bonnie!” You called, “Over here!”

... You were calling me like a dog?

error

command unclear

> execute command ([FOLLOW]) = Yes/No?

> No.

“Come on?” You exhaled. You looked around, before grabbing the newspaper lying on your coffee table. “ “Fazbear’s Fright: The Horror Attraction! Local amusement park is getting ready to scare your socks off with a new attraction based on the unsolved mysteries of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza!” ” 

You looked up. I didn’t move.

“Fine,” You dropped the newspaper back down and trudged back towards me. You rolled up your sleeves, and said, “Let’s go.” The thought of you grabbing me with your whole body again sent a piercing ringing through my skull.

> execute command [HOLD_HANDS] 

My hand jutted forward without my own volition. Looks like he also loathed the overstimulation. You flinched back from my hand like a startled animal, your chest rising and falling in rapid succession. Your breath slowed as your shaking eyes pulled away from my palm and to my own. You put your hand in mine.

Your touch was sweet warmth and it thrilled my flesh and wires to feel . I engulfed your hand in mine, and I craved to squeeze it until your bones cracked and blood seeped between my knuckles. Not yet, though. This might be your dominant hand.

You took a step back, and I took a step forward. “Okay,” You said, “This works.” You walked backwards, keeping your eyes on me, and you didn’t know the thin line you were treading.

I followed you to your living room where you kept your tools. Your eyes were glued to me, and I thought you couldn’t look away because you were afraid of what might happen if you did. But your eyes weren’t shaking, they were steady. They were steady on my legs, my arms, my chest—you were fascinated with my movement. You were captivated by every step. I loathed it, and worse, I understood it. I remembered my fascination with them . Wretched rotten little beasts.

I twitched as you gently guided me to sit on your couch. You leaned closer to me, your brow furrowed in inquisition, “...How can you move?”

I mimicked your head tilt. I hoped to unnerve you, but a delighted smile spread across your face. 

“Charming,” You said. You started to sift through your tools again, picking through them like fruit. “You’ll have to bear with me,” You were talking to yourself again, feigning to me. “I’ve never worked with machinery this old before... You wouldn’t happen to have a USB port would you?” You laughed as if I had any idea what you were talking about. “I’ll have to do a bit of research tomorrow, but for now let’s ease some of that corrosion, hm?”

You set down two small canisters and a fiberglass cloth next to your lap. Your eyes briefly flitted to mine, before timidly staring at my body. You kept your head lowered as you held my wrist. You were deliberately avoiding my stare. That excited me. 

You gently tilted my wrist back and forth, testing the joints, but you were grinding the sensitive tendons and gears in a drumming pain that was both too piercing and too dull. When you were done with my wrist, you moved to my arm, my shoulder, my jaw; the pain of your flexion mixed with the pleasure of your touch traveling up my body. Your fingertips were hesitant checking my joints. Were you afraid of touching my flesh? I hoped you were.

You took one of the canisters and held its nozzle to my wrist joint, but you hesitated. Your eyes were drawn to mine, but you hastily returned your focus to the canister you were holding, reading its label. When my eyes followed yours, I saw what was on the label. Hydrochloric acid. “...Is this going to corrode the corpse...?” You asked yourself. 

error

command unclear

> execute command ([MOVE]) = Yes/No?

> YES.

“Whatever,” Before you could tip the canister, my hand shot to your wrist. A choked gasp escaped your lips. You froze. You stilled your breath. Your wrist shook ever so slightly under my grip, and oh how I loved that. You were terrified , and it was so sweet to the taste , I could drink it . I realized if you tried to run from me, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from killing you.

You didn’t run. You swallowed, eyes shaking as you studied me. You couldn’t hold my gaze for a fraction of a second before, and now you acted as if your life depended on keeping it. “That’s-... That’s one hell of a safeguard protocol...” You said through a trembling breath. Your skin looked so alive and flush against my rotting, soiled fursuit.

I had never been good at resisting my impulses.

> Execute([SQUEEZE])

> executing command = [SQUEEZE]

Warm flesh and bone pressed under my grip, and panic seized you. I drank how your eyes flashed through shock, then stupor, then horror. I was slow. I wanted to savor it. You instinctually clawed at my wrist with your free hand. You dropped the canister, “ Wait! Stop, stop, don’t-!” 

I relished the sharp inhale that passed your lips when I abruptly dropped you. You held your wrist tenderly, massaging the bruise and leaning away from me with wide, uncertain eyes. I would have laughed if it were possible. You swallowed and slowly inched your hand down toward the discarded canister. My fingers twitched at the possibility of scaring you again, but you noticed. Like an animal being trained, you returned your hand.

“Okay. No rust remover.” You said slowly, as if the words tasted strange on your tongue. You held up the other canister, turning the label toward me. “Is oil okay?”

