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#but after the loss of their arms in that winter...
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The Bolter (part five)
Steve Rogers x f!reader / (Bucky Barnes x f!reader)
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synopsis : Steve carries out his decision to return to Peggy, aiming to live out the rest of his days with her. But this means he's leaving everything behind - he's leaving you. Did he make the right choice? Will there be anything left with you to come back to?
in this chapter : In present day, the reader and Bucky get closer - will one of them finally slip up? We also see what happened in 2018, during the battle in Wakanda.
themes/warnings : pining, unrequited love, Bucky dealing with ptsd, brief mention of violence, language
word count : <2k
masterlist ▪︎ previous chapter
📝 a little bit of an explanation on the timeline : 2016 - Civil War ▪︎ 2017 - post Civil War / Steve and reader on the run ▪︎ early 2018 - Infinity War ▪︎ 2018 to 2023 - the lost years / post-snap ▪︎ late 2023 - Endgame / Steve's departure ▪︎ 2024 - present day / Falcon and the Winter Soldier period ▪︎ 1950s - where Steve went back
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2024, seven months after Steve's departure
You win. Again.
By now, you're convinced Bucky is actually letting you win in Battleship. Each guess he made had been wrong, so it must be deliberate.
"James Buchanan Barnes," you sigh.
His lips form a sly smirk. He isn't even trying to deny it.
You reach across and lightly shove his non-vibranium arm. "It's no fun if there's no challenge."
He shrugs, "Maybe I like the way you react when you win. You get so... expressive." Another smirk. Damn him.
What could possibly be so amusing about the way you practically screeched and stuck your tongue at him the first time you won?
"Yeah, but you let me win four times in a row."
"Deal with it, doll."
"You suck."
He grimaces, "Suck?"
Right. You keep forgetting he is an very old, very ancient centenarian.
"It's an expression."
Something flashes across his face, and you can't really make out what it is. "Do you suck, too?"
"What?" you exclaim. "I just said it's an expression. It means you're annoying."
He holds your gaze for a moment, before laughing, eyes visibly crinkling at the corners. "I'm messing with you, doll. I know what that means. I'm old, not unaware."
Damn him again.
And damn the way the rare instances of his laughter is slowly growing to be a thing you yearn for. Bucky has a playful side, you've come to realize. You get this feeling of lightness, because you're proud of him. The more it comes out, the more it shows how much he has healed.
You blink at him, shaking your head, before bursting into laughter yourself.
Damn it all to hell.
It takes a beat for you to collect yourselves.
Then for a second, it's there. That fleeting shift in his expression. A pinch in his eyebrows giving way to a look of shame. Just for a moment, his mind drifts back to the long list of names in his notebook. To Yori's son. To the crimson in his ledger.
You notice, and you don't hesitate in taking his hand, squeezing gently. "Hey," you say, catching his attention. "I'm glad we get to do this."
I'm glad I have you.
Glancing down at your hand wrapped around his, he smiles, slowly, like a sun rising and casting its glow over the horizon.
"Let's play one more time," Bucky says as he begins rearranging the pieces on his side.
You were about to protest, but then he adds, "I won't let you win, I swear."
Fifteen minutes later, you do indeed win again. He laughs at the incredulous expression that must be plastered on your face.
You take it. Because maybe you did win, fair and square.
Or maybe because his laughter feels like winning.
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The days have blurred into weeks and into months.
It feels like time is passing quickly, every second feels less and less like the lash of a whip, reminding Bucky of past pains. Of loss. Of all his sins.
Life almost feels normal. The kind of normal he is afforded in his life, at least.
Sessions with his court-mandated therapist. You. Dinners with Yori, desperately unable to tell him the truth. You. Sleepless nights, glimpses of his darkness haunting him. You. Sleepless nights, tempting images of you.
Behind all the laughter and the times you would spend playing Battleship on the floor of his barely furnished apartment, Bucky gets a sense of something gnawing at him. Something not unfamiliar, but unwelcome all the while.
It's fear. He has something to lose, once more. A friend or a kindred spirit. Whatever else you will find in each other. It's there and it's real, and it makes him feel like Bucky again.
He doesn't want to lose it, whatever it is. He's already lost Steve.
He's not going to lose you too.
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early 2018, Infinity War
After you and Steve left the cabin, it's like the universe was sent a go-ahead signal of some sort.
The world slowly descended into chaos, and the Avengers were needed back into the fold.
Your group had to rush to Scotland to rescue Wanda and Vision. Then it was back to the Avengers compound.
"You think all is forgiven?" Senator Ross asked, the threat evident in his tone. "You think you can just walk back in here like nothing happened? Romanoff has been leading my team on some wild goose chase - "
Natasha merely scoffs, unamused.
" - and Huntress has been actively aiding and abetting her fellow fugitives around the globe."
You were about to say something snarky, but Steve had already taken a step forward, partially shielding you from Ross' view.
"We're not looking for forgiveness, and we're way past asking permission," Steve declared.
In that time, life became drastically different from your days in Alaska. You barely had a moment of repose, worried about the fate of the world.
But you found comfort in the blonde super soldier who was constantly hovering over you. His eyes would meet yours before a decision would be made. His hand sometimes pressed at the small of your back as you walked beside him. Time and again, you found him watching you, a silent question in his eyes. You'd nod back, I'm okay.
You didn't notice, but in one of those moments, Wanda had witnessed the exchange.
And she felt it. That something. Much like what she has with Vision.
But it just wasn't the right time.
It is a bit hard to face the truth that you might be in love when the whole world is burning.
"I guess this is our normal, after all," you wistfully remarked to him one evening, after everyone else had left. The plans were laid. You all were to go to Wakanda the next day.
Steve felt a sense of bitterness arising from him upon hearing your words. It really isn't fair. He has always done everything right, but he's losing count of how many joys he's had to sacrifice.
He lost everyone once. His mom, his sister, Bucky, his fellow soldiers, Dr. Erskine, Peggy. He'd buried himself in ice, only to wake up again in a world that wasn't his anymore.
What else does he have to lose, who else, before he is finally allowed to be happy?
His smile was pained when he replied, "I think I figured out the kind of normal I want."
Despite your exhaustion, you smiled back and curiously asked, "Oh yeah?"
Steve hopelessly tried to commit you to memory. The lilt in your voice, the shape of your lips. That undying spark in your eyes, which remained even when everything was cast in gloom.
Just in case he would wake up one day and find his whole world taken from him once more.
"Yeah," he finally said.
The world is ablaze, but he's grown used to it. He knew he would lay his life down on the line again if that means it would be saved.
But everything be damned, he allowed himself one selfish thought when he confessed, "We never should have left that cabin."
I'm in love with you, were the words caught in his throat. His heart screamed it, yearning to be heard.
And you did.
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It was a cruel twist of fate. But Thanos deemed it destiny.
Was it always meant to happen? Were they always meant to lose?
Steve didn't know how long he stayed on the ground next to the pile of ashes that used to be his best friend.
Bucky was gone.
Steve barely heard the screams. Anguished voices calling out the names of their friends, still searching.
All that would have been unbearable. The sounds of distress enough to drive one mad. But Steve heard nothing. He had nothing.
It's not fair. Inside, he felt like that sickly kid who was always dealt the worst hand. It does feel like he's a kid again, petulant and angry. It's not fair, he thought over and over, I don't deserve this.
Bring Bucky back to me.
Maybe it was all his fault. Maybe if he never took that damned serum... maybe... maybe...
"Cap," he heard someone break him out of his haze. Rhodey stood to the side. "Steve," he repeated, pleading, but Steve still could not find the strength to get up.
Then from the distance, he heard Natasha calling out for you. He stumbled to his feet, his head spinning. Casting one last glance at the spot where Bucky vanished, he turned and started running.
He found Natasha immediately, but not you.
"Where is she?" Steve growled, and his voice sounded rougher than he's ever heard before. Natasha would have recoiled in surprise, if she didn't possess nerves of steel.
"I'm looking," Natasha snapped impatiently. You would have been her loss too.
Steve felt as if he had already scoured through the whole field twice, his body threatening to just give in and crumble to the ground once more, as the hope of finding you dimmed.
Then he heard your faint voice, weak and weary, standing out among all the others.
"Steve?" There you stood, your face half-covered in dried blood and soot. "Did we lose?"
He swiveled around and took you in, a deep breath of helpless relief exiting his lungs. He was angry and defeated.
He wanted to throw Captain America to the wind, and surrender everything.
He wanted to hear his mother's voice singing to him again. This world is cruel, and he wanted to go back home.
But there you were.
There you were, and Steve knew he had not lost everything.
"How did it happen?" you asked as he approached. "Steve, what do we do? There must be something - "
His mouth crashes into yours with such bruising intensity that it makes you stumble backward, but his arms were quick to catch you.
He was right.
You never should have left that cabin.
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2024, seven months after Steve's departure
The nightmare is different.
It's worse. Much worse.
Bucky bolts upright on the floor of his living room, having chosen to bypass the comfort of his bedroom. He thinks this is because he needs to keep his TV on in the background, something to muffle the noise in his mind late at night.
Another reason, one he hasn't confronted yet, is how comfort feels so foreign. It feels wrong, like he doesn't deserve it.
Perhaps that is why he can't find comfort even in his dreams.
It flashes before his eyes, like a broken montage.
It's almost the same every time. He's the Winter Soldier. He's on a mission. There are faces swarming around him, bodies either racing to attack or running away. But he doesn't see any of them. He doesn't feel anything as he makes every single one of them crumble.
But it's different this time. The Winter Soldier does not so much as falter or show any hesitation as he wraps his metal fingers around your windpipe.
The Winter Soldier coldly watches as you expire. Bucky helplessly watches, unable to stop as he loses everything.
Thankfully awake, in this world where he still has you, Bucky's chest feels like it's about to implode.
So much for being a superabled freak.
The clock reads 3:13. It's late, but he needs some air.
He walks for 10 minutes, aimlessly. Then for 20 more, his mind having made a decision on its own. He soon finds himself standing in front of a familiar brownstone building, where your apartment is situated on the top floor.
You don't seem confused when you answer the buzzer. It wouldn't be the first time he has shown up unannounced.
"Can't sleep either?" You're a welcome vision when you greet him at the door, cheeks flushed by the white wine you usually drink at these hours.
She's still here, Bucky reminds himself. The only comfort that he won't deny.
Instead of walking past you, straight into your apartment like he always does, he takes one step closer.
And then another.
He shuts the door behind him.
You watch him carefully, scanning his every movement. There's something here, something different. He takes another step and he has you pressed against the wall.
His eyes betray the storm of emotion brewing inside. He has to remind himself that you're here, and he has you.
"Bucky," you whisper, and it's all he needs.
He leans in and finally touches his lips to yours.
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My emotions!!!!!! Hahahaha this chapter is a whole mess and so are our protagonists 🔪🫀
yes yes, expect that the next one is 18+ --- but I still won't say exactly with who --- maybe it's a trick? Maybe it's neither of them? Oh well, honestly some of you have got it bang on already 🤷🏻‍♀️
As always, I am keen to hear what you guys think!!
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rayjayoo · 6 months
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surprisingly back with more phos doodles wOOOOOO
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pseudowho · 2 months
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Fire and Iron
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Forced to stay the night with Nanami Kento, the town's blacksmith, after tending to his wounds, you find yourself smouldering in his irresistible flame.
Warnings: 18+, fluff and smut, loss of virginity
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Your boots cracked through the ice-topped slurry puddles scattering the mud path in the village. The shawl bundled over your shoulders was not enough, and the biting cold wind whipped your cloak back, stripping its usefulness off your shivering shoulders.
Townsfolk waved to you, nodding, smiling; greetings for a familiar face, many of them grateful for your travels to their icy town over the years, lacking even a basic healer of their own, let alone one so talented.
Passing by the blacksmith's hut on your way, you paused out the front, feeling the heat bellowing forth like dragon's breath. You tipped your head back, the smell of ash and steel filling your nose. As you paused, moments after, so did the clang of hammer on anvil.
You opened your eyes, stinging in the brutal cold and smoke. You, once more, like a hundred times before, had caught the eye of the blacksmith. He, whose name you did not know. He, who looked but never touched. He, to whom you had passed so many thousands of hours of your life, and his life to you, through gaze alone.
Stood proud at the anvil, shadowing the forge like the door to hell behind him, his broad shoulders wore only an open-chested white linen shirt, and a thick brown leather apron. With his ashy blond hair, and the lines of his face filled with soot, he was ageless and unknowable. He looked to you, his sharp face quiet and impassive; expression always somewhere between fury and tranquility.
Your lips parted once, as if to speak, and it jumped the blacksmith to life. With a barely perceptible nod, and a grunt, he swung his hammer back, brought down in beautiful accuracy, shaping smouldering steel. The clang rung through you, your chest jolting with a short gasp, and you collected yourself, stepping onwards. You were sure you could feel his cool gaze through the back of your head.
Another patient; another healed. Another grateful family; another life prolonged. The days were short now, and as you stepped out of the house of rough-hewn wood and stone, the forest pines were bathed in dying light, netting the low winter sun above the horizon. It was a punishing journey home, on foot, and the horses were long since put to bed.
The blacksmith's hut held its own sunset, the forge open but unattended. You heard stamps, heavy feet and cursing. You paused in the burst of warmth, illuminated, listening. Curiosity carried your feet into the hut, the heavy wet hem of your skirts collecting ashes, absorbing the blacksmith's domain.
"Are you...are you alright?" You called, uncertain, "Sir?" The footsteps, the swearing, had stopped. You stepped further in, feeling the forge belch at you, almost excruciatingly hot now.
"Get away from there!" The bark, deep and commanding, made you squeak and stumble. Darting through the side door, the blacksmith looped one thick arm round your waist before you fell towards the forge, effortlessly lifting you round, his back to the furnace, his face in shadow.
He was close; close enough that you could smell the soft sweat, the tang of fire and metal. He hissed as your hands dropped to his forearm, and you felt a cold dripping cloth draped over it.
"Do you often wander into places uninvited?" He snipped at you. You recognised the cadence in his low voice-- pain.
"I-- ...you're hurt," you insisted, voice barely above a whisper. Looking up, your eyes tried to gauge his unreadable face in the gloom. You felt him huff, warm air across your cheeks. His arm loosened, releasing you. As he stepped back, turning away to close the forge, you saw the blacksmith's mountainous shoulders tense, twitching.
"It's nothing," he retaliated, brisk. You stepped forwards again, placing a soft hand on his shoulder. At first, he flinched, then begrudgingly allowed you to turn him, and lift the damp rag covering his forearm. A thick welting burn, running the length of his forearm, lay weeping and angry on his skin, already nicked with so many little scars. You heard his teeth grit as the air hit his wound.
"Nothing," you scoffed, "this needs dressing. Let me help you." You felt him flinch beneath your hands, hesitant. He felt his skin prickle under yours, finding such curious pleasure in your touch alongside his pain. Your beseeching eyes took him the rest of the way, and he found himself accepting you.
"I...not here," the blacksmith toned, his eyes flitting to the town around him, "if they believe me injured, I'll lose business." You nodded, rummaging in your overburdened satchel, until he took you gently by the hand.
"My home," he began, hesitant, your hand so soft and small in his broad calloused palm, "you'll...you are welcome. It is clean. Quiet. I...I will not harm you. I promise."
Aware of his size and strength, aware of the air of mystery surrounding him amongst the townsfolk, the blacksmith was quick to reassure you. Your eyes softened, and his thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles at your words, electricity crackling up your arm.
"I know you won't," you assured. The briefest smile graced his severe face when you offered your name. You felt it warm you from the belly downwards. As he pulled encouragingly on your fingers, leaving the forge to die naturally with the approaching nightfall, you were led through the back of the hut, seeing a newly revealed sprawling cabin of wood and stone, at the edge of the forest. You felt the first kiss of snow upon your cheek.
"Nanami Kento," the blacksmith replied, welcoming you over the threshold. You smiled up at him, taking in his home; barely lit, at first, until he struck a lantern to life. You placed your bag upon a table, rummaging for salves as Kento began to build the fire, skilled and efficient.
You basked in the homely room; autumnal tapestries lining the walls, skin rugs on the floor and furs on the chairs, hanging herbs above a countertop, circled with hung skillets and pans. You relaxed easily into the sincerity of Kento's welcome. A frigid wind slapped the windows, rattling the door.
Before long, an enormous cast iron pot boiled with water, and you knelt before Kento, appraising his wound in the orange glow. Cleaning your hands, wetting a rag with clean water, you moved to clean the ash from his arm before pausing.
"This will hurt," you apologised, looking up to him. Kento's heart stuttered; how many hours had he spent, imagining those sweet eyes, those gentle fingers? Too long. Too many words unspoken over too many years. He was not used to such tenderness.
"I am used to pain," he hushed, smooth and barely audible above the crackle of flame, "my job has certain...hazards, after all." You hummed, swiping the cloth gently, removing dirt and debris.
"Still," you hummed, "I don't like to hurt a friend." Kento chuckled, and you felt yourself blush from hairline to toes at the rich mirth of it.
"We are...friends, are we?" His voice was low and conspiratorial, and you felt it stir a hunger deep within you. You smiled back, mulish as you dabbed salve onto his burn. His knees were parted, with you knelt between them, and your elbows rested on the thick muscle of his thighs. You felt safe, warm, held.
"All those years, passing back and forth," you sighed, teasing, "and not one hello? Just lots of nods," your stomach swooped as Kento laughed again, "and our friendship is just that. An accumulation of nods."
"Would we have stopped at 'hello'?" Kento retaliated. He caught the brief pause in your bandaging, before you continued. You spoke, uncertain again.
"Well," you hummed, testing the water, "offer me one now...and we shall see where it goes." Looking up, you gasped to find your face just inches from Kento's. He smiled at you, his eyes flicking briefly to your lips and back up again.
"Hello," he whispered, quiet and mischievous, "and thank you."
Your breath fluttered out; Kento could feel it against his lips, beckoning him.
"I...it's getting late," you started, and Kento blinked out of his reverie, glancing to the inky black outside his windows, "I should go."
Kento grasped your fingers once more, rising with you as he stood, your shawl shushing against his chest, barely covered by his soft linen shirt. Kento hummed, sounding grave, stepping to the other side of the room.
"It is night," he said, hands cupped around his eyes as he squinted out of the windows, "and the woods are barely safe in the day. I...I cannot allow you to travel. Alone, in the snow. You must stay."
His tone broached no argument, yet still you tried, packing your bag, your cheeks aflame.
"I...it isn't..." you stuttered, and Kento turned to you, chin inclined to the floor, one fine eyebrow raised. You took a deep breath, certain that if you didn't leave now, you may fall too deeply into Kento's insistent heat. Yet...you knew he was right. The path was treacherous. The snow would take you before the dawn.
"Would you like a bath?" Kento offered, turned away to save you your blushes; a gentleman.
"I-- please don't go to any trouble--" Kento swiftly ignored you, beginning to grasp the enormous iron pot, lifting it with stunning ease. His voice didn't even hitch.
"It's no trouble. I bathe every night. You can go before me." Kento carried the pan, stepping behind a folding wooden screen, and you followed him as if to argue, watching him begin to fill an enormous copper bathtub. Your hands shook as you began to remove your shawl, still blushing, so briefly overwhelmed before squashing it down.
Kento glanced up at you, pausing as he poured hot water, "This will take me some time," he said, apologetic, "please make yourself comfortable. I'll call for you."
You nodded, clearing your throat, hands twisting in your removed shawl. Kento chastised himself for admiring the soft curve of your breasts into your waist, the hidden delight of the swelling of your hips beneath your heavy skirts. He did not see how the steam rose fast, dampening his white shirt, how you could see all the way to his navel as he leaned over the bath. Neither of you knew how the other stirred within.
As you walked the length of the room, your fingertips brushing tapestries and grazing over warm furs, your curiosity drew you to a wide, flat trinket box, inlaid with mother of pearl, the colours an aurora in the rolling firelight. You stroked the box just once, before lifting the lid.
Your eyes crinkled immediately with joy at the treasures within; the box was full of lovingly crafted necklaces of gold, silver, pearl and gem, the chains finer and softer than any you had ever seen. You did not feel Kento approach as you admired them.
"I'd like for you to choose one," he offered, sincere, as you spun to face him. He raised his hands placatingly, a smile at the edge of his mouth, "not in lieu of payment, of course. A gift, I...made them with no real aim as to who should receive them."
"You made these?" You gaped, unable to fathom how such enormous hands crafted such intricate delights, "Kento, I-- they're beautiful, I couldn't possibly..."
If Kento had held any reservation, after hearing his name tumble from your lips, he was filled with the burning certainty that the jewellery should be for you, and you alone. His hand closed over yours as you moved to shut the box.
"Please," he breathed, so close, "choose one, or I shall give you them all." Swallowing, your hand hovered over a fine chain of silver and emerald, your fingertips brushing the gem. Kento hummed his approval, before picking it up, his calloused fingers all softness and grace.
"My favourite, too," he rumbled, brushing your hair off the nape of your neck as he clipped the necklace into place. You shivered at the feeling of his fingers on your neck, and almost ran as he whispered beside your ear, "Your bath is ready."
Stripping behind the wooden screen, hearing Kento amble around the room beyond, you sighed as the hot water enveloped you. Washing yourself with a soft sponge, cleaning off the grime of the day, your hand wandered absentmindedly downwards, fingertips grazing through your folds, naturally moving to relieve yourself of the building tension--
"I've left you a shirt." Your hand darted upwards with a guilty splash, Kento's voice only meters away behind the screen.
"Thank-- thank you," you squeaked, blushing, before climbing out, so naked apart from your exquisite new necklace. Drying on a soft towel, your hand hesitated over the shirt draped over the screen, before pulling it on over damp skin. It reached down your thighs, but left little else to the imagination.
Kento remained outwardly stoic, unreadable, averting his gaze as you crept out, arms holding yourself and squashing your breasts together, the colour of your nipples as faint as a ghost under the white linen shirt. He cleared his throat, coughing lightly before skirting past to the bath. You felt heat creep up your neck at the gossamer hush of his clothes hitting the floor, the shifting water as he stepped in, the way he sighed in relief, almost as if--
"I shall sleep in the chair tonight," Kento said, slow and considered, "and you shall have my bed." You felt indignation roll within you.
"Don't be ridiculous," you scolded, "you're injured, and this is your home--"
'-- and you are my guest," he grumbled.
"I won't allow it," you insisted, almost forgetting yourself as you approached the wooden screen, "I'll put some furs on the floor and--"
"You believe I would let you sleep on the floor?" He growled, furious at your suggestion, "I should rather you have me share the bed with you over that--"
"Fine. Then we shall share the bed. And there will be no more argument." You clapped a hand over your mouth as the words tumbled forth, unbidden. Mortified by your own suggestion, you removed your hand to speak again.
Kento stepped round from behind the screen, his towel draped lazily round his waist. You gaped up at him, stunned. He was...younger than you thought, his blond hair now soft and floppy, the ash removed from the lines in his face, taking ten years off him. You faced him, his towering form, the practiced rolls, peaks and planes of muscle belonging to a working man, his forearms so thick--
"Then...we should get to bed," Kento insisted, stepping past you, through a doorway to his bedroom, where you heard him rummaging for clothes, "it is late and I am up with the lark."
You hesitated where you stood, feeling your heartbeat between your legs, desperately curious, but paralysed.
"I don't bite," Kento called out, and you gulped down the sounds of soft fabric dropping over his body, still crippled with indecision and embracing yourself as he stepped out to put out the fire. You were lost momentarily in darkness before he stepped to you, the lantern between you, a beacon in the dark. You felt his hand close around your fingers again. You heard him whisper.
"It will become cold quickly, now the fire has died. Come. Stay warm."
You allowed yourself to be led to Kento's bedroom, hypnotised by the small swinging lantern. Kento led your hand downwards, placing it to the edge of the bed for you to feel your way, your fingers gliding through soft fur and cool sheets. With shaking hands, you crawled across to the head of the bed. Kento waited for you, flipping down the sheets, flipping them back up to your chin as you both slipped between them.
You heard nil but your own heartbeat. Kento faced you, the torch light embering behind him leaving him only just visible as your eyes adjusted to the light. The sheets had not yet warmed from your bodies, and you shivered. You felt Kento shift beside you.
"You...are cold," he stated as if in question. You remained quiet, gripping your hands to your chest lest they reach out for him.
"I'm...I'll warm up. Soon," you reassured yourself as much as him. You heard one doubtful grunt from him. Five minutes passed, and still, Kento felt you shiver against the sheets. Pulling a fur up to your chins, he felt prickles up his legs as one of your feet reached hesitantly out to touch him. He felt rather than heard you sigh.
"So warm," you whispered, your little voice soft with comfort in the dark. Kento's breath caught in his chest, feeling his cock twitch inside his soft trousers.
"Do you...need me?" He offered. He felt your other foot reach out in answer, cold toes wiggling against the downy hair on his leg. He felt a dangerous, needy arousal thread through him.
Reaching out his uninjured arm, he hooked it round your waist, chuckling as you squeaked when he pressed against you. You hummed in pleasure at the heat rolling off him, basking in his warmth, forgetting your awkwardness for a moment. Kento and you lay intertwined like that, with you softening like butter in his arms.
After a few minutes, you shifted against him, about to drift off to sleep. Kento must have been near sleep as well, groaning into your hair as you shifted, reflexively clinging you closer to him. Your bottom, completely bare with his shirt shifted up your body, pressed back to his groin. His clothed cock was hard and barely restrained in his loose trousers, and pressed between your thighs.
You felt a jolt run through you, feeling a warm trickle of arousal, so alien to you, seep out between your thighs. Kento almost saw stars as it dampened the trousers over his cockhead, and he frowned, his forehead pressed to your shoulder blade in apology and embarrassment.
