#i am sooo touch deprived SOB !

[saetoshis]

sigh i need a hug

[wannabevampire]

Sitting on Druig’s lap, wearing one of his shirts and a pair of panties, and he uses his legs to keep yours spread while he plays with you and gives you strict orders to not look away from his hands or else he won’t let you cum

head empty.

this is just so,,, AHHHHH- (๑>◡<๑)

　　　　　　　 ˚✧₊⁎🩰♡🕊˚✧₊⁎

He’s sitting on your bed, his back propped up against the headboard. You’re perched on his lap, squirming with anticipation.

He’s been holding you in this torturously wonderful position for roughly 45 minutes.

Seeing you wearing his clothes always made him ridiculously horny. His possessiveness jumping up to make an appearance.

“mine.”

Holding your legs open with his, and resting his chin on your shoulder allowing his access to burrow his head in the crook of your neck. And the entire time he’s been spilling endless words of filth into your ear.

The position he was keeping you in was preventing you from relieving any bit of the desperate ache between your legs. The only form of stimulation he granted you was occasionally brushing his fingers over your clothed pussy. Even that tiny fraction of pleasure was threatening to throw you into an orgasm.

You were sensitive all over. Tears gathered on your bottom lashes, threatening to spill down your cheeks.

He began to run his hands up your body. His fingers sliding under his your shirt, twisting and playing with your nipples.

You lost it.

Tears began streaming, you started to whine and beg even more desperately than before. Which Druig honestly didn’t think was possible.

He finally decided to give in. As much as he loved you like this, and desperate and fucked out. Sobbing for him, begging for him to touch you. Ready to take any thing he offered. You had been a good girl, and the two of you had been at this for awhile now.

He shushed you and spoke words of comfort. His tone mocking you making your brain feel fuzzy and leaving your underwear drenched.

“Oh i know i’m just sooo mean, aren’t i?”

“My poor girl just needs to be fucked. That’s what you were made for after all. And who am I to deprive you of the only thing that dumb little brain of your can comprehend?”

“Alright pretty girl. I’ll give you what you need.”

…

~🧁｡🩰｡🎧｡🧴~

lord have mercy.

xoxo allie♡

[happytsukki]

me, you, and us.

t. kuroo

genre: angst

wc: 1.5k

a/n: i’ve had writer’s block for a few days and i was about to just stick to reading bc i can’t write to save my life. was genuinely about to give up and just finish my smau LOL but here’s my attempt to keep going ;-; should i write a pt 2? dont know if its better left at that sooo you should tell me your thoughts!

“look, i’m happy for you, really y/n,” kuroo hesitates and inhales sharply. his fingers fidget around the mug laid in front of him, eyes avoiding the look tinged with concern painted across your face. “but what about us? you said— no we said we would do this whole adult thing together. we would build our lives in tokyo with our family and friends. you would become a lawyer, i would become a scientist. then, we could start a family, have mini me’s running around here,” he shudders, his voice growing increasingly weary with every word. his chest heaves up and down as he fights the urge to cry out in frustration.

three years. it’s been 3 long, glorious years since kuroo confessed his feelings to you back at nekoma. and what first began as something simply platonic blossomed into an enduring type of love that allowed the two of you to brush past all the obstacles. first, it was conflicting time schedules at work, then it was that overly flirty coworker that seemed to constantly cling on to him, and there was also the ex-boyfriend trying to “befriend” you again ordeal; but despite all the struggles, your love reigned supreme and nothing seemed to separate the bond you two held.

and love to kuroo meant not only reminiscing in the first’s, and reveling in the now’s, but also dreaming about the what if’s. dreams that he so badly wanted to become a reality.

“i know, tetsu, but look,” you desperately plead, a hand reaching out to capture his face, jaw tightened and brows knitted tightly. your knees brush his thighs as you lean forward but he remains rigid in his position. you’ve never seen him like this, indignation underlying his despair. “it’s a paid internship with one of the best firms in the nation! imagine how many opportunities this opens up for me, no, i mean for us in the future. besides, distance has nothing on us, right?”

no matter how hard you tried to sound confident, it sounded too much like a question rather than an affirmation. you could feel the cracks emerging in your relationship. the doubts washing away the glue that held you two together against all the past ups and downs. and despite being only a few feet apart, you felt oceans away from the man in front of you.

“no,” he says sternly, recoiling from your touch. he stands and takes steps away from you, a pained expression staring right back at you. “there’s no us in this, y/n. this is all about you. you’re the one being selfish.” he snarls, pointing a hard finger at your face.

“don’t say that tetsu, that’s not true,” you shout back, rage stirring within the depths of your stomach. you couldn’t fathom how he was blaming you right now. you were fully certain that if he came home to you one day, rejoicing in news of an opportunity for his career path, you would cry out in jubilation. so the fact that he was doing quite the opposite made your blood boil.

“i thought you would be happy for me— but you’re just being a dick about it!” you scream, loud enough for your neighbors to hear past the thinly lined walls of your apartment, but you couldn’t care less. your emotions were high and there was no off switch to stop the flood of venom slipping out your lips.