You watched me with dreadful anticipation, but I didn’t make any move to respond to you. You swallowed and slowly moved the oil to my wrist. Your body was tense, ready to jump back if I moved. That wouldn’t do you any good. I was faster than you. I was tempted to show you that, but... adding lubricant to my joints could make moving less of an excruciating hell. Even just the idea of a little relief from the pain was enough to temper my impulses.

Your brow furrowed as your eyes trained on me. “You... can tell the difference...?” The words past your lips in a doubtful whisper. You couldn’t believe it, and how amusing it was that you were made to. I wondered how long it would take you to figure out that it wasn’t genius coding hurting you; how complex my actions could get before you realized there was a conscious being ruling them. I could play pretend. It wouldn’t be my first time.

The prospect of ‘playing pretend’ sent tingling electricity through me, though I wasn’t sure it was me . Spring Bonnie loved to play games. I didn’t know that until he killed me.

Despite your doubts, you poured cool, thick oil over my joints. You used the soft cloth to smear it over my dull, rotting machinery. I wished you’d use your bare hands, but I feared you’d stop altogether if I snatched the cloth from you. You were quick with your work, spreading a few cursory swipes before moving onto the next joint. Were you afraid I’d grab you again? That tempted me to. 

You coated the joints at each of my limbs, kneeling below me to lubricate my legs and feet. I noticed your raw disgust at my legs, where my corpse was most exposed. You avoided touching my rotten flesh; you didn’t even attempt to dig past my viscera to lubricate the joint at my waist. You hesitated when you reached my neck. 

I leaned my head closer to you, tilting my chin to the side so you would have easier access.

I relished the subtle, weighted inhale you couldn’t suppress. You swallowed before slowly reaching out with your cloth. You smeared thick oil with one hand, but the other hand you used to hold my jaw—your bare hand. It was dizzying to feel. It hypnotized me; wiped my mind the moment you touched me. My eyes closed and my machinery hummed. You were so alive . Your fingers were so alive. I needed them. I needed them. 

“...Weird...” You said. You pulled away from me and I was cold. I hated that I was cold . Rage crept through me until I was blind with it. I hated that you pulled away. I hated that you were alive. I hated that you weren’t touching me. I hated that I needed it. I hated you. I’d kill you I’d kill you I’d kill you I’d kill you I’d-

You held out your hand for me to grab. I took it. 

You stood up and led me to my crate, “There you go. How does that feel?”

The pain was still there, but it was dampened.

You hummed, “Your movement is a little smoother. I wish I could’ve scrubbed off some of that rust...” You leaned closer to my torso, peeking past the viscera. “I spotted a PLC behind all that-” You swallowed, bringing your eyes up to mine before looking away, “Uhm, well anyway, we can do more tomorrow. What do you think about getting your voicebox fixed, hmm?”

I didn’t want my voicebox fixed. I wanted that damned storage protocol gone. And Spring Bonnie’s penchant for children’s noises. However, I couldn’t tell you that. 

You peered at me, turning your head slightly as if you expected me to respond. I didn’t. “...Alright, well....”

You tried to lead me into the box; dragging my hand to it, lightly pushing me in. I wouldn’t go back into the crate.

“...Okay, you can just... stand here then,” You shivered. My eyes followed you as you withdrew from me and moved to a door. “ Goodnight, Bonnie.” You flicked the lights and I was in darkness.

I didn’t move from my spot, but I could still hear you move from the other room. Light pooled at the bottom of the door, an occasional shadow gliding across the floor. Finally, the lights switched off. 

> execute command ([FOLLOW]) = Yes/No?

> No. Not yet.

I was alone. The darkness and silence were nauseating. The white noise returned at the edges of my mind like a creeping sickness. It was dulling, it was numbing, it was maddening . But I could wait. Just until you fell asleep.

I waited. Stillness hugged the air like a blanket. I waited until I suffocated on static.

> Execute([FOLLOW])

Pressure released from my metal bones as they executed the command. I was silent as I moved. I wouldn’t wake you.

I turned the handle of the door. It was locked. 

...Very clever, carrot.

With one quick, muffled jerk, I snapped the doorknob off. Your door slowly creaked open. I dropped the doorknob; it bounced softly on your carpet. My eyes scanned the room for you. It was a bedroom, small and quaint. The blankets shifted on the bed. You didn’t wake. Part of me wished you did.

I moved noiseless to your bedside. You were buried in blankets. Your breath was slow and heavy. How easy would it be to wrap my hands around your throat? To lean over your sleeping body and watch the panic and fear flood your expression? If I had taken a knife from the kitchen, I could’ve painted the sheets with your blood. I’d feel the warmth bleed from you. Your horror would give way to numbness—eyes full of life fading to nothing. You’d be consumed by the static that never left me. Your death, though satisfying, wasn’t what excited me. It was your fear. The terror thrilled me. It thrilled me long before I was dead. 

I didn’t sleep. My body and mind still needed it— craved it— but I couldn’t sleep. I hadn’t slept since death.

