How much would you pay to be touched
in the right way? Who would you think of
with your hands on some bed like an animal
and haven’t we all been here,
walking through the world
waiting for someone to free us
or tie us to ourselves.
People are dying, yes
despite all our knowledge.
Regardless of touch, what we own,
everything we continue to steal.
Everyone and their miniature triumphs.
No, they can’t convince me love isn’t
our best invention. And why
I went into the ice to swallow more
than my body had room for.
Even afraid I opened my mouth
and I swallowed. I took it all down.
I was made by the cold.
— Alex Dimitrov, from “February,” in Love and Other Poems
Truly it is impossible for me to overstate how much power it didn't work out, and I wanted it to work has over me as a lyric.
shoutout to winter ( @undrowns ) for inspiring this monster of a oneshot. also jet and tida do not belong to me; they belong to their genius and wonderful creator, winter!
aka the first time calum had sex after mana’s passing.
Calum doesn’t quite remember how it started, him and Jet, fucking.
Okay, so maybe that’s a lie. Jet was the one who kissed him first, leaned in first before biting for entry into his mouth, all teeth and tongue. So in all technicalities, Jet started this, but then again, Calum’s the one who let him into the apartment and then his room in the first place. It’s all been a haze though, this past month- a blur consisting of the hospital, home, cooking, Erza waiting for him, always, and then a revolving door of faces, coming in and out of the apartment, all of them ranging from pitying to sympathetic, none of them the one he needs the most.
Sometimes when he’s out on the street, he looks for her. The back of a short dark-haired woman. Red lipstick on another woman’s lips- Calum can’t help it. Can’t help but let his heart speed up because maybe this was all just one terrible dream he’s having. She’s out there and he just has to find her.
( He’ll always look to her, Calum realizes. He did it in the past, why should it be any different now. )
And then he realizes it’s not her. The hope gets squashed as the numbness returns, even more pronounced than before.
He learns quickly if it’s not for work, groceries, or for taking Erza to daycare, it’s better to stay at home. But then again, their ( but now it’s just his ) apartment doesn’t serve much better as refuge, not when every corner, every space is filled to the brim with memories. In the future, he’ll take comfort in them, but right now? They’re needles carelessly pricked into the arm, like the first time he tried inserting a needle into the vein of a human dummy. He kept on missing and his rotation instructor reminded the class it hurts the patient more if you don’t prick the vein on the first try.
The only place in the entire apartment he’s safe from the memories is the bed when he’s sleeping. At least when he’s sleeping he doesn’t have to think about her, the memories, the fact she’s not here, she’s not anywhere to be found, and it’s his fault, it’s all his fault-
But these days, even when Calum’s not sleeping, he spends most of his time in bed anyway. It’s been harder again, these days, doing just about anything, including getting out of bed, taking a shower, brushing his teeth. The dishes have started to pile in the sink too and he knows this is how it’s getting bad again, his depression and he needs to pull himself together. Erza needs him and it shouldn’t have to take Erza telling him he’s hungry for Calum to finally summon the energy to get out of bed.
The thing is, he’s starting to care less. Less and less.
It scares him.
So it was a miracle then, that he managed to open the door for Jet Chiang. He doesn’t actually know much about him, save from the anecdotes that Tida has dropped on him. Technically, Calum could’ve asked Keo for a more accurate understanding, but he never got around too. Not one to poke around at what is obviously a sore spot for Tida. Calum has more than enough of his own anyways.
He vaguely recalled seeing him at her funeral too. Jet had been dressed a tad more casually than the rest of the attendees. He was dressed the same way in front of Calum’s doors and this time, Calum really couldn’t gloss over the scarring all over his arms but more of the fact, his arms are…toned. The tight shirt Jet wore left little to the imagination either. For a moment, Calum blinked owlishly. He felt the blood rush to below his waist before he swallowed. Chastising himself for so many reasons- thinking with his dick for a moment there, noticing that his friend’s ( negligent ) dad, but more importantly someone else who is not Mana, is attractive, looking slovenly for a guest, and so many other reasons-
He rubbed one side of his face, the whiskers prick his palms. He hasn’t shaved in a few days either. “Can you…can you give me a few minutes?”
A few minutes turned into something more like fifteen with Calum stumbling around the apartment picking up empty ( water ) bottles, Erza’s toys and dishes and washing some of the dirty ones, never mind the days’ old food bits gathering in the drain, before finally pulling on clothing that doesn’t reek, combing his hair and brushing his teeth.
He didn’t have the time to shave though.