"I-- I'm sorry, I--...it's been so long...since I've felt a woman-- shit, I'm--" Kento rested his nose against your neck, unable to stop himself from ghosting his lips there. You dropped your head back to him, and he growled in appreciation, nuzzling your neck, feeling your thighs clamp around the tip of his cock, your arousal seeping through his trousers and mixing with his own.
"I've never--" you whispered, blushing furiously, drunk on the feeling of his body against yours, feeling so curiously empty and aching to be filled. Kento understood immediately, and moved to pull back.
"No!" You squeaked, holding onto his arm, pushing yourself back to chase him along the bed, "Please, I-- I want--...you. I want you." Your words sat heavy in the air. Kento shifted behind you, at war with himself.
"You don't know what you're asking," he growled, fighting against you to remove his arm, "I am no boy."
"And I'm no girl, nor stupid," you reassured, "I'm not ignorant."
In an instant, Kento moved above you, on all fours, his arms caging you in, corseting you to his bed. He stared down at you, enormous chest heaving, eyes roving down your body, quickly intoxicated by your peaked nipples, beneath his shirt, the hem of it barely covering your sex, still feeling your arousal dampening his cock.
He leaned down, nestling his mouth against your neck again, tongue flicking out, tasting you. He felt you still under his lips, just a little mouse, in the jaws of a bear.
"And yet, all that knowledge is just academic, until you're crying out that my cock is too big for you," he growled, warning you away, barely able to stop himself. He felt you squirm beneath him, his head swimming with you. He was lost, then, to your tiny whisper in the gloom.
"Show me-- please." Kento shuddered, a drop of pre-cum seeping out of his cock, soaking through his trousers and your-- his-- shirt, to dampen your belly. You shivered, desperate to know Kento biblically, desperate for this fabled ecstasy.
Kento raised his mouth from your neck, reading your eyes, seeing such certainty in them. Tangling his fingers with yours beneath the sheets, he pressed the length of his body down against you as he kissed you, his other hand framing your jaw, gently encouraging it open to slide his tongue against yours. Your soft little moan was like music to his ears.
Kissing you deeply, learning your voice and your mouth, letting you learn the peaks and planes of his body with your free hand, Kento kept your other hand plaited with his own, fearful of leaving you to take this journey alone.
He felt himself shudder with the unbridled privilege of being able to worship you, jealously grateful that you had not been left to some boy. He was overwhelmed by the need to set your standards high at the first hurdle.
"Let me taste you," he murmured into your mouth, and you hesitated, unsure of what he meant. Swiping his thumb across your palm, Kento's mouth ventured downwards, sucking the skin of your neck, nipping before soothing the skin with his tongue, feeling you become pliable, supple as water. His fingers danced over the laces holding your shirt together, giving you opportunity to stop him, before untying them, freeing your breasts.
Laying his tongue flat over one nipple, Kento allowed it to curve to the shape of you, to know you, before drawing it into his mouth, sucking on your nipple while his hand toyed with and kneaded the other. He revelled in your whines, a high, keening mewl as you arched off the bed into his mouth. You felt his licks and sucks, curiously, between your legs, and you could not help but buck up against him.
Kento grunted at the feeling of your pussy pressing against his thigh, and moved one hand down to hold your hips still.
"Slow down-- let me show you," he ordered, gentle in his insistence. You trembled under his fingertips, your hips settling back to the bed. He rumbled his approval, rolling your nipple under his tongue again until you sighed, breathy and ecstatic, "Good girl."
In reward, his mouth continued to trail downwards, and your eyes fluttered closed, one hand coming to rest on the back of his head, your fingernails scratching through his damp hair. Kento shivered at the sensation, feeling his cock leap against his thigh.
When his mouth reached your mound, you squeaked out in alarm, flipping the blankets down to see Kento, illuminated in the orange light.
"What are you-- your mouth, Kento--" Kento's eyes crinkled up at you, and two arms came to loop round the top of your thighs, pulling you down the bed towards him, your shirt being rucked up against the drag of the mattress to completely expose your glistening pussy to him.
Maintaining eye contact with you, you trembled with anticipation as Kento poked his tongue out into a point, first grazing your folds, before stroking from side to side to ease in between them. The sound that broke out from you as his tongue stroked over your clit, hot and wet, was one Kento masturbated to for years to come.
You felt as though you had been lifted from earth and dropped amongst the clouds as he licked at you, sucking, stroking, tasting, the pleasure so otherworldly compared to what your own hand could achieve, that you felt yourself being rushed towards your peak at speed.
Twisting and squirming against his mouth, you reflexively tried to pull your pussy away from Kento's attentions. His arms tightened around the tops of your thighs, growling into you, pulling you back as you tried to scoot away. Your hand tugged at his hair as you arched, whimpering, coated in a fine sweat. As Kento groaned into your cunt, you watched his hips roll and hump against the bed, the sight alone enough to send your orgasm crashing through you, and you worshipped his name in a long, keening cry.
Kento let his laps and sucks become softer, languid, letting you float through the haze of your pleasure. Nuzzling at you, tasting you as you trailed lazy blissful fingers through his hair, Kento planted soft kisses to your inner thigh.
Moving back up, stroking his nose against your neck, Kento felt your hand move down his shoulders and back, before coming round to ghost over the front of his trousers. Kento shuddered, kneeling above you to remove his shirt, skin prickling with the need to feel yours against his own.
Gazing down at you, his eyes like whiskey in the flickering light, he grazed a palm from in between your breasts, down to the hem of your shirt, pulling it up over your head in one swift tug, exposing you completely to him.
Your hand still trailed over his groin as he knelt, and you were captivated, obsessed with the shape, weight and length of his cock in your hands, blissfully unaware of what you were doing to him. As you grasped the lace at the front of his trousers, undoing it, and squeezing the head of his cock between your fingers, Kento moaned, ragged, leaning one hand sideways to support himself.
"Fuck-- I haven't-- not for so long," he moaned, low and husky, feeling your inexperienced fingers explore his cock and balls in a way that felt almost abusively naive. As your thumb glided beneath his foreskin, collecting the wetness of his pre-cum, exploring his slit, Kento hissed, panting and grabbing your hand.
You broke out of your reverie, blushing with mortification, tears pricking in your eyes as you began to apologise. Kento interrupted, shushing you, one hand still gripping your fingers around his cock, the other coming up to cup your face, his thumb swiping across your cheek.
"Not you," he huffed, stroking your cheek, smiling down at you with fevered eyes, "me, it's-- I-- I'll cum in your hand if you carry on." Your eyes glimmered, hungry to see how he looked as you pleasured him, and you moved yourself, leaning close, squeezing him again beneath his own hand, and he cried out in pleasure. You felt another drip of his arousal across your fingers, and you gulped, your tongue darting out across your lips.
As you lowered yourself to his lap, Kento's eyebrows raised in shock, and desperate awe, as you licked the weeping cockhead sticking out from your joined enclosed hands.
A low rumble ebbed through Kento, his eyes suddenly dark and hungry as he looked down at you, wordlessly using your hand inside his own, to pump the length of his cock. Feeling the intoxicating glide of soft skin over woody hardness, you let him use your hand to masturbate himself as you took the head of his cock into your mouth, licking, tasting the musty pre-cum there.
Every instinct screamed at Kento to chase his orgasm, to press your head further down his cock so he could use your little hand to jack off into your mouth, and he felt overwhelmed by the innocent licks and sucks you gave him, eyes cast upwards to see what effect they had on him. Kento moaned desperately, twisting on his haunches, fingers in turn tangling into your hair and coming away, clenching and unclenching at speed.
He felt the approaching rush of divine ecstasy, thrumming up his back in waves, his balls tightening up against the base of his cock--
Snapping, Kento pulled your hand and mouth off him, heaving you up the bed and back onto the pillows, before pinning you down with his body, panting into your neck, trying not to spill his seed over your belly. You were thrilled, ecstatic with Kento's pleasure, eager to see more of it.
You crept your hips up to his, trying to ease his cock into you. Kento huffed, his hand shooting down to press your hips down again.
"--going to kill me-- I swear-- no idea...you have no idea what you're doing to me--" Kento panted, quaking above you, one forearm planted above your head. As his peak ebbed away, Kento plaited his hand with your own again, above your head. He felt his cockhead resting against the smooth resistance of your entrance, and he suddenly felt so responsible for you.
"I don't want to hurt you," he huffed, aware he was bigger than average, but knowing from the fevered look in your eyes that he could not dissuade you-- not that he wanted to, at this point, his cock throbbing with urgent need.
"Please," you begged, "please." You felt Kento's hips press forwards into your soaking wet heat, feeling a slight sting as it met resistance. Kento rested his nose to yours, his eyes still feverish, his body still smelling of iron and ash and smoke.
"On one condition," he pressed, authoritative as his cockhead pressed deeper against your stinging resistance, breaking past thin membrane, gripping your thigh up to his hip as you trembled, biting your lip, tears in your eyes as you nodded-- anything, you thought, anything.
"Marry me," he whispered against your lips, and you squeaked as you felt a twang of pain, his cock suddenly nestled deeply inside you. Kento rocked his hips gently, shushing you, soothing you, his thumb stroking your palm. Not moving, just holding you as you adjusted to feeling so full, Kento waited for an answer.
"Y--yes...yes," you mewled, and Kento growled his approval against your neck, slowly pulling out of you before rutting back into your wet, tender pussy again, so intimate and deep that you cried out for him.
Kento rolled his hips, like a boat on the waves, whispering into you, certain he wouldn't last long; "First-- I'll cum inside you-- then I'll treat you like a queen...haaah...for the rest of my days."
You clung to Kento, lost in the ecstasy of him plowing into you, delighted by his rumbling groans in your ears, blissfully proud of being able to make such an unflappable man fall apart inside you. When his grip on your hip faltered, his shaking hand dropping to stroke quick little circles around your clit, Kento growled and bit into your neck to feel you rock your hips upwards to meet his own.
The sting almost completely eased, you felt quick pangs of pleasure, rising with every beat of your fast little heart, completely carried along by the eroticism of Kento's frantic groans and mumbles into your ear.
"My love I-- you feel so good...so good...god, I need to cum, need you to cum I-- aahhhh, fuck--" Kento felt your pussy clench around him, and he came inside you as you drank down his moans, fascinated by how they matched up with the bounding twitch of his cock, how his hips juddered into you involuntarily, how his face contorted, jaw clenched, somewhere between rage and serenity.
You were famished, starved of him, immediately desperate for more, and you felt him crumple into you, caging you in, shoulders heaving and spent. Kento chuckled as you peppered him with kisses, gripping your thighs round him and rolling him over so you lay above him, straddling him as his cock softened within you.
With his chin on his chest to look down to you, and a lazy lopsided smile across his face, Kento played idly with your hair, stroking your nose, your cheeks. He proudly fingered the beautiful necklace, resting against your breasts, squashed and plush against him.
"You meant it?" He asked, eager, concerned.
You hummed in delight, pressing a tender kiss to his chest as you nodded; "You had me at 'hello'."
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Would the anon who requested Blacksmith!Kento PLEASE STAND UP so I can credit you for breaking my brain.
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leviathanspain · 2 months
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not without him
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anthony bridgerton x reader
synopsis: you knew birth would be no easy feat, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to do it without him
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you clutched onto the white bedsheets, they were drenched with blood, and you were writhing on the bed as the doctor shouted orders at the nurses.
one had a cloth to your forehead, dabbing away your sweat and your tears. you couldn’t stop crying, it was an unbearable pain, that only got worse as the night went on.
violet had tried to prepare you, coming to her for advice on how to birth a bridgerton child. she had her most difficult birth with hyacinth, and just hearing her story sent chills down your spine.
anthony had been away in london when you went into labor. you knew he shouldn’t have left aubrey hall so close to the end of your pregnancy, but being the viscount meant there were things that required him present. you had hoped that your child would have some decency and arrive after the father, but the urge to push only became greater.
you feared that anthony wouldn’t make it, he was supposed to be here an hour ago, having rushed from london upon hearing the news.
the nurse looked down at you, “you have to push, my lady.” her voice quivered, as if she could feel your emotion. you teared up more, “no please- we have to wait for the viscount.” you felt weak, and you faintly heard the doctor shout that you were losing blood.
the nurse looked down again, and seemed firm, “you have to push, there is no time to spare if we wait for the viscount.” she dabbed your forehead again, “you and this baby will die if you don’t push now.”
you cried harder, “i need him here. i can’t do it without him.” you were scared, frightened by all these unfamiliar people. yes they were there to help you give birth to your first child, but you didn’t care, it wasn’t your husband dabbing your forehead or encouraging you.
your vision went fuzzy around the edges and your head fell back into the mounds of pillows that held you up. you could still hear the door push open, shouts being echoed into the room and finally, “let me through-“ his voice.
you heard a clatter of gear hit the wooden floor and you felt relief as he rushed to your side. anthony, still cold with the winter air, brushed the hair from your face, kissing your cheek. he saw how weak you looked, and could see the doctor’s expression.
“you can do it.” he whispered sweetly, “i’m here, you can do it.” he grabbed your hand, clutching it tightly and with his encouragement, you did the one thing you had been putting off.
the nurse over you seemed overjoyed that you were finally listening, there was fear among the doctor and staff that you would bleed out before anthony got there.
you grunted, weak from the blood loss. “push, my lady, push!” the nurse above you shouted, and you grunted loudly, doing as she said.
there was a brief moment of pause, relief that washed over you as you heard a newborn’s cry. you blinked away the sweat, feeling the damp cloth across your skin as you looked over at anthony, who hadn’t taken his eyes off of you. he was smiling brightly, but tears brimmed in his eyes, “you did it.” he whispered, “my lady….” he brushed the side of your face with a hand, and you closed your eyes, exhaustion washing over you.
you could see the light creeping through the curtains. it had been kept dark for you, candles burning just as you liked, even wearing your favorite nightgown. you could feel the pain, that ache that reminded you of what had happened.
you called out to your handmaid, watching as the door opened and instead, in stepped anthony holding the baby in his arms. your eyes softened, and you cooed, “my love.” you beckoned him to the bed, and anthony sat down carefully, the newborn in his arms was peacefully sleeping.
“good morning.” he kissed your forehead, “you have no idea how much i love you. i-“ he faltered, looking down at the baby to compose himself before he continued, “i almost lost you. please,” he looked at you, “please don’t ever scare me like that again. i beg you.” he whispered. he was happy at the birth of your son, but he wouldn’t have been if you had lost your life.
you looked at him, nodding. you didn’t want to say anything, instead looking down at the baby and resting your head on anthony’s shoulder, “have you thought of a name?” you noticed the baby’s fell head of hair and smirked, “looks like he got my hair.” you looked at the baby’s nose, “and your nose.” you laughed slightly, and anthony shrugged, “everyone says he looks like you more.”
his siblings must’ve arrived in from london. you smiled, but anthony knew what that smile was, “you must rest. the doctor said you lost a lot of blood, that you shouldn’t even think to lift a finger today.”
you sighed, “i won’t protest, i am feeling exhausted..” you didn’t know how to feel, your heart had never felt so much love all at once, “my boys.” you cooed, touching the baby’s hair as anthony kissed your forehead again.
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in-another-april · 2 months
Text
summary/prompt + genre - spencer + acts of service | fluff
warnings - none
wc - 429
notes - this is actually two lil blurbs bc i couldn't decide which one to do!!
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You sleepily feel around the bed for Spencer, groggily opening your eyes when you find he’s not there. The look of confusion on your face is soon replaced with a soft smile as he enters the room, still in his pajamas with sleep-tousled hair and a coffee mug in hand. You sit up a bit as he reaches your side in a few steps, placing the mug on the end table. He climbs back into bed, scooching right next to you even though the whole other side is available. You don’t mind in the slightest.
“Good morning,” He smiles, brushing the hair from your forehead and dropping a kiss there. You return the greeting, leaning into his touch. “I made you coffee.”
You hum, reaching for the mug and sighing contentedly when the warm liquid meets your lips. Being tuned in to pretty much everything about you is second nature to him, you’ve never actually told him the way you like your coffee. He seemed to have, like with most things, picked up on it easily and somehow manages to make it better than when you’d make it yourself. He is a genius, after all. (Or so he teasingly reminded you after you questioned how he did it.)
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“Ugh, it’s freezing out here.” You complained with a groan, pressing yourself closer to Spencer in a desperate attempt to stay warm as he walked alongside you.
“You know, it’s more-so the wind than it is the temperature.” He supplies helpfully, wrapping his arm around you tightly. “While cold air alone can be deadly, it’s much worse when it’s moving. As wind speed increases, body heat is removed faster.”
He moves to rummage in his bag for a moment, and you grumble at the loss of contact. You were being a little dramatic, it was just another D.C winter, but that didn’t make the walk from the subway to your apartment any easier. Before you could complain any further, Spencer produced a set of gloves from his bag and offered them to you.
“You… Did you really-” You gape, speechless at the sweet gesture.
“You always forget yours, so I figured I should keep a pair with me.” He shrugs, like it’s just a small thing. And it is, really, but it’s still so thoughtful that you can’t help but feel giddy. You pull them over your hands and take one of his, pushing your intertwined hands back into your jacket pocket.
“You’re the best, you know?” You gush, and he smiles amusedly in response, pressing your sides impossibly closer.
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justporo · 5 months
Text
Sweet Things
You've been brooding all day, even Astarion is at a loss on how to pull you out of it - until he offers you a sweet treat, with lots of bickering of course.
MASTERLIST | AO3
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Author's Note: Written for the Hot Chocolate/Mulled Wine" prompt of the BG3 Winter Holiday challenge. Honestly my favourite piece I've written so far for the challenge - let's see if it will stay this way.
Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav (You) Warnings: none Wordcount: 1,6k
~~~
You had been in a bad mood the whole day with no particular reason for it. And nothing was able to lift your mood. Not even your vampire and his usual shenanigans had been able to pull you out of your puddle of negative feelings. Especially when Astarion had suggested you come with him into the city to run some errands.
The usual excitement you felt to go outside during the crispy cold but beautiful winter weather, to walk through the snow and see the lights in the city - it was non-existent today. In fact, you had taken one look out of the tall living room window, scowled and Astarion had thrown a little fit about how ‘you made him venture forth into the perils of the winter smitten city so the two of you may yet survive the bitter cold’. But even his histrionics, little pout and round red eyes had done nothing to change your mind.
Astarjon had sighed in defeat: “Alright, my love, you go and soak in your bad mood as long as you can, I'll wrangle you out of it soon enough.” “Don't threaten me with a good time, Astarion”, you had replied dryly but the vampire had just smirked. A plan had undoubtedly been set into motion. After that he had been off to go into the city - of course not without coming over to you, cupping your face softly and pressing a kiss to your lips.
Afterwards you had tried to make your peace with your bad mood and had curled up on the couch in front of the fireplace, just staring into the flickering flames.
A while later you heard Astarion return to your shared home.
“I've returned from the hunt, my love, and I bring you some bounty”, the vampire declared. You turned around to see him standing in the doorframe with a huge grin and an inconspicuously looking bag in his hand. You saw some melting snowflakes glisten in his curls. He looked very proud of himself with how he let the bag dangle in front of you, one eyebrow lifted inquisitively.
Oh, you knew he was daring you to ask about it. This was one of his signature ways to get what he wanted: teasing you by holding the carrot in front of your face and then quickly moving it out of your reach with an “ah ah ah” and a fang-baring grin. 
And you felt how his tactic even slowly started to work now.
“A bag? Aw Astarion, you shouldn't have! Bags are my favourite!”, you gave back and felt a sassy grin grow on your face. Turning around on your knees on the plush sofa you placed your arms on the rim of the piece of furniture and then placed your cheek on top of it - basically hugging the backrest.
The vampire frowned at you, obviously unsatisfied with your insolent reaction. But he wouldn't be Astarion were he to give up because of that.
“Yes, a bag. And if you stop being such a miserable and yet so sassy little thing, you might even get what's inside of it”, he snapped back mockingly.
“You know, usually this time of year when someone threatens you with the thing they have inside their bag it's a rod to punish the naughty.”
“Well, seeing how naughty you've been to me today, who says there isn't a rod in there?” His grin had turned sultry, his gaze dropping in a way that made other than your negative feelings churn inside of you.
“I repeat myself from earlier: don't threaten me with a good time, Astarion”, you replied with a smirk. Simultaneously you noticed that your bad mood was slowly lifting. Well, he was your soulmate after all, wasn't he? He knew all the tricks.
Astarion in the meantime had put his hands on his hips in an affronted manner. You heard telltale, soft clanking sounds coming from the bag and raised your eyebrows at the vampire.
“So, are we sulking or are we trying to outwit me, eh?”, he commented with a little sneer, but you knew he was only teasing. “Can you at least decide what your mood is?”, he continued when you first made big sad puppy eyes at him and then stuck out your tongue at him. “It's getting exhausting to keep track of your whims, love.”
He quickly and easily dodged the pillow you threw at his face and grinned at you.
“That's pretty rich coming from you, love”, you answered and flipped him off. “Now tell me what's in the bag!”
The vampire clicked his tongue in disapproval: “You lost the privilege of finding out when you threw the pillow, no you'll have to wait.”
You threw another pillow with a pout but your partner had quickly turned and left the room altogether. 
Since you had no intention of losing other privileges and knew exactly that Astarion was way too greedy for praise and thus would come to you again, you just turned around and lounged on the couch once more. You closed your eyes and felt that most of your bad mood had disappeared already, so you simply relaxed to the bustling and rustling that had started coming from the kitchen.
You hadn't planned on drifting off.
But then you were awoken again by the smell of something delicious filling your nose. You opened your eyes and saw an incredibly ugly mug in the form of a boot in front of you.
But more important than its form were its contents you immediately recognised as: delicious hot chocolate with some slowly melting meringue drops on top of it.
And when you looked up you saw that Astarion was holding the cup almost directly under your nose with a smug grin on his lips.
“Something sweet for my sweet thing?”, he asked while batting his eyelashes excessively and his grin growing even broader.
“Where did you find the most hideous mug on this plane of existence?”, you replied and sat up on the sofa - also making space for Astarion to sit beside you.
The vampire sighed massively while he sat beside you and handed you the mug: “You are a ghastly little thing today, have I told you that?”
“At least with me it’s only today.”
Now even Astarion was flabbergasted.
“By the gods, love”, he said with raised eyebrows and then took a swig from his own mug you hadn’t noticed before. “You really do spend too much time in my company”, he finished after he had put down the cup again.
You peeked over at his cup and figured he must have gone for something with a little more kick than hot chocolate - mulled wine most likely.
“And now go and drink your hot chocolate which I so painstakingly made for you, love, or I’ll show you ghastly”, he said and leaned to you, narrowing his red eyes at you. You just made big innocent puppy eyes at him again.
You had every intention to comply - but first you swung your legs over his and covered the both of you with your blanket to make it extra cosy. And then after some fussing from the vampire and some readjusting you had snuggled up on the couch. Astarion kept sipping on his mulled wine and you finally tasted your hot and sweet beverage.
When the first of the rich, warm taste hit your tongue, you couldn’t help but let out a pleased moan and let your head fall back.
“It tastes amazing, love”, you moaned and let your eyes roll in delighted pleasure.
“Well then. Maybe I should introduce some hot chocolate in the bedroom if this is how you react to it”, Astarion commented. He was trying to play over it with his sultry joke but he was obviously proud of himself for having made what caused this reaction in you.
“You prepared it perfectly, Astarion, thank you”, you said now in a genuine tone and let one of your hands cover his which he had carefully placed on your blanket-covered knees.
He looked at you then with a small, sweet smile.
“Thanks for taking the time and the patience to put up with me and make this, Astarion”, you said and softly squeezed his hand. His smile grew broader.
You sat and drank and talked and joked. At some point you made Astarion try his own creation while you got a sip of his also very delicious mulled wine. He insisted he still preferred savory because he already had that one sweet thing in his life. But you saw him lick his lips after trying the chocolate.
When you had downed your beverage to the last drop, you sighed contentedly while the vampire looked fully pleased with himself.
“Feel better now?”, he asked and put his mug down on the floor. You simply nodded and watched as he leaned over to you.
“Good”, he whispered while he kept leaning in closer still. “But you still have a little something there”, he continued in a deep tone and eyed your already opened lips. You just made a silent “oh” while you expectantly awaited yet another treat from Astarion.
He softly grabbed your chin and closed the distance between you. You closed your eyes, expecting the kiss.
But then the vampire just grossly licked over and around your top lip to get rid of the remaining chocolate there.
You kicked and squealed trying to get him off you and stop torturing you with this gross procedure but he had the upper hand.
And then he had jumped up grabbing both your cups, promising to return with a refill of mulled wine for the both of you while you wiped off your mouth with the back of your hand.
“And you call me ghastly”, you screamed after Astarion but you couldn’t stop the big smile spreading over your face.
From the kitchen you only heard the vampire’s laughter in response.
Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon
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landosjpg · 2 months
Text
tolerate it | ln
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the one where your boyfriend doesn’t love you as you deserve.
lando norris x fem!reader
word count: ~1.1k
warnings: again if you know the song it doesn’t really need any warnings… lando is not the best of boyfriends, minor mentions of (implied) disordered eating and weight loss, does the end count as gaslighting?, angst, angst, angst & more angst
note: part 3 of this blurb series, not proofread!