I didn’t kill you, though my maggot riddled mind desperately craved to. Even if you weren’t going to put me back together, I wouldn’t be able to resist prolonging your death—squeezing every last drop of fear I could from your heart. Now... now I just had to prolong it a little longer than I first intended. I didn’t mind. It gave me more time to savor your terror. To twist your waking moments with dread . You already were second guessing yourself. How could a machine decades old execute such an advanced cognitive function? How could I know what materials you were holding? How could I follow you without you noticing? How could I break into your room, and why was I watching you sleep?

You didn’t know that last one yet, but I was simply giddy to watch that horror wash over you.

No, I didn’t kill you. But I imagined it. I imagined it so vividly, it felt tangible— mouthwateringly tangible. Over and over , playing like a favorite melody. It was my favorite melody. And when I killed you, I’d dance to the song that was your screams.

[official-cvntified-gay]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐞 𝐖𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐈𝐈 [𝐀𝐥𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐃. 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

❀ summary: You’ve fallen hard for Alcina Dimitrescu, the alluring CEO of a rival company—completely unaware of her plan to use you to gather information on your father’s business. What began as manipulation slowly turned into love, but when the truth comes out, will Alcina be able to win you back, or is it already too late?

❥ here's part 2, not proofread as always and idunno about this one but enjoy darlings<3 bye<3

❥ part one

In the weeks following your discovery of Alcina's betrayal, it felt like you were drowning in a sea of conflicting emotions. Anger, heartbreak, and confusion fought for dominance, while you buried yourself in work to keep from thinking about her. Yet no matter how hard you tried, memories of her touch, her voice, and her regretful expression from that night haunted you.

You did everything to avoid her, even going so far as to skip any social functions or venues she might frequent. But that didn’t stop her from trying to contact you. At first, it was the flowers—extravagant bouquets delivered to your home. Each came with a handwritten note from Alcina, her usually elegant script slightly smudged, as if written in haste or distress.

“I’m sorry. Please let me explain.”

“You mean everything to me. Please talk to me.”

“I was wrong. Let me make it right.”

You tossed every note aside without reading more than the first few words, each one feeling like a punch to the gut. As the days went by, her attempts grew more persistent. She sent letters, each one more heartfelt than the last, pleading for a chance to talk, to make things right. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to respond. It hurt too much.

Then came the late-night phone calls. You would let it ring, staring at her name lighting up your screen, debating whether or not to answer. But you never did. Eventually, the calls stopped, leaving only an aching silence behind.

And tonight, at your father’s charity gala, it seemed fate had a cruel sense of timing. You didn’t have a choice but to attend, despite knowing there was a high chance Alcina would be there. The grand ballroom buzzed with chatter, the clinking of glasses blending with soft music. You were surrounded by people, yet you felt utterly alone.

You’d barely stepped into the room when you felt her presence before you even saw her. Across the sea of well-dressed guests, Alcina stood out like a dark flame in her black gown. Her tall, commanding figure drew eyes, but it was her unwavering gaze locked onto you that made your stomach twist.

Despite the distance, her emotions were clear. Longing, regret, desperation. The sight of her stirred something in you, a mix of pain and desire you had tried so hard to bury. But you refused to let her get to you. Not here. Not now.

Throughout the night, you tried to lose yourself in conversations, mingling with people you barely knew or cared about. But Alcina’s gaze followed you, her presence looming even from across the room. Several times, you caught her trying to approach, weaving through the crowd toward you, only to be intercepted by someone who wanted her attention—business partners, acquaintances, socialites. You could see her growing more frustrated with each interruption.

And yet, part of you was relieved every time someone blocked her path. You weren’t ready to face her. Not yet.

But Alcina was nothing if not persistent.

The night wore on, and just as you thought you might escape without confrontation, she managed to close the distance. You were slipping away to the restroom for a moment of quiet when you felt her presence behind you. The door clicked shut softly, and you turned to see her standing there, looking as regal and vulnerable as ever.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice soft, desperate. “Just hear me out.”

Your heart raced, but you didn’t move, didn’t turn to face her. “Alcina, I don’t want to do this.”

But instead of speaking, she closed the distance between you in an instant, wrapping her arms around your waist from behind. Her touch was gentle, almost hesitant, as if she were afraid you’d pull away. You stiffened at first, your breath catching in your throat, but she didn’t let go.

Her head lowered until her lips were near your ear, her breath warm against your skin. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I know I hurt you. I know I don’t deserve to ask for forgiveness, but I can’t let you go without trying.”

You stared at your reflection, feeling the heat of her body pressed against yours, the way her arms held you so tightly. You’d dreamed of this moment for weeks—of seeing her again, of feeling her close to you. But not like this. Not with so much pain between you.

“You used me, Alcina,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “You lied to me.”

“I know,” she breathed, her voice cracking. “I know I did. But what I feel for you now... it’s real. It was never supposed to happen. I was never supposed to fall in love with you, but I did. And I hate myself for hurting you like this.”