Not that, he thought Jet would actually notice, let alone care about how he looked or how the rest of the apartment looked. Jet said something along the lines of figuring he should check in on Calum and also how is he doing? Calum smiled, or at least the best he can. This isn’t the first time he’s been asked such words.
“I’m okay,” Calum told him. “Do you, I mean would you like anything to uh, drink?”
Jet asked for a beer, which interestingly though, Calum happened to have one or two of. He doesn’t drink much to begin with these days and Mana always preferred a wine although they had seldom pulled that out with Erza in the picture.
And then Jet finally got down to the crux of his visit. Or at least that Calum assumes it’s supposed to be.
Calum knew from word of mouth that Jet too, lost his wife. An inference made when Tida once mentioned offhandedly his mom died when was younger. But then Jet gives him the full story although their marriages couldn't be possibly more different, it all boils down to the same set of emotions: grief, longing, and guilt. Wondering why the people around them keep dying or suffering, if it’s their fault for existing in the first place. Guilt that maybe, just maybe if they weren’t around, their wives would be…alive. Maybe a little unhappier, but alive nevertheless.
Better alive than this…suffering. And for what reason?
Voicing them if only through mere agreement doesn’t make the thoughts any easier to carry. And yet, he can’t help but find comfort in that he isn’t the only one whom these thoughts plague.
( A pang of guilt twinged in his chest though- of all the people who would understand, why does it have to be Jet? Why does it have to be Tida’s father when Tida is the one who has been giving support without Calum asking- Tida with his hovering. Tida with his seemingly endless supply of tissues and water. Tida and the way he strangely has stayed in one spot for this past month even though Calum knows he’s restless by nature, not one to stay in one place for long. Doesn’t he have his own grief to deal with? And about his wife’s grief and Keo’s- )
This is why then, when Jet kisses him, Calum lets him. It’s a shock at first- the last person he’s kissed this way was his wife- but then he can’t help but lean into it, moaning when Jet bites down on his lip for entrance because it’s something different. Something different from the all-consuming numbness that he knows will return once Jet leaves.
As they stumble into his room, Calum working to undo the belt around Jet’s waist and Jet ripping through the buttons of Calum’s shirt, something in the back of his mind protests. What is Tida going to think?
Jet pushes Calum down on his bed ( the bed he shared with her – what kind of husband is he, inviting a stranger into his bed, only a month following her passing? He can’t help but picture her frowning, angry even, watching from the afterlife- ) and next thing Calum is aware, he’s facedown against his sheets as Jet fucks into him, hips slamming against his behind over and over again at a harsh pace. It’s rough, painful, and there’s nothing romantic about it, but in a way, Calum can’t help but find relief in it. Solidarity in another person. Punishment for fucking his friend’s father and someone who isn’t Mana so soon-
He lets out a shaky breath as a hand shoves him down so he’s flat against his mattress and he groans when the hand remains steady on the small of his back. Jet bites into his neck, tangling his other hand into Calum’s hair and Calum can’t help but curse as the pace picks up and the need to cum pools in his groin. He grips the sheets beneath him tighter.
He’ll worry about that later. For now, he asks whatever higher being is watching, just let him have this.
⁽ ❅ ⁾ ‣ visage. ― ❛ a gentle heart must remain frozen to bring change. ❜
⁽ ❅ ⁾ ‣ headcanons. ― ❛ the story longs for the fall of a midnight snow. ❜
⁽ ❅ ⁾ ‣ musings. ― ❛ await for my requiem’s last winter song before drowning in spring. ❜
⁽ ❅ ⁾ ‣ music. ― ❛ the whispers of the snowland’s core. ❜
⁽ ❅ ⁾ ‣ wardrobe. ― ❛ appear before your subject as her imperial majesty. ❜
⁽ ❅ ⁾ ‣ mannerism. ― ❛ atone for the sins of the past through elegance of your rule. ❜
⁽ ❅ ⁾ ‣ skills. ― ❛ when error strikes you must stand up twice; when it hits and when it passes. ❜
⁽ ❅ ⁾ ‣ starter call. ― ❛ you’ve been granted an audience with the tsaritsa. ❜
⁽ ❅ ⁾ ‣ inbox call. ― ❛ you must respond to her call. ❜
⁽ ❅ ⁾ ‣ plotting call. ― ❛ the plan to rebel must be carried out. ❜
⁽ ❅ ⁾ ‣ in character. ― ❛ snowstorm’s pained voice rings within your head as snowflakes melt. ❜
⁽ ❅ ⁾ ‣ crack. ― ❛ barbatos is not allowed. ❜
⁽ ❅ ⁾ ‣ wishlist. ― ❛ longing for a blessed future. ❜
⁽ ❅ ⁾ ‣ ship musings. ― ❛ when the old world burns away promise you’ll be there to start it anew. ❜
⁽ ❅ ⁾ ‣ aesthetics. ― ❛ within deep forests echoes the swan lake’s last song. ❜
⁽ ❅ ⁾ ‣ memes. ― ❛ the bringers of what was long lost. ❜
⁽ ❅ ⁾ ‣ open. ― ❛ witness her before the destined fall. ❜
⁽ ❅ ⁾ ‣ out of character.