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you woke up in the middle of the night, the cold winter air enveloping your body and making you shiver. you turned around only to look at the silhoutte of your boyfriend under the dim moonlight that entered the room from the blinds.
you sighed as you pulled the covers up, covering yourself again and looking for some warmth within yourself, not wanting to disturb lando's sleep.
he looked peaceful, the constant furrow of his eyebrows had now disappeared as he snored softly, the sweet image almost making you smile.
but your heart ached instead, knowing that he had unwrapped his arms from your body the second your breath got a little slower and had shifted away from you on the mattress, trying not to wake you up.
you knew it had been like that for quite some time, the nights you used to hold onto each other until the sunrise now long gone.
as you lied there next to him, you felt him miles away from you, noticing how much your relationship had changed in the past months.
your long, cuddling nights filled with giggles had now turned into silent hours in which the only sound that could be heard was the boring movie playing in the background as each of you sat on one corner of the couch.
he never held your hand anymore, just when there were cameras around. the kisses he used to spread all over your face when he came back after a few long weeks away for racing now replaced by a forced smile and a dry kiss on your cheek, followed by a mumbled "i'm tired" as he disappeared into the room.
you weren't really sure what you were doing wrong anymore. why it felt like he didn't love you as he used to.
you were constantly trying to be the best for him, all the time.
you always next to him with the biggest smile on your face, dressed in your best clothes for every event you had to attend by his side.
and when he left for a few weeks, you were always waiting for him to come back, receiving him with a hero's welcome; you used to spend the previous day to his return cleaning the house til every corned glistened, baking his favorite goods and making sure he had everything he could ever need.
you used to throw yourself into his arms when the door opened. and back before everything went wrong, he used to giggle and spin you around, happy to have his girl in his arms again.
now, when he got home after being away, all you got were snarky comments about the dinner you had tried so hard to make to try and make him happy. but it never seemed enough for him.
too cold. too warm. too spicy. not spicy enough.
"cooking was never your strongest point," he used to sigh with a roll of his eyes, pushing the plate away from him.
and you tried to brush his words off with a chuckle. it was just an harmless joke, you told yourself every time.
then he would just get up from the table after a few more passive aggressive comments, to which all you could do was sit still and listen, trying to avoid picking a fight. and then he would lock himself in your shared room, claiming that he needed some alone time.
and every single time, you told yourself he was only tired and stressed as you distracted yourself from the aching pain in your heart with the dishes, spending more minutes than necessary with each of them.
you felt a tear running down your cheek as you lied on your back in bed and reminisced on how beautiful it used to be.
now you would barely talk when he was gone for weeks on the other side of the world; when, at the beginning of your relationship, he used to find five minutes to call in between all his duties.
while he kept going on with his life, you just sat there on your couch waiting for him to return. once, knowing that he would light up the room as soon as he stepped a foot back in your apartment. but you weren't really sure of what you were waiting for at this point.
you had made him your everything, and now you found yourself begging him for the tiniest bit of attention day after day.
you took a deep breath and got up from bed silently, leaving him on his own. walking into the bathroom, the bright light startled you for a second before you looked around you.
a shaky sigh left your lips as you took in your reflection in the mirror. you could barely recognize yourself anymore, your spark now completely gone now. you had been too focused on being perfect for him all those past months, you had stopped taking good care of yourself.
the purple circles around your eyes made you look tired. your skin looked paler than usual; you were carrying in your shoulders all the weight you had lost those past months. a tear rolled down your cheek as you realized.
the worst part of it all is he hadn't noticed; he didn't realize how you had lost yourself trying to make him happy again. he assumed you were fine.
and for a second, the thought of leaving him crossed your mind, breaking free from the walls that had been suffocating you for months. you could just put an end to your pain and set yourself free.
you took a deep breath and wiped your tears with the back of your hand, determined to pack your things while he was unknowingly asleep. you knew you deserved more than that, someone who wouldn't make you feel like a burden.
"what are you doing?" his voice interrupted you, making you freeze on the spot. he didn't sound mad at seeing you gather your things in a small bag, rather just tired.
"did i wake you up?" you whispered, looking at him through the mirror. he was leaning against the door frame, and with a shake of his head he approached you.
you tensed as lando's arms wrapped around your waist, hugging you from behind. he hid his head on the crook of your neck, curls tickling your skin softly as he nuzzled his nose down to your shoulder, where he pressed a tender kiss.
"why don't you come back to bed with me?" his voice was low, a little hoarse. lando’s hand slowly reached for yours and gently put down the bag you were still holding.
he knew what was on your mind, so his lips left a warm kiss on your cheek, silently trying to convince you to stay.
and the sudden surge of affection made you second guess yourself, letting him guide you back to the warmth of your shared bed. maybe you had read it all wrong, perhaps it was all in your head.
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matchavellichor · 9 months
Note
If you’re still taking requests then I have one 😊
Could you please write a scenario where Sebastian goes home for the Christmas holiday to make amends with Anne and Solomon (before shit happens) and he leaves Ominis and Female MC alone. They finally get to spend time alone together for once and find they have a lot more in common than rheu previously thought (they go on walks, study in the library, hang out in the undercroft) and Ominis who already had a secret little crush on her but always thought that Sebastian kinda had a claim on her, starts falling very hard and he finally decides to do something about it. Maybe they’re hanging out in the undercroft one night and he spontaneously kisses her. I would adore if you could take this into NSFW territory, I’d love the awkward yet sensual first-time sex between them if you could (and as much as I love him, please no Dominis, I want the sweet boy we meet in the game) ♥️
A.N: Thank you for this request! I absolutely adored writing this, so precious 🥹 I hope you enjoy! Also thank you to everyone else who sent a request, I'm trying to get through all of them now that I'm on break and have more time 🫶
You Drew Stars
f!MC x Ominis Gaunt - NSFW/Fluff - 5.6k words
Summary: After Sebastian leaves the castle to spend winter break in Feldcroft, Ominis' sentiments for his friend slowly begin to stretch past the bounds of what's platonically appropriate...
Tags: "Un"requited Love, Pining, Miscommunication, Loss of Virginity, First-Times, Friends to Lovers, Supportive Friend Sebastian Sallow
The library was empty as Ominis meandered his way through towards the back shelves, most of the other students having gone home for winter break. To his satisfaction, the few who had stayed didn’t share any habits of curling up with a book an hour before curfew. 
He made his way to the old, royal purple chaise that he usually sat in towards the back corner of the establishment, tucked just behind a shelf on holistic gardening that no one ever frequented. He stilled when he noticed someone already there, the quiet sound of pages turning alerting him of their presence.
“Hey, Ominis,” She glanced up when she heard him approach and eyed the book in his hand curiously. “Some light reading before bed?” 
“Oh, it’s you,” He scratched the back of his neck. “I was, but I think I’ll just head back to—”
“Don’t be silly,” She tucked herself towards one side of the lounge and patted the seat directly beside her. “Come on, there’s plenty of room.”
“It’s fine, really, you were here first—”
She sighed. “Will you just sit down?”
He shifted nervously in his place for a moment before finally coming to some decision and making his way towards her to take a seat. The chaise sat two people comfortably, albeit a bit cramped, their arms brushing every time either of them turned a page. 
She didn’t seem to mind. Unfortunately, he didn’t possess the same level of indifference, a faint flush of pink creeping up his neck from beneath his white Oxford when she crossed her legs and her thighs brushed against his.
After finishing up her chapter, she reached over to tilt the front cover of his book towards her, her curiosity getting the best of her. She was awfully forward, if not borderline rude. He tried to disguise the fact he liked it.
“Brontë?” Her eyebrows shot to her hairline. “Developed a rebellious streak, have you, Ominis?”
“Something like that,” He mused. “Though, I suppose there are better ways to defy my parents.”
“Oh, certainly. If you spent more time with me you’d have a plethora of creative ideas by now,” She grinned. “Not that sneaking around reading Muggle literature isn’t an admirable offense, of course.”
He breathed out a laugh. “You make an enticing offer, I have to admit.”
“What can I say, I’m enticing.”
Overwhelmingly, he thought.
He accompanied her to her dorm room afterwards and tried to wipe the stupid, dreadful smile on his face the entire walk back to his own.
They fell into a simple sort of routine. 
Even though they had already fit into some category of the word friends, it had never been in the same way that she was with Sebastian. The more he got to know her, the more he wondered why he hadn’t done so sooner. She was absolutely brilliant.
He quickly learned she was just as much of a night owl as he was, often walking into the common room to find her already curled up on one of the wingback chairs in front of the fireplace, waiting for him.
She’d lay out a rotating selection of Muggle literature and make him pick one for her to read to him, even if he insisted he could just cast a simple dictation spell or transfigure a copy in braille.
He quickly found his particular favorite was Jane Austen, to which she teased him relentlessly for being a bleeding heart romantic. Gods, she had no idea. 
She introduced him to Mary Shelley, which he enjoyed just as much, although he posited he’d grow to appreciate just about anything as long as it was her reading it to him.
It was over steaming cups of earl gray in the common room and midday walks through the snow-crested forest that his inkling of a crush morphed into something else. Something more.
Feelings, he recognized rather ruefully, one late evening after she’d fallen asleep with her head pillowed on his lap in the common room. 
Twisty, hot, almost nausea-inducing feelings. Overwhelming and nerve-wracking, but at the same time so unbelievably good, and warm, and sweet, because how could he feel anything else with her except pleasantries? 
They were the kind where he found he wanted to do nothing more but stay in the private, simple routine they’d created for themselves, just the two of them. Wanted to keep living in the daydream he’d invented about their relationship, where sometimes she’d hug him goodnight a little too tightly, or sit a little too close, and it’d almost feel like she cared for him the same way he cared for her. Almost.
He ignored the guilty, nagging sensation in his gut about her relationship with Sebastian, and decided he’d let his delusions take him through the remainder of their holiday together. 
//
Stretched out on the plush rug in front of the common room fireplace, he wrapped a hand around her ankle when she went to nudge him with a stockinged foot for the thirtieth time in the last five minutes.
“Quit it,” He didn’t glance up from where his fingers were combing over the braille in his open textbook. “You’re distracting me.”
“You’re not even studying anymore,” She wriggled her foot out of his hold and poked his thigh again in defiance. “You’re a terrible fake-reader, you know. You don’t even make your eyes move across the lines.”
“Hilarious,” He rolled his eyes, finally closing the book on his lap. “And maybe I’ve stopped studying because someone has been prodding me incessantly for the past half-hour.”
“My mental capacity has reached its limit for the night. And I’m starved,” She picked herself up from the floor, rolling her shoulders back in a stretch, before holding a hand out for him to take. “Come on, up. Let’s get something to eat.”
He waved his wand over his wristwatch. “It’s nearly one in the morning, where on earth are we going to get something to eat?” 
Her lips curled into a smirk as she helped him to his feet. “I have my ways.”
He sighed a defeated breath as he let her tug him along. “Yes, I’m aware. I’m afraid that’s precisely my concern.”
//
“Gods, we’re going to be given twin concussions by a kitchen elf any second now. I hear Tilly’s got a particularly strong arm.” The glowing tip of Ominis’ wand cast the dark surroundings of the Hogwarts kitchens in a red hue. “Keep an eye out for any hurtling rolling pins, will you?”
“Will you stop worrying? It’s fine.” She huffed, sticking her head into one of the pantries of the kitchens before popping out a few moments later. “Apple or blueberry?”
“Both?”
She grinned, slipping back inside. “This is why we’re friends.”
“We’re friends? This is news to me.” 
She narrowed her eyes at where he was poised at the doorway. “Keep talking like that and we’ll be enemies soon enough.”
“My biggest nightmare,” He teased. “I certainly would not want to get on your bad side.”
He followed her as she slipped past him out of the pantry with two magically-steaming pies in hand, making her way towards the exit of the kitchens. 
“You’re certainly a lot smarter than Sebastian, then,” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “You know what’s good for you.” 
You’re good for me, he thought.
“Call it self-preservation.”
//
“How about dinner with a view?” She stopped at the bottom stairwell of the Astronomy tower, only pale moonlight and the dim, orange glow of the scattered wall sconces to illuminate the barren hallways they’d been treading through.
He shrugged. “Doesn’t really make a difference to me, all of my dinners are without a view.”
“Oh, look who’s all clever all of a sudden.” She rolled her eyes.
He grinned. “I’ve always been clever. Do keep up.”
She balanced the pie in her hands in one arm and took his hand with the other, beginning the long, meandering ascent to the upper tower platform.
Her fingers laced so nicely with his, as if they’d been carved to mold perfectly with his own. Smaller than his, but warm, and familiar. He reveled in the privilege of getting to touch her so freely, conscious of the fact this comfortableness would most likely end as soon as Sebastian was back from Feldcroft.
They sat cross-legged with their arms draped over the metal railing, tucking into their pies and trading spoonfuls of rich, syrupy goodness. It wasn’t as cold as a normal December night, but he cast periodic warming charms over them anyways and transfigured his jumper into a blanket that turned out only marginally big enough for the both of them.
They ate in comfortable, companionable silence and all that he could think about is how he wished he could do this always. In the summer, in the spring, in the fall. That this wasn’t something temporary, something that would be robbed from him in a few short weeks.
“Didn’t realize you were such a messy eater, Ominis.” She glanced up at him, an amused smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “Where’s all that pureblood dining etiquette gone to?” 
He rolled his eyes and went to feel around for a napkin, but she leaned forward instead. He sucked in a sharp breath as she braced a hand on his thigh and swiped her thumb over the side of his mouth, collecting remnants of blueberry jam, brushing over his bottom lip in a moment that seemed to stretch for an eternity, though in reality was brief and fleeting. 
She sat back down in her seat, unphased, and popped the digit in her mouth, bottom teeth scraping over the pad of her thumb, sugar melting on her tongue. 
His mouth felt terribly dry.
He swallowed down the sensation of longing with a spoonful of apple filling and flaky, golden crust.
Bellies full with ungodly amounts of pie, they laid beside each other on the too-small blanket, and Ominis tried to ignore the too-loud sound of his blood rushing in his ears, paired with the too-fast beating of his heart in his chest, and attempted to simply relax. 
He closed his eyes and focused on something other than the consuming feeling of want prickling over his skin, setting his nerve-endings alight with the desire to touch and hold and caress. She wasn’t his to do any of those things with. 
He focused on her soft, steady breathing. The rise and fall of her chest beside his. 
“Merlin, it’s beautiful.” She murmured, a dazed quality to her voice.
“I’m sure it is.” He replied just as listless, though undoubtedly for other reasons.
She turned her head to face him. “Want me to describe it to you?” 
He turned to face her as well and he was suddenly acutely aware of the feeling of her breath ghosting his cheek. She was so close. His voice was quiet. “Would you?”
She nodded. “Alright, close your eyes.” 
He bit back a smile. “You’re such an idiot.” 
She grinned. “Shut up and do it.” 
He obliged with a disgruntled huff. Pleased, she turned back towards the scenery. 
“It’s a full moon tonight, so everything has this almost…silver glow. Like the whole world’s been dipped in platinum.” She began. 
He tried to picture it in his head, sheens of pale white cast over rolling hills and thick forest.
“You can see the entire lake from up here, never-ending and inky black, and juuust there, past the border of the forest—” She outstretched a hand. “—is Hogsmeade, with its little orange lights.”
She glanced sideways at him to see his eyes still closed, the softest smile brushing his lips. 
She continued, “What’s really pretty though, is the stars. Too many to ever count. Enough to make your head dizzy, really.” She let out a laugh and he decided it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. 
“Some are brighter than others, and you can make out little pictures in the night sky. Tonight, there’s Orion looking down on us,” She tilted her head, brows knitting together as she took a moment to study him. “Actually…”
He let out a startled breath when he felt her fingertips make contact with his cheek, dragging over his skin in feather-light touches, tracing the small smattering of beauty marks there.
“You bear a remarking similarity,” She ran her index softly between the points, connecting little invisible lines. “Right here.” 
He swallowed hard. “Do I?”
“Mhm,” She hummed. “It’s awfully pretty.”
She hadn’t pulled her hand back. His skin buzzed with the sensation, because her fingertips were still there, on his cheek, touching him with a softness that he had never known before in his life, with a kindness that he was so unaccustomed to.
Gentle, repetitive drags, skin-on-skin, that same prickling sensation of want having grown into something almost painful inside of him. Bubbling and overwhelming, just underneath his flesh, his fingers twitching with the desire to reach out and feel.
He was conscious of how stupid it was, mind-numbingly so, but he couldn’t bear the aching tension in his chest any longer, and he knew of only one way to acquiesce his restless heart.
He cupped her own cheek in his hand, dipped his chin forward, and captured her lips in his.
Her fingers froze against his cheek, and he could feel the slight surprise in her body language, before it quickly morphed into something else, something accepting, something satisfied. As if she’d been longing just as desperately, had been waiting for this the same way he’d been.
Her hand dragged down to thread through the fine, blonde hairs at the nape of his neck, tugging him closer to her, eliciting a sharp intake of air through his nose, settling all kinds of feelings deep behind his navel.
She parted her lips for him and he chased the syrupy taste of sugar on her tongue like he needed it to live, swallowed her quiet, breathy pants like mouthfuls of honey, sticky and saccharine and so overwhelmingly her he could drown in it. 
She was so sweet, so soft, and far, far too perfect for his fantasies to have ever possibly done her justice.
When she finally broke away, he could feel her drowsy, sapless smile against his lips. He smiled back, just as giddy, an absolute fool, surely, but in the moment he couldn’t care less. He resisted the urge to dive back in. To run his tongue over her teeth and plead for more, because he knew he would most likely never get enough. 
He was content then, just holding her. She tucked herself into his side, pillowed her head on his chest, and let him run his hands up and down her back. Let him bury his nose in the crown of her hair and revel in the feeling of having her there, feeling too much like his.
//
After that, their routine shifted into something else. Something unspoken, that didn’t really need any labels or clarifications, because it all fell into place like pieces of a puzzle. Normal and simple and easy and natural.
Because, of course he got to kiss her goodnight when he left her at her dorm room every evening. And it was only obvious that they’d lace their fingers together on their Sunday trips to Hogsmeade for a butterbeer, and sit on the same side of the booth instead of opposite each other like before. And why would she not drape her legs over his lap on that purple chaise in the library, or tuck herself into his side on that dusty, old loveseat in the Undercroft?
He wasn’t sure what he’d done to ever get so lucky, but he thanked Fortune herself every night he got to collect her in his arms and press lingering kisses to her forehead. It was an intoxicating feeling to have everything he wanted right there in his hands, soft and pliable and willing, so perfectly receptive to his touch, so eager to reciprocate with the same amount of fevered passion and affection.
Of course, there were levels of uncertainties to their relationship still. Questions he couldn’t bring himself to ask, out of fear of ruining everything. What are we and and for the love of Circe, tell me this means something to you, too poised on the tip of his tongue everytime she wrapped herself around him and buried her face in the crook of his neck.
There were boundaries, admittedly maybe only fictitious ones his own anxious brain fabricated, but ones nonetheless. He’d always ask her first before he kissed her, and she’d always respond with eager nods, blissful smiles, and her fingers curling into the front of his shirt to tug his mouth down to hers.
He adored kissing her.  Maybe a bit too much. Alright, maybe alarmingly too much.
He’d spend eternity with his mouth on hers if he could, and it still wouldn’t be enough. He constantly craved the numb, bruised feeling of his lips after a particularly long makeout session. He couldn’t get enough of touching her, of being so intimate with her, of the soft and sweet and spit-sticky brushes of her tongue against his, of that aching, heated swirl he got just behind his navel. 
She was bliss personified. 
Crossing a leg over the other on that worn, tawny loveseat in the Undercroft, he skimmed through the pages of the paperback in his hand with his wand. A few feet away from him, she was reducing a couple training dummies into splinters of charred wood, spell after spell rolling off her tongue with ease. 
His headstrong little witch. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips at how powerful she was, admiration swelling in his chest.
After getting her fix of dueling for the day and craving attention, she made her way over to him, sitting beside him, although more accurately, practically sitting on top of him. Not that he minded.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she looked up at him expectantly, and because he’d give her absolutely anything her little heart desired, he tucked his book away immediately and turned his focus towards her, pecking a kiss to her cheek. She smiled in satisfaction. 
He had the tiniest inkling of a feeling that maybe he was spoiling her rotten. Not that he minded that, either. 
“Tired?” 
She shook her head. “Just missed you.”
He brushed the back of his knuckles against her cheek and couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his mouth. “Did you now?”
She nodded, staring down at his lips as she leaned in to press her mouth against his. Simple and natural and easy. It was a wonder how normal it seemed, as if it was something they’d always done. 
Her tongue brushed against his bottom lip, pleading for entrance, and of course he obliged, because who was he to deny her anything?
He could feel the little exhale of breath against his cheek as his tongue met hers, feel the way she instinctively pressed more against him as if she wanted to mold herself to his very bones.
He loved having her like this. 
Eager and passion-filled, her magic thrumming in her veins with a little added intensity, reflected in the way she kissed him, in the way she touched him. 
She broke away for air, but he couldn’t help the desire to have more. He trailed wet, open-mouthed kisses over her jaw, down the length of her neck. He’d never kissed her there and he found himself particularly interested in exploring. She positively melted under his ministrations.
“Ominis,” She sighed his name on a breathy pant and the sound coursed straight to his groin, tugging at that aching desire in his gut, that heated, twisty, starved feeling that was always there when he touched her, lingering someone hidden, nursing it into something insatiable. 
She reconnected her mouth to his and stoked that flickering flame inside him until it was red-hot and all-consuming. 
He tangled his fingers through her hair and explored her mouth with a deliberate slowness. Languid, syrupy drags of his tongue against hers. Hot, needy breaths shared in a space between them that was far too little and far too much at the same time. 
A gasp died on his tongue when she shifted in her seat to press herself even more against him, effectively straddling his lap, impatience dripping down her spine. He went rigid.
“Hold on, don’t—” His fingers dug into her waist to still her, but she had already dragged her hips flush against his, right against that aching stiffness in his trousers. His face blanched, mortified. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
She held her bottom lip between her teeth, processing the feeling of him, a very specific part of him, pressed right to the gusset of her knickers, right under her skirt. It was like someone had stricken a match, lit her nerves on fire.
She shook her head, her cheeks hot. “Don’t apologize,” She smoothed her thumb over his cheek, reassuring. “I want you, too. I want this.” She shifted minutely, tentative, right against that throbbing part of him.
His brows knit together, looking almost pained. “Gods, you can’t say things like that.” 
“It’s true,” She whispered, shifting against him again, deliciously slow. The slightest roll of her hips. It was enough to ruin him completely. “Please, Ominis.”
He nodded then, forehead pressed against hers, fists white-knuckled in the starched linen of her shirt. He let his hands fall to his sides, onto the tattered pillows of the loveseat and sighed. 
“Not here.” He planted a kiss on the corner of her mouth. “You deserve something nicer.”
//
Ominis’ dorm was certainly nicer.
Clean and tidy to the point of almost being manic, just as she imagined it would be. She glanced over at the surrounding beds and noticed his side strikingly bare in comparison, devoid of the clutter of Quidditch posters, junk and other memorabilia that you would normally expect to find in a teenage boy’s room. 
His sheets were crisp and neatly-pressed, and laid back against his pillows, she could pick up the faint smell of vanilla and bergamot and, most strikingly, him.
He hovered over her there, his hands on either side of her head on the pillowcase, a pink flush dusting his cheekbones, uncertain. She found it awfully endearing. 
“Have you ever…?”
He shook his head, sheepish. “No.” 
She nodded. 
A gnawing feeling clawed itself inside his chest, something marred and ugly and possessive, a jealousy he knew he probably had no right to feel. “Have…you?”
She shook her head. “Never.”
His brows furrowed, confusion and surprise and a faint sense of relief etched into his features. “Really? You and Sebastian never…?”
She sputtered. “Me and Sebastian?”
“Er…yes? I assumed you two had already been—”
“Dear gods, no,” She laughed, as if the mere notion were hysterical. She looked at him bewildered. “Where on earth did you ever get that impression?” 
“I don’t know, you’re both always spending so much time together.” 
“As friends.” She choked. “If I’m being completely honest, I’ve always harbored a bit of a crush on you.” 
It was his turn to sputter. “On me?”
She smiled. “Yes, it’s a bit embarrassing, actually. I’m surprised Sebastian’s never told you. He’s tormented me about it since the moment he found out.” 
Ominis winced and let his head fall forward, voice muffled in the collar of her shirt. “Gods, I’ve been such an idiot.” 
“Well, that’s only natural,” She teased, raking her nails softly through the hair on his nape. “Don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you.” 
He picked his head up. “So, I…we could’ve been doing this, so much sooner?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Been wanting to get into my pants for very long, have you, Ominis?”
He groaned. “That’s not what I meant,” She watched as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth, embarrassment tinging his cheeks. “I’ve liked you for quite a while.”
“Have you?” She grinned. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” He murmured. “A bit of pining was good for me. Humbling.” 
She tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “Yes, I’m sure you’re not very used to not getting what you want, hm?”
“Mmh,” He hummed, non-committal, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Terribly spoiled, I’m afraid.”
“I won’t hold that against you, either.”
She laced her fingers behind his neck, tugging him forward to bring his lips down to hers again. Ominis could barely contain the euphoric feeling of relief in his chest, of completion, of blissful satisfaction in knowing the witch underneath him was his and only his. 
He let his hands wander, explore, caress, tugging her blouse out of the waistband of her skirt and running his hands over the creamy smooth expanse of her stomach. He let his lips roam with just as much fervor, trailing down the length of her neck, scraping biting kisses over her collarbone, over the soft curves of her jaw.
“Take this off me,” She pleaded in between kisses, breathless, and he would be a fool if he didn’t immediately oblige. Slender, deft fingers turned clumsy and unpracticed in the heat of the moment, fumbling over buttons and the zipper of her skirt with a lot more lack of finesse than he was used to doing most things in life. His heart was pounding too loud in his ears for him to care. 
If she was anything she was impatient, and he quickly learned this impatience would be the very bane of his existence, as she proceeded to grind her hips up to meet his every time he tried to pause and regain some level of composure. 
She seemed to take a form of sick gratification in the way he’d curse under his breath at the feeling of the soaked fabric of her knickers, rubbing back and forth against that stiff, aching part of him, nearly bringing him to completion.
He crawled down her body before she could torture him any longer, hooking his fingers into the hem of her knickers and tugging it down to pool at her ankles. He left a trail of wet, open-mouth kisses in his descent, dragging his tongue down the line of her sternum, slow and deliberate. 