“are you kidding me? i’m the one at fault here y/n?”

at this point, both of you are shouting at full volume, anger bouncing off each other, and chipping away at your hearts. how could the one you loved the most be the one who ended up hurting you the worst? you think to yourself, breaths growing ragged from your emotions.

“but you are tetsurou! why can’t you support me?” it’s tiring, and maybe it’s your mind fighting your heart, but whatever it was made you feel completely helpless. it was like being stuck between a rock and a hard place, and each choice resulted in your own misery.

“what am i supposed to do while you pick up everything and move to the other side of the japan? did you expect me to come with you, or stay here and continue long distance? admit it, you didn’t even bother thinking about me in all of this, because i was never a part of your future!”

then there’s silence.

a deafening silence that was far too long on your part. and kuroo decides right there and then.

amid your scramble to find the right thoughts, right words to convince him, no— yourself that he was always in your mind, a priority in your heart, he storms off into the bedroom you shared.

you chase after him, legs absolutely numb as you attempt to drag your heavy feet across the carpeted floor. oh how quickly your anger dissipates and transforms into a painful sorrow.

“tetsu?” you whisper from behind him. your eyes fall onto the suitcase laid out on the bed, clothes overflowing from it. he hears you, but he doesn’t pause. he continues his fit of rage, walking back and forth from the dresser to throw his belongings into the suitcase. kuroo rummages through the drawers, leaving a mess behind everything he touches, but it didn’t matter at this point.

“don’t do this tetsu. please.” you cry out, hand clutching at the tighteness in your chest that made it difficult to find a breath. you find yourself following his every step, fingers reaching out for his but he dodges your desperation every time.

“why? you were gonna leave me anyway,” he hisses stridently behind his lashes brimming with tears, zipping the last of his stuff away in that little suitcase.

before he can walk through the door of your bedroom, you stop him and place your fists against his chest.

“look at me, tetsu. i love you. please, don’t do this,” you breathe. your hands go up to cup his face, sending shivers down his spine. as the pads of your thumbs delicately wipe away the tear stains, you can almost feel him lean into your touch. and for a moment, that hardened expression softened into the one you had grown to love for years. but it’s gone within seconds and your hands turn cold, missing his warmth.

“i’m only making this easier for you. now you don’t have to go through the pain of choosing, because i think we both know how this ends.” he sighs.

your forlorn whispers grow into desperate pleas for him to stay. but his feet don’t stop until he’s facing the front door, fingers grazing the silver knob that led to an escape from this situation, an escape from what he used to consider his paradise.

“don’t please. kuroo. tetsurou. i love you. don’t leave me.”

your sobs drive you to your knees and you reach for his arm one more time. maybe he’ll stay. maybe he’ll forgive you. maybe he’d still let you be a part of his future. you silently pray over and over, hoping that maybe the heavens could hear you and convince him. and those same thoughts run through kuroo’s mind but the words he was truly seeking for was nowhere to be found.

i won’t leave you.

that’s all he wished you would say. but minutes pass and he thinks it’s hopeless.

so he walks right out your life, just like that. he manages to mutter a sad “i love you too” before shutting the door but it’s far too quiet to be heard and you’re left alone in that empty, desolate apartment.

it’s cold, lacking the warmth that kuroo radiated from his mere presence. it’s dark, deprived of the brightness kuroo cast from his silly jokes and sweet words. so you’re sitting there, back against the door while you wretchedly wrap your arms around that old picture frame. it contained your graduation picture, lips pressed against kuroo’s as the team looks on proudly.

you start to think how funny it is how these memories that once made your heart swell with bliss became the monsters breaking down your very existence.

you’ve memorized every great and minute detail about him, but now you want to lock these up and throw away the key. it’s not out of regret or contempt, but protection against the guilt writhing away at your whole being.

and while you wept relentlessly, tears drenching your cheeks and the weight on your chest expanding, kuroo was lost.

how could the entire premise of his future slip out of his fingertips so easily?

a day ago, kuroo felt like he was on top of the world, basking in the vibrancy you continued to bring into his dull life. an itching sensation blossomed in his heart as he gushed to kenma over the idea of proposing, and of course, his best friend happily encouraged him to.

but within hours, an earthquake had sent tremors through his world. you were his entire foundation, a stabilizing rock against all the raging shakes and storms. but you weren’t his anymore.

without you, he lost the feeling of feeling. black and white darkening his world into nothingness.

[roguesnezblog]

(So I know this RP flopped— but ugh I’m sorry I love these OCs and ugh their untapped potential was bugging me— and I’m a dramallama sooooo yea— needed some happy ending closure (?)💖

Ferghus rapped his knuckles on the door. He giddily bounced on the balls of his feet as he waited for the door to open.