ship tags for @boundariestcbreak/ @invernc/ @mvstbcbrave/ @stormflowerhonor
lucky strike: #(invernc) STANDING WHERE THE LIGHTNING STRIKES I KNOW THIS DOESNT HAPPEN TWICE ;; clover and winter
clover and robyn: #(boundariestcbreak) WHAT IF WE REWRITE THE STARS? SAY YOU WERE MADE TO BE MINE ;; clover and robyn
ironwitch: (boundariestcbreak) ALL THE STARS WE STEAL FROM THE NIGHT SKY WILL NEVER BE ENOUGH ;; james and glynda
ozglyn: (boundariestcbreak) YOU SET OFF A DREAM IN ME ;; ozpin and glynda
phoenix: #(boundariestcbreak) THOUGH SHES ALREADY FLOWN SO FAR BEYOND MY REACH SHES NEVER OUT OF SIGHT ;; taiyang and raven
vine and elm: #(boundariestcbreak) I WANNA WAKE UP WITH YOU ALL IN TANGLES ;; vine and elm
warbird: #(boundariestcbreak) IT ISNT THE LOVE OF A HERO AND THATS WHY I FEAR IT WONT DO ;; james and raven
seamista: #(mvstbcbrave) MY HEART NEVER STOPS BEATING FOR YOU ;; sea hawk and mermista
renora: #(stormflowerhonor) NOTHING I COULDNT DO NOT WITH YOU BY MY SIDE ;; nora and ren
blue jeans ; bucky barnes.
based on blue jeans - lana del rey !!
pairing ; bucky barnes x shield agent!gn!reader
synopsis ; four instances you managed to chip away at bucky's icy heart before he realized he was in love with you.
words ; 3.6k
themes ; fluff, action, slight angst, s2l/f2l, shield agent au
warnings / includes ; sparring in the first scene, mild injuries, mentions of death, alludes to insomnia/difficulty sleeping, tony throws a party, hints at steve/natasha, one sexual innuendo, bucky experiences *gasp* emotions, bucky doesn't understand references bcs he's older than your grandparents
a/n ; for @fairydxll's 2k writing event :D
blue jeans, white shirt
walked into the room, you know you made my eyes burn
it was like james dean, for sure
you're so fresh to death and sick as ca-cancer
The first time you met Bucky, you were drenched in your own sweat, grunts of exertion falling from your lips as you ducked and rolled away from Natasha’s quick strikes. You were doing pretty well today, managing to evade her offensive strategies in your effort to get her to tire herself out. She was starting to get worn down, you could see it in the soft blue of her irises. The plan was working considerably until…
Well, until Bucky Barnes strode into the training room. Steve was by his side, wearing his Captain uniform, and you absentmindedly wondered if there was a mission you somehow managed to forget about.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Natasha jolted forward, landing a solid blow to your jaw, which made your head snap sharply to the side. She tackled you with a derisive huff, your body slamming firmly against the cushioned grounds of the sparring ring. Her knee hovered over you throat, and she tilted her head at you, a smirk curling at her mouth.
“Dead,” she said flippantly, before rolling off of you, clasping your hand to haul you back up.
The ceiling came into view as you rolled your eyes, despite the grin forming across your exerted features. Gingerly, you rubbed your sore jaw with a dark chuckle, shooting her a playful scowl. “I had that coming.”
“Nat,” Steve called out from across the room. The two of you turned to face the pair of super soldiers. The blonde sent you an apologetic look. “Sorry for interrupting, but could I borrow you for a second? It’s about what happened in Chicago.”
What happened in Chicago?
You sent Natasha a curious glance, but she only shook her head, as if to say I’ll tell you later.
She clapped your shoulder in good nature, before ducking underneath the sparring barriers, following Steve out the same way he came in.