She tensed. “You don’t have to—”
“Please,” He nosed at the soft curve of her stomach, his breath warm against her skin, eyes half-lidded behind blonde eyelashes. “I want to. Please let me.”
Her voice was quiet, anticipated. “Okay.”
It was all he needed to kiss her there, lips pressed to her dripping core, sucking just slightly, tentatively, just enough to make her gasp. His tongue was velvety smooth, purposefully slow, as if savoring it, savoring her.
“Tastes good,” He murmured against her cunt in a hum, lips sticky and glistening, voice hoarse and gravely with want. “Tastes s’good. Mmh.”
She couldn’t stifle her moans as he lapped at her firmer then, more focused, dragged the tip of his tongue and swirled it around that sensitive little bundle of nerves he had already deduced made her hips writhe and her hands tangle in his hair, pulling, pleading.
He didn’t know exactly what he was doing, but Ominis prided himself on being a very intuitive learner — and there was no better lesson than her nails raking over his scalp and her mewls muffled against the back of her hand every time he evidently did something  right with his tongue. In this more than anything, he was determined to get all O’s. 
“Oh, gods, Ominis,” She breathed out, and that was all it took for him to break, for him to push two fingers inside her cunt, wrap his lips around her clit, and suck. Hard, until her toes curled at either side of his hips on the bedding, and her head was thrown back onto the pillows, and she was repeating please, please, please like a prayer — as if she’d ever have to beg him for anything.
He pulled her over the edge with a groan against her cunt, fingers pressing into that little spot on her walls that made her vision white over with stars, melting her muscles into a puddle of ecstasy. Coaxed her through it, lapping at the wetness until she was reduced to shudders and breathy, shaky pants.
“You’re so beautiful,” He climbed over her, chest heaving, pressing kisses to her cheeks. He rambled praises, utterly sapless, euphoric, and if she didn’t know any better she’d think he was coming down from the high of his own orgasm with how giddy he sounded. “Oh my gods, you’re so unbelievably perfect. Sounded so good — tasted so good, fuck. You’re just—”
She kissed him then, not minding that she could taste herself on his tongue. Slow and sweet, her head dizzy with endorphins. He liked her like this.
Reaching down between them, she ran her hand down the placket of his briefs, palmed the evidence of his arousal, reveled in the way his lips faltered against hers. She dipped her fingers past the elastic of his waistband, and the whimper he let out when she finally wrapped her hand around him was nothing short of depraved.
“Want to be inside of you,” He pleaded, his hips rutting of their own accord against her palm, warm and slick with desire, a sticky bead of pre-cum pooling at the tip. He felt so thick in her hand. “Please, want— want it so bad.”
He couldn’t bear the restriction any longer, tugging his shorts down his thighs, exposing alabaster skin and flushed pink and so much of him she couldn’t pull her eyes away.
He notched himself at her entrance, lips hovering over hers, asking for permission without words, and all she could do was fervently nod to keep herself from begging.
He laced his fingers with hers as he slowly pushed in, gasps shared between their lips, foreheads pressed together. She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him closer, urging him for more.
His voice was wrecked when he spoke. “Is this — am I hurting you? Is this alright?”
She shook her head. “You’re perfect —you feel so perfect.”
He groaned, surging forward to capture her lips in his, pouring every ounce of devotion and adoration into the way his tongue brushed against hers, as he slowly rocked his hips, in and out, cautious, shallow thrusts. 
“Please, more,” She whispered, quiet, needy, and he couldn’t help but oblige. He bottomed out inside of her, his head falling to her shoulder, and eased his hips back to meet hers with a sharp thrust. 
She was overwhelmed by the novel and absolutely foreign feeling of being so full. That dull sting where he was stretching her out around him, that pleasurable ache where he was pressing up into her walls — it was all revoltingly delicious. She never wanted it to stop. 
“Christ, you’re — fuck,”  Her fingers wrapped around his bicep for support, nails digging little crescent-shaped marks into his skin. “You’re so deep—oh my gods, please move, please, please move,”
He was half-convinced he’d cut out his own beating heart in that moment and present it to her if she asked. He braced himself with his fingers splayed warm and broad on her hip, holding maybe a bit too tightly, and fucked into her with steady, deep thrusts, her legs wrapped around his waist.
“Yes, yes, yes,” She gasped, his cock pressing deep into that sensitive spot inside of her. She could feel that winding knot behind her navel being pulled taut,  being stretched tighter and tighter until she felt like she might break. “Like that, just like that — fuck, please don’t stop, please don’t stop,” 
Ominis had by no means a dirty mouth, was never, ever crass by an definition of the word, but hearing her pleading in his ear, feeling her squeeze so tightly around him, slick and warm and utterly divine — he couldn’t stop the endless litany spilling from his mouth, delirious from how good she felt as he thrust into her thoroughly, his self-restraint slipping out of him like grains of sand through open fingers.
“You’re so perfect. My angel, oh my gods, all mine. Mine, mine, mine. Gorgeous, so gorgeous, you’re so tight, so tight around me. Fuck, I can’t stop, I can’t — I need —I need you, I love this, I love this so much, fuck, fuck, fuck, I love this, I love—”
His words died on a strangled moan as he finished inside of her, pumping into her until he pulled her over the edge along with him, electrifying her nerve-endings into bliss. He pressed his lips to hers like he needed her to breathe, like the only oxygen he desired was the ones she would give him from her very own lungs.
She spoke first, dazed. “That was—”
He let out a laugh, soft and pleasure-rough, the slightest bit drowsy. “Amazing. Brilliant. You’re absolutely brilliant.” 
She returned his gleaming smile with her own, teasing.
“You’ve only just noticed?”
//
It took one look. The raucous bustle of other students still disembarking around him, yet his attention was trained on his two friends smiling and waiting up for him. 
His eyes darted between the two, briefly combing over the faint bites of purple on her neck that was peeking out just slightly from beneath the green and silver of her scarf, then finally dipped to where their hands were surreptitiously clasped behind layers of cloaks, and he immediately knew.
Sebastian dropped his suitcase on the weathered boards of the dock with a thunk and ran up to clap his hands on his friends’ shoulders with a sly smile and a satisfied glint in his eyes.
“Fucking took you two long enough.”
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leahsgirl · 3 months
Note
Hiii! Can you please do an angst with a happy ending for Alessia Russo x reader? Like r doesn't think something is big of a deal but for Alessia it is and they argue and r is in the doghouse but can you please make it a happy ending?
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spin the bottle | alessia russo x reader
based after the england vs scotland game for the olympics qualifiers, let’s imagine leah wasn’t still injured 🤗
You didn’t win. Despite the six goals your team scored. Your hopes of heading to the olympics and playing for your country was out the window.
In light of this event, you and the squad decided to deal with the loss in what felt like the most appropriate way; get ‘pissed out your head’ drunk. Deciding to head back to Beth’s who had the biggest place.
You and Alessia made it back to your own place first of course, deciding to change out of the outfit you was wearing that screamed ‘homeless’. “Hurry up, we’re going to be late man.” shouting down the hallway as you waited for your girlfriend to finish up doing god knows what - the perks of dating a femme!
“I’m coming, i’m coming.” She turned the corner, raking a comb through her blonde locks. “Without me? you wound me Russo.” Taking notice of your crude comment, she slapped your arm while you just stayed smirking.
“What time do you call this?” Stanway was the one to answer the door when you arrived at Beth and Viv’s, you wondered how those two were coping with one of them qualifying and one just missing out.
“Blame miss ‘my hair doesn’t look right’ over here.” Nudging Alessia’s side as you remember how you watched her curse herself in the mirror for her hair not ‘staying in the right place’ a good twenty minutes before.
With being the last ones to arrive, and the get together in full swing, everyone was already in conversation with one another. Alessia offered to get you a drink which you took up as you threw yourself onto the sofa where your fellow man united teammates ella and millie sat. “Jesus christ y/n, watch the glass.” tooney shouted as you nearly spilled her vodka all over her outfit.
“My bad. What are we talking about over here anyways?” Millie proceeded to sift through her camera roll before passing you her phone, showing a picture of a hotel somewhere abroad. “Was just telling tooney here where i’m going over winter break, nice isn’t it?” Zooming in on the picture you nodded and passed the phone back. “Where is it you’re going?” Alessia having come back and handing you a beer which you take a swig of. “Croatia.”
“right whoever wants to play beer pong come on up!” Stanway was now stood on a barstool, projecting her voice through the open-plan space. How she hadn’t fallen off it you didn’t know, considering it was wobbling like mad and the brunette wasn’t completely sober at this point.
“Fancy a game?” Turning your attention to the blonde sat in your lap and watched as she nodded. you was split into two teams of four. One team consisted of you, lucy, chloe and niamh while the other was alessia, leah, lotte and beth. “oh my god, of course the arsenal clan makes up a group.” You scoffed as you saw the group line up behind one another. “Afraid you’ll lose y/n?” the england captain smirked while you dismissed her.
Leah went first, bouncing the ping-pong ball on the table for it to land in the middle cup. “Lucky shot Williamson.” You said as you pick up the drink, it was some sort of brown colour which you only assume had been a result of multiple liquids mixed together. Knocking it back down your throat your suspicions were confirmed as the taste practically made you gip.
Taking your turn, you threw the ball and watched it bounce into the far left cup. “Get in!” High-fiving Lucy making your way to the back of the line as the skipper drank the cup’s contents.
After multiple turns, your team now had one cup to take down while the other team had three. Niamh was the lucky lady who got to throw the ball, taking on none other than your girlfriend. She landed it directly in the plastic cup, your team now celebrating the win.
As the night continued so did the alcohol consumption. You could confidently say everyone in the house was at least a little tipsy. It was fun seeing everyone’s drunken personality come out. You had Lucy, Lauren j, Georgia and Rachel claiming the ‘irresponsible drunks’ title. Leah, Alessia, and Chloe the affectionate drunks. Beth, Kiera and Alex fulfilling the ‘wistful’ drunk stage, being reminiscent on their memories. You found yourself in the ‘happy drunk’ category along with the rest of the gang.
“Shit.” You say as you stumble, causing a half full beer bottle to topple over, spilling onto the wooden floor. As you looked for something to clean it with, rachel took notice and smirked. “you know what this calls for? SPIN THE BOTTLE!” With everyone in their buzzed state they didn’t oppose when daly started manoeuvring them into the lounge urging them to take a seat on the ground.
“Is this normal spin the bottle or PG version?” Keira asked which again lead to another wicked smirk form on daly’s lips. “How about every three goes there has to be a kiss.” There didn’t seem to be that much disagreement on the idea and so went ahead with it.
Daly went first off course, suspiciously landing on her bff Millie in which she dared her to down six shots of tequila one after the other. Somehow the girl managed it and props to her because you could hardly muster a single tequila shot.
The game was getting more intriguing with each turn. James took control of Charles’ instagram - posting something embarrassing onto her story, Zelem gave a quick peck to Kiera which got some wolf-whistles, Chloe had to draw something explicit onto Alex’s forehead and so on.
It was Leah’s turn next and she also so happened to the third person, meaning whoever the bottle stopped on was the lucky lady. Watching as she spun it harshly and did multiple rotations around the room, you noticed the bottle starting to slow down as it made its way to your side of the room.
“Well aren’t you the lucky one y/l/n.” The blonde said as she crawled over to you. “Bold statement Williamson, I think you’ll find it’s the other way around.” She rolled her eyes playfully before placing her hand on your neck, raking you in closer. Soft lips met your own in what was a tender kiss. The centre-back didn’t stop there though; she proceeded by tugging on your bottom lip and swiping her tongue across it. You parted your mouth which allowed the blonde to take advantage by snaking her tongue inside. You didn’t know if it was your drunken state, or the simple fact that the blonde locks in front of your face was reminding you of a certain someone, but you’d be lying if you said you wasn’t getting at least the tiniest bit turned on.
Pulling away, Leah moved back to her original spot. A shocked silence fell over the group which you thought was strange. Well, you did at first - until you saw your girlfriend get up and walk out the room with no warning.
You took your queue to follow her and called out after her. She had gone and grabbed her coat and walked out the door, shutting it in your face.
“Less? Where are you going?” You scurried to catch up with her while at the same time hopping trying to put your trainers back on your feet. “I’m going home y/n, i’ll order an uber just please leave me alone.”
“You’re seriously not mad about the kiss are you?”
Alessia let out an exasperated sigh. “You tell me y/n, maybe i’ll go and make out with one of our teammates and see how it makes you feel.” She wasn’t even looking at you while saying all this, instead typing something out on her phone.
“Oh come on, we wasn’t making out. You’re being ridiculous.” Alessia wasn’t the only one annoyed now. You was simply playing the game and just so happened to be the person the bottle stopped on, you didn’t get what the big deal was.
“Y/n you had your tongues down each other’s throats, it was more than ‘just a peck’. Last time I checked Leah isn’t your girlfriend - I am.” It was clear the forward was getting emotional with the tiny but noticeable cracks in her voice.
“Yeah exactly; i’m your girlfriend, so I don’t see what the big fuss is about. I’m not about to run off into the sunset with Williamson.” Speaking of the devil, Leah and Keira come outside and walked towards you. “Everything okay out here?”
“Just dandy! Leah can you please tell Alessia over here that our kiss didn’t mean anything.” As if realisation just sunk in Leah raised her eyebrows, “Shit sorry Less, I didn’t even think about you and y/n - but I can promise the kiss was only in fun.”
Alessia gave a halfhearted smile. “It’s okay Lee, i’m not mad at you. You are single after all.” Now turning back and glaring at you. “So you’re mad at me and not Leah? fucking hell Less I don’t know what you want from me.” Holding your hands up in the air incredulously. Kiera nudged your side clearly wanting this ordeal to be over with “Just apologise to her y/n.”
“Apologise for what?! playing the game? following the rules? She’s acting like i’ve committed a crime for pete’s sake!”
“You’re insufferable sometimes y/n, you really are. Don’t bother coming home tonight.” As if on cue, a white toyota prius came rolling up outside the house, the blonde getting into the back seat. Watching as it made a u-turn and drive off, you felt a hand on your shoulder. “Come on y/n, you can crash at mine for the night and find a way to get back into her good books.” the barcelona player offered.
You nodded and re-entered the house just to gather your belongings and say bye to everyone. It’s safe to say you found it hard to fall asleep without the warm presence next to you that you’ve become accustomed to over the last year. The alcohol effects had started to wear off and you replayed the events from earlier in your head.
Looking back you could see how you may of overreacted and got defensive a little too quick. ‘Why am I such a dickhead’ You grabbed your phone and debated texting the hurt girl but chickened out, figuring you’re the last person she wants to hear from at this very moment.
You figured the best plan of action was to wake up early and talk to Alessia and hope it will resolve the issue, shutting your eyes trying to fall into a slumber.
Making your way out the apartment at around 9am after saying thanks to Kiera you headed to the local corner shop deciding to buy your girlfriend’s favourite chocolate and get her a bouquet of flowers. While you knew gifts shouldn’t exactly be used as a way to excuse your behaviour, you gathered it couldn’t make things any worse than what they were.
Lucky for you, Kiera’s apartment wasn’t far from yours, only a twenty minute walk or so which you was grateful for because winter mornings in england weren’t exactly the warmest. Knocking on the door you wait for it to be opened. The younger girl answered and looked you up and down before reluctantly moving to the side so you could slide in.
“Hey.” You’re the first one to speak as Alessia heads into the lounge. She was wearing her favourite pair of grey sweatpants and a navy blue crew neck t-shirt, not to mention her blue slippers that had smiley faces embroidered onto them. Damn did she look good you thought but best not to say out loud given your current circumstances.
“So I had a think over how I reacted last night and I can see how I was in the wrong and just wanted to apologise.” You pulled out the chocolate and flowers that was hiding behind your back “-And I know it’s no consolation but I got you these.” Alessia took them from you and placed them down on the coffee table.
“It’s okay y/n, I had a think last night too and guess I overreacted to the whole kiss situation.” Scooting closer to her, you take her hands. “No Less; your feelings were totally valid and I completely ignored them. You’re right, I’m your partner - I shouldn’t be kissing other people, even if it is just for a game.”
The blonde sighed, “I guess I just felt a little threatened by Leah after seeing you two kiss.” You was now confused. “Threatened?”
“Oh come on y/n, youse two are always bantering and playfully flirting, not to mention in training the both of you are always laughing together about something. I even thought you were dating when I first met you both.” The mention of this made you feel bad, never did you intend to make Alessia feel like this. While you and Leah may be overly close, you’d never date one another.
“Babe, if there’s any woman out there for me; it’s you. Clearly i’ve not been a very good girlfriend if i’ve made you feel insecure in our relationship, i’m sorry.”
You offered your arms out and waited for Alessia to give into the hug. She slid under your arm and rested her head on your chest. “Are we okay?” You asked now stroking your hand through her golden locks. “We’re okay.” She confirmed.
Breathing a sigh of relief you leant down and kissed her head. “Good. Being in Alessia Russo’s doghouse was not fun.”
It’s not everyday someone like you ends up with a girl like Alessia and clearly you took it for granted. As you sat there in contentment, you vowed to yourself to never let something stupid get in the way of your relationship again.
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royalsweetteaa · 2 months
Text
Never too much, never too little
Pairing: Winter soldier/Bucky Barnes x reader
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WARNING - The following fic contains: Angst/Fluff, winter soldier!Bucky, memory loss, kissing, caressing, comfort, mentioned past abuse & violence, mentions of past SA towards Bucky, trauma healing, reader refers to Bucky as ‘Winter’.
Summary: You take responsibility in taking care of the winter soldier after being the first to snap him out of HYDRAs control.
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You had woken up in the middle of the early morning as you felt a tall, lurking presence in your room.
It wasn’t the first time he had done this since the day you helped him snap out of his winter soldier self.
That day, he was on the mission of capturing you, the one who the whistleblower within HYDRA had reached out to, warning about the winter soldier and the super soldier program in Syberia. You were a journalist, and the person who had reached out was someone you were familiar with.
Although you wouldn’t call them a friend, especially after the danger they would put you through as your identity got leaked.
You were expecting him to come after you sooner or later. And he did.
As the Winter Soldier had broken into your room and was about to take you, you thought of what you had read upon from the Whistleblower’s documents, and you got his attention when you said you knew all about what they had done to him. He stood there, trying to stay resistant and cold as you told him you knew he didn’t want to do this. That you knew he was forced to, and that he didn’t have to keep up with it anymore as you would help him.
Still, he stuck to orders as he turned angry and frustrated, and he gripped your arm as he told you ‘you don’t know what you’re talking about’.
Although, it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself that you didn’t.
As he held your arm tightly and was about to pull you out to his vehicle, you wrapped both of your arms and hugged him. He was shocked to say the least, not sure what to do. He pushed you off harshly as he threatened to kill you if you didn’t comply to him, but you went right back and wrapped your arms around him as you kept talking and pleading.
“You don’t have to suffer anymore or take abuse. What you have done this far isn’t your fault. I know what they did to you. Just let me help you. I can get you out of this, I promise. Let’s get out of this together. Please!”
It seemed like he had really tried to resist as he kept his hand on his gun, but his arm was trembling. As you saw that, you gained the tiniest bit of hope that you weren’t going to die today.
Miraculously it worked. The Winter soldier was brought down on his knees, his body becoming heavy as he slouched against you, allowing himself to let you embrace him. You didn’t stop as you kept whispering reassurances that you would help him be free from them. Free from whatever control they had in him, both physically and mentally.
And that is how you found yourselves in a cabin you had inherited, far within the woods of the mountains. Weeks had gone by as you had kept to yourselves far away from society. HYDRA was as much after you as their lost super soldier, and therefore you depended on bringing in supplies from the forest. It proved to be easy with an assassin who knew to hit his targets efficiently, regardless if it was a person or animal.
While you were working on figuring out how you could spread the classified information without compromise, you tended to the former winter soldier.
You didn’t know his name, and neither did he as he suffered memory loss from the countless wiping HYDRA performed on him. Therefore, you settled on a nickname for now: ‘Winter.’
Out of all their troubles, the early mornings turned out to be the hardest things to deal with. Because as the former winter soldier would stay alone in his room all night, trying to sleep through his terrible nightmares, his habits from HYDRAs brainwashing would return mildly.
That was why as you had woken up feeling that same lingering presence, you were not surprised to see the man standing there, staring at you as if he was on guard.
“What are you doing?” You ask.
His eyes narrow slightly as he considers your question. He shrugs as he replies, “Waiting for you to wake up,” as his voice remained emotionless.
That would be one of the first signs.
“Alright….how did you sleep?” You ask him as you remain calm.
He tilts his head slightly, analyzing your question. “As well as can be expected.” His tone remains flat, unrevealing anything about his thoughts or feelings. “You?” he asks, his gaze fixed on some distant point behind you.
You nod slightly as you answer, “I slept just fine.” You chew the inside of your cheek as you decide to test him, now unsure where his state of mind was. “want to come closer for a second?”
His eyes narrow even more. “Why?” his voice is now cold and unyielding, betraying no emotion whatsoever.
So it was as you thought … no different than some of the previous mornings.
“Because I want to give you a morning hug.” I decide to pull a welcoming smile at him as I pat the empty spot beside me on the bed. “Remember when I told you yesterday that it could be a good exercise to keep some consistency in your memory?”
He hesitates for a moment before slowly walking over to you. When he's close enough, he stops and looks at you warily. “A hug.” He says, as if it’s an unfamiliar concept to him.
You frown as you realize you’re loosing him again. “I gave you one yesterday, didn’t I? You said it felt nice.”
His expression remains unchanged as he stares at you. It looks like he’s not sure how to react, or even if he should. “I don't recall.”
You take a deep breath as you realize you need to take it from beginning. “Winter…do you remember why you’re here?”
He tilts his head slightly, the movement almost robotic. “I am here to carry out orders. To serve those who control me.” His gaze remains focused on you, but there's no sign of recognition or comprehension in his eyes.
You refrain from exhaling out of frustration as you don’t want to come off as someone who lacks patience. Especially when he’s like this. “no, that’s not it…Winter, listen to me.” You stand up and approach him carefully as you caress his face with sorrow in your eyes. “You don’t have to take orders from anyone anymore. Don’t let them control you. You’re here, with me. You’re safe,…just…please…” you plead with your voice, hoping he will snap out of it again soon enough.
His cold gaze softens slightly as he looks at you, seeming to process your words. For a moment, a flicker of emotion surfaces within his eyes before quickly disappearing. “I will not disobey.” He replies sternly as he moves his gaze to the side.
You don’t give up that easily as you caress his face tenderly. “look at me..what is my name?”
He hesitates for a moment, his mind struggling to recall that information. “I...I don't remember.”
“Yes you do, Winter…go on, say it. I know you can.” You don’t stop caressing his cheek as it seems to soothe his glare, turning into a look of vulnerability.
His face twitches just then, a sign of internal conflict as he struggles to obey his programming. After a few seconds, he finally speaks, “Your name is... Y/N.”
You smile gleefully as he finally recalls, “that’s right…you’re with me, in this cabin…where we are safe. you don’t have to follow orders anymore…you’re okay…” you hold around him tightly as you keep whispering reassurances.
The super soldier’s muscles tense under your touch, but he doesn't resist. “Y/N... It feels strange not following orders.” His voice is barely above a whisper, revealing just how unfamiliar this feeling of freedom is for him.
“I know…” you murmur with understanding, “I know it’s hard for you to fight it but we will keep working on it, alright?” I pull away to look at him as I ask, “you remember now how you got here, right?”
He nods slowly, still unsure of himself. “Yes…”
“how did we meet?” You ask him to test his memory once again.
He frowns slightly, trying to recall the details of their encounter. “We met during my mission... I was sent to capture you, but something happened. I couldn't bring myself to do it.”
You nod encouragingly “that’s right…that’s exactly how it went…” you then proceed to rub his back soothingly as you continue, “and do you recall me giving you a hug yesterday?”
He nods slowly, his expression still unsure. “Yes... you hugged me. It felt strange.”
You nod once again, “that’s okay…I know it’s not something you’re used to…” you hold his metal hand gently.
His eyes widen in surprise as you touch him, though he doesn't pull away from you. "Do...do not..." He says softly, trying to find the right words to express what he truly feels. It’s as if the winter soldier in him is trying to protest with a last effort, but luckily it doesn’t win this time. Instead, he closes his eyes tightly and leans into your embrace instead.
You smile fondly as you pull him into your embrace, “do you remember what I used a wet cloth for yesterday?”
His eyes almost snaps open as he recalls the memory. It’s as if the last puzzle of memory is finally placed inside his head. “You used a wet cloth to clean up my face. Because I got dirty while hunting.” He answers quietly, still leaning against you.
You nod once again proudly, “that’s right… see, you’re recalling everything so quickly now…” you stroke his shoulder gently as you allow him to keep leaning on you. “Do you want to stay like this for a while?”
He sighs and nods slowly, feeling more comfortable now that he has been allowed to remember things like this without fear of punishment or retaliation. "Yes." He replies quietly.
You lay down on the bed as you hold out your arms to welcome him into your embrace. He lays down beside you, wrapping his metal arm around you and resting his head on your chest. "Thank you..." he whispers, as he finally feels some peace in his mind. You whisper in return a sweet ‘you’re welcome’ before you continue taking a nap together.
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That very same day, hours after that incident had occurred, you found yourself sitting in the living room, reading one of the many old books that had been stored untouched on the book shelf of the cabin.
The super soldier hadn’t stopped looking at you from the other couch as you tried to read in peace, until you finally broke the silence to ask, “Is something on your mind?”
He sits up and turns towards you as he asks, “Do you think we could... try something different?”
You look up from your book and ask softly, “try something different?”
He stands and turns towards you, his eyes burning with a fire that you've never seen before. “We could... have sex.” His voice is cold, devoid of any emotion other than the barest hint of curiosity.