Her arms tightened around you as if she feared you might slip away, her cheek resting against your hair. “I’ve never felt this way before, not with anyone. I’ve never let anyone in like I did with you, and I ruined it. I ruined us.”

You felt a lump forming in your throat, tears burning behind your eyes. Part of you wanted to push her away, to tell her that you didn’t care anymore, that it was too late. But the way she held you, the way her voice shook with sincerity—it was hard to ignore.

“I thought I meant something to you,” you whispered, the hurt clear in your voice. “But it was all just a game.”

Alcina shook her head against you, her grip on you unwavering. “It started that way, but it changed. You changed me. Please, believe me. I never wanted to hurt you like this.”

You were silent for a moment, your mind torn between the betrayal and the love that still lingered in your heart. Her arms around you felt safe, familiar, but the weight of what she’d done was still too heavy to ignore.

“I don’t know if I can trust you again,” you admitted, your voice barely audible.

Alcina let out a shaky breath, her lips brushing the top of your head. “I understand. But I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to earn your trust back, if you’ll let me.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the tears slip down your cheeks as you leaned back into her. It was all too much—the anger, the longing, the love you still felt for her despite everything.

“I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

Alcina’s arms tightened around you, and for the first time in weeks, you let yourself sink into the feeling of being held by her. “Then just let me hold you,” she whispered back. “For now, that’s all I ask.”

You stood there in the quiet of the bathroom, wrapped in her arms, the weight of the past hanging between you. There was so much still unsaid, so many wounds left to heal. But for now, in this moment, you let her hold you, let her be close again, and for a fleeting second, it felt like maybe—just maybe—things could be okay again.

❥ definitely not obsessed with Alcina begging to take her back- oop who said that?🤨👀

[starchants]

hi! i don’t know if you write for angel (btvs) but could you maybe write dating angel hcs? sfw & nsfw?

angel / angelus x neutral!reader ; dating headcanons.

word count — 994.

themes + warnings ; potentially a warning for stalking but like in the way that we see he does with buffy like idunno if that qualifies as stalking but i’m mentioning it, technically i refer to angelus (my bby) as well, some violence but like it’s protective angel and oh yeah a small bit of NSFW CONTENT.

author’s note — hi my lil starling <3! i do most certainly write for angel, i hope you enjoy <3! p.s. i’ve studied and have so many headcanons in my own mind about angel (and angelus) from over the years and some get displayed here but i can explain more in another post if you or anyone else wants !!

support mention ; if you feel like supporting, a nice ‘like’ will suffice on my blog, i know some writers love to ask nicely if you could reblog or comment etc. yet on my blog (no hate towards them as everyone likes appreciation in different ways), but if you’d like to reblog or comment feel free after all this is a safe space for any fan-individual to have fun :’)

masterlist

oh the moment he saw you, he was hooked and angelus who was so far hidden back in his mind had let his obsessive qualities come full force into angel.

everywhere at night since then, if he ever caught your scent or saw you, he would ✨ politely ✨ follow you around to make sure you felt and were safe. god help anyone who made you not feel safe at all, excluding him.

this man, even without fully having met you as of yet, would physically harm or potentially “accidentally” kill someone if they dare touch you even with a slight bumping into you or make you even the slightest bit uncomfortable.

realistically as i’ve noticed in btvs and angel the series + my own personal headcanon, angelus isn’t a 100% gone like they tend to try and portray in both series. sure like angel has his soul most of the time but that anger? how he moves or snaps when he loses his mind? how he seems to not entirely be himself when he loses control? that’s all angelus in my opinion. i personally headcanon had angel knows that angelus is always lurking in the back of his head, which is why he’s always in there, and angel is afraid of him coming out but as we’ve seen in both series that he basks in people referring to him as angelus sometimes and gets cocky about it.

so we move on with the knowledge that angelus is a sneaky bastard hiding in angel’s mind and sometimes pulling the strings 🫡

the obsession that angel has with you is completely different than his obsession with drusilla. he wouldn’t want to make you crazy or do anything to harm you. in fact, it’s the opposite, he wants to keep you safe from everybody and everything but also let you shine like the prettiest diamond in the dirty rough world that you’ve found yourself in.

the moment that he officially meets you and gets to see your pretty eyes staring into his own, the pretty smile upon your face, and your sweet voice talking to him ; he feels like this is perfectly meant to be. that you were meant for him and him only. he gets even more possessive and cocky about you from this moment forward. i’m referring to him being cocky as in, when buffy chose angel over riley and he smugly made that face at riley as he followed buffy like a puppy out of the room.

speaking of like a puppy, he tends to act that way with you! he’s your sweet good old boy who has playful tendencies and some anger problems but he does good if you try to teach him how to behave. after all, when he was alive as liam, he wasn’t exactly the nicest person to anybody let alone any partner. but he’s learned over the years, both with his soul and without it as angelus, that he has to be better when attempting to care. you are the only one who gets to teach him and show him how to be a good lover as you notice he’s trying, not to mention he will open up and explain how he was prior to you with his past relationships.