-

Vlaedeus walked quietly into the room, the curtains were drawn but sunlight streamed in, yet not touching the bed or it’s two resting occupants. Mini mountains made entirely of balled up tissues littered the room’s floor. Closing the distance Vlad gently placed his hand on Amadi’s forehead checking his temperature, frowning when he found him hot to the touch.

Amadi stirred at his touch, the coolness of Vlad’s hand feeling nice on Amadi’s heated head.

“...weed-“

Vlad shushed Amadi softly.

“Weedle’s sleeping.”

He’d moved onto his elbows, stopping when he recognized the voice.

“Vlad.”

Amadi said flatly as he laid back down. Reassured there was no need for concern.

Vlad leaned forward and placed a kiss on Amadi’s head. Frowning afterward as he caresses the baldness with is thumb.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.”

“Well it’s a good thing you can’t see that you look like it too,” Vlad said with a weak chuckle.

Amadi moved his lips into a small smile he didn’t feel to acknowledge Vlaedeus’ attempt. Coughing hoarsely after.

Leaning, Vlad grabbed a glass of water off the bedside table. Bringing it over to hold against Amadi’s lips once he’d finished coughing.

“Drink.”

“I’mb not thirs-“

“Drink.”

Too tired to fight Amadi took a small sip. The cool water felt blissful as it slid down his throat. But he was doubling back over with coughs. “This—this is why I didn’t—“

“You need to stay hydrated,” Vlad interrupted Amadi, getting him to take another sip that stopped the fit. Helping him to settle back down after. Tucking the blankets around Amadi as he laid next to Weedle.

-

Ferghus saw the dark bags under Adele’s eyes as soon as she opened the door, but that didn’t stop him from stepping forward to claim her mouth.

Adele had just finished yawning when she opened the door, she barely had time to see that it was Ferghus before he was suddenly kissing her.

“Mm!!”

Ferghus moaned a little when he heard Adele’s sound of pleasure.

Adele pushed at Ferghus’ chest, separating them.

“Ferghus?” She gasped in shock. “What are you doing here?”

Ferghus smiled as Adele moved so he could enter.

“Vlaedeus is running an errand he said he didn’t need me to assist with sooo I thought I’d come visit you while I had some free time.”

Adele went back over to the kitchen where she’d been cutting up vegetables. Taking up the knife to continue her task.

Ferghus frowned when he saw Adele yawn as she went back to work.

“Sorry if I bore you,” he said heatedly.

Adele’s cheeks flushed crimson after she finished another yawn.

“I-I’m sorry,” she said weakly. “I’ve—We’ve all been a bit busy...” her exhaustion making her confess.

“Amadi’s been sick-“

Ferghus rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“And Weedle’s been taking care of him...” Adele covered her mouth with her hand as she paused to yawn again.

-

Vlad didn’t bother checking Weedle’s temperature. The heat radiating off of him had him sweating. Shucking off his cloak and tossing it aside, Vlad gently caressed Weedle’s cheek.

Raising up another glass of water to show, when the King’s eyes opened one at a time. “You need to drink something,” he said softly as he brushed some of Weedle’s hair away from his face.

Weedle blinked tiredly. Vlaedeus blearily coming into focus just as a jolt of irritation stabbed deeply in his sinuses.

Vlad smiled as Weedle’s lips parted.

“HehH!!”

His smile vanished when he heard Weedle’s breath hitch, his nostrils flaring awfully wide. Knowing exactly what was going to happ-

“HIIeSSHIEEEUUhH!!”

Vlad leaned out of the way, barely avoiding being in Weedle’s direct line of fire.

“Bles—“

“HIihH!! UHTCHOOOO!!”

-

Startled, Ferghus jumped from his casual stance against the wall at the loud sneeze. Scurrying over to get behind Adele as he looked nervously at the closed door that lead from the kitchen into the rest of the home. The second sneeze had him ducking even further to hide behind the maid he was courting.

Adele chopped the last of the carrots, dismissing that Ferghus was cowering behind her.

“The fuc-“

“-and now that Amadi’s on the mend, Weedle’s under the weather,” Adele interrupted not entirely ecstatic about cussing.

-

Bending down Vlad pulled out a tissue from a box resting next to Amadi’s head. Dabbing at the mess that ran out of Weedle’s left nostril.

“Bless you,” he finished, having waited just a few more moments to be sure Weedle wasn’t going to sneeze again.

“Amad-“ Weedle rasped out.

“He’s right here,” Vlad assured. Looking down to the man in question, finding his eyelids to be back down again.

“He’s asleep-“

“No. I’m not.” Amadi corrected. His eyes remaining shut as he listened.

“My apologies,” Vlad said with a bow of his head.

“Amadi...” Weedle whimpered. “I’mb sorry.” Tears welling in the corners of his eyes as his hair lightened into a bluish color.

Vlad’s brows raised as he felt his own eyes starting to tear up.

Amadi grunted as his soiled bandages wouldn’t take anymore. Causing the blood to seep beneath and run down his cheeks.

Wiping at Weedle’s tears with his hands,

“Hey, none of that now,” Vlad chided.