Your eyes widen with surprise, unsure if you heard him right. “Excuse me?”
“I said we could have sex.” He repeats himself with the same uncaring tone.
You stare at him with only one word to ask, “why?”
He shrugs and looks down, finally seeming like he’s carrying some shame for even asking. “I just…I’m in a lot of pain right now…and sex is the only thing that’s eased it in the past. It has made me forget.”
“Why would you think that it could ease pain?” You ask, not understanding how he has had experience to make that conclusion while being the winter soldier.
His eyes closed tight just then as he thinks back to what you could only imagine being horrific memories. “I know because…they used me...for their own pleasure…”
Your lips part in shock as you can’t help but ask, “who?”
“The men…who kept me in order.” He swallows as he speaks, “When I wasn’t out on missions, they would…do that…as one of many tactics to keep me submissive to them…”
You lean in to hug him without further explanation, still processing this new piece of information. You knew they had been cruel to him, but you didn’t think they went beyond mental and physical torture. “Winter…I’m so sorry you were violated that way…but having sex with me won’t do any good…you need to heal in other ways…you can’t use trauma to heal trauma.”
“I know, but it's all I have. I’m sorry,” He sighs heavily as he buries his face in your shoulder. "It's just hard...to feel anything else."
“it’s not…” you assure him. “can’t you feel the affection I’m giving you right now?”
He hesitates for a moment before pulling back slightly to look at you. “I...I can feel it,” he admits softly, his expression still uncertain. “But it's not enough. The pain is too loud…”
You hold his face in my hands as I murmur, “what if I kiss you? Do you think that would give you any relief?”
You knew it was probably inappropriate to suggest it, given you two had only known each other a few weeks, but it was out of innocent intent that you suggested it. To see if it could bring any positive emotion to the winter soldier.
He stares at you for a moment, before he finally nods. "Alright," he says softly, his voice little more than a whisper.
“Are you sure? Do you truly consent to that?” You ask, needing further affirmation.
He nods less hesitantly now, “yes, I’m sure…”
You lean in, your lips finally meeting his. His lips are soft against yours as he tentatively returns your kiss. For a moment, there's a spark of something familiar—a flash of emotion that he can't quite place.
The kiss remains simple, yet soft and sweet before you pull back and search his eyes, “How was that, Winter?”
He blushes lightly, still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that he had just shared an intimate moment with you. “..It was nice,” he replies quietly. “very nice...” he adds.
You smile warmly at his reply as you can tell he seems much more relaxed. “Do you want another one?”
“Another one sounds...nice,” he says softly, his voice trembling slightly now.
You frown a little at that, not wanting to push him. “Are you sure? because one can be more than enough too…”
“No, it's alright,” he murmurs, his heart racing in his chest. “Another one would be...nice.”
You lean in again at his positive reply. The kiss deepens slightly, and he feels a shiver run down his spine. He's not sure what it is about this moment that feels so different from all the others—the ones where he was just being used for someone’s release.
You pull away and ask once again, “how was that?”
He takes a deep breath, looking at you shyly. “It was...good,” he answers quietly, his cheeks still red from embarrassment. “...Can we have more?”
You nod, a feeling of fondness overwhelm you as you continue sharing gentle and innocent kisses with the former winter soldier.
His gaze remains locked on yours as his lips move against yours, savoring every second of it. After a few moments, he finally breaks off the kiss and stares at you with wide-eyed wonder. “…More?”
You giggle softly as you nod and lean in to kiss him again. It remains pure and affectionate, the way it should be for now.
He takes another deep breath, trying to calm himself down. The warmth of your lips against his feels almost too much, but he doesn't want it to stop. “.... more.”
You pull away once again after a few kisses, looking deeply into his eyes as you make sure he’s alright. And boy does he seem to be doing just fine.
“More...” he whispers, a tremor in his voice betraying his eagerness. He reaches up to caress your cheek, fingers trembling as they graze over your skin. “Please...”
It was as if you had opened a new gate for him that day. A gate where he became aware of pure affection being the most healing thing to his soul after witnessing and going through hell.
He already knew he could never get enough of it from you, no matter how your relationship would move forward.
“How do you feel now, Winter?”
“… I feel alive.”
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N/A: I wrote this in the middle of the night because I felt very inspired to. 😅 it’s been like months since I’ve posted any fics, so I know it’s out of nowhere but I hope you enjoyed reading it anyways.
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carolmunson · 6 months
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spin doctor | e.m. x reader
mini ficlet, eddie munson works at a record store. he’s a little snobby. sort of shy!reader if you squint? it’s the very late 90s.
tw: 18+ references to smut/virginity, all around meet-cute-ish.
The rain slaps off the top of your coffee cup and into your eyes while you take a sip, woefully regretting not bringing an umbrella because the weather man said it was only misting. This isn't mist, this is just under a downpour, the hood of your dad's old canvas jacket doing little to protect you from the rain while it darkens with each drop the green fabric absorbs. You stop at the corner, protecting yourself from the weather under the awning of a laundromat. Squinting up towards the overcast gray sky, you double check the cross streets, two more blocks and you'll make it there. There being the record store that you found in the yellow pages after you inherited your parent's record player in their latest attic clean out. Your dad was smart though, sold all of the records that were in mint condition to collecters -- which left you recordless and sort of at a loss of where to start now that they were only sold at specialty stores.
You hurry your way down the next two blocks, finally seeing the sign for VI Chord Records lit up across the street in buzzing red neon. You wait to cross, seeing the reflection of the light in the wet asphalt while the sky starts to darken. Winter easing in slow these days while the nights start to come quicker than expected.
The door jingles when you open it, two guys at the check out counter looking up breifly and then back to their conversation; the other patrons don't even look. You take a breath, happy that at least no one is paying attention. You've never been to a record store before -- bought music, sure; CDs and cassettes but never vinyl -- that was like an old people thing. But your dad couldn't stop going on and on about how music just sounds better when you listen to it like that; and to be fair a lot of your favorites from the 60s and 70s sounded flat on your Walkman. You were on the hunt for the authentic experience now, the real deal.
You start at the 'New Arrivals' bin, pulling down your hood and taking off your headphones to put in your nylon back pack while you search. You sip your coffee while your fingers flick, flick, flick through the sleeves, crunching on and over the plastic protective covering of each record. You don’t know who most of the artists are, names hidden in intricate artwork or vulgar close ups of tits and crotch. You laugh at a few under your breath.
You continue your search, going over to the K section to see if you can find Carole King’s Tapestry, only to be inundated with Kiss record after Kiss record. Kix, Krokus, Kick Axe — King nowhere in the bunch. You let out a soft sigh, eyes scanning the back wall over the guys heads at the check out counter. Guitars hang on the velvet wall paper, gleaming with a fresh sign with scribbles of signatures on them. You land over by the S section, fingers flick flick flicking again to run into Slayer, T’s taken over by Twisted Sister. You don’t even realize how much time has gone by until you take a sip of coffee and nothing is left.
“Can I help you find something?”
You jump, not expecting to head a disembodied voice by the back of your neck, “Huh?”
“You just seem like you’re not finding what you’re looking for, can I help?”
You turn while he asks, one of the guys from the counter who looks like he’s stuck somewhere in the 80s and his grunge phase. His hair is to his shoulders, wavy and cut into a shag that put your moms 70s hair do to shame. The slight stubble on his chin and cheeks stretches with his smile — customer service perfection, but only for pretty things like you.
His crosses his arms over his army green tee, matching your coat that’s nearly dry now. His tattooed arms bulge slightly in the stance, straining against the small sleeves. Your eyes focus on the guitar pick dangling in the center of his chest; suddenly embarrassed by the attention.
“Um,” you start, eyes flicking up to meet his brown ones — soft and eager, like he’s excited to talk to you. Your eyes scan down to the black and gray flannel tied around his narrow waist, falling limply over his dark wash worn jeans into combat boots.
“Uh,” you stutter for a second, trying to not to get caught up in this handsome stranger, “I’m sorta new to records. My dad just gave me his but he sold all his good stuff so um — starting from zero I guess.”
“Ooh, nice,” he grins, “So a virgin, huh?”
You sputter, “Well um — no but —”
“Vinyl virgin, sweetheart,” he winks, “Don’t worry. I don’t need to know the horny details.”
“So what were you trying to find today?” he asks, leaning against the stacked milk crates full to the brim at the center of the room, “We actually just got some solid rares in if you’re trying to start a good collection.”
“I just wanna listen to oldies,” you laugh.
He laughs too, it’s smoky and cool, “Nah, nah, I hear you. What kinda oldies like — early Black Sabbath or…?”
You bite your lower lip, “I was more thinking like um, Motown? The Temptations? Maybe some James Taylor. I was mostly trying to find The Flamingos single for —”
He laughs while you continue on but then realizes you aren’t joking, head coming back to center, “Oh you’re, you’re serious?”
You feel heat lick at your cheeks and chest, sweat slickly creeping on the top of your back, “Yeah I thought…it’s a record store so—”
“Not that kind, princess,” he shrugs, hands dropping to lean against the crates behind him, “We only sell hard rock and metal here for the most part. You could check the dollar bins for drop offs, we don’t really sort those.”
“Oh,” you nod, averting his gaze while you see the big bin in the corner labeled ‘Dollar Donations’.
“Yeah maybe you’ll find your doo-wop stuff in there or something,” his voice has a hint of teasing to it that makes your teeth grit.
“Are you like, shitting on me?” you ask shakily, kind of surprised this is actually happening to you. That this guys is legitimately being a jerk over wanting music that maybe he’s not into.
“No, no, no,” he urges, “No. I’m sorry, seriously. It’s just that we don’t really get people who come in here not looking for what we sell. We’re kinda well known for being a vintage metal store.”
“Yeah well, I didn’t know that so,” you shrug, defeated weighing down your shoulders.
“It’s okay,” he assures, sweet smile tugging his lips up to reveal deep dimples, “You’re a vinyl virgin, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember,” you roll your eyes, making your way to the bin while he follows behind you.
“Maybe if you tell me what kind of music you like now I can find a good one for you,” he offers, hand resting on his chest that’s covered in silver rings and chipped nail polish, “I’ve been told I make great recommendations.”
“I’ve been liking Blink-182 lately. Backstreet Boys on the other side of the coin,” you shrug, “And um, one of my friends has been trying to get me into Nine In Nails.”
“Now we’re talking,” he smiles, “There we go. Anything else? What’s the other older stuff you like?”
“Uh, um,” you shrug again, “Elton John? Eric Clapton?”
He nods again, “Okay, some of this stuff I can work with. What about uh, hmm, Fleetwood Mac? Sort of your vibe?”
You smile at him without meaning to, making him nearly stutter at the site, “Yeah, that’s sort of my vibe.”
“Alright,” he nods while he racks his brain for the perfect album to pick for you, “I think I got an idea of what to pull for you.”
“Okay,” you cross your arms with a smirk, “Fine. I hope it’s impressive.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” he grins cockily, “Never had anyone complain about me popping their cherry.”
“At least take a girl for a drink first,” you joke back, “I don’t even know your name.”
“I’m Eddie,” his hand extends out and you take it, his skin warm and slightly clammy at his never ending bumbling when talking to girls like you, “Happy to be taking your vinyl virginity today.”
You laugh, squeezing his hand slightly when you introduce yourself before letting go, “Be gentle, please. I’m new to this.”
“C’mon,” he cocks his head to the opposite wall by the ‘F’ section, “I got a lot to show you. We’ll go slow.”
He winks again; making you swallow hard. It might not have been where you meant go today, but it might have been exactly where you were meant to be.
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actual-changeling · 8 months
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winter returns. aziraphale does not.
there have been a lot of internal arguments throughout september and october, but eventually crowley decided to transfer all of his plants and a handful of other important belongings to the bookshop. he wasn't leaving it except to nip over for coffee or take the bentley on a drive so it wouldn't get cranky, so why bother returning to his flat?
it turns out to have been the correct choice.
before the first snow, before the nights got longer than the days, long before the end of the year, crowley cranked up the heating in the shop and curled up in his armchair once more. he does not quite hibernate as such, but he comes close while in his serpent form.
muriel, who has taken to not addressing him by name at all after crowley had told them several times to drop the 'mr. crowley', gently picks him up throughout the day and allows him to settle where he pleases. mostly around their shoulders, sometimes along one or both of their arms; other times he seeks out the warmth radiating from their skin coiled up tightly in their lap.
no one sees the serpent of eden dozing on a lower angel's stomach, and no one hears when they read to him, talk to him.
"he will come back, you know. eventually. i haven't known you for long, but i can feel how much you mean to him."
"it was kinda weird at first since you're a demon, but i- well. miss nina said we are friends, and miss maggie agreed."
"i've never seen snow before; it's pretty. hopefully you're not cold."
no one sees him pressed against the window, uncaring for the chill forcing its way through his slim body, staring up at the sky in a fashion unheard of for snakes, waiting, waiting, waiting.
crowley tries to dream of the garden again, seeking out the blurry memories of warmth and ethereal protection, remnants of a grace he is no longer allowed to carry within himself. the sweet aroma of ripe apples, the smell of blooming flowers and desert sand soaking in their first taste of rain, the feeling of feather-rippled wind catching in his hair, a caress that isn't one, a touch that could be one in a few millennia.
crowley tries to dream of peace, but no matter if he wakes or sleeps, all he gets is smoke and ash and a profound sense of loss so ancient he aches and aches and aches.
still, he waits until that is all he is, a desperate wish shaped in his image.
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luna-rainbow · 7 months
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The shield-bearer vs the gun-wielder
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(Unmarked GIFs are credited to @lost-shoe - miss you 😭)
One frequent interpretation of the Steve-Bucky dichotomy sees Steve as the protector and defender with the shield, while Bucky is the aggressor and assailant wielding a gun or knife or even his metal arm. It's hard to shake that impression when we remember just how savage Bucky can be as the Winter Soldier, whereas Steve notably did not carry a weapon after CATFA. Promotional stills where they appear together reinforce that image, with Bucky often appearing with an offensive weapon (or holding his arm up offensively) while Steve holds his shield defensively.
But the picture of Bucky stepping in front of Karpov made me rethink. Despite Bucky's loss at the new super soldiers' hands a moment before, he is remarkably restrained in what he does as he leads Karpov out of the cage. I am not against the meta that suggested he gained some satisfaction at striking back at the new super soldiers, but he stuck to his goal of guarding Karpov instead of getting swept up in the adrenaline and joining the brawl - as other guards in the background did.
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Bucky is a protector. I know there are already lots of meta about this: from the moment we meet him in the back alley, Bucky is using himself as a human shield between Steve and the bully. He puts himself at Steve's back when he's rescued from the Hydra facility and he picks up the shield to protect Steve on the train. Even that one scene of Bucky being a sniper in CATFA, he shot the enemy to protect Steve. As Bucky, his acts of aggression happens when he's protecting someone (usually Steve).
So it's interesting to re-examine the violence in CATWS. Yes, Bucky/Winter Soldier is capable of extraordinary ferocity in taking down Fury and Steve and Nat, but he's also someone who sits there placidly when Pierce's maid startles them. Proactive attack isn't his instinctual state - and that becomes clearer when we see more of Bucky in CACW. He waits until violence is upon him before he retaliates: whether in Bucharest, or in the German airport, or finally in Siberia with Tony.
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And on reflection, even in this climactic CATWS scene, the visuals are consistent with Bucky’s modus operandi — he is placing himself as a human shield between his enemy (Steve) and what he needs to guard (the Helicarrier behind him). The trail of destruction he leaves behind on his way onto the Helicarrier is frank reminder of how capable of violence he is, but this moment on the bridge holds a curious stillness. He is waiting, but not as a predator waiting for his prey, but rather like a lone guard’s final stand against inevitable doom. And perhaps — his aim was never on taking the most number of lives on the airfield, it was to disperse and disable anyone who might interfere with the Helicarrier’s launch.
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Bucky's focus during the first part of the fight with Steve seems to be more on the drive Steve is carrying rather than on killing Steve. Killing Steve only comes after the Helicarriers fail (which begs the question: was Bucky specifically instructed to stop Steve without killing him and then kill him afterwards, or did Bucky have enough presence of mind to hold back for as long as he could?) Even as the Winter Soldier, Bucky seems most in his element when protecting something behind him.
On the converse, we have Steve, whose symbol is the shield, and I think it misleads (maybe even intentionally on Steve's part) the audience and his enemies into thinking that Steve's strong point is defence.
But it's not. I wouldn't call Steve an aggressor (and I'm not a huge fan of the angry chihuahua fanon), but he is far more proactive in his actions and a lot more aggressive in his attacks than the shield might suggest.
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Even this memorable image, which seems to suggest Steve is on the defense against Bucky's raging attack is actually the opposite -- Steve is rushing Bucky from the side, and Bucky's punch serves to stop Steve in his tracks (i.e. it’s Bucky's self-defense against Steve's attack).
Our first meeting with Steve establishes him as a challenger - he challenges the recruitment rules, he challenges the disrespectful guy in the cinema, he challenges Colonel Philips and Hydra and the Red Skull - and eventually, he goes on to challenge Loki and Tony and Fury and Pierce and SHIELD in the modern world.
We don't see Steve carrying a weapon in the modern era (except for maybe brief moments of him using a weapon in Avengers) and it's easy, for the audience but also for Steve’s enemies, to forget that Steve uses the shield as an offensive weapon. Sure, it serves its function as an actual shield, but Steve hurls it as a projectile weapon intended to incapacitate so many times I won't be able to list them all so I'll just let this picture speak for itself.
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Even at their first reunion, Bucky is running away to avoid a confrontation with the witness (Steve) while Steve is chasing after him to confront the sniper.
And I think this describes their different traits to a tee - Steve is like the bloodhound with a keen nose for trouble and doesn’t rest until he’s chased it down, while Bucky is like the guard dog who patiently sits by his family until commanded to fight or provoked. That's not to say Steve is always picking fights, but rather he's got an intuitive awareness of where the source of the conflict is and has no qualms putting himself into the fray. It’s also not to say that Bucky is always avoidant or apathetic, but rather he tends to watch and wait unless it threatens those he cares about...and that is probably deserving of its own meta to discuss how their separate upbringings make Steve and Bucky different in their confrontation readiness.
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"I thought you were more than just a shield," Batroc says, so Steve clips his shield back on his harness and dukes it out with his fists.
Of course Steve is more than his shield, because the shield is just a piece of disguise for who Steve Rogers really is - someone who's always assessing the world around him (rather than hiding behind the shield) and ready to challenge the injustices (rather than waiting for the fight to come to him).
The real dichotomy between Steve and Bucky is that Steve is a natural challenger, who first picks up the shield to help him undertake a single-man offence on a Hydra base. When he wakes up in the modern world and sees that the imagery of the shield is entrenched with his identity, he uses that symbol to mask his fiery defiance while turning the shield itself into a weapon that works both in offense and defence. Bucky is a natural protector, who had picked up fighting and later weapons for defence and self-defence. Hydra then turned his loyal temperament and his skill set into “the fist of Hydra” - capable of both protection and targeted destruction.
They seem to have chosen (or been assigned) a weapon that is opposite to their instincts, but it’s also why they work so well together as a unit. Steve's convictions and idealism give Bucky the impetus to take up arms, and Bucky's constancy and protection give Steve the confidence to forge ahead.
The man who attacks injustices with a shield, and at his back, the man who defends him with a gun.
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mitsuyeaah · 1 year
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UNDIVIDED ATTENTION
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SANZU HARUCHIYO x f! reader
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“said he got a lot of cash, darling, he can’t buy my love. it’s you i’m dreaming of.”
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cw: chauffeur! sanzu, ex-delinquent! sanzu, wealthy! reader, m! OC (briefly), modern au, age gap (haru is 27 & reader is 23), slight mutual pining, angst, fluff, smut mdni (intoxicated consensual sex), nsfw, virginity loss, forbidden love, swearing, mention of scars, mention of drugs, use of weed, pet names (princess, baby, pretty girl), lazily proofread (sorry in advance).
word count: 13.8k i'm so sorry
a/n: here's a little treat before my break ends! hope you guys enjoy! also, i don’t know when i’ll write something long again but we shall see :") © divider: animatedglittergraphics-n-more
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The smell of expensive leather mixed with the cologne your chauffeur wore filled your lungs as you sank back into the plush leather of the backseat of your vehicle. The lights outside dimly lit the quiet car, you stared out the window, observing the tall buildings that almost touched the clouds and billboards that surrounded the bustling city.
People were out and about, some dressed up–for what you presumed to be for the club–getting ready to start the night, some were hastily walking out of their work buildings, their IDs swaying around their neck with every step they took. You would never know what it felt like to spend your Friday night dressing up for the club, instead, you related more to the latter group of people. 
It was another stressful day at work, meetings followed after one another. It also didn’t help that more projects were handed over to you because you were ‘going to be the next successor of this company’ as per your father’s words. You let out a sigh and rested your head on the head rest, closing your eyes and letting the music and soft hum of the car engulf you.
“Sanzu?” you broke the comfortable silence, your chauffeur briefly looked at you from the rear mirror before focusing back on the road ahead of him, your eyes were still closed, “Yes, Miss?” he quietly replied.
“I don’t want to go home yet…” you muttered, placing an arm over your eyes, as if it would somehow erase all your problems. He nodded, even though you couldn’t see him and replied, “Understood.” Sanzu knew what you meant by that, he’s only been your chauffeur for 3 months, but he’s memorized every single one of your demands, no matter how vague they are.
In this case, you wanted to drop by a specific park where you spent most of your childhood playing. He knew that you went there every single time you were stressed or upset about something, Sanzu knew because he’s been driving you to this park countless times in a span of 3 months, and those times, you were always either stressed or upset.
He muttered a silent ‘we’re here’ as he turned off the engine, Sanzu held onto the wheel with his left hand and slightly turned his body to face you. You removed your arm from your eyes and let out a soft sigh as you stepped out of the vehicle, you were met with the crisp winter evening air, slightly shivering as it made contact with your warm skin.
You made your way over to the wooden bench you always sat on, it overlooked the grassy fields and the now leafless trees surrounding the place. Sanzu followed you wordlessly, at this point, he already knew what to do and it was basically routine for him.
You didn’t mind having your chauffeur by your side as you mulled over your thoughts, in fact, it was your initial idea to have him sit with you.
You didn’t expect anything from him but his mere presence, and he also didn’t mind sitting there, there was no awkward tension at all. After all, you’ve done this so many times in the past. Sanzu sat next to you, leaving an appropriate space in between and neatly folding his arms on his lap.
You turned your head to the older man next to you and furrowed your brows, “I told you, you don’t have to wear that when you’re with me… which is basically almost twenty-four seven, so you don’t have to wear it at all.”
He was wearing that stupid black mask again, which covered any facial features lower than his turquoise eyes.
You studied him, your eyes tracing his side profile. Sanzu wore his long pink hair in a ponytail, shorter loose strands framing the left side of his face, he also sported one black hoop earring in each ear but you knew he had more piercings than that, something you’ve grown fond of.
The way the warm streetlight illuminated his profile warmed something in your chest, and the way his turquoise eyes turned a shade warmer..
“Your father saw me without it… you can guess what happened next.” Sanzu shrugged, looking over at you, his facial muscles flexing under his mask—you presumed he was smiling under it but not a genuine one, it didn’t reach his eyes.
The reason for the black mask that sat on Sanzu’s face was unnecessary. It was enforced by your father that he had to wear it at all times as Sanzu possessed scars on either corner of his lips, almost in the shape of a diamond.
Your father was strict when it came to the company’s reputation, and apparently strict enough to ask your personal driver to cover his scarred face, though you thought it was purely not needed as Sanzu was just a chauffeur.
You also didn’t like the way your father asked Sanzu to minimize his earrings down to one jewelry per ear, again, completely unnecessary.
If you were being honest, your father was never fond of Sanzu and did not even have intentions of hiring him as your personal driver.
Your father only hired Sanzu because you insisted you liked him the most out of all potential chauffeur candidates, despite the man not having past experience for the job at hand but you didn’t care, the job required was to just drive anyway.
Sanzu explained during his interview for this job that he’s an ex-delinquent–another reason why your father did not like Sanzu–but has changed his ways and is now trying to live a better life, a normal one at that.
His reasoning moved you in some way, you felt the genuinity in his words which indicated that he was serious about this new path he’s taking, Sanzu was also a bit hesitant to discuss this during the interview as he felt like it was too late for him to do so since he was already twenty-seven years old–four years older than you–but you reassured him during the interview that it was never too late to change to a better path.
Sanzu has been nothing but a polite individual, he was not a man of too many words and often opted to just listen, even if it was just the both of you. Sometimes you wonder what runs through his mind.
“Well, my father is not here, so you can take it off. And I’ll tell him to lay off about that damn mask, I don’t like it on you.” you scoffed, already not liking the idea of your father scolding Sanzu for not wearing his mask.
The older man nodded and hesitantly brought his hands up to either side of his face to unhook the mask from his pierced ears. A small shiver ran down Sanzu’s back as the cold air kissed the hot skin that had been confined under the suffocating mask.
All while he was doing this, a small smile dawned upon your face, he was breathtaking.
“You know, I don’t really mind wearing a mask… it makes people stare less at my face.” Sanzu’s gaze dropped down to his hands as he neatly folded the mask and pocketed it.
He wasn’t going to lie, he liked the feeling of breathing air without a piece of cloth confining his nose and mouth but he just felt more vulnerable without it, especially when strangers didn’t bother to hide their disgust when staring.
Conversely, the mask lessened the attention on him, and he felt less vulnerable with the way it covered his emotions.
Upon hearing this, you frowned. You didn’t like the way Sanzu got so comfortable with hiding himself from the world because of the nasty stares he got from just being himself.
There was literally nothing to cover, Sanzu was just as beautiful with or without his scars, and they definitely don’t define him. Something people needed to keep in mind. You refrained from complimenting him out loud because it would be a bit awkward as you two weren’t that close, yet.