you like gifts? he’ll be very good at gifting you random things that he finds and knows you like or that you may potentially like based on what he knows about you. considering he listens and hangs on to every word that you say even if it’s a joke. if you like written love letters? oh my goodness this man has got you. he can say some of the most romantic things to you in his letters plus it’s more “old school” and easy for him to do. you’ll get some heavy devotion confessed in those letters so you better keep them in that pretty little wooden box that he buys you once he realized you left those letters by your bed <3

he’s a very gentle lover to you and not super controlling over you but he does know how to manipulate you / persuade you if he desperately needs to but you can usually tell and i feel like you’d call him angelus when he tries to do that. both himself and angelus are at your beck and call, even if neither one of them could admit it. now i can ramble on about soft angel and soft angelus some more but i feel like we should briefly get into some of the other good nsfw stuff 😈

angel is always in control no matter how hard you try to be in control. he is so used to being in control whenever he was angelus that he grasps at being in control over you whenever you have sexual relations, outside of that basically you are in control.

i feel like angel is a very gentle lover and of course definitely is experienced which can lead into him being a lot to take in / wrap your head around as he can be overwhelming with how much devotion and love he gives you. he pays nearly so much attention to you, it may freak you out with how sensitive he is when it comes to your micro expressions and movements. his goal is to ensure that you experience everything in the most euphoric sense.

angelus is a good boy once you break him down enough, and as i previously stated, happens to always be in control and if you take your time along with playing his games you will be rewarded overtime with him being your good boy to treasure. angelus wants you to perceive his role in life and break him down, play games with him, leave him sounding like a depraved lunatic man for you.

the pair of them love you so much and would do anything for you, especially in bed, just let them love you how they see fit damnit!

[oldiesstationlover11607]

Gladly taking you up on your smut requests omg??? The last one you posted was so good !! I absolutely LOVED the good day Clancy fic it was amazing. so I had a vague idea of a Clancy x reader fic where it starts out with fluff then leads into smut? My idea is that Clancy had broken the reader out of Dema and was now helping her adjust to life outside of the city. She's a bit nervous around him because of how ambitious he is and how much of a risk taker he is. She feels like with how firm he is with his decisions and how quick he is to act out plans, it's dangerous for her. She's just scared to get caught by the Bishops and returned to Dema. She ends up telling Clancy about all of this and he comforts her through her doubts and anxieties. With how much time they spend together while Clancy is helping her adjust, they end up getting pretty close and realize that they're actually a lot more alike than previously anticipated and they bond from it. Thennn you can go from there how you'd like ^^ idunno I've never requested fics before so idk if this is too much or not LMAO You can change it up however you like if you end up doing it!! I'm just itching for more Clancy x reader content really lol -🩷✨

Scared - Clancy x Reader - Smut

Warnings: Fluffy smut hehe

Word Count: 2438

A/N: I love writing lore fics ngl 👀 Also love that we've got new anons coming in! That was a great request :)

Clancy had always been a whirlwind of energy, an enigma of rebellion and daring plans. He’d been that way in the city but the second he stepped out of the walls he’d gone full tilt. From the moment he helped break me out of Dema, I had felt a tug of nervousness in my chest. I wasn’t quick like him, I wasn’t bold like him. He moved so quickly, his mind always calculating the next step, never stopping to rest for long. His intensity filled the camp as he conversated with the Torchbearer and while it was what had saved me, it also worried me. Clancy was unpredictable, reckless at times, and his ambition seemed limitless—qualities that made me feel like we were constantly on the edge of being caught, dragged back to the nightmare I had barely escaped. Hidden at the bandito camp, where the city’s grasp could not reach. The silence of Trench was disorienting after a life in Dema and I still wasn’t used to the freedom. The thought of it often sent me spiraling, making me wonder if this new world was really safer, or if it was just a ticking time bomb leading us down a path of being dragged back to Dema by the bishops. 

Clancy had seemed to notice I wasn’t coping well. His piercing gaze had fallen on me more than once, sizing me up, always quietly observing. I could tell he was holding back, waiting for me to come to terms with this new life on my own but it never happened–my worries growing heavier with each day. 

One night I found myself sitting near the fire, staring into the flames that Torchbearer had ignited. Clancy sat on the log next to mine, looking down at the notebook everyone knew he kept his plans in. The pen in his hand scribbled frantically as he spoke to himself quietly. My heart raced as I watched him, the feeling of helplessness clawing at me. What if he made a mistake? What if we didn’t move quick enough and we were caught? I couldn't take it anymore. 

“Clancy,” I said softly, walking up to him.

He stopped, looking over at me, his brow furrowing in concern. “Yeah?”

“I’m worried about what we’re planning. I don’t trust that we’re safe,” I admitted, my voice shaking slightly. “You’re so–so confident with every decision you make. We’re taking risks without thinking twice, and I’m… I’m terrified. What if the bishops find us? What if all of this was for nothing?”