“This isn’t your fault, Jenkins said Amadi’s been sick and that he got you sick...”

“Mhmm,” Amadi murmured tiredly in agreement.

A sob slipped passed Weedle’s lips.

-

“Ugh!” Ferghus groaned as he wiped at his eyes.

“This wouldn’t be happening if you would’ve just come to Wyvrmshire. But nooooooo.”

“My duties are here and to attend to my King, Ferghus.” Adele said simply as she stirred the soup she was cooking, wiping her cheeks before her tears could fall into the food.

“And what about your duties to me?” Ferghus pouted.

Adele sighed heavily. Stepping up to Ferghus to give him a small kiss.

“I’ll get to my duties with you-“

Ferghus’ lips curled into a devilish smile as he looked to Adele.

“When I’m done taking care of my King,” Adele finished, grabbing onions off the table behind him and tossing them into the boiling pot. “And seeing to his needs.”

“Thought I was your King,” Ferghus grumbled under his breath.

Adele heard this and snorted.

-

Weedle’s lip quivered slightly but his tears slowly came to a stop and his hair returned to its familiar golden color.

“That’s better,” Vlad praised warmly as he straightened a blanket back over Weedle.

-

“So... if his stooge is sick. Who’s the unlucky soul taking care of YOUR King now that he’s sick?” Ferghus asked curiously.

“We all have,” Adele answered as she placed the lid over the pot to let it simmer and not lose it’s heat as she turned off the stove.

“Weedle was promised a kindness for caring for an ill visitor not too long ago... and Jenkins called out to collect on that promise.”

-

Weedle shivered. The blankets on him barely covering him.

“I-I’ll go get more blankets,” Amadi said as he moved to get up.

“No! No, you relax,” Vlad said as he placed his hands firmly on Amadi’s shoulders to stop him from ascending any further.

Before Amadi could say anything, Vlaedeus shifted. He curled his massive Wyvrm form around Weedle. Fluffing out his turquoise feathered wings to cover Amadi and provide him with warmth too.

Weedle nestled down, snuggling into the warm, smooth scales at his shoulders. Still shivering but the warmth helping immensely.

Amadi itched his finger under his nose as he scooted back to get his face away for the feathers. One of the feathers having already managed to tickle his nose.

“Hih! HgnXt!”

“Bless you,” Vlaedeus said as he slid his head closer to nudge affectionately against Amadi’s.

A slight blush colored Amadi’s cheeks. Part from the cold, and now part because of the affectionate attention.

“Someone’s feeling better,” Vlad purred as he nuzzled his nose against Amadi’s stomach.

Flustered Amadi said nothing.

-

Ferghus frowned as he looked at the bowl of soup he carried, none of it was for him. And it smelled heavenly.

Adele tapped on the door before opening it wide enough for her and Ferghus to enter.

Vlad placed wintery kisses on Weedle’s fevered forehead, pausing to look up when he heard the door creek open more.

“VLAEDEUS!!” Ferghus shouted incredulously.

Adele jumped at the shout, barely managing to keep from dropping the soup bowl she held.

Vlad shushed his Steward just as Adele turned to angrily shush Ferghus.

“What are you doing here?” Ferghus continued. “You said you were out on a task that didn’t need me.”

“And he doesn’t,” Jenkins said as he came up from the long hallway. “And to answer your first question, I asked for his presence here.”

“Good Graces!” Adele jumped sloshing the soup when Jenkins suddenness startled her.

Ferghus clutched Adele’s arm, steadying her.

“Why?”

“Because we took care of him while he was sick, and he promised to repay in kind someday. And with everyone being quite tired from matters that don’t concern you additional help was considered.” Jenkins answered matter of fact.

Ferghus frowned.

Jenkins continued, “Everyone has been going nonstop—“

“I-I can—“ Weedle had been listening and he moved to sit up, but only got so far before coughing.

“No.” Amadi said with a cough as well.

“You need to rest,” Jenkins added.

Weedle opened his tired eyes as much as he could, “-bu-h the peop—“

“I am taking care of everything. What can wait will and what can’t is being taken care of,” Jenkins said confidently.

He wasn’t thrilled but Weedle knew he could rely on Jenkins running things. He settled back and snuggled into Vlad’s warmth.

Controlling the shadows Vlad took and lifted the bowl from Ferghus’ hold to bring forth. Next taking up the spoon in the same manner to then feed the soup to Weedle.

“Once you’re done here Adele I need you to count the inventor—“

“Are you blind?” Ferghus growled at Jenkins. “She is severely sleep deprived! Just look at the dark circles under her eyes!”

Jenkins looked tiredly to Ferghus, his own eyes matching the Cook’s.

“You’re more then welcome to take her place so she could get some sleep,” he offered as he turned on his heel to head back to his office. Not waiting for an answer.

Amadi scoffed. Knowing full well that Ferghus wouldn’t do such a thing.

Ferghus looked to Adele. Her tired gaze meeting his with a hopeful smile.