That left just you and Bucky. You suddenly felt awkward, fiddling with the bandages over your knuckles. You’ve never come face to face with the Winter Soldier before. The most you’ve heard were stories and rumors that spread like wildfire through the compound. Some were quite outlandish, but you couldn’t help but listen. The man kept to himself, usually confined to his quarters or out on long, long classified missions with Steve or Sam. He was a mystery, and you prided yourself on being a rather good detective.
What you did know about him, was the fact that he was accredited to over a hundred kills during his time with Hydra. One of the most notorious killers of all time.
And he waved at you.
You had to blink twice before you realized that you had to respond in some way. Two fingers raised to your forehead as you awkwardly saluted him.
Jesus, he might’ve been from the forties, but really? Did you just salute him?
Despite your inner turmoil, a slight grin flitted over his lips.
Desperate to break the silence, you asked without thinking twice about it, “Do you… do you wanna spar?” If your muscles weren’t frozen in trepidation, you would’ve face palmed. You might’ve been a good fighter, but against the Bucky Barnes? You didn’t stand a chance. Sending him another furtive glance, it finally dawned on you that he was wearing jeans. “Oh, I mean, you don’t have to if you’re not dressed for it. I was—”
“Sure,” Bucky said, shrugging. “I’ve fought in worse.”
He strode closer, swinging onto the sparring platform.
Your heart was beating irregularly quickly, and you had to suck in a few deep breaths to steady your pulse.
Bucky raised his hands tentatively, and the two of you began circling each other. This close, you could see the deep blue of his eyes, the shadow of a stubble gracing his sharp jaw, the haunted bags beneath his eyes. There were small things you noticed about his stance. Bucky favored his right side, which was quite ironic, considering he had a vibranium left arm. Though he had a heavier build, he was expertly bouncing on the balls of his feet, ready to strike forward at any given second. But he was slightly drawn back, and that was how you knew he had no plans of going on the offensive any time soon.
Narrowing your eyes, you darted forward, swinging a hit to his face. To your expectation, he easily blocked your blow, moving to the side swiftly. You were quick to follow the hit with a kick to the chest, which he let you land, and he staggered backwards a couple paces.
He was going easy on you.
With clenched teeth, you drew forward and struck his side, followed by a roundhouse punch to his shoulder. The impact made him falter, so you hooked your foot over the crook of his knee and yanked him back, which made him fall back with a grunt.
There was a smile to his winded features. God damn it.
“You’re holding back on me,” you said, panting slightly, backing away from him. “Don’t think I didn’t notice.”
That pretty smile of his warbled subtly. “I’m sorry. Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. You wanna go again?”
“Nah,” you breathed out, clasping your hands together behind your head, stretching with a mild grimace. “I promised Tony I’d look over the mission debriefs. Think we could pick this up another time?”
Bucky pushed himself up from the ground, running his flesh hand through his close-cropped hair. Jesus Christ, could he just stop being attractive for one damned second?
“Sure. I’ll look forward to it.”
You nodded once. “It’s a date,” you said stoutly, before ducking beneath the sparring ring’s barrier and striding out of the training room with a heart that slammed far too erratically against your ribcage—and you highly doubted it was because of physical exertion.
you were sorta punk rock, i grew up on hip hop
but you fit me better than my favorite sweater, and i know
that love is mean (oh oh) and love hurts (oh oh)
but I still remember that day we met in december, oh baby
It was late, and you definitely should’ve been sleeping by now.
But, alas, your eyes stayed open and your mind ran rampant with such horrid irrationalism that you tore the blankets away from you, clambered out of your bed in a rush, and strode out of your room as quietly as you possibly could. A quick glance to the clock hanging in the hallway told you that it was nearing three in the morning, and a heavy sigh fell from your lips. You shuffled towards the living room, curling into the corner of the plush sofa and turning on the television, placing it on the lowest volume so it wouldn’t awaken the others.
The screen cast a dull blue glow onto you, playing some old Christmas movie you couldn’t recall the name of, and you placed your head against the armrest, eyes hooded with fatigue.
Much to your surprise, Bucky came out not too long after, rubbing his own eyes sleepily. His hair was disheveled, sleep shirt stretched taut over the muscles of his torso.
“Sorry, did I wake you?” you winced, propping yourself up on one arm.
He was quick to shake his head. “No, no, it wasn’t you. Why’re you up?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” you replied cautiously.
The two of you stared at each other for a good minute before he shook his head with a hoarse chuckle, sitting himself down on the sofa, not too far away from you. Hesitance splayed over your features evidently, but you eased yourself back into the seat and turned your attention towards the television.