For a moment, Clancy didn’t respond, his intense brown eyes studying me. Then, slowly, he moved across the log, allowing me to sit next to him. His presence, though comforting, also made me feel more vulnerable. The firelight flickered against his face, casting shadows in his dark hair, making him seem almost otherworldly.

“I know it's a lot,” he said quietly, his voice softer than usual, losing some of its usual bravado. “And I get that you're scared. You’ve been through hell in Dema. I know what it’s like to be afraid of them. The bishops... they have a way of getting into your head, making you think there’s no way out. But trust me when I say they don’t control you anymore.”

I shook my head, struggling to explain the storm inside me. “But you don’t understand. I feel like we’re still running. Like at any moment, they’ll find us, and it’ll all be over.”

Clancy’s eyes softened, and his hand reached out to rest on mine. I froze at the contact, not sure what to expect. But his touch was gentle, grounding.

“I do understand,” he said, his thumb tracing small circles on my skin. “I’ve been living like this for a while now. Always on the run, always looking over my shoulder. It’s not easy, and it never will be. But you don’t have to carry all that fear alone.”

I looked at him, really looked at him, and for the first time, I saw past the recklessness, past the daring confidence. There was something deeper, something raw. He wasn’t as invincible as he made himself seem. He had his own scars from Dema, his own demons chasing him. And in that moment, I realized how much alike we were, despite my fears.

His hand squeezed mine lightly. “I’m here. You’re not doing this alone anymore.”

The vulnerability in his voice melted the walls I’d built, and I found myself leaning into him, letting his warmth pull me in. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close, and I let out a shaky breath, resting my head against his chest. His heartbeat was steady, a rhythm that seemed to slow the chaos inside me.

“You don’t have to be like me,” he murmured against my hair. “I don’t expect that from you. Just be you. We’ll figure the rest out.” I closed my eyes, letting his words sink in. For the first time in days, I felt at peace. His arms around me, the quiet of the cabin, the crackle of the fire—it all felt... safe. Safer than I’d felt in a long time.

Time seemed to blur as we sat there together, the tension between us shifting. I felt myself relaxing into him, my fingers absentmindedly tracing the lines of his chest through his shirt. His body was solid, grounding, and I felt a strange sense of comfort in his presence. But something else stirred, too. A closeness that hadn’t been there before, or maybe had been, but I hadn’t let myself acknowledge. I lifted my head to look at him, our faces inches apart. His gaze, normally sharp and calculating, had softened. There was something in his eyes now—something vulnerable, open. My breath caught in my throat.

Neither of us spoke. We didn’t need to. The air between us had changed, thick with unspoken tension. Slowly, almost hesitantly, Clancy’s hand moved from my shoulder to my cheek, his thumb brushing my skin in a way that made my heart race.

My pulse quickened, my body reacting before my mind could catch up. I leaned in, closing the distance between us, my lips brushing his softly at first, testing the waters. His breath hitched, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he kissed me back, his lips firm and warm, as though they’d been waiting for this moment as much as I had. The kiss deepened, the fire between us growing with each passing second. My hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as his arms wrapped around my waist, drawing me into his lap. The warmth of his body, the way he held me so tightly, so possessively, sent a shiver down my spine.

“Clancy,” I whispered against his lips, my voice trembling with need.

“Tent. Let’s go to my tent,” he muttered, picking me up bridal style and carrying us over to one of the larger tents in the campsite. Lucky for us the floor of his tent wasn’t too hard, the blankets he’d stolen from the city making a comfortable barrier between the dirt ground and us. 

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark with desire. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low, rough with restraint.

I nodded, my heart pounding. “Yes. I need this. I need you.”

That was all it took. With a hum of approval, Clancy’s lips crashed into mine again, more urgent this time. His hands roamed my body, exploring, claiming. The world outside faded away, the Bishops, Dema, all of it disappearing as we lost ourselves in each other.

Clancy’s lips were relentless now, the hunger between us building with every passing second. The intensity of it made my head spin, my body aching for more. His hands, strong and warm, gripped my waist as he pulled me impossibly closer, my legs straddling his lap. I could feel the heat of him through the fabric of his clothes, his arousal evident against me, and it only stoked the fire burning inside me.

His hands slid under my shirt, his fingers tracing the bare skin of my back, making me shiver. The sensation sent a wave of electricity through me, igniting something deep and primal. I gasped against his mouth as he tugged at my shirt, pulling it up and over my head in one swift motion, tossing it aside without a second thought.

Clancy's eyes raked over me, dark and intense, his breath coming quicker now. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, “and smart, and strong, and brave.” His hands cupped my breasts through the thin fabric of my bra, his thumbs brushing over my hardened nipples, making me arch into him with a desperate need I hadn’t known I was capable of.

I moaned softly as he kissed along my jaw, down the column of my neck, his lips hot against my skin. His hands were everywhere, touching, exploring, claiming me in a way that felt both overwhelming and exhilarating. My fingers tugged at his shirt, wanting to feel his skin against mine, needing the barrier between us gone.