He frowned. But the memory of him walking alone on that cold night when Weedle ordered him to leave and how she picked him up on her way back from the market, taken him back and convinced Weedle to give him just one more chance and let him stay.

Taking the soup bowl from Adele’s hands he leaned down to place a kiss on her cheek.

“Go get some rest,” he told her.

“No.” Amadi stated.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” Ferghus snapped.

“She’ll rest in here so that you’ll behave,” Amadi hummed. Figuring Ferghus was more likely to act appropriately while Adele was within earshot.

Ferghus’ teeth clenched behind his lips.

“H— hih!”

Hurriedly setting the bowl down on the nightstand he plucked two tissues out of the box and scurried over to where Adele was getting curled up on a couch. With care Ferghus stuffed the dainty squares in her ears.

“HiTSCHEEHHHUUE!!”

Adele smiled with a giggle as Weedle’s loud sneeze was muffled.

“Thank you,” she said as she pressed a kiss to Ferghus’ cringing face.

Ferghus pulled a blanket over Adele before leaving her side to see to her now his duties. Picking up the bowl he strode over to Amadi.

“Can you feed yourself?”

“Yes.” Amadi growled as he sat up. He glared in the direction of Ferghus. But a mere moment later he was weaving and laying back down.

“Not hungry.”

Ferghus snorted. “I’m so sure,” he said sarcastically. “But you need to eat so you can regain your strength.” Filling the spoon with soup, Ferghus blew on it to cool the steaming broth. “Open up.”

With what strength he did have Amadi turned his head away.

“How do I know you didn’t poison it?”

Weedle slurped the soup from the spoon the shade hands held for him as he watched Amadi and Ferghus.

“Because I came here solely for Adele. Had I been prepared for dealing with you—“ Ferghus’ threat being interrupted.

“Ferghus,” Adele drawled in a warning tone.

Sighing, “I wouldn’t dream of ruining anything Adele made. Her cooking is divine and that would be sacrilege.”

1

[wintersxsoul]

Gentle Touch

Summary: Bucky would do anything to protect you, even from himself. But what he never realized is that you didn’t want to be away from him.

Pairing/s: Bucky x Reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Angst, self-loathing, self harm, etc.

A/N: This is my entry for @wxntersoldiers 4k writing challenge, my prompt was a line from one of my favorite songs: I’d probably still adore you with your hands around my neck. Congratulations Layla, you deserve all the love in the world and I love you sooo much. This was a bit hard to write because it kinda hits close to home cause I’m a dumbass like Bucky as well. I hope you enjoy and a reblog would be sooo nice. Love you all.

Taglist and Masterlist are on my bio.

He remembers your soft laugh, how your giggles filled his hollow chest, melting away all the coldness and bitterness inside. Bucky found himself thinking about you more than he should, after all, he was the Winter Soldier, he couldn’t give you what you needed. He was the broken hollow shell of the man he used to be, the man you could have loved.

But he couldn’t be more wrong, because deep down, you loved him as well. Bucky carried his sleep deprived body through empty silent halls every night, the memories of a forgotten past resurfacing when he least expected them too. Sometimes he dreamt about his family, his home in Brooklyn. Memories of a blond scrawny kid laughing, the cushings of the couch on the floor, both of them laughing innocently at something he could not longer remember. Some nights the memories were of war, of his fellow comrades, the Howling Commandos. But most nights he woke up screaming in terror after remembering what HYDRA had done to him, what he had done to humanity for over 50 years. Bucky had awful nights, but he held onto the memories he had of you, all the moments you two shared. He sometimes woke up because he felt your hand holding his, caressing his palm with your fingers, drawing patterns that you knew relaxed him.

Some nights, you found yourself crawling to Bucky’s bed silently, the solitude of your room being too hard to bare. He pretended not to notice that you always drew patterns on his back with your fingertips to soothe you, the warmness of his skin putting you back to sleep. He hated the fact that he needed you to sleep soundly, he needed you close to keep his sanity, to recover his own self again.

The days were better, he was usually sarcastic and funny, always having new witty answers for Sam and Nat, he was himself around Steve and you, he felt like he belonged.

But then the memories flooded his mind, the blood, screams, fire and gunshots he could never shake off him. They were part of who he was and the reason he could never tell you how much he loved you.

Bucky was so in love with you it even hurt to look at you, but he thought that you could never love the Soviet assassin he still was. After spending plenty of sleepless nights, Bucky realized that he had to push you away, he had to for his own sanity. He couldn’t deal with the fact that he had fallen in love with you, the only feeling he couldn’t control, he could not keep at bay. He started slowly, almost unnoticeable to you. He stopped glancing at you from across the room, he stopped himself from daydreaming about your soothing hands on his scarred skin keeping his mind occupied with mission reports, he even started flinching when you brushed your fingers against his. The first time he did that, he saw the deep pain in your eyes, the fear and rejection clouding your watery eyes.