You fell asleep to the faint sound of Christmas music and the feeling of Bucky’s arms wrapping over you when your forehead accidentally landed onto his chest. Not that he minded much—he rather liked the way you fit perfectly into him.
The following morning, Tony was the first to stride out, pleasantly surprised to see the two of you sleeping on the couch peacefully, limbs entangled to no return. It was safe to say that he took enough pictures to blackmail the two of you for a lifetime.
i will love you 'til the end of time
i would wait a million years
promise you'll remember that you're mine
baby, can you see through the tears?
Tony’s parties were a grand spectacle you had the joy of being invited to every year. He claimed it was because he thought you were a fun drunk, but you had a sneaking suspicion that Tony was starting to see you more and more as a close friend—though you presumed he wouldn’t ever admit it.
This year, you appeared in a dark, red velvet suit, crisp white button-up visible just beneath the jacket. The party was already in full swing, music reverberating pleasantly through the room and people milling about with wide smiles and flutes of golden champagne.
You weaved your way through, stopping to greet Natasha and Steve with a flourish, clapping the burly super soldier on the shoulder and bumping your fist playfully against the ex-red room assassin. The both of them wore a deep hue of green today, unintentionally coordinating outfits—even though they were quite the oblivious pair to one another’s feelings, you thought they’d be quite the attractive couple, both in the physical and metaphorical sense.
As Natasha recounted some story of the time Tony messed up one of her missions, your gaze drifted over to the bar, where you saw Sam and Bucky bickering quietly—the former having a wide grin splayed over his lips and the latter wearing a glowering scowl, carding his vibranium arm through his close-cropped hair. The action led you to notice that he had a small red ribbon tied around the metal limb, and you could feel an amused grin tilt at the corner of your glossed lips.
The party drew on—you were whisked away by a handful of your colleagues to play catch up just around a dozen times. It would be quite the understatement to say you were enjoying yourself. Thor’s boisterous laughter seemed to rumble the very ground, Clint challenged you to a game of ‘I bet you can’t flick this olive into that guy’s drink’, and Maria mixed up your drinks for you with surprising ease, sending you a wink when you asked for your fifth sugary beverage in a row. Tony had joined you at one point, nearly black-out drunk, and you had to prop your arm beneath his forehead before he could face-plant against the counter.
A lot happened in such a short span of time, you found yourself bee-lining for the balcony when you gulped down your sixth glass, in need of some fresh air. Outside, the music dampened to a faint echo of its volume inside, and the quiet warped over you like a cold blanket. You sighed in mild relief, rubbing at your sore cheeks gingerly—you weren’t used to smiling this much in just one night.
When the balcony doors squeaked as they gave way for someone else, you looked over your shoulder, eyebrows quirking upwards upon seeing none other than James Buchanan Barnes.
“I’m surprised to see you,” you said quietly. “Didn’t think parties were your forte.”
The suit he wore was a rich shade of navy blue, bringing out the juxtaposing lightness of his irises. That stubble you liked far more than you’d admit brought out the sharpness of his features, giving him a rough edge you knew countered with his tentative and soft personality. You glanced down at the red ribbon tied around his metal bicep, grinning gently.
“Sam forced me to come,” he replied dismissively, moving forward to stand next to you. Awkwardly, he cleared his throat—this close, you could see the subtle flush of rouge creep over his skin. “You look great. Really great.”
A warm sensation flooded your chest and your nose wrinkled as you looked towards him in muted delight. “You look good, too, Bucky. Blue really is your color.”
Bucky rather liked the way he could see the stars in your eyes.
After a considerably lengthy period of ponderous silence, you quietly asked, “Why haven’t you been let out for any public missions? It's all hidden underground stuff you do. You’re an Avenger like the rest of us.”
The fond smile that once graced his mouth melted away at an instant, replaced by the harsh framing of an uncomfortable slant. You immediately regretted asking the question, about to tell him that it was alright if he didn’t want to answer before he cut you to the chase and said, “You know why.”
Disappointment unfurled within your ribcage, like a roll of paper stretched taut. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do.” You weren’t quite sure what had come over you, so you wrapped your hand over the coldness of his vibranium wrist, clutching it tightly and watching him with keen eyes. “You don’t deserve any of this, for the record. I hope you know that, Bucky. You deserve the entire world and I hope people start to look past the actions of someone you were also a victim to.”