“But I don’t mind and I think that’s the only opinion that matters because I hired you, and you work for me. So, fuck everyone else, they’re just projecting their insecurities.”
You never really knew how Sanzu got his scars and you didn’t want to ask since he was clearly insecure about them but you presumed he got it from his delinquent days. Just a mere guess though.
Sanzu chuckled at your reply, he thought you were cute but still very naïve. He gave you a smile, a genuine one, “Technically, your father hired me.” you playfully shook your head at him, muttering ‘that’s basically the same thing’ under your breath.
The two of you spent an hour or so like this, a friendly banter occurring back and forth at times. It definitely de-stressed you a lot, which you were thankful for Sanzu for the most part, as he was the only one listening to your endless rants about your personal life and job.
“You wanna know why I wanted to come here tonight?” you dryly chuckled, your gaze shifting down to your hands as you fiddled with your fingers and picked at your skin. Sanzu noticed that it was a habit of yours to do that every time you had something in your mind that bothered you. He also stared at your hands, “Why?”
It took you about a full minute to answer before letting out a heavy sigh and finally looking back at him, fingers still picking at your skin, “It’s my birthday today.” you forced a smile.
Sanzu barely showed any emotions but he was visibly shocked at this, his brows shooting upwards, eyes widening and his scarred mouth slightly parting.
Genuine shock soon turned into confusion, brows furrowing as he asked you, “Why aren’t you spending time with your family? I’m sure they’d organized something for you.”
Sanzu genuinely believed this. Your family was wealthy so it confused him as to why your parents wouldn’t plan something extravagant on your 23rd birthday, like what other rich people did.
You were a child of a very wealthy man who owned one of the biggest marketing firms in the country, so it confused him a bit.
You shook your head and let out another sigh as you threw your head back and looked up at the vast sky above, “Nah… I grew up spending my birthdays alone. I would always come home to the same thing every year, a big bouquet of flowers, stacks of presents and a tiered cake. It was nice at first but I got tired of it… I never once spent my birthday with them after the age of 5.” you replied, still looking up at the stars.
Your parents were the type of people to think they could keep you happy by giving you whatever you wanted, and it did, for only a short period of time. But what you really wanted was some quality time and their undivided attention, they were always so caught up on work that they forgot about their only child.
Guess they did not, in fact, give you whatever you wanted.
Sanzu truly felt sorry for you, he’s definitely got a gist of how your family functions with only 3 months of working for you, both your parents were work-driven and managed to prioritize the company before their child’s own needs.
He felt kind of bad for assuming you were just another spoiled wealthy kid when he first started his job. Sanzu had picked you up from your family-owned company one night, a big bouquet of red roses sitting in the back seat, its scent filling the car.
Your father had apparently gotten you the roses as a congratulatory gift for being promoted, at least that’s what he told Sanzu.
He remembered how you stepped into the car and didn’t even bat an eye at the expensive gift, Sanzu looked at you through the rear-view mirror as you read the handwritten letter attached on the bouquet–presuming it was written by your father–you simply just sighed and tossed it back to the general direction of the roses.
He was a bit taken back by your behaviour but remained silent as he backed out of the parking space and into the busy streets.
Now, he understood why you acted that way that night. You were just so used to your parents giving you all these gifts that it lost all its monetary value, no matter how expensive they were.
Sanzu knew that what you truly sought out was some quality time from your parents, you didn’t need expensive gifts, you needed their love and attention just like any other kid growing up.
Even though the two of you lived very different lives, he was somewhat relating to your situation. Growing up, he never had proper parental figures, god, he didn’t even know them that much as his parents were barely home and probably fucked around with drugs, which left him and his siblings to fend for themselves.
Unlike you, he had two siblings, an older brother and a younger sister. His older brother was no different, he focused more on their younger sister which isolated Sanzu a lot but he did have his younger sister, although their relationship wasn’t the very best.
“I’m sorry. Happy Birthday.” was all Sanzu could reply, his gaze softened as he stared at your side profile, you were still admiring the stars.
You chuckled and finally looked at him and held his aquamarine gaze, “You don’t have to be, it’s not your fault… and thank you.” Sanzu’s chest warmed as he saw a glint of happiness in your eyes, he swore you were about to cry but blinked away the tears threatening to form.
You didn’t know why but his greeting genuinely made you happy, “You must think I’m so lame, I only have my chauffeur to rant to.” you scoffed and looked away once again, this time scanning the tree lines ahead of you.
He didn’t think you were lame, you were quite the opposite. Sanzu understood the demands your parents asked from you–with the amount of times you’ve ranted to him–and figured you didn’t live a very memorable childhood despite being surrounded by endless wealth.
You were only in your early twenties but he felt you were much more mature despite your young age, it was probably due to the fact that you had expectations to uphold and roles to fill.
“No. I think you’re okay.” this was the first time Sanzu has spoken more than ever for the past three months you’ve had him working for you, he was actually actively engaging in the conversation and not just the occasional nods and hums he gave when you ranted before, you appreciated this from him, more than he knew.
Your night was cut short when you remembered you had something early the next day, even though it was the weekend. Sanzu drove you back home and didn’t forget to greet you ‘happy birthday’ one last time before he hopped onto his motorcycle–that was parked inside the garage–and rode home.
You smiled to yourself like an idiot as you made your way inside your family estate, he made you happy, something not a lot of people can do.
As expected, you were met with your usual birthday presents, but this time you weren’t surrounded by maids and butlers. You stood in front of the dining hall, the long mahogany table stretching from one end to another filled with meals you get more than usual on your birthday.
The chairs were also occupied by your parents and three other guests you didn’t know, this surprised you as you’ve spent countless birthdays sitting on one end of the table, alone and no one to talk to but the maids and butlers that stood by if you needed anything. At least they were always nice enough to sing you a ‘happy birthday’ to lighten the damp mood.
You furrowed your brows at the three unknown guests, the last thing you expected was your parents actually showing up for your birthday and bringing in unknown guests to dine with.
Sure, the estate was often filled with unknown guests which you assumed were close business partners of your father and the company but you never had to dine with them.
The unknown older man sat on the other end of the table, opposite your father, whereas the older woman–probably his wife–sat across from your mother, both were around the age of your parents, and the last person was a young man probably around your age as well but you didn’t recognize him.
“Happy Birthday! We’ve been waiting for you, come and have a seat!” your father greeted you from one end of the table, a saccharine smile forming upon his lips.
You hesitantly made your way over to the only empty seat–which was across from the young man you have yet to be introduced to–and muttered a small ‘thank you’.
The young man opposite you gave you a shy smile before taking a sip of his red wine. “I want you to meet one of our most trusted business partners, the FJ group, and this is their son Heizo Fujio.” your father indicated the young man opposite you, you politely greeted them.
You’ve heard of the FJ group before, they were one of the top selling retail companies in the country with an average revenue sitting in the billions area and their brands always successfully making profit.
You could finally put a face to the owner of the FJ group but it wasn’t like you were desperate to do so. The young man–Heizo–gave you another smile upon his introduction, politely jutting his arm across the table and in front of you, you didn’t hesitate to shake his hand and return his smile but you were still confused as to why they were here.
As if on cue, your father spoke up once again with delight in his eyes, something inside you didn’t like that look in his eyes, not anticipating what was coming next.
“Mr. Fujio and I have been discussing you and Heizo… and we were thinking since both of you are our next successors, it would be in our best interest for you two to personally know each other, with marriage in mind. We have been business partners for so long and we feel like we’re ready to take it a step further.”
You didn’t know what to say.
You sat there frozen in your seat, the sound of your heart drumming rapidly against your chest engulfing you as your mind reeled. First of all, what the fuck? And second of all, I didn’t consent to this. That’s what you wanted to say but your parents raised you better than to disrespect the food on the table.
Your breathing became erratic as you could feel your limbs tingling, you wanted to do something but didn’t know what. You hated this feeling because it only came around when you knew you couldn’t do anything about the situation at hand. It was beyond your control.
Overreacting? Probably.
And yes, you haven’t met Heizo nor explored his personality and it also doesn’t mean that he might not turn out so bad but the idea of marriage was just… too soon.
You only just turned twenty-three today, you were still young and had a bright future ahead of you, and marriage was just something you haven’t thought of, especially since you’re always busy with the firm and practically have no time to get to know anyone.
Your eyes darted around the table, all of them seemed to be pleased about this news, especially Heizo. You felt like an outcast, it felt like someone had told an inside joke that they all knew except for you. Were you the only one thinking things are being rushed? Even your mother was nodding along.
Nothing came out as you opened your mouth, you thought of ways to counter this idea or at least let them re-think about the marriage. But there was nothing. Your mind went blank and you felt helpless. You didn’t know why but amidst the blankness of your mind, you swore you saw Sanzu.
Sanzu briefly glanced at you through the rear view mirror while he waited for the vehicle engine to warm up, you sat at the back seat and your beige trenchcoat wrapping around your body as you crossed your arms and looked outside the window.
He noticed your hair was styled in a ponytail, and you wore your signature diamond drop earrings that probably cost more than his life; from what he’s gathered, you only wore the pair during formal occasions.
“Heading to the firm today, right?” he asked.
You glanced over at your chauffeur, earrings swaying at every movement, he sported his usual white button up and black slacks but this time accompanied with a black bomber jacket due to the colder season.
A smile appeared upon your lips, seeing that he didn’t wear his mask, Sanzu noticed your smile. “Oh, I forgot to text you that my morning meeting for today has been rescheduled. I have a date with Heizo… so we’ll head over to FJ since they suggested we take one car.” He noticed the corners of your lips dropping as you replied.
Oh, so that’s what the earrings were for. You had a date. Sanzu thought.
This was the first time Sanzu had to drive you on a date, majority of the time he just drove you to and from work, with some other trips to leisure places like high-end stores where you came back with a shit ton of bags that housed varieties of luxury items.
You definitely had a keen eye for pretty things.
There was even one time where you asked him to accompany you to browse the autumn collection of a high-end clothing brand and he swore he’s never kept his hands to himself as much as he did inside the store, with the fear of accidentally damaging items worth more than his life.
Sanzu felt something odd in his chest at the thought of you going on a date with another man but he quickly brushed it off and nodded before he started typing the address of the FJ Group on the built-in screen of your vehicle.
The car ride was mainly silent but not uncomfortable. From time to time, he glanced over at you through the rear view mirror, your brows knitted together and occasionally letting out deep sighs that felt like there was something heavy behind it all, something that clouded your mind.
There was something bothering you but Sanzu didn’t want to pry.
He would never admit this to anyone else but it pained him whenever something bothered you, he knew the strict life you lived under the control of your parents and he knew the expectations you desperately tried to reach, and sometimes he would just wish that you had one genuine day where you were free from it all; the expectations, the stress, and the calculated future you had ahead of you.
But little did he know you were free from all that but only when you were with him.
Sanzu drummed his fingers on the leather steering wheel, nodding his head to the music while you both waited for Heizo; the car was parked–but still running–in the basement parking lot of the FJ Group firm.
He was eager to finally put a face to the name since it's been clouding his mind ever since you told him about it. Was he handsome? Well dressed? Was he good for you? These questions ran through Sanzu’s mind and he had to mentally stop himself from thinking about them as it didn’t even concern him. After all, he’s just a mere chauffeur, your chauffeur.
A fairly tall man exited the building which caught Sanzu’s turquoise gaze, he stopped drumming his fingers and focused on the man making his way towards your black Porsche.
Heizo was wearing a white button up paired with a navy blue vest and slacks, topping the outfit off with a black trench coat. Sanzu thought he looked absolutely charismatic despite being effortless, he felt a slight pang of jealousy. He didn’t know why.
Heizo enthusiastically greeted you as he entered the vehicle, his expensive musky cologne immediately filling up the car which made Sanzu almost gag at the smell, it overpowered your sweet scented perfume, the perfume you always wore and he’s grown to love.
The pink haired man silently watched as Heizo scooted all the way to the middle seat of the vehicle, leaving almost no room between the two of you, he also noticed the way you uncomfortably leaned closer towards the car door.
It was almost painful for Sanzu to hide his expression at Heizo’s brazenness, he could tell you two weren’t close with the way you shifted against the leather seat.
“We’re headed to The Black Pearl.” Heizo turned his attention to Sanzu.
Sanzu briefly looked back at the man next to you and nodded, but he didn’t miss the way Heizo’s gaze lingered at his scarred lips, a little too long for his liking. Sanzu also didn’t miss the way his face contorted ever so slightly with pure disgust before turning his attention back to you.
Sanzu cleared his throat and looked ahead of him, uncomfortably shifting in his seat before pulling out of the parking space.
It was already late in the afternoon and had just dropped off Heizo at their place. You watched as the man waved from the marble steps and hastily made his way inside their mansion.
Before Sanzu could drive off, you told him to wait and quickly got out of the back passenger seat, making your way over to the front passenger seat and sitting next to Sanzu.
He was taken aback by your bold move, his keen turquoise eyes watching you fasten your seatbelt.
“...You okay?” he asked as you made yourself comfortable against the expensive leather material of the seat. You met his aquamarine gaze and gave him a smile that shouldn’t have made him suck in a breath and his heart skip a beat, “I’m fine, just wanted to sit here.” you shrugged and looked out the window.
Sanzu stared at you for a couple more seconds, studying every single one of your features, you looked content. Definitely a contrast from your mood just a few minutes earlier when Heizo was still in the car.
Sanzu traced the outline of your pretty face and the way the corner of your lips were slightly upturned, like you were trying to hide a smile but failed to do so.
He inhaled a shallow breath as felt something inside him, something in his chest; he doesn’t know when he’s been feeling this sensation but it’s different, something he’s never felt before. It felt warm and comfortable, and he wanted to grasp every single bit of this feeling but something deep within tells him that it might be dangerous.
It wouldn’t hurt to test the waters, right? Test whatever he was feeling.
He gripped the steering in front of him and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the warmth was now spreading up his neck and to his cheeks and ears. Sanzu put the car on ‘drive’ and started driving before his mind could think of any other thoughts that would confuse him.
The date went okay.
That was the only word you could think of, nothing more, nothing less. You didn’t really expect much from Heizo but you also didn’t expect less from him.
You two just didn’t… click, all he talked about was how many successful projects he had launched, how he was the sole reason for having a higher percentage of sales than last year, and how— basically all the business talk.
Although, the only thing that stuck to you was that Heizo was the same age as you, not that it mattered.
You didn’t care about the business talk he brought upon the table, nor did you care about the fact that he–on your very first date–bought you expensive jewellery and from his words, which was ‘one of a kind’ as he had gotten it specifically catered to you. Whatever the fuck that meant.
You remember blankly staring at the necklace that rested inside a black velvet box, every single diamond twinkling under the restaurant lights.
You remember the proud look on Heizo’s face, like he had done something out of this world, like he thought he had already won your heart by merely buying you something expensive. Maybe it’s the thought that counts.
Just like my parents, you thought.
There was no genuine connection between you and him because you two clearly had different ideas in mind when thinking about what to talk about on a first date.
If you actually saw potential in Heizo and tried, you would have wanted to get to know him. You didn’t wanna know about what fantastic deals he’s closed, how much he contributed to the company sales, nor how much he spent on that necklace he got you.
You would’ve wanted to know about his interests and what he does in his free time to entertain himself.
In this world, you feel that people forget so much about the little things, the little things that matter. Nowadays everyone focuses solely on the monetary value and often forget that one of the foundations of love is attention, being attentive towards their partner and fulfilling their physical and mental needs with what they actually need.
People often mistaken that going for a materialistic approach will fulfil one’s needs but it doesn’t.
Sanzu had the urge to ask how your date went, he could feel the question building in his throat but had to quickly swallow it down because it did not concern him in any way. But it’s as if you read his mind, you broke the silence in the vehicle, “It was awful.” you scoffed.
“All he talked about were business-related things and was just basically flaunting his money. The audacity of him to think he’d be able to win me over by using his wealth… I mean like, not that he has a chance but you get what I mean, right?” You turned your head to the pink haired man, his aquamarine eyes focused on the road but you knew he was listening intently with the way he nodded his head and gave you a hum.
“Goodness, what a fool he is if he thinks he can buy my love.” 
“The last time I went on a date was when I was twenty and I kid you not, these men have not changed. Thinking that all the ladies would be impressed about being rich.” you continued your rant, Sanzu has never seen you this worked up over something, it amused him a bit and thought you were cute.
“Hm. Maybe because I’ve been looking in the wrong direction for a real man." he could feel your burning gaze on the side of his face and it took him all his willpower not to look back at you because he had to focus on the road.
But fuck, his heart was beating so fast. Last time his heart beat this fast was when he took unknown pills to try and forget everything.
All you wanted was someone different, like a breath of fresh air, someone genuinely interested in you and your personality. Yes, Heizo was wealthy and you both were in the same tax bracket but what is he underneath all that wealth? What kind of person would he be?
Later that night, after his job for the day was over, Sanzu went for a night drive with his motorcycle. He wanted to clear his head because all he could think of was you.
The way your lip gloss complemented your lips, the way your hair perfectly framed your face, the way your eyes twinkled every time— Fuck, this is unprofessional, he cursed himself.
How could he be thinking about you like that? You were so sweet and nice, and the sole reason why he got this job, so he couldn’t compromise his position by thinking this way.
But you were just so pure and so innocent that he wanted to ruin you, to ravage every single ounce of your innocence— “Fuck.” he whispered to himself as he sat on his still motorcycle. He wanted to smoke so bad but he knew better than getting high and riding back home.
As soon as you got home, you managed to convince your parents that you didn’t think things with Heizo were going to escalate further than being just business partners and to your surprise, they took it quite well, especially your father.
He even mentioned that maybe you two weren’t actually compatible from the beginning. This relieved you as you thought they would finally let the marriage idea go.
You thought wrong.
For the past few days, you finally knew why your parents were able to let that whole situation with Heizo go down the drain and it was because they found you new suitors.
Yes, plural. Apparently they had a whole list of your potential suitors and Heizo was just one of the many, this made you question your parents why they were so desperate to get you a husband. After all, you were only at the ripe age of twenty-three.
Just as you expected, it was for the future of the company. Like it always had been when it came to your life. Pursue a business degree, it’s for the sake of your future and the company, they told you and so you did. Focus on your studies and quit messing around, you’re the future of the company, they told you and so you did.
They reminded you countless times how you were the future and successor of the company that it almost became embedded in your brain, you had expectations to reach and roles to keep up with, but at the same time, your parents forgot that who they were pressuring was just a mere child.
They didn’t know the heavy weight you had to carry upon your back, practically sacrificing your mental and physical well being for the sake of the company. It also didn’t help how apathetic they were; they missed your birthdays, your university graduation ceremony, and most importantly they never gave you the love and attention you wanted.
Gifts were given to you in exchange for your parents’ absence.
Your whole schedule was practically cleared just to go on dates for your potential suitors and Sanzu was surprised when you told him about your current situation, and why he had to drive you everywhere but to your work.
It was yet another one of those days where you had just finished a date with another suitor, you were growing so damn tired of it, of everything. Every single one of these men–more like boys–were just what you expected.
No one stood out and no one bothered to make a genuine connection with you. You were met with all sorts of strategies and presents that were used to woo you but none of them worked because at the end of the day, they were all just the same, they only had wealth to brag about.
In between the dates you went on, you got closer to Sanzu, close enough that you were both now on a first name basis and you were even sitting more frequently beside him while he drove.
You also noticed how much he has opened up to you, he barely wore his mask and wouldn’t hesitate to give you hearty laughs whenever you tried to lighten the mood.
It didn’t even feel like he was your chauffeur but instead a friend. A friend who you could lean on, a friend who didn’t base you solely on your status, a friend who saw you for who you really were.
A friend who gave his undivided attention.
Although, the funny thing was that during your dates, your mind started to wonder what traits you were looking for in a partner because you clearly already knew what you didn’t want in a partner. During these, you would often find yourself comparing every single one of your suitors to a particular someone.
Haruchiyo.
Every time someone new came, your mind went back to Haruchiyo and thought about how they were nowhere near his personality that you’ve grown so fond of.
You looked for Haruchiyo Sanzu in every guy you went on a date with.
And at that moment, that was when you finally noticed your feelings that had been lingering and laying dormant deep in your heart. The dates you went on awakened your feelings for him.
You were in love with Haruchiyo.
You sat there, frozen while blankly staring at the road ahead of you as you came to the realisation that you loved him. You didn’t even know you were gripping the fabric of your pants until Haruchiyo asked if you were okay and pointed it out as he briefly glanced over your way and back to the road, “Hm? I’m fine…” you murmured.
Haru was the best person you could imagine to fall in love with but the situation was complicated. It was a risk and you never took risks, everything in your life was calculated and planned out for you. Besides, you didn’t even know if he even felt the same way.
“Have you ever been in love, Haru?” you leaned your head onto the headrest and turned your head to him, lips jutting out in a slight pout.
God, he liked it so much when you used his nickname, it did unexplainable things to him. Haruchiyo waited for the car to come to a complete stop at the lights before turning to you and holding your curious gaze.
It took him a few seconds to answer, like he was wracking his brain around to find the most suitable reply, “Hm… I guess I could say yes.” you nodded before dropping your gaze and looking out the window, how lucky she must be, you thought.
“What made you ask?” he questioned, returning his focus back on the road as the light turned green.
You shook your head, still looking out the window, “...Nothing. It’s just that I think— no, I am in love with a certain someone but it’s complicated.” you let out a huff and avoided looking back at the man that made your heart ache and skip a beat.
His brows shot up at your sudden confession, Haruchiyo gripped the steering wheel a little harder as he felt jealousy engulfing his body, “Oh? One of your suitors? Isn’t that good?” it pained him trying to force himself to sound like he cared. But he didn’t, he didn’t give a single fuck about it.
“No and no. That’s the thing… he’s not a suitor that my parents have picked out.” you covered your face with your palms, groaning into them. This feeling drove you crazy, you wanted Haruchiyo so bad, you yearned for him but didn’t know how to approach the situation.
Haruchiyo’s heart skipped a beat at this; there it was again, the warm feeling that spread throughout his body but this time he knew what it was.  There was this ounce of hope that kept him going, that you would see him as a man and not just someone who worked for you.
“Ah… then who is it?”
Haruchiyo did his best to remove all traces of desperation laced in his tone. He took deep breaths while waiting for your answer. He wanted to look at you so badly but he needed to focus on the road, he wanted to see your expression right this very moment.
You remained silent at his question but your mind was screaming for you to tell him how you truly felt. Your limbs were tingling, your heart was racing and your mind was going crazy; the confession was stuck in your throat but you couldn’t physically bring yourself to do it because you were scared to take the risk.
But at the same time, this was a risk for yourself. Your very own decision and not made by someone else.
Your fists clenched on your lap as you prepared yourself, your leg bounced with anxiety as tension grew, slowly filling the vehicle as his question remained unanswered. You bit your lip, desperate to tell Haruchiyo how you really felt about him.
Fuck it. was your last thought before opening your mouth to confess.
“It’s you. I’m in love with you Haru.”
Haruchiyo Sanzu almost fucking choked on his saliva. His brows shot up and mouth slowly parted at your sudden confession, he didn’t know what to say, his throat was suddenly dry. Haruchiyo felt like he was intoxicated, his legs and arms felt lighter, everything just felt so different.
Fuck, was the music always this loud? He thought. His mind raced as he played your confession over and over again, and without fail, it made his body warmer.
He was fucking ecstatic. You love him back. He wanted to just lean over across the console and kiss you so badly but he couldn’t, you were so close yet so far away from him.
“Fuck, princess, you can’t just confess like that while I’m in the middle of driving.” he let out a sharp breath followed by a breathy chuckle.
Before you knew it, Haruchiyo was already pulling into the garage, he swiftly parked the vehicle and turned it off before turning to you. Silence engulfed you both as you held each other’s stares, you swore your ears started to ring with how intense his gaze was.
You blinked, “D-do you feel the same way?” you broke the silence, studying Haruchiyo’s face, he was truly beautiful, the way his long pretty lashes complimented his turquoise eyes. He briefly closed his eyes and opened them again, nodding his head, “Is that even a question?”
A smile made its way to your lips and your eyes twinkled as you looked up at him with hearts in your eyes. “I really want to kiss you right now… but I’ve never kissed anyone and I don’t really know how…” you trailed off, avoiding his turquoise eyes as your cheeks warmed at your silly confession.
You stared at his lips, it was so tempting. Haruchiyo noticed you staring at his lips and thickly swallowed, normally he would start feeling uncomfortable if it were any other person that stared at his lips but it was different with you.
With you, he didn’t have to reel back and hide his biggest insecurity. Your gaze felt warm, there were no signs of disgust and judgement, only love.
“I can help you out… if you want.” Haruchiyo replied, his voice dropping an octave lower.
“Please, Haru?”
Haruchiyo swore under his breath as you begged for him. He wasted no time leaning over the console and reaching for you, placing a firm hand on the side of your neck as he desperately pulled you closer to him and sealing the gap between your lips.
His kisses were slow and sensual, it was your first time after all so he wanted you to feel all of him. Your lips perfectly moulded against each other, he was so warm and soft that you almost didn’t mind doing this all day.
You desperately clawed at the fabric of his chest, wanting more of Haruchiyo’s kisses. The ringing in your ears got louder as you kissed him longer, your legs felt weak even though you were sitting down, and your head spun. It felt so so good. The way your body reacted to his kisses was something you’ve never felt before.
Something within Haruchiyo stirred when you let out a whine as he started rubbing the side of your neck using the thumb of the hand that was firmly placed there. He’s barely even touched you properly and you were already whining for him? How cute. He’s going to absolutely ruin you.
Haruchiyo was about to stick his tongue in your mouth until he heard the garage door open. You both lunged away from each other at the loud sound, desperate to catch your breaths.