This emotional denial went on for weeks and once Bucky knew he could control himself, he started avoiding you physically. He, of course, knew you too well to know you wouldn’t notice something was up, so he just avoided the places he knew you’d be but still hung out with the rest of the team. Everything was just a sad casualty to you, but for him, it was a very detailed plan he couldn’t fail to follow. He couldn’t fail his mission. Months went by and without noticing, there was an abyss between Bucky and you. When you were at home, he was out on a mission and when he came back, you had to go. Fate was being cruel with you, there was no other logical explanation as why you missed your best friend so much even though you lived three doors apart.

You sighed heavily, pushing your tired and injured body towards your room. It was around 3 AM so the hallway was deadly silent, the only thing that could be heard were your heavy footsteps and your ragged breathing. That’s when you heard it, an anguished cry coming from his room, the deep pain he was feeling froze your heart, the coldness spreading all over your chest. Your legs moved instantly towards his room, all rational thinking thrown aside. You held the doorknob and tried to open it, but it was locked from inside. Something was wrong, why would Bucky lock his door? He was still screaming inside, and since you couldn’t open the door, you called out his name, not caring about the rest of residents at that moment. You cried banging at the door, begging for him to open it so you could help him, but the door stayed closed, the screaming fading into what you understood as sobs. You pressed your forehead against the cool surface, hot tears streaming down your face, the ache in your heart growing stronger every time he let out a loud sob. You pressed your cold hand against his door and whispered “please”, knowing it was just heard by yourself. Bucky stood up and approached the door silently, his heart heavy due to the deep sorrow the nightmare gave him. He pressed his forehead to the door, his flesh hand moving towards a spot in the door, not knowing yours was just there, separated by the wooden door. His nightmares had worsened since he started avoiding you, vivid dreams on how the Winter Soldier killed you, how he killed you. Bucky knew you were still in front of his door, waiting for him to open the door and let you in again, but he couldn’t. You sighed heavily, the pain still fresh on your aching heart, you dropped your hand to your side and took a step back, you had to stop doing this to yourself.

You couldn’t go to the next mission assigned because your body was pushed against its limits on the last one, so Fury told you to stand back and rest. Bucky didn’t know this, so he thought you were out on a mission and one morning, he entered the kitchen and found you there, sipping on your coffee looking like a mess. His heart wrenched at the sight of you, your arms and legs covered in bruises, a deep cut on your lip and your left cheek. You turned around when you felt someone looking at you, your eyes widening when you saw him. He could notice you were fighting back tears and he was sure that if he stayed a minute longer, he would break down right there in front of you.

“Hey, Buck I…” Your voice cracked, your emotions betraying you. You cursed yourself and gulped, trying to contain the pain. Bucky stared at you and shook his head, dismissing your words completely. He turned around and left the room, but before he crossed the door he could hear a soft “wait” coming from your trembling lips. He wiped his tears violently and went to the gym, he needed to let go of his anger towards himself. He couldn’t even ask you why you were so beaten up, who had done that to you, who he had to murder.

He picked up one punching bag after another, sand scattered all over the floor.

“Get your shit together, Barnes” He snarled under his breath, punching relentlessly. “You don’t deserve her.” Punch. Punch. Another punch bag broken, his flesh hand bleeding. He picked another one, placed it in its place, and started all over again.

“You fucking murderer, you really thought you could  have a future.” The tears were blurring his vision, anger and pain filling up his mind. That was the 7th punch bag he broke in the hour he’d been on the training room, knuckles raw and bleeding. You were everything he could think of, how he could’ve avoided you that pain in your last mission. He could’ve ended their misery lives without batting an eye just because they dared to touch you, to harm you with their filthy hands. But, what was the difference between them and him? He growled in anger and turned to leave, but his body stiffened when he saw you staring at him, fear in your eyes. You approached him and stood in front of him, but he stepped aside and marched towards the exit.

“James, I swear if you reach that door, it will be forever.” Your voice was full of anger towards him, surprising the both of you. He turned to look at you, and the look he saw in your face sent a chill down his spine. You looked terrifying. You were wearing your tactical gear but no weapons in sight, the boots giving you more height and presence. Bucky felt small under your gaze, uncertain of what was going on through your mind.

He opened his mouth to speak but you cut him off, tired and angry.

“Shut the fuck, I will do the talking now. You missed the opportunity to explain yourself.” He had never seen you like this, you looked at him in a different way and now he could see why everyone said you had an unbearable cruel gaze in missions. You approached him until you were just a step away from him.

“How dare you push me out like this? How dare you.” You growled, pressing your finger to his chest angrily.

“How dare you abandon me when you needed me the most?” He stared at you in shock, his expression falling with every word you let out.

“You think I didn’t hear you every fucking night? You think I didn’t suffer with you?” You pressed both of your hands to his chest, curling them into fists, the soft material of his shirt and the heaving of his chest soothing you, the anger slowly dissipating and turning into sorrow. Your grip loosened but you kept your palms pressed against him.

“Why, Bucky?” You looked at his ocean eyes filled with tears, threatening to fall, probably mirroring your own. He moved his hands slowly and grabbed your wrists softly.