Bucky had so much he wanted to say, but the words were lodged in his throat. He found himself nodding to your words, allowing a meek smile to crack through his stony disposition. No more words needed to be said, and the two of you parted ways with the sort of comforting silence that could be shared with only people who’ve seen too much for a single lifetime.
love you more
than those bitches before
say you'll remember (oh baby) say you'll remember, oh baby ooh
i will love you 'til the end of time
Rumors spread around the compound rather quickly. You had just come back from a rather rough mission, dropping your long-range firearms into the storage room when you heard two other agents gossiping feverishly in the corner. Knowing it was none of your business, you quickly put away your weapons and strode out, but you couldn’t help overhearing Bucky’s name being thrown out between the two. Curiosity getting the better of you, you pressed yourself against the wall and listened just enough for you to catch what they were discussing.
He went on a date. And not just any regular date. The first one in decades.
Blinking in mild shock, you made your way to your quarters, yearning to wash off all the blood and dirt that rendered your skin sticky and uncomfortable.
It wasn’t until the late hours of the night you bumped into the super soldier in the kitchen. You were washing your dirty dishes from a couple hours ago when you made dinner for yourself, sighing in annoyance at the dried leftovers that clung to the ceramics.
“What’s the point of living in a multimillion dollar compound if there’s no fancy tech to wash my dishes for me?” you hissed scathingly under your breath, using your shoulder to knock away a stray piece of hair that fell over your eyes. “Stupid broken dishwasher. Didn’t Tony say he’d get that looked at a week ago? Bet he completely forgot.”
Your grumbling was interrupted when you heard the fridge door open. Pivoting by the waist to see who it was, a string of colorful curses fell from your lips when soap suds dribbled from your arms and all over your shirt, iridescent bubbles now lining your pajamas.
“Seems like you’re having a bad day,” Bucky said from the fridge, now moving towards the cupboards to grab a glass for the carton of orange juice in his hands. “Can’t say I’m better off, though.”
“Yeah?” you asked with an amused edge, quickly turning back around to rinse off your soapy hands and dishes. Ripping off a kitchen towel to dab at the soap on your shirt, you glanced back up at him. “Heard you had a date.”
Bucky shifted uncomfortably. It was only then that you realized that he was still wearing a crisp suit—no doubt he had just come back fresh from his night out. “It, uhm, didn’t go so well.”
“Sorry to hear that, Bucky.” Sensing that he’d rather be talking about literally anything else, you nodded once and swiftly changed the subject. “I was just about to start a new show. You’re welcome to join if you’d like.”
The tired glint to his eyes seemed to wane away as he shot you a grateful beam. “That sounds amazing, honestly. I could use the distraction.”
It was certainly a strange sight—a SHIELD agent in a poorly-dried soapy shirt sitting beside one of the most famous ex-assassins in the world, who just so happened to be wearing a fancy date suit. You turned on the TV wordlessly, lips only faintly twitching upwards when he settled into his seat further, flesh arm coming round over the back of the couch to land over your shoulders, tugging you into his side.
“You are ridiculously wet right now,” he commented with all but a straight face, eyes flickering down to your still-damp shirt and hands, which made you snort unattractively.
“Gee, Bucky. Didn’t know we were at that stage yet.”
The super soldier appeared affronted for a moment at what you were implying before he quickly began backtracking, “I didn’t—I wasn’t—!”
“I know,” you chuckled, patting his knee consolingly. Then, you turned your attention back to the screen. “I hope you don’t mind animated shows.”
“You kidding me? I was a huge fan in the forties. Snow White was all the rage back then,” Bucky hummed, fingers flexing experimentally on your bicep. It took all you had in you not to preen with delight at how comfortable he was with physical touch with you, so you settled on tucking your knees up to your chest and shuffling even closer to him.
A brilliant smile spread over your features. “I love it when you talk about the forties. It’s like I’m looking through a window of your life before… before everything,” you said quietly before shifting about one last time to make yourself more comfortable.
The episode was brightly colorful, exuberant in both visuals and dialogue. He often found himself in awe at the wonderful animation and spectacular voice acting, enthralled whenever you made small comments on the plot—something he knew you were just doing to subtly check if he was enjoying himself as well.
One gripe he did have, however, was the fact that there were far too many jokes and references that Bucky couldn’t really understand. At first, he didn’t want to ask you because you seemed to be enjoying yourself—but after the first few, you seemed to realize that he wasn’t catching on and from then you’d pause the show to quickly explain some of the obscure pop culture references.
“Scooby Doo is a famous mystery show that was super big around the 80s and 90s,” you whispered over to him. “Just in case you didn’t know.”
Bucky could feel his heart lurch in its steady pace. He wasn’t entirely used to someone considering his own enjoyment in general—much less for something as mundane as watching a show. You were just so… nice. So nice that it left a yearning sort of ache within Bucky’s chest that he couldn’t exactly place.