He obliged, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. The sight of him—strong, toned, and so undeniably real—made my pulse race even faster. I traced the lines of his chest with my fingers, marveling at the heat of his skin, the way his muscles tensed under my touch. I leaned in, kissing the curve of his collarbone, tasting the salt of his skin, reveling in the way he groaned softly, his hands tightening on my hips.

Clancy’s hands moved to the button of my jeans, and I lifted myself slightly to help him as he deftly undid them, sliding the fabric down my legs and discarding them in the growing pile of clothes. His hands gripped my thighs, pulling me back onto his lap, his hardness pressing against my core through the thin material of my underwear. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through me, and I couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped my lips.

He looked up at me, his eyes filled with lust but also something deeper—something tender, almost reverent. “You’re sure?” he asked again, his voice barely more than a whisper, as though he needed to hear it one last time.

I nodded, my breath shaky but full of certainty. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

With that, Clancy’s hands slid beneath the waistband of my underwear, pulling them down and leaving me completely bare before him. His gaze darkened as he took me in, and the heat in his eyes sent a thrill through me. He shifted beneath me, his fingers brushing over my core, teasing, testing. 

“You’re so wet. Is all this for me?” He teased, bringing my slick to up his lips and sucking it off his fingers. I nodded desperately, my hips instinctively rocking against him, craving more.

He didn’t make me wait. His fingers found my clit, circling slowly at first, building the tension inside me. I gripped his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin as pleasure began to coil tightly in my belly. Clancy watched me with a hunger that matched my own, his touch both gentle and demanding, as though he knew exactly what I needed.

I was lost in him, in the sensation of his fingers, the heat of his body pressed against mine. Every touch, every stroke sent waves of pleasure crashing through me, and I could feel the tension building, spiraling higher and higher until I was on the edge of breaking.

“Clancy,” I moaned, my voice breathless, desperate.

He pulled his hand away, and I whimpered at the loss, but before I could protest, he shifted beneath me, undoing his own pants with a swift motion. The anticipation, the knowledge of what was coming, made my heart pound in my chest. I watched as he freed himself, his erection hard and ready, and my body ached with need. Giving his cock a couple tugs, he slipped on one of the few condoms he’d stolen from his draw back in Dema when we escaped. He lifted me slightly, positioning me above him, his eyes locked on mine, seeking permission one final time. I nodded, my body trembling with want, and slowly, he lowered me onto him, inch by inch, until he filled me completely.

The sensation was overwhelming, a delicious mix of fullness and heat that made me gasp, my hands clutching his shoulders for support. Clancy groaned, his grip on my hips tightening as he held me there, letting me adjust to the feel of him inside me.

“God you feel so good Y/N.”

“Shit,” I seethed, feeling my wall stretch and clamp around him.

For a moment, we were still, the only sound between us the ragged breaths we shared. He pressed his lips to mine, capturing the moment in a passionate kiss that took my breath away. I placed a hand on his chest as I slowly began to move, rocking my hips against him, finding a rhythm that sent sparks of pleasure through me with every movement.

Clancy’s hands guided me, his touch firm but reverent, his gaze never leaving mine as we moved together. The connection between us was undeniable, an intimacy that went beyond the physical. I could feel it in the way he touched me, the way he held me like I was something precious.

As the pleasure built again, faster this time, I could feel the tension rising inside me, coiling tighter and tighter with every thrust. Clancy’s breathing grew ragged, his grip on me tightening as his own control began to slip.

“Clancy I–I’m–” I couldn’t manage to get the words out, groans escaping my mouth between each pause.

“I know baby girl, I’m here. We’re safe. Cum for me,” he murmured, his voice rough and commanding, as he reached down to rub circles on my clit–that was all it took.

With a cry, I shattered around him, the pleasure ripping through me in waves that left me breathless, trembling in his arms. Clancy followed moments later, his release spilling into the condom.

For a long time, we stayed like that, wrapped in each other, our bodies still trembling from the aftermath. The world outside was quiet, the threat of Dema and the Bishops fading into the background as we held each other close.

In that moment, with Clancy’s arms around me and our hearts still racing in sync, I realized something. I wasn’t just free from Dema—I was free with him.

//

REQUESTS OPEN

[sol-rambles]

Okay its really late but I wanna say words about zam with bacon today.

First off, taking bacon up to the closet to tell him about "the demon in his closet." Which one he has each time called the demon in his closet or his evil self, yet as we know.. Its joker zam. Since well, that's why he made it a closet.

Secondly, talking to bacon about how joker zam gets closer to taking over him with every death (explosion) , when he gets super annoyed/frustrated (shulker farm) , someone infuriates him (pangi singing) or just sleeping in the bed. The last one he points out every time he goes asleep in that bedroom. But right after that, he fucking goes up to the room and sleeps in the bed.