“You don’t deserve this.” His voice trembled, it was full of regret, sorrow, fear. You frowned and nodded, not truly understanding what he meant, You went to move your hands to back away but he tightened his grip a bit to make you see he didn’t want you to move. “You don’t deserve to suffer with me, you don’t deserve the heavy burden I carry.”

“What?” Your eyes widened and you felt his grip loosen so you moved a hand to your own chest, clutching it tight, trying to make his words sink in even deeper. Before you could say or do anything else, he let go of your hands and stepped back.

“Can’t you see that I’d probably still adore you with your hands around my neck?” Realization hit you like a truck, because his words meant something more strong than love. After all he had suffered, all the physical and emotional pain he’d been through, he still trusted you not to hurt him, he still loved you that deeply. Because that statement, that single statement, meant he loved you as well.

“Buck…” He looked at you, his gaze full of love and adoration, and you knew that whatever you said now, would never make justice to what you felt. “If I could rip my heart out and give it to you as a proof of my love, I would.”

He approached you and cupped your face with his metal arm, the coldness contrasting with the warm gesture. You leaned into his touch and looked at him lovingly. He whispered “say it” softly and before you could finish saying the three words, his lips were on yours. With that kiss, you both tried to pour all your love and affection, all the agony and misery forgotten and forgiven. Bucky was worth of your heart and soul and you were worth of his.

[ignaziosearring]

I have a request that isn't xmas or new year's eve themed (it can be tho) it's about the song El Reloj, it is a beautiful song that I love so much from the boys. It is in Spanish so I don't know if it is possible. I like your imagines very much!! Specially the Ignazio ones🙈

This is not where i explain why i have been so silent over the past few months. This is where i announce that I’VE MISSED YOU GUYS SO MUCH AND I’VE MISSED WRITING SOOO MUCH! Hopefully, I’ll be much more active from now on as i try to balance everything with uni.

I have been writing this story for about 4 months, going on and off, deleting and starting again. It’s *too* long, like 1600ish long, but i think it needed this length. The topic is a *bit* dramatic (trigger warning), bc you know me😇. Also please allow me to dedicate it to my uncle who passed away on Sunday bc of cancer.

I’M BACK PEOPLE PASS IT ON! LIKE/REBLOG/COMMENT!

Xx

~•~

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

The transparent liquid was falling in drops from the IV bag to a small cylinder. The drops were synchronized with the shrill beeping sound coming from the heart monitor. The door opened and let a cold breeze sweep inside the room. It took a worryingly high amount of energy to lift my hands and rub my arms. It took more time too. The bones felt heavy and numb. The side effects of morphine. At least the pain was bearable, even for the ultimate hours.

“Are you cold?”

Gianluca had come inside. The glass window reflected his tired figure. His eyes were red and swollen, a sign he had been crying again. Before reaching this stage I would have thought this as an oxymoron. Gianluca was healthy, young and beautiful. He would live a long and happy life. He wasn’t dependent on anyone or anything. He wasn’t in constant and unstoppable pain. He wasn’t counting down the remaining months, days, hours. He didn’t see the last glimmers of hope wash away in one frown of a doctor. Yet he was the one crying.

“Let me cover you.”

His moves were careful and balanced, as always.

“They’re trying to tackle the heat wave with the air conditioning.”

Smalltalk. He was poorly attempting -and failing- to avoid the issue that had risen a barrier between us the past two weeks. He wouldn’t even look me in the eyes. I observed him carefully in silence. His body was tense as he sat down on the chair beside me.

Then, I turned my head to the window again and were confronted with my miserable reality. A body that was fighting itself. Flesh ashen, paler than a ghost, lanced here and there for various medical exams, hanging on bones. A red scarf was covering the bald head. Soul and mind twisted by a sickness that had come all too quickly to end a life in its blooming days. I couldn’t recognize myself in that reflection. I was long gone. The word “terminal” had been vibrating in my ears and hunting me in my nightmares every night.

“There’s no moon tonight. Only the stars.”

He too had turned his gaze to the window. I glanced at the sky and realized that stars would start falling soon. That special night of every year. The magnificent phenomenon that ten years ago had become the reason we had met.

“Gian.”

Our eyes met momentarily for the first time in a long while.

“Don’t do it.”

“Do what?”

“Wish that the medicine won’t work.”

His initial surprise was replaced by guilt.

“You haven’t made peace with my decision, Gian.”

I wasn’t angry, on the contrary I was smiling understandingly at him.

“Wha- why do you say that?”

He was stuttering and nervously running his fingers through his hair, like a young boy caught doing a mischief.

“You were crying, you can’t stand looking at me for more than two seconds and you’re trying to avoid talking about it by making damn smalltalk. You are angry.”

The outburst that followed was exactly what I was hoping for. I knew him better than anyone, he always bottled up his feelings and let them torment him. I didn’t want to leave him in anger along with everything else.

He jumped up and kicked his chair hard, fresh tears already visible.