“Thanks,” he hoarsely muttered and you only responded with a half-minded hum, hand somehow finding its way back to his knee.
God, you were going to be the death of him.
Eventually, the episode ended and the credits rolled by, the wind-chime music tinkling in the background as you stretched your limbs with a weak groan, followed by an audible yawn you hid behind a fist. You blinked away the sleepy tears and shot him a reluctant watery smile.
“I better call it a night. Got some meetings tomorrow I have to lead.” After a tentative pause, you tacked on, “It was really nice being with you tonight. I, uhm, I hope this took your mind off of things, even if it was temporary.”
The corner of his lips slanted upwards. “It was great, really. Do you think we could… do it again sometime?”
Oh, it was like you could feel your heart melting through the bones of your ribcage. “Yeah! Yeah, I’d love that!” you breathily said a little too quickly, and you cleared your throat in embarrassment. “I, uh—g’night, Bucky.”
Bucky couldn’t understand just how easy it was for you to suddenly lean over and press a chaste kiss to his cheek. Your lips brushed over his stubble, nose bumping softly against his cheekbone. He could smell you—lavender and dish soap infiltrating his senses. Nearly short circuiting, he remained as still as a statue, only forcing himself to lift a hand to stiffly wave goodbye when you promptly hauled yourself onto your feet, turned on the heel, and padded down the hall to your room. He watched you go with slightly parted lips accompanied by a longing stare.
Hours later, now retired into the privacy of his room, moonlight spilling white through the windows and onto the cold floors, Bucky could still feel the burning imprint of your lips on his skin. He wasn’t able to sleep for the rest of the night, plagued by nightdreams of how your smile would feel molded against his.
BONES, OMG BONES. I just had one of the most gut wretching angst ideas ever and my target for today is Zhongli because he had the gall to show his face in a quest and then leaaaave when he knew I wanted him.
In the beginning, there was the creator and only the creator. Out of nothing, they created the elements that exist to this day. Pyro, the fiery element that burns bright. Cryo, the chilling element that casts frost over the land. Geo, the stable element that creates the land. Hydro, the soothing element that allows life to bloom. Dendro, the living element that creates blooms unlike any other. Electro, the stinging element that strikes faster than any other.
With these elements, the creator formed the first creation. Teyvat. A vast land of mountains and canyons, vast seas and deserts, and of heat and winter. Teyvat bloomed for the creator.
The creation of Teyvat brought happiness to the creator. And so, with every happiness the creator experienced, a star was added to the night sky. Soon the night sky shone like diamonds.
Teyvat was a sight to behold but something was missing.
No matter how many slimes were created. Birds, animals. No matter how big, small, or many were created, the creator felt lonely. These creations could understand them, but they longed to walk with a companion.
Thus. The creator formed the first human.
A child with green dendro hair. He looked beautiful. Eyes as deep as the night sky. This child represented rediscovery for the creator rediscovered the feeling of love.
For a while, exploring Teyvat with the child brought even more life. This being was unlike any other creations. This being thought of magical ideas. Thoughts of fantasy, creation, and what would be today known as technology.
But a child can only behave for so long alone until they inevitably cry.
And this child did.
The creator was an adult. Far taller than the small child. Slower in smaller spaces, and too big to fit into the tiny spaces they discovered. They wanted a friend.
And the creator formed another human. And another. And another.
Until there were tens of children.
And the creator lived happily watching over them, seeing life bloom within the world they created.
Soon, the children aged faster than the creator could imagine for a mere 20 years is a blip in their own lifespan. And the creator feared nothing would be left of the children they raised when death would visit them. But soon, the women started to show little bumps.
The first generation of humans had created their own.
The creator was ecstatic. There was abundance everywhere.
And everyone was happy.
Until greed started to form.
Those close to the creator received the most blessings. Blessings not of wealth but of power. The ability to control a single element was given to a select number of individuals. They seemed to bask in the divinity of the creator, leading to a longer life span than others for those who did not meet with the creator often led to lead lives of up to only 50 or 60 years while those who were by the creator's side lived pass a hundred years.
There were a few who wished to be close to the creator but they couldn't be strong enough to be worthy to stay by their beloved creator's side.
If they couldn't, then they would happily take a piece of their creator to keep close.
Thousands of individuals flooded the creator. Their protectors and closest creations being held down as their fellow creations held down their creator and shattered the body of their creator. They scattered to gather a piece, killing each other to get a hold of a piece.
Rex Lapis hasn't felt his heart break like this.