Afterwards zam tells bacon about how he was after seeing joker zam in his dreams and he had a conversation with him, before asking if bacon heard him screaming 'Cause he was 'screaming really loudly', which, well he didn't make a sound until he woke up. Literally not one throughout the whole sleep time.

But now, the interesting part... When zam comes back downstairs to the villager room with bacon, he keeps being ontop of bacon and is speaking a little stranger than before. He's seemingly much more for killing people and is now soley held back by his oath (to himself) not to kill people. He begins asking bacon, each time coming right up to his face, or right behind him if he would mind/liked if he killed someone.

Okay finally why I made this post. He LITERALLY does a joker zam thing. Talking about a peice of his skin, and taking off all his armour. Specifically the metal arm, which btw used to be the bloodied one. Something I noticed like day one and for some reason was like, "I dont need to point that out!"

as shown, right after speaking about the metal arm, armourless. (He does quickly put his armour back on, hes not 20hearts or invincible.) But goes right back into bacon's space to ask him if he should kill people. A question bacon has continuously said yes to, aslong as its not him.

-=-

Also, this is kinda separate and may be unrelated but he seems rather against bringing up any other seasons other than s6 if its not an incredibly vague reference.

BACON: "I feel like you've made oaths to yourself and broken them before."

ZAM: "like what, name one."

BACON: "Idunno, I'm just saying probably happened."

ZAM: "I can name one, I wont."

I feel like this is pointing towards s4 exploits and zam is saying he broke an 'oath' with himself to not exploit. And how he broke it by joining spoke in the end of the season.

Another time in this conversation with a s4 mention, someone in bacon's chat says that all zam's valuables are in his echest. To which zam replies "cause the best vault is an enderchest, right?" Which was quite commonly said in s4 in regards to where people (mainly spoke) kept their exploited goods. Or where alot of the duped goods from team awesome were stored.

Okay I'm not done analysing yet but I need to sleep its really fucking late expect more in the morning. This was alot of fun to do.

[urwifey333]

bucky x reader one shot

summary // you go out with nat for a girls night, you promised bucky you’d be back before 10- now it’s 12:24 you have 6 missed calls and dozen of messages.

warnings // a bit nsfw, idunno

Bucky looks up as you walk in. He has a serious expression on his face as usual but there is an added sternness to it. He stands up as you enter and crosses his arms, his metal one gleaming in the light. He doesn't say anything at first, just surveys you up and down, taking in the short dress. After a moment of silence he speaks in a low, controlled voice

"You were supposed to let me know where you were. I called and texted with no response for hours. Do you have any idea how worried I was?"

His blue eyes bore into yours intensely. It's clear he's upset but trying hard to keep his emotions in check. He takes a step towards you

"And coming home this late, dressed like that...what am I supposed to think?"

His tone is accusatory but also hurt. Bucky cares deeply for you but your actions have obviously shaken his trust.

"Next time at least have the decency to reply so I don't spend the whole night thinking something happened to you."

He waits for your response, jaw clenching slightly. As a trained soldier and former assassin, Bucky doesn't like uncertainties or losing control of a situation. You've challenged that by your actions tonight and he needs reassurance that it won't happen again.

You swore you didn’t mean to- you were hanging out with nat and just genuinely lost track of time

“I’m sorry Bucky.. I promise I didn’t mean too, I lost track of time.” You say

He searches your face as you apologized. He sees the sincerity but isn't ready to let you off the hook just yet..

"I know you're sorry, doll, but sorry doesn't change what happened." His tone is firm.

“You worried me sick without a word all night, Can’t have that”

He places his flesh hand gently under your chin, tilting your head up so your eyes meet his. You see the conflict there - his desire to forgive you warring with the rules and structure he needs to feel secure. His thumb strokes your bottom lip ponderingly.

"Need to give you a good reminder not to do it again. Can't have my girl running wild without consequences." His voice is low and rough with restrained emotion.

Without another word, Bucky pulls you firmly against him and claims your lips with his own in a deep, possessive kiss. All the fear and anxiety of the night pours into it along with the flame of lingering desire. When he pulls back his eyes glow with intent, silently communicating he's not through with you yet - your punishment has only just begun.

“I’m really, really sorry Bucky…”

Bucky searches your face as you plead with him, his eyes dark with emotion. He's still not ready to fully forgive just yet.

"Show me how sorry you are then, doll," he says in a low voice.

In one smooth motion he sweeps you up into his arms, metal hand gripping your thigh firmly as he carries you to the bedroom. Gently but insistently he lays you on the bed then stands back to admire your form.

"Gonna make you remember who you belong to," he murmurs, reaching down to run his flesh hand along your calf slowly, making your skin break out in goosebumps.

Slowly, teasingly, Bucky begins to undress, never taking his eyes off you as his clothes come away one piece at a time to reveal his muscular physique. When he's fully bare he crawls onto the bed.

"Go on then darling, beg for your punishment," he whispers huskily, his hand trailing up the inside of your thigh tantalizingly close but not quite touching where you ache for him most.

AN // sorry guys gotta go to church 🤭