“Of course I’m angry! Tonight I have to say goodbye to the love of my life! I’m angry at God, the universe or whatever it is that is out there. How can they be so cruel? Who gave them the right to do this to you? To us? It shouldn’t have been like that. We should have been old, very old, with grandchildren or even great grandchildren. You are too young to die.”

The raised voice and rapid flow of speech, the spitting of words gave their place to a sorrowful whisper.

“It’s too soon to say goodbye.”

He had slid down the door and had folded his body, his face buried in his hands.

“Gian, I know it’s not only that you are angry with. Say it. It will liberate you. It will liberate me.”

He raised his face slowly and gazed at me. His look was filled with regret, wrath, sorrow, pain. His lips were pouted.

“No.”

His answer was firm now.

“I don’t want to fight in our last day.”

“And I don’t want to go without making things right between us.”

A piercing look was enough to convince him to sit again beside me.

“What do you want me to say? That I’m angry at you? Yes, (y/n), I am angry at you, here, you have it. You, you gave up. On yourself, on our relationship, on me.”

“I didn’t. I am not giving up right now. This medicine is not giving up”, I pointed at the IV.

“If I had given up we would have been having this conversation 6 months ago. I didn’t give up when the doctor said terminal, nor when he said that all I had left was eight painful, excruciating, humiliating, inhumane months. I didn’t give up when the first clinical trial you managed to get me on failed. Nor the second, the third, the forth. I didn’t give up even though the only thing I gained from those trials was more pain, all while losing my mind cell by cell. I did it for you. I saw the determination in your expression to prove the doctors wrong, the sleep deprived eyes that had spent innumerable nights going through research by research, the contacts with pioneer oncologists from all around the world to get me on their trials or suggest a different, more promising medical plan.”

Speaking for that long was exhausting and made me burst into coughs. His look softened and became worried as he gave me some water.

“Then why are you doing this now? Even if we couldn’t get you on another clinical trial, we would still have two months, just the two of us. We would go home, spend those two months together. We would have more time!”

His voice came out as an exasperated whisper. One last hopeless beg.

“We wouldn’t.”

I was firm. I looked him in the eyes and finally spoke my truth.

“You need to understand Gian. This is not me. This is not the (y/n) you met, fell in love with and married.”

He tried to stop me but I raised my palm firmly and continued decisively.

“I can’t even bear to look at my reflection on the window. And when I do, when I do I can barely recognize myself in there. Do you think it’s easy for me? Don’t you think I want more time? I wanted to grow old with you and bear your children. I wanted to achieve all the dreams I had ever since I can remember myself. God knows how hard I wish for more time. Even when I signed that paper. Even now. But not like this. This is something I can’t keep going through.”

“(Y/n)…”

He burst iinto tears. The body mechanism to get one’s pain roll down and wipe away. I started crying too. He understood. I knew he understood, otherwise he wouldn’t have let himself pull apart in front of me. He knew I had to do it.

“It’s better this way Gian. I know it’s already painful enough for you to see me wash away all these months. This will save you at least some pain. You’ll see me go down sane enough. A good comander knows when they’ve lost the war, isn’t this what they’re saying?”

He chuckled and took a deep breath to gain his composure.

“Come here lay beside me.”

We laid on our sides and hungrily looked each other in the eyes. Our sobs were quieting down.

“Gian”, i began, “I want you to promise me something.”

His expression darkened again.

“Don’t say it.”

“Listen to me. I know it hurts but you need to. After tonight you’ll be alone. I don’t want grief to blind you. Take your time to cry, to unleash the emotions that are meddling with your mind. But don’t waste this gift you were so graciously given. Don’t let your life perish. Live Gian. Do you remember my favourite movie?”

“Dead poets’ society…”

“Professor Keating fought to teach those children to seize the day, Gian. All the nights I couldn’t sleep because of the pain I’d go back in time and realise that i let so many days go by in vain. Our worst sin is that we think we are immortal. We always think there will be enough time to do everything we want, someday. But there comes a time that you are faced with the fact that you can’t. It’s too late. The clock is running out of battery and will stop ticking soon. All you have accomplished seems too little, all your dreams become missed opportunities, just because you thought you would achieve them later. There is no «later», Gian, only «now».”

I touched his cheek where a tear was rolling down.

“Don’t let my memory hunt you. Remember me with love, treasure our moments, but move on.”

“I… I can’t,” he mumbled, looking away, “you are the one for me.”

“I can’t be, Gian. You are the one for me, but I’m not. Otherwise this wouldn’t be happening. Somewhere out there is a very lucky girl that will capture your heart. And I will be more than happy when you meet her.”

He closed his eyes tightly to fight his tears.

“Don’t die with me tonight, Gian. Just promise me this.”

He didn’t say anything. He just nodded with his eyes still closed.

For me, it was enough.

He hugged me and helped me turn around. Like the past 10 years, we looked at the exploding stars leaving their last mark on the universe. I made one wish. I felt free. And then…

Salvation.