You bit your lip at the state of the man in front of you, his cheeks were dusted pink, lips swollen and letting out soft pants as his chest desperately rose up and down. Beautiful, you thought.
“Oh fuck, it’s your father.” Haruchiyo’s lust-filled eyes widened, reaching for his pocket and quickly slipping his mask on, you both desperately tried to fix yourselves up before exiting the vehicle and pretending like you two weren’t just sucking the life out of each other a few seconds ago.
Your father greeted the both of you before hopping into his own car with his personal driver. You headed for the door that led inside the estate while Haruchiyo headed for his motorcycle, you both looked back at each other and gave shy smiles before parting ways.
Later that night, you had asked Haruchiyo to meet up and discuss this whole situation and he was grateful for this as he didn’t really know where he stood at that moment, plus, there were hundreds of questions running through his mind.
Yes he was ecstatic about the mutuality of both your feelings, but this was the real world, you were both adults that led very different lives and he knew this wasn’t going to be easy for the both of you… if you two agree to go down the path of establishing a relationship.
You snuck out from your room, heart drumming against your chest as it was your first time doing this. You’ve never snuck out and barely disobeyed your parents so this was clearly an uncommon ground for you and the thought of being caught sneaking out scared you, especially if you were caught by your father.
Haruchiyo waited in front of the garage, sitting under the starry night sky as he leaned on his motorcycle. A small smile crept up your lips as you spotted him and as if on cue, your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.
He didn’t sport his usual white button up and slacks, instead opting for dark denim pants, black turtleneck, and a leather jacket to top it off; he also wore his hair down which sat past his shoulders.
“You look nice.” you tilted your head up to him, eyes twinkling like the stars in the dark sky.
The corner of his lips twitched up, he muttered a shy ‘thanks’ before handing you a helmet. You placed the black helmet over your head as Haruchiyo hopped on his motorcycle and turned it on, you followed suit, struggling to get on due to being shorter but nonetheless managed to, with the help of the older man.
“Hold on tight. Don’t let go.” Haruchiyo reached behind him and took both of your arms, encircling them around his waist. You nodded, although you knew he couldn’t see you.
As Haruchiyo revved the engine of his motorcycle, your arms tightened around his waist, interlocking your hands that rested on his stomach and leaned your encased head against his back.
He couldn’t help but smirk at your behaviour.
With that, the both of you speed into the darkness of the night, the stars dwelling upon you both. Twinkling like they were happy for you two and your newfound love for each other.
The cold air hit you as Haru manoeuvred his way to your destination, it felt nice riding the motorcycle. You were hesitant at first but managed to relax since Haruchiyo was with you, you felt the safest when you were with him.
It didn’t take too long before the two of you reached the all too familiar destination.
The Park.
The both of you sat sideways on his motorcycle, shoulders touching one another while basking in comfortable silence. “...Why me?” Haruchiyo broke the silence, genuine curiosity laced within his question.
“I mean, you practically have guys begging to be with you. All those expensive gifts, their money, their status… and I’m just… me. A lowly individual who definitely doesn’t make half as much as you do.”
Haruchiyo was genuinely confused as to why you even fell in love with him. It didn’t make sense. He’s done so many wrong things in his life, he wasn’t even making that much money and probably couldn’t provide even if he wanted to and he definitely didn’t even match up to your suitors.
They were wealthy and he was… just normal.
“You’re young and you have a great life ahead of you, so why choose someone like me? Why not go for someone near your age?” He continued.
You chuckled, “That’s the thing. I fell in love with you because you’re you.”
“I don’t care if they’re wealthy and bought me expensive gifts. Those don’t mean anything to me, and you of all people should know that by now. But you, on the other hand… you’re different. Yes, you might claim to have nothing and that’s okay with me, because all I’m after is your love and attention that you did not fail to give me every single time.”
“They could never buy my love with expensive gifts, but you were able to buy my love with attention because that’s all I’ve ever wanted, Haru.” you leaned your head on his shoulder, a sad smile forming on your lips.
Yes, Haruchiyo did not have the wealth to offer you like your suitors had but he offered you something greater, something you’ve been asking for your whole life and that was undivided attention.
He was attentive and listened to you like you were the most interesting person in the whole world–which in fact, he did think you are–, he has been nothing but sweet to you and you couldn’t help but fall in love with all that.
You couldn’t help but fall in love with a man who had no wealth to offer you.
And that was more than okay.
“Also, I don’t care if you’re older than me, it doesn’t matter. All my suitors were merely boys, I’m after a man who knows how to treat me well.”
Haruchiyo couldn’t help but laugh at your sentence, he reached for one of your cold hands and started rubbing them in between his own, tracing unfamiliar shapes on your palm, he leaned his cheek on top of your head and let out a sigh. “I really want to kiss you right now…”
You removed your head from his shoulder which made him look down at you, you met his gaze, “What’s holding you back, Haru? Kiss me.”
You’ll be the fucking death of him.
Haruchiyo obeyed and leaned down to close the gap between the two of you, both your lips cold from the winter air. His kisses were different this time, way different. Haruchiyo kissed with desperation, both his palms cupping your frozen cheeks as he desperately tried to get closer to you.
He didn’t hesitate to stick his tongue past your lips, to which you moaned at the foreign feeling. Everything felt so good, the way his tongue moved against your own, the way he tasted, and the way he firmly held you against his lips.
Haruchiyo trailed hot kisses along your jawline, making you shiver from the contrast of the cold temperature.
“Fuck… this is so unprofessional.” he whispered against the hot skin of your neck before lightly sucking on it. “I don’t— mhm! I don’t see you stopping though…” you angled your head up at the starry sky to give him more access to your neck, your hands making their way to his rosy pink hair and tugging at them.
Haruchiyo let out a low growl, chills running down his spine as you pulled at his hair, “Hmm? You seem to be enjoying yourself.” he chuckled as he gave your neck a peck before pulling away and looking at your flustered state.
Your lips were swollen and soft pants slipped past them as you stared at him with a clouded gaze. He’s barely even touched you and you’re already a mess.
“But… What about your father?” he suddenly looked concerned. The look in his eyes changing from lust to anxiety, he bit his lip at the thought of your father’s wrath. He wasn’t afraid of what your father would do to him, rather he was afraid of what would happen to you.
You were scared.
You knew your father never liked Haruchiyo, not even a single ounce of him but he tolerated Haru for your sake. He hired him for your sake. You were definitely scared of your father finding out about the two of you, there were a lot of reasons to be.
The first one being Haruchiyo not fitting into his standards. You two led very different lives and you could already hear the other companies and media gossiping about you and how you fell in love with your chauffeur who was an ex-delinquent.
You could see your father doing everything he could to make sure you’d have no contact with Haruchiyo.
You shook your head and buried your face in his chest, inhaling his scent, it helped calm you down a bit. “I-i don’t know, Haru… I’m scared but all I know is that I want to be with you.” he placed a hand behind your head and stroked your hair, reassuring you that he’ll be by your side no matter what happened.
But deep down, he was scared shitless. Not because of your father but because he knew that the universe could easily take you away from his grasp and he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it, because that was life. Life was cruel and harsh, and he didn’t always get what he wanted, no matter how much he prayed to the stars above him.
This time, he wished the universe would listen to him just this once. He could be stripped away of everything for all he cared for but he wouldn’t know what to do if it was you who was taken away from him.
It pained his chest just thinking about it.
A few weeks have passed since establishing your relationship with Haruchiyo, in secret of course.
You two had gotten closer to each other and spent more time together in the evening–away from everyone’s prying eyes–after he picked you up from work, and you always looked forward to them because he truly made you forget about every single thing that stressed you out.
There would be times where you two would steal shy glances at each other whenever someone else was around, slightly brushing your hands with one another as you walked past him in the garage.
But there would also be times where no one was around and the two of you freely held one another, shy glances turned into make out sessions and the slight brush of your hands turned into firmly holding one another.
You also spent more time in the back area of the estate where most of the house workers would be.
You knew Haruchiyo hung around a lot there while waiting for you to go and thankfully all the other workers didn’t bat an eye at your sudden frequent appearance there.
Although, one thing that has gotten you on the edge was the now strained relationship with your father. You’d argued with your parents for days on end about the whole marriage idea and finding a suitor, you told them that it was simply too early to be getting married and that you wanted to focus on your career.
Of course, this was mostly true but you didn’t want to meet other suitors because you wanted to focus on your career but because you’ve already found someone who you want to spend the rest of your life with.
Your father didn’t take the argument too well which resulted in a strained relationship with him. You now felt like you were walking on eggshells when trying to converse with him.
You’ve also discussed countless times with Haruchiyo about the idea of introducing him as your boyfriend to your father, he wasn’t scared about the confrontation but he knew that it wouldn’t go well.
There was a small ounce of hope that maybe, just maybe that your father would actually be on board with your relationship. He wasn’t a cruel man, no, but he had his morals straight and did not hesitate to let anyone know.
But, this was merely just hope you were holding on to and you have yet to test it.
“You look absolutely stunning, by the way.” your boyfriend stole a glance at you from the rearview mirror, his aquamarine eyes twinkling in the dark vehicle.
You were on your way to the venue of the annual winter company party for all employers that worked under your family and the company, and that included Haruchiyo. “I could say the same about you.” you giggled. 
It was your first time seeing Haruchiyo sport a low bun but you weren’t complaining; he wore a 3-piece suit–provided by you–which he looked sexy in.
The way the vest hugged his thin waist did unexplainable things to you. Although, the highlight of it was you managed to convince him to leave the mask at home and when he had asked you ‘why’, you simply replied something along the lines of not being able to freely kiss him.
“I want you to walk in with me.” you said as Haruchiyo took the keys from the car and pocketed it, he looked back at you and smiled, nodding. His nerves were getting to him and he didn’t know why, it was just a party, that’s all.
It took all his will power to not wrap his arm around your waist to let all the other men in the room that you were his as you two walked inside.
As expected, it was grand.
Waiters were everywhere serving wine and fancy little appetizers that he probably couldn’t pronounce the name of; it was already filled with familiar faces dressed in fancy attires, many who stood around several cocktail tables and chatting with one another.
As if sensing Haruchiyo’s nervousness, you reached for his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze before dropping it, he wished you held it a little longer, he was already missing the warmth of your hand.
Your father spotted you and made his way towards the two of you, completely oblivious to the fact that you just held your chauffeur’s hand mere seconds ago. “Sanzu, so glad you could make it.” your father nodded in appreciation at the pink haired man, sternly smiling at him before dropping his gaze down to his uncovered lips.
Haruchiyo froze at this, he didn’t know what to do. The anxious feeling that he’s been pushing down now came surging up, spreading throughout his body, he felt so small and vulnerable, and he absolutely hated it.
You noticed your father’s gaze, annoyance rising as you mentally cursed to yourself. You shifted closer to your boyfriend, letting your arms touch, this made Haruchiyo a bit calmer and appreciated how you always looked out for him.
Before your father could say anything about Haruchiyo, you pulled him away, asking about tonight’s event. You quickly looked back at your boyfriend who was still standing there and mouthed an apologetic ‘I’m sorry’ as you led your father elsewhere.
Haruchiyo shook his head, indicating that it was okay, before pointing to the bar and heading for its direction. Maybe he’ll get a glass of water to clear his mind
With that, you and Haruchiyo barely saw each other as the night progressed. Apparently our father had invited some of the company’s business partners and introduced them to you, it was just never ending introductions all night and you wanted to be beside Haruchiyo.
You wanted to know how he was doing for the period of time you’d been gone from his side.
You finally got a breather from all the introductions and darted your eyes around the venue, there were a lot of people but you knew you could easily spot Haruchiyo by his pink hair, you craned your neck around to look out for his vibrant hair but you couldn’t see him anywhere.
“Looking for someone?” a voice asked behind you.
You let out a sigh and turned around, “Haru, I’ve been looking for you everywhe—” your sentence was cut short due to the fact that it was not Haruchiyo. “H-heizo… hey, um, nice to see you.” you gave him an uncomfortable smile and tried looking behind him for signs of your boyfriend.
The man in front of you began speaking about topics you couldn’t care less about. You only wanted Haruchiyo. You distractedly scanned your eyes around the venue once again, absentmindedly nodding at whatever he was saying before spotting a familiar head of pink hair, he was headed for the doors.
“H-hey, I’ll talk to you later. ‘Kay?” you gave Heizo a small wave and didn’t wait for his response before hastily making your way to Haruchiyo, who just now slipped past the entrance of the venue and was headed outside.
Little did you know, your hasty movements caught your father’s attention, you were headed outside which piqued his curiosity.
Haruchiyo was leaning against the side of the building, you spotted him as soon as you stepped outside, the cool winter air kissing your exposed skin which made you shiver a bit.
“Haru, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” you took a couple of steps and stopped towards the older man, effectively trapping him against the wall. No matter how much Haruchiyo decided to hide his emotions, you knew his eyes never lied. There was something bothering him, the way his aquamarine gaze avoided yours was a give away.
You frowned at his behaviour. “Baby… talk to me.” you tilted your head and cupped his cheeks, “Did anyone say anything to you?” he brought his warm hands over yours and leaned into your touch, eyes closing as it calmed his mind.
“I just— after your father gave me that stare earlier, I couldn’t help but become more insecure and I just felt like all eyes were on me whenever I walked around there.” Haruchiyo sighed and finally met your worried gaze. Your eyes softened at his expression and you gently ran both your thumbs on either corner of his lips.
Your thumbs traced the raised skin on his cheeks, softly stroking them as if it was the most fragile thing in the world, “I’m so sorry.” you whispered and leaned closer to him, giving his scars a kiss.
Your lips lingered on either side of his mouth, handling them with utmost care. Haruchiyo’s chest warmed at your action and leaned his forehead against yours, once again closing his eyes at the intimacy.
“I love you so much. I don’t think I can ever let you go.” he whispered.
You were about to close the gap between your lips until you felt a harsh grip on your wrist, suddenly pulling you away from Haruchiyo. His eyes shot open as he was met with emptiness in front of him, he looked around to see you standing next to your father, his hand firmly on your wrist. Your expression mirrored his, shocked, scared, and confused.
“Stay the fuck away from my daughter!” your father pointed a harsh finger at him, his face contorted with pure anger.
Haruchiyo began to explain the whole situation while taking a step towards you but your father had cut him off and stood in between, effectively blocking his view of you.
Your desperate attempts to calm your father down and telling him not to make such a scene were ignored, you balled your fists as you felt tears welling up in your eyes.
Your boyfriend noticed your distress and wanted to comfort you badly but like everything else in his life, all he could do was stand there and watch you cry.
“I’m taking you home.” your father glanced back at you before pulling you in the other direction, stumbling upon your heels as tears clouded your eyes. Haruchiyo stood there frozen on his spot, fists clenched by his side as the darkness engulfed your figure.
Just like that, he knew his prayers weren’t answered. He knew that the countless nights he prayed under the stars to have you did absolutely nothing.
Yes, the universe was cruel but why didn’t the stars align for you two? Why did he always have to lose something precious? He was already empty from the beginning but losing you gave him a whole new meaning of emptiness.
That night, you layed in bed staring up at the ceiling, tears still rolling down from your eyes. You haven’t stopped crying since the incident and it also didn’t help that your father argued with you all the way back home, he was the one who drove your car back, not Haruchiyo.
You told him about your relationship with Haruchiyo, to which he simply replied along the lines of ending your relationship with him.
You replayed every single harsh word that came out of his mouth about your boyfriend, it broke your heart thinking that there are some people out there that view Haruchiyo in this light. He didn’t deserve that.
“Out of all the guys you could’ve picked, you picked him?! Some scum from the streets? He has a criminal record for fucksakes! I’ve already been lenient enough when you asked me to hire him as your personal driver but this… I can’t let this slide. Having a relationship with your chauffeur? Absolutely outrageous!”
He told you that you were also getting a new chauffeur and forced you to delete and block all your connections with Haruchiyo which broke your heart even more. There was definitely no getting back from this and you feared you would never see him again. You just wanted to see him.
A small whimper escaped your lips, you felt helpless, you wanted to scream out your lungs but didn’t have the energy to, you just wanted Haruchiyo. Your chest ached and your throat tightened as you cried into your pillow, hands tightly gripping the sheets that engulfed your numb body.
You heard the familiar rev of Haruchiyo’s motorcycle, it was faint but distinguishable. He was here? You figured he was there to grab his motorcycle and head home for the night, your heart raced at the thought of him being so close yet so far. You were about to get off your bed and head for the garage until the roaring of his motorcycle faded into the darkness, he was gone.
If you want to see him, you can. A voice replied in your head.
You blinked your tears away and shot up from your bed, your mind running through the endless possibilities of seeing him. You didn’t know where he lived but you could easily obtain that information from the electronic copy of his job application that he had previously sent. 
Quickly reaching for your phone, you tapped through the ‘files’ application and pulled up the file you needed.
Bingo.
You entered the taxi you called for and never looked back, not fearing for anyone catching you leaving at this hour as your father had returned to the party and most staff were there as well. You didn’t care if you were in your pyjamas, all you cared about was that you were going to see Haruchiyo.
After paying and bidding the taxi driver a thank you, you made your way to his house, double checking the number stated on your phone with the one plastered on the door. You knew he was home because his motorcycle was parked near the front door.
You lifted a hand and gently knocked on it.
Footsteps on the other side of the door could be heard walking closer until it came to a halt. It took a few seconds before you could hear the fumbling of locks, like they already knew who was on the other side of the door.
The door burst open and revealed a dishevelled Haruchiyo, his rosy pink hair was a mess and his eyes puffy and bloodshot from crying.
You caught a distinct whiff of something else that made you scrunch your nose but you weren’t that naïve to not know what it was. There was definitely another reason why his eyes were red.
Haruchiyo laughed to himself, resting a palm over his eyes like he was going crazy, “Fuuuck, I’m so high that I’m even hallucinating right now.” he chuckled to himself, slurring the words that came out of his mouth.
You noticed the rolled joint rested between his fingers of his other hand and let out a heavy sigh.
You remember him telling you that he would occasionally smoke weed to ease the pain he felt but he reassured you that he hasn’t done it for a few months now. It pained you that you were partially the reason for his behaviour.
You wasted no time to wrap your arms around him, tightly hugging him and never wanting to let go. You reassured him that it was in fact not a hallucination and that you were really there with him. Haruchiyo did not believe you until he ran a slender hand down your back, stroking your hair.
The older man began sobbing uncontrollably that you were actually right in front of him and mumbled sentences along the lines of how he missed you so bad and how empty he felt for the past few hours.
You made your way inside and shut the door behind you, still not letting go of him, “It’s okay, I’m here now. I’ll never leave you.” you sniffled as you buried your face in his chest.
Haruchiyo pulled you both into the couch, his hands firmly situated on your hips as he pulled you onto his lap. He had a lot of questions running through his mind but he was too high to even think about it, all that mattered was that you were there with him.
You circled your arms around his neck and shifted on his lap, trying to find a comfortable spot, “Fuck, don’t do that princess.” Haruchiyo groaned, stilling your hips as he threw his head against the backrest and took a long drag before puffing his lungs out, thick smoke dancing past his lips and evaporating into thin air.
You keenly looked at him, eyes focused on the joint between his fingers.
He noticed your gaze and jutted the joint towards you, a brow lifting in suggestion. You met his clouded stare, eyes droopy and red from intoxication before dropping back down to the joint which emitted wisps of white smoke.
Without any hesitation, you took it from his hand and rested it between your puckered lips, taking a long drag like what Haruchiyo did. It immediately burned your lungs and throat, you couldn’t properly puff out the smoke as you coughed uncontrollably at the foreign sensation in your chest and tears began forming in your eyes.
Haruchiyo stroked your back and slightly chuckled at you, “You took it like a champ.”
He grabbed your hand that held the joint and pulled it closer to his lips before slowly inhaling, his pretty eyes never leaving yours the whole time he did this, and before he exhaled, he placed a hand on your nape and pulled you closer to him. Haruchiyo puffed out smoke past your lips as he gave you open mouthed kisses.
Everything felt so good and light. Your senses were becoming clouded as Haruchiyo did more rounds of blowing smoke into your mouth, you felt light headed, your sense of touch was heightened and you felt horny.
You suddenly felt everything. With the way his warm hands enveloped your neck to the way his lap felt against your thighs.
With intoxication clouding your senses, you didn’t hesitate to swing your leg over his lap and straddle Haruchiyo, to which he merely responded by holding either side of your hips, smirking.
“Haruuu, I want you so bad.” you leaned into his neck, sucking a spot which made him groan.
You started grinding your hips against his as you felt something tingling down there, begging for some kind of friction. Haruchiyo guided your hips against his hard clothed cock, shamelessly moaning at the sensation. Everything felt so good that even as little as grinding against you could get him over the edge.
“Fuck, princess, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into…” he whined as he rested the back of his head against the backrest of the couch, moving your hips back and forth.
You needed more.
You wanted to be closer to Haruchiyo and without thinking, your hands trailed down his chest and into his joggers but before your hands could venture any further, Haruchiyo caught your wrist, “I want to taste you.” he whispered, and kissed your hand.
The two of you messily made your way to his bedroom, lips moulding together and hands tangled with one another.
Haruchiyo softly pushed you onto the soft bed, you made yourself comfortable by scooting up to his pillows before laying down, the room was spinning and your head was pounding but you didn’t care.
He followed suit, crawling up to you and began marking your neck, his large hands making its way inside your pyjama top and grabbing your breast.
“No bra? How naughty…” he chuckled against your neck.
You could only whine at this as he roughly massaged your breasts. You didn’t even know your top was gone until Haruchiyo wasted no time sucking, licking and biting them, giving it all the attention it deserved.
“Haru, please. I just want you.” you grew impatient at his ministrations, he thought you were cute because you clearly had no idea what he was about to give you.
“And you’ll have me… you’ll just have to be a good girl for me first. I want to taste all of you.” he trailed a hand down past your stomach and into your pants. You immediately threw your head back as he circled your clit through your panties, groaning out his name as you tried to close your legs.
“Hmm, so responsive.” Haruchiyo smirked at the state of you as he pried your legs apart.
He wasted no time taking the last pieces of clothing off your body, pulling both your pants and panties down your legs.
Warmth spread up to your cheeks as you were exposed to Haruchiyo, it was your first time doing this and no one had ever seen the entirety of your body.
You closed your legs, suddenly feeling shy as he didn’t bother to hide the stare directed at your wet pussy, “Don’t hide from me now… you wanted this, remember?” he grabbed both of your knees and parted your legs, trailing soft kisses on your inner thigh.
Haruchiyo breathed in your scent as he got closer to your sex. He took experimental licks at your folds and observing your reaction to them, your face was contorted in pleasure and your head was thrown back against his pillows. He took this as an indication to keep going, and he did.
He pressed his mouth against your clit and started sucking like his life depended on it, this earned a loud moan of his name from you which urged Haruchiyo even more.
He slipped his tongue past your folds and explored the warmness of you, you tasted so fucking sweet and he couldn’t get enough of you. He alternated between giving your clit stiff licks and sucking on it which made your hands fly down to his rosy pink tresses and before you knew it, Haruchiyo had brought you to your first orgasm.
You felt a sharp sensation run up your spine as Haruchiyo brought you over the edge, lapping up every single bit of your cum, your vision became white for a second and you swore you saw stars.
Your chest heaved at the intense sensation but you couldn’t help look down at him, he had your cum running down his chin, messy rosy pink hair and heavy lidded eyes.
“I’m not done with you yet, I’m just getting started.”
By the time he brought you to your second orgasm using his fingers, you were already sensitive but you knew what was coming next and you’ve been anticipating this ever since you started grinding on his clothed cock.
Although, you were a bit afraid of his length even though you haven’t seen it, but you’ve surely felt it. Two slender fingers were already too much for you, so you didn’t know what to expect of his cock.
Haruchiyo finally took off all articles of clothing that hid his pretty body, you gaped at his torso, he was definitely on the skinnier side but was well-built. He reached for his joggers and pulled them down along with his brief, he sighed at the sensation that his cock wasn’t being restrained by anything.
Fuck, he was long.
You stared at his stiff cock in all its glory, it wasn’t that thick but his length definitely made up for it. The tip had a pretty shade of pink, just like his lips and was already leaking of precum.
He gave his cock a few strokes before grabbing a condom from the night stand and rolling it down his length, he got on the bed and crawled closer to you.
Haruchiyo sat on his knees and rubbed the tip of his dick at your entrance which earned a whine from you, he got on top of you and started kissing your lips, distracting as he was slowly slipping his dick inside.
“Haru, fuck!” your hands flew to his biceps, gripping them as he pushed further inside, “Are you okay? Did I hurt you anywhere?” his head shot up, concern filling his eyes as he met your glassy gaze, you hastily shook your head and urged him to continue.
With that, Haruchiyo continued pushing in, “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight for me…” he buried his face against your neck, goosebumps arising from his hot pants. You felt an uncomfortable stretch as he continued to push his cock inside your tight heat but at the same time, it felt good. So good.
As he bottomed out, Haruchiyo had to take a breather, you were hugging him so tight that if he moved even the slightest bit, he would come right then and there. He pulled out just a bit and squeezed the base of his cock until the urge to cum just dissipated.
“Please move.” you whined and brought a hand up to his cheek, stroking his scar.
Haruchiyo obeyed and didn’t waste any time before slowly moving in and out of you which caused you to moan loudly and throw your head back against his pillows, your exposed neck gave him the liberty to paint it with even more bruises.
He started to pick up his pace, his balls slapping against your ass and loud squelching sounds could be heard throughout the room.
“F-fuck! You’re so good for me, huh? No wonder why you chose me over them—ngh! You like a man who can give you good dick?” he panted against your ears, sucking and nibbling on them as his thrusts didn’t falter.
You could only moan at his words and claw his back due to the unfamiliar sensation engulfing your body but Haruchiyo wasn’t satisfied with this. “Answer me.” he whispered before biting the side of your neck, harshly.