A sensation of having your heart crushed. In a fit of desperation, he grabs the one piece nobody seems to notice. The piece that contained your heart.
For centuries, those who were able to take a piece stopped aging. Their power surged.
He kept your piece close by, as a reminder of what he had failed to do. He had failed to protect you. He couldn't think of a way of how to bring you back. Every night, he prays to you in hope of you remembering his complete and utter devotion to you even today.
Rex Lapis, like his element, made sure to keep his emotions steady and stable. He was unshakeable.
Until the archon war.
He wouldn't participate in such a barbaric act. Devoting himself to you fulfilled his life and he didn't need to become an archon.
Until he heard someone offer a piece of you in return to spare their lives.
His blood boiled at the thought of these people who had a piece of you, undeserving of your presence. They have reduced you as a bargaining piece and no longer remembered you as their creator.
"You do not deserve the creator's blessing."
In a rage, he slaughtered those who didn't revere you and took a seat as one of the archons.
He collected your pieces, lovingly placed the most lightest touches deep during his vulnerable moments on the day of your death.
It wasn't until he was able to gather enough pieces where the shards started to form together into larger ones. His breath hitched. This... This- he could bring you back. All he needed were enough pieces.
For centuries, Rex Lapis or the person who is now known as Zhongli kept collecting and looking for the pieces of you that remained on Teyvat. He was hopeful that he will see you again with your warm smile.
Unlike that day's where star streaked tears flowed down from your cheeks as the spear pierced through your heart.
He kept on collecting...
Until he couldn't find any more pieces.
The other archons did not want to relinquish their hold on their piece of you. They revered you but they were not sure if this would bring you back.
He kept losing hope.
During Osial's attack, he only kept imagining reuniting with you.
He was so tired...
Life without his creator felt meaningless. Day in and day out, you remained as his only guiding light. He wanted it to end.
Until he felt your presence again.
He was kneeling on the ground, defeat almost ensured with the events.
A pair of feet pad carefully into his field of vision as he hung his head low. A hand places itself warmly on his head, just like his childhood. Flashes of memory from his distant past flow through his mind. He raises his head and tears bead in his eyes.
The world went silent.
There you stood in all of your divinity. Zhongli clenched his fists but nothing could push away the tears as you lovingly caressed his face, soothing his inner turmoil he had chosen to ignore.
"You must've suffered so much..." You barely whispered and he broke. Babbles of apologies and pain resonated from the man. He asked for forgiveness for not being able to protect you from them. For not being able to save you. But you shushed him. "It's alright... You did what you could. I cannot bear to see you all angry with each other. I cannot forgive you for you hadn't wronged me. Nobody has wronged me. I love you all, no matter what..."
Zhongli weeps and places his head on your feet, showing his adoration and devotion. He would sacrifice anything and everything to stay a bit longer.
But you drooped.
Zhongli, feeling your weight rest a bit more on him, became concerned. He glanced up to see the stars in your eyes flickering. "I... Have to rest." "When should I wake you up, your Grace?" You smile softly at him. "I'll awaken when peace returns... Lead them, my beloved Morax."
And there is his last heartbreak..
To see you and to have you taken away again.
You slumber in a mountain of amber and crystals.
Just as you asked, Zhongli remained faithful. He kept guiding the people, teaching vast numbers of them lessons that were on the brink of being forgotten but he made sure the memory of you shone brightly even after years of your slumber.
He will continue to live to make the world into the loving one you remembered. The world before the first betrayal. The world before your death.
And he will continue to do so. Until then, every night, he returns to your resting place. He sees you, slumbering in the amber, life blooming around you to protect you from the elements.
He sets down a cup of tea for you as he always does and talks about his day. He talks about the child a descendant of one of the first adeptis and how energetic she was. He talks about how the tastes of people change but the food has seemed to remain in the same profile.
Every night, he returns to you to keep you company.
For a moment during a rare night, he will see you smile in your slumber. He will hear your loving mutters.
Seeing you, despite your slumber, makes any sacrifice worth it for you remain as his guiding light.
BIG SAD ANON IM IN LOVE WITH YOH PELASE MARRY ME /P no because your brain... the way you write.... im quite literally in love 💓💓 but it's very platonic i promjse i just truly admire you omfg and this??? It's a masterpiece you talented bastard (affectionate) 😭💓
I Know You, I Know What You’ll Do
Summary: You run into someone you’ve met before while on a mission. You needed to get information, but when he remembers you, you get a little more than information.
Pairing: The Winter Soldier x S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent!Reader
Warnings