“A-ah, fuck! Yes! That’s you Haru.” you yelped.
You didn’t even know your eyes were closed until he pulled out of you and was about to whine in protest at his sudden movement, “Wha—” “Face down, ass up for me, pretty girl.” You sat up and turned to face the mattress, bringing your torso down and leaving your ass exposed.
Haruchiyo briefly massaged your ass before pushing back into your cunt and bottoming out all in one go. You balled your fists against his sheets and let out a loud moan, this position was even better, you never knew he could reach inside this deep.
He started moving again, hips loudly slapping against your ass as he matched the thrusts he had previously given you, your moans were definitely a pitch higher and all kinds of sounds spilled from your lips uncontrollably.
You were suddenly roughly grabbed by the back of your neck, resulting in your back pressing against Haruchiyo’s broad chest. Both his palms massaged each of your breasts as he fucked up into you, causing you to throw your head back at his shoulder.
“You’re always so good for me… so pretty.” he whispered, his voice strained indicating that he was close.
“Mm! Only for you Haru—ah!” you reached down and started rubbing fast and tight circles on your clit, wanting to cum with him.
The coil inside you snapped and you started cumming around his cock, fisting your hands against his mattress as the familiar intense sensation runs up your spine. You loudly moaned his name, back arching as the pleasure became too intense.
At the same time, Haruchiyo roughly pushed your face back into the mattress, his thrusts becoming even rougher as he neared his climax.
All it took for him was your clenching walls and he threw his head back in pure bliss, mouth parted as loud shameless moans slipped out, grinding his hips against your ass which pushed his dick even further inside as he helped you ride out your orgasm.
A chain of profanities rolled from his tongue as he shallowly thrusted inside you, milking every last drop of his cum.
The two of you were both spent and sweaty, and how Haruchiyo managed to clean you up was beyond your comprehension. The last thing you saw were his aquamarine eyes and long lashes holding your gaze before sleep took over you, you swore you heard him say ‘I love you’.
The morning came rolling around and your eyes fluttered open, the first thing you saw was Haruchiyo’s peaceful state. He looked so pretty and effortlessly beautiful with the way his long lashes brushed against his cheeks.
You definitely had a keen eye for pretty things.
He looked soft, definitely a complete contrast from his persona last night.
You could get used to waking up to his pretty face every single morning because even though Haruchiyo didn't have anything materialistic to offer you, unlike everyone else, he only had one thing he could truly afford, the one you've been chasing your whole life.
Undivided attention.
Haruchiyo may have not noticed it but his love and attention may have been the most expensive gift you've ever received.
And you knew you’d fight for his love, no matter what it took because you were tired of hiding him from the world.
You wanted to scream your lungs out on a rooftop that you were in love with Haruchiyo Sanzu, the man who offered you nothing and everything at the same time.
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wowie, thanks for making it to the very end!
© mitsuyeaah
2K notes · View notes
zepskies · 6 months
Note
Hello. I was wondering if you could write an imagine in the BMD-verse (been following it for a while now; love, love, love it, by the way!) where Ben cries?
Like something really bad happens in general or to the Reader, and he losses it? I mean, personally, I have never known this man to cry, and I would love to see you conjure up something that could possibly elicite that reaction from him.
But no pressure - will definitely understand if you don't want to write it!
Oooh, so you really wanna kill me, huh? 🫠😭😭
Lol it's okay, thank you for loving Break Me Down!! It's one of my favorite story verses that I've been able to create on here. ❤️❤️
This request was difficult for me on multiple levels, but I think I was able to pull it off? (I'll let you be the judge.) This is set in the BMD-verse, shortly after "Love Actually."
Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader
Word Count: 2,400 Tags/Warnings: Major angst, show-level violence, hurt/comfort, "twist" ending (you'll want to read until the end, trust me).
Imagine: Ben loses you.
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Ben restrained another sigh when he realized you were no longer walking next to him.
He turned and saw you stopping in another damn kiosk, this time looking at a selection of Pashmina scarves. As if you didn’t have enough clothes.
“We’re not here for a damn shopping spree,” he called after you.
He ignored the people who glanced at him as they walked past, a couple of them even shooting him an annoyed look.
One didn’t just stop in the middle of a busy sidewalk in New York City, but as with most societal protocols, Ben couldn't really give a fuck.
He almost started tapping his foot. Instead, he crossed his arms as he glared in your general direction. You were smiling and chatting with the woman selling her wares as you finished the transaction.
Ben at least could admire the view of you bent over in those tight jeans and ankle boots. You also wore the dark green winter coat he bought you last month, lined with faux fur to keep you warm.
When you eventually came back to him, you shot him an amused smile. You held a new scarf in shades of green and blue, to match your coat. But you also held out a new pair of leather gloves for him.
“Here you go, Grumpy. I didn't forget about you,” you teased. He raised a wry brow at you and took the gloves. He inspected them with a half-critical eye.
“And how much did these cost, five cents?”
You rolled your eyes and kept walking. He caught up with you and slipped the gloves into his pocket.
“My hands don’t get cold anyway,” he reminded you. And you often complained that his body heat was like a radiator, especially at night. Although, you hadn’t been complaining since the winter turned frigid this February.
“All right, whatever. Just don’t say I never get you anything,” you quipped. “Besides, you know you love to accessorize.”
A smirk pulled at Ben’s lips. The gloves were a half-assed gift, but he still wore the watch you got him for Christmas proudly on his wrist. That was a nice silver Rolex.
“All I know is, we’d better not be late for this damn meeting,” he said. “I don’t wanna hear Mallory’s fucking mouth.”
The two of you had made a day of coming into the city, hitting a nice brunch spot and ice skating at Rockefeller center before your date had been rudely interrupted—by a call for a new mission.
Grace Mallory had been a bit cryptic on the phone, but it had something to do with the mess Ben left of the drug cartels in South America. After they got back to the States, Ben left that “business” behind…he just hadn’t thought of how that would shake out in Colombia.  
So now, you two were headed to the Supe Affairs building. You slipped your arm around his, while his hands were in his pockets. You looked up at him with a smile.
“Try to enjoy the little things, Ben,” you told him. “We had mimosas and some bougie ass lobster tails with our eggs this morning. I skated circles around you on the ice. And now we’re going to get some work done.”
“On our day off,” he retorted.
“To be fair, you made the mess, Mr. Kingpin,” you pointed out. “We’ve just gotta clean it up…as usual.”
“Hey," he eyed you. But you both knew the warning had little heat behind it.
He still reached for your cheek and brushed his thumb across it. He felt how cold your face was, and he stopped for a moment in the middle of the sidewalk. Neither of you cared when pedestrians gave you dirty looks as they passed by.
Maybe you were right though. Maybe he should take stock of the small moments. Ben held your face with both hands and caressed some warmth back into your skin.
Your smile softened, and your eyes closed when his lips found their way to your forehead. He then took the newly bought scarf out of your hand and wrapped it comfortably around your neck.
“What a gentleman,” you said, with a small grin.
Ben smirked down at you…until his face fell.
He heard the whistle of the bullet before he saw it.
It took him another second to move, grabbing you and shielding you with his entire body when it hit his back. The bullet itself bounced harmlessly off his skin, but the inner compartment of Novichok exploded like a small smoke bomb. The smell was too familiar to him to be anything else.
Ben coughed and was forced to push you away from him before the gas reached you. You yelped and almost tripped on your feet, but you scrambled back against the wall of a drycleaners. Your wide eyes met his as his knees buckled; the gas had clouded around his head.
“Run!” he shouted through fits of coughing.
You hesitated, for just a second. But when another bullet ricocheted into the wall behind you, near your head, you ducked and had to take off running.
You wove through the busy sidewalk, pushing people out of your way as you went. Whoever was after him this time, you had a feeling these were the people Ben had pissed off in Colombia.
Fuck! You sprinted past an alleyway and saw the hand coming for your arm, but even when you turned, there was another man, dressed a black military-style uniform with his face covered by a black mask, waiting to grab you from behind.
It was muscle memory. You released an elbow into the man’s neck, a punch straight into his teeth and nose, then kicked his knee out with the heel of your boot.
You grabbed your gun from under your jacket and would've shot him, except the next man wheelhouse kicked it out of your hand. You stepped back on instinct, ducking the following punch, and the rest of his arm to run in the opposite direction.
The first man pointed a large automatic gun straight in your face. You gasped and put your hands up. With a quick glance in either direction, you realized that they’d cornered you.
Your hands were pulled behind your back by someone else. That’s when they started dragging you toward a black SUV parked in the corner.
Except that car was soon destroyed, by an old Honda Civic being shoved into it. The SUV's hood constantined like an accordion.
You looked up with wide eyes, and there stood Ben, at the crossroads of the alley. He was furious.
“Soldier Boy,” greeted the man who once again held the automatic gun poised at you. He pulled down his mask, revealing the tan face of a middle-aged man.
He moved over to you and grabbed your arm from his subordinate. He raised the gun to your back. With one press of his finger, your insides could become Swiss cheese.
Your jaw clenched as you tried to take in even breaths. You focused on Ben. His green eyes met yours, and briefly you caught the worry behind them before his steely gaze moved back to the man who held you.
“Pretty ballsy, Reyes,” Ben said. His voice was a drawl, more controlled than he felt. “You really thought this was gonna go down that easy?”
Reyes scoffed. “You’re the ballsy one. Taking off with all that product you stole.”
“You’ll have to take up with the CIA on that one,” Ben replied. “They confiscated all the smack from my place. Probably reselling it to a few hobos down the street. You’re welcome to check under the bridge over there.”
He gestured in the direction of the Hudson River.  
Reyes shrugged. The sound of a gun’s safety being clipped back resounded through the alley. You felt the vibration of it on your back. Your eyes closed for a moment.
“Bad news for her,” he said.
"Hey," Ben snapped. "There's no fucking need for that."
"I think I'll decide what we need," said Reyes. Your lips pursed as the gun dug into your back. "Maybe it's your bitch's insides at your feet."
Ben slowly raised a placating hand. Though his gait was still relaxed and arrogant, as always, you knew it was a well-crafted act. To hide his anger. His fear. To seem in control of himself, and to reinforce the intimidating presence he still was, even unarmed.
“Listen. If it’s money you want, we can work it out,” Ben replied.
His eyes once again found yours. He could see you were holding your breath. You were good at hiding it, but he knew you were scared. He wanted to tell you that he had this handled. That everything would be all right.
He focused on Reyes again. The other man considered the supe with a tilt of his head. He sucked his teeth and spit on the ground, out of the corner of his mouth. It was mixed with a bit of blood from when you'd punched him in the teeth.
“Okay, my friend,” said Reyes. “Let’s work this out. Pull out your phone.”
Ben made slow movements in grabbing his phone from his pocket. They all stepped further into the alley to avoid prying eyes and discussed the transfer of funds, and how much was fair. Ben claimed he was giving him a deal with his first offer.
Reyes demanded three times that amount. Ben raised his brows...but he complied. The money transferred from his bank account.
“Okay, we’re fucking done,” Ben snarked. He gestured at you with his eyes. “Let her go.”
In his mind, he was already contemplating how thoroughly he'd rip Reyes apart for this. After you were safe. He'd have a first class ticket to Medellin by tonight, ready to Colombian-necktie this cocksucker.
Reyes sighed through his nose. There was still about ten feet between him and Ben. He didn't seem to think it was enough. He took the gun off your back and backed up with you a few steps. Eventually, he released your arm.
“Come ‘ere, sweetheart,” Ben reached a hand out, beckoning for you. You met his gaze once again, and let out a subtle breath.
You took three hesitant steps forward.
And the gunshots echoed horribly through the alley.
As it turned out, Reyes always had an escape plan. You were merely the distraction.
It proved effective, as Ben’s protest rang out as soon as the bullets fired. He raced forward and caught you as you stumbled, but his hands soon became coated in your blood; it fled from your back in thin rivulets.
You gasped and clung to his arms. His ears rang with the sound, along with tires squealing and shouts and police sirens. All he could focus on was the color draining from your face.
Both of your breaths came out ragged as he slid with you down to his knees. He brushed your hair away from your face, even as his blood-covered hand stained your cheek. Your pained eyes drew up to his face. You tried to speak, but you didn't have the strength.
“I hear the sirens. They’re coming for you, take you to the hospital,” he promised. His voice was rough, but his throat was tight. His eyes scanned over you. “All you need is my blood and…Christ. Fuck it all.”
He laid you down on the dirty asphalt and hurriedly yanked up his coat sleeve until it ripped. It exposed his arm. He was about to drag a blunt nail across his own skin to bleed into you.
“Ben.” Your fingers twitched against his knee.
When he looked at your face, there was no longer life in your eyes.
His own were wide, almost uncomprehending. His breathing was harsh as empty hands fell to his thighs. His head felt heavy, though his ears were still ringing.
He drew enough strength in his hand to wipe the blood from your cold cheek…but your face was beginning to blur.
Or not, he realized, as the sting in his eyes took him by surprise.
In a fit of mania, he gathered you back up in his arms and ignored the wetness covering your back. He held you, impossibly tight. Tighter than he’d ever held you, because he was alone in the alley…because he was alone again.
And it was his own fault.
His eyes squeezed shut against the burn, but it was futile. Everything was. His breaths were sharp and stifled as pain tore inside. A pain worse than anything the Russian's could've inflicted on him.
His lips pressed against your forehead, trembling there. The first drops of wetness rolled down his cheek. He couldn't stop it from happening, but then again. He guessed he truly was a failure, after all.
You made the mess…
His first tears had been spent at his mother’s funeral, when he stood alone at her gravestone.
His last ones would fall and die with you.
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“Ben,” your voice was soft but insistent.
He finally woke with a start. A sharp inhale through his nose.
He had been sleeping on his side. Before he even truly registered where he was, in the safety of his bedroom, he turned his head toward you.
His eyes found your face in the dark, over his shoulder. Your hair was frizzy from sleep. The strap of your nightgown had fallen off one shoulder. Your face looked bleary and tired, but you frowned in concern.
“You okay, baby?” you asked. Your hand soothed across the dewy skin on his arm.
Ben’s throat constricted. He was starting to remember bits and pieces of the dream…the nightmare. He rubbed at his eyes, then dragged a hand over his mouth.
“Yeah,” he said at last.
“Hmm.” Your gaze narrowed at him. “You sure?”
Ben had only enough energy in him to nod in response. His heart was still racing. Maybe you sensed that, because you leaned onto his arm and dropped a hand down his chest. You kissed his bare shoulder with soft lips, and he couldn’t help himself.
He raised a hand to cup the back of your head. He let out a long, relieved sigh through his nose, closing his eyes. Then he turned onto his back and brought you closer, with an arm slipping around your frame and pulling you against his chest. You made a sound of surprise, but you went willingly.
You brushed the sweaty strands of hair away from his face and pressed a kiss against his neck, to his jaw, his cheek and above his brow. He accepted it all and tried to calm his breathing with the feeling of your touch, and the smell of your flowery soap that lingered on your skin.
With a hand still cupping your head, he guided your lips to his. He claimed you slowly, but with purpose. You answered him by tilting your head, deepening the kiss for a moment.
You parted from him just as slowly. You knew everything wasn’t okay, but you also knew it wasn’t the time to push him for an answer.
Maybe in the morning, you thought. …I’ll make pancakes. Haven't done that in a while. And he’s always happier with something sweet.
You rested contentedly against his warm chest and let his heartbeat, gradually slowing back into a steady rhythm, lull you back to sleep.
Ben tangled his fingers into your hair. He laid one more kiss on the top of your head.
And for damn sure, he was going to cancel that trip into the city tomorrow.
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AN: I know, I know. The "it was all a dream" thing is super cheesy, but I couldn't leave it on heartbreak. I just don't have it in me with these two. 🥲❤️‍🩹
Read the Sequel:
A friend of mine requested a sequel to this imagine: "You confront Ben about his fears."
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Soldier Boy Masterlist
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suashii · 4 months
Text
꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝒲𝐼𝒩𝒯𝐸𝑅 𝒲𝒪𝒩𝒟𝐸𝑅𝐿𝒜𝒩𝒟 — christmas-y and winter-esque activities with the hq boys !
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info ⭑ includes: sakusa kiyoomi, akaashi keiji, & iwaizumi hajime ノ 2.2k wc ノ sfw ノ fluff 
note ⭑ this is part two; you can find the first part here! also considering doing one more part with oikawa — anyone else you'd like to see?
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❆ SAKUSA KIYOOMI
“woah!” your hand tightens around sakusa’s and the other flails in search of the railing you swore you were ready to let go just a minute ago. if your loss of balance is evidence of anything, it’s that the confidence you had built up in your ice skating was misplaced. when you suggested the activity a couple of days ago, you didn’t expect that it would be so troublesome.
“you okay?” sakusa speaks up to ask from beside you.
you carefully turn to face him. his cheeks are painted a rosy hue and the dark curls hanging over his forehead contrast the fluffy, white earmuffs situated atop them. just like he has been all night, sakusa’s steadily standing on the blades of his skates. the fact that you’re the only one struggling makes you frown. “if being moderately embarrassed is okay, then yes, i’m peachy.”
he smiles at your sarcasm but gives your gloved hand a comforting squeeze. a puff of cold air is visible as you let out a dramatic sigh. “how the hell are you so good at this anyway?”
still sure to hold your hand, sakusa glides along the ice so that he’s in front of you. his change in position makes you wobble a bit but you’re able to stay upright. “my sister used to take me when i was younger.”
the thought of a little sakusa being guided around the rink by his sister brings a small smile to your lips. you wonder what he was like back then—did he stumble and frantically look for aid or was he born with a natural talent on the ice? you’d like to think that he was once in your shoes but you wouldn’t be surprised to find out he excelled from the beginning.
sakusa can practically see the gears turning in your head. he can’t help but think you aren’t having as much fun as you thought you would on this outing, with all the staggering and whatnot. he’s no expert himself but he is skilled enough to make your time here more enjoyable. “give me your hand.”
you look at your hand gripping the railing and then back to sakusa. “this hand?”
“yes, that hand.”
you think about how you’ve been floundering like a fish out of water since stepping foot in the rink and grimace at the thought of further making a fool of yourself. you tell sakusa as much. “i think i’m good here. i’d rather not risk hitting the ice.”
“i’m not going to let you fall,” sakusa assures you, inching forward to lessen the gap between the two of you. he holds his unoccupied hand out to you and meets your eye. “trust me.”
your boyfriend is nothing if not a man of his word. with a nod to encourage yourself, you loosen your grasp on the metal pole. you falter for a brief moment after letting go of the railing but your balance is quickly regained when sakusa takes your hand in his.
you look at him with widened eyes and sakusa swears he can see sparkles in them. “i’m still standing,” you excitedly tell him through a smile.
“told you.” your smile is infectious and is mirrored on sakusa. “i’ll pull you forward now.” 
the dark-haired man gives you no time to protest before he’s skating backward and dragging you along the ice with him. a high-pitched squeal marks your initial surprise but the wail turns to delighted laughter when you realize, for the first time tonight, that you’re actually skating. sure, it may be with the aid of sakusa giving you momentum and keeping you on your feet, but you’re more than happy to not be struggling anymore.
after a couple of laps around the rink, sakusa slows and lets you stumble into his chest. your less-than-graceful slump is cushioned by the fabric of his scarf. you wrap your arms around him and tip your chin up to look at him. 
sakusa pulls you impossibly closer to him, leaving a kiss on your hairline before asking, “are you having fun?”
you hum, snuggling into him. “yeah. thank you, kiyoomi.”
❆ AKAASHI KEIJI
even with gloves pulled over your hands and a hat protecting the tips of your ears, the cold is beginning to get to you. you should have expected this much would be a consequence of being outside for so long, but upon seeing the fresh, untouched snow left in the courtyard of your apartment complex after getting home for the day, you couldn’t help but abandon your plans and beg akaashi to help you bring some festivity to the small community by building a snowman.
you’re busy rolling the ball of snow that will become its head and the wetness of the snow is starting to soak through your pants. the clothes you had worn to work aren’t suited for this sort of weather but once you’ve started something, you make it your mission to see it through until the end. 
you’d be lying if you said you weren’t ready to get into the warmth of your apartment and a pair of cozy pajamas, though.
you tasked akaashi with running upstairs to put your things inside and to retrieve some materials necessary for putting the finishing touches on your snowman. he seemed reluctant to leave you out in the cold at first but his drawn-out absence is starting to make you wonder if he’s taking a few extra minutes to warm up inside. 
even thinking such a thought is enough to make you giggle to yourself under your breath. he would never consider leaving you in this bitter weather all alone if you didn’t ask him to. you’re not sure what’s taking him so long but you do know he’ll be back as soon as humanly possible.
you’re humming a tune to keep you distracted from the cold while you pack the snow into a ball. 
the melody you’re vocalizing is interrupted by the sound of the external door opening. you don’t bother turning around to see who it is—people are constantly coming in and out of the building. you just hope no one looks at you strangely for constructing a snowman by yourself at this hour.
“don’t you think it’s time for a break?”
the proximity of the voice makes you flinch but you relax when you register that it’s akaashi’s. you clap the snow off of your gloves before standing up and turning around to see what he means.
“we’re almost d—” you start, but the sight ahead of you makes you stop in your tracks.
you expect to see the supplies you sent him to go get in his hands but two cups—the good ones he uses to take his coffee to work—are in his grasp instead. he holds one out to you, gently shaking it in a silent gesture to urge you to take it. “hot chocolate.”
you poke your lip out in a pout as you reach out with both hands to take a hold of the travel mug. through your gloves, you feel the heat of the metal. that combined with akaashi’s gesture are enough alone to warm you from the inside out. you bring the mug to your lips and take a cautious sip. the warm beverage on your tongue makes you sigh in delight. somehow, it's always better when akaashi makes it for you.
“good?” akaashi asks after taking a sip of his own.
“delicious,” you nod, a smile tugging at your lips, “and very much appreciated.” you see now what was taking him so much time upstairs. of course he was thinking of you and your wellbeing the entire time he was away. he’s often told you that you’re always on his mind and he’s made that much clear through the heartfelt action.
you hum when you realize that you sent him inside for things that weren’t hot chocolate. “did you get the other stuff, though?”
akaashi nods, unzipping his coat just enough to pull out the santa hat he tucked in there. you laugh as you take it from him. inside, he’s stuffed a scarf and a singular baby carrot. you look at him with a wobbly smile, jerking your head in the direction of the almost-finished snowman. “shall we?”
your teamwork makes the process go back twice as quickly and in almost no time, your festive snowman is complete. rocks make up his eyes and mouth, the tiny carrot his nose, and a couple of sticks shoved into the middle snow sphere act as his arms. one of your scarves is wrapped around his lack of a neck and he sports a santa hat atop his head.
the two of you snap a quick photo with your creation—one where akaashi pretends to eat his nose while you stand by and watch in shock—before hurrying back inside to cozy up in bed for the rest of the night.
❆ IWAIZUMI HAJIME
it doesn’t snow in california, not in irvine, at least. iwaizumi has only had to spend the holidays there once, but he vividly recalls how homesick he felt with the lack of snow that year. he’s never been a huge fan of it, but he’s grown a newfound appreciation for the wintery weather since then—so much so that he’s sure to enjoy some activities with you in it whenever he’s visiting home for the few weeks at the end of the year.
you’re usually more than happy to oblige because the activities are innocent and lighthearted enough. though, this year, the stakes seem to have risen.
you don’t remember the snowball fights in your childhood being this… intense. it had started harmlessly enough with the two of you playfully chucking the poorly packed masses of snow at each other but somewhere along the way, after you both started taking the game a little more seriously, you had run off to take cover from iwaizumi’s assault. 
you’re stationed behind a tree now, on your knees and upping your supply of snowballs. it’s only a matter of time until he makes his way to your place in the park and you want to be prepared to fight back when he does. you may be his lover but you’ve learned quickly that the title doesn’t grant you immunity—he doesn’t plan on taking it easy on you.
the crunch of snow beneath boots makes your ears perk up. iwaizumi is close by and you don’t plan on getting caught like a deer in headlights. quietly gathering up your ammunition, you rise to your full height and take a deep breath before darting off in the opposite direction of the footsteps.
“hey!” iwaizumi’s voice rings throughout the air as he picks up his pace to chase after you. you must have abandoned your stealth tactic because you’re screaming like you’re being pursued by a maniac. if he wasn’t so hellbent on catching up to you, he’d be keeled over in laughter due to your theatrics. 
as you run to nowhere in particular, you can hear balls of snow just missing you and falling flat on the ground. you wonder how many snowballs iwaizumi has wasted trying to sling at you in motion and if you'll have the upper hand soon. maybe it’s not the best idea to turn around while you’re running but you do so to see how close he is and to get a glimpse of how much snow he has left to throw.
you aren’t able to get a good look at either before your foot catches on something—likely a lump of snow—and you tumble to the ground. your fall knocks the breath out of you and you’re pretty sure you crush all of your snowballs upon landing.
“holy shit,” you faintly hear iwaizumi call out as he approaches. just a few seconds later, he comes to kneel down beside you. “you okay, babe?”
you are. nothing hurts too bad and you’re sure you’ll feel a little sore from your spill but it’s nothing to warrant worry. despite that, you’re willing to milk this for a little attention. you paint a look that you hope comes across as pain over your face. “it hurts.”
“where?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowing with concern. “show me.”
weakly lifting your arm, you point to your lips. the concern drains from his face and is replaced by faux annoyance when he sees that you’re only messing with him. his swift change in reaction makes you grin but you don’t drop the act. “kiss please.”
iwaizumi plays along, not wasting a moment before leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. the bitterness of the air has chilled both of your lips but they warm up in no time being pressed together like this. he pulls away just slightly to ask, “all better?”
“almost.”
he’s about to ask what you mean when chilly snow smashes against the side of his face. you throw your hands up in victory, earning an eye roll from the man hovering above you. “headshot, i win!”
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salutations from sua! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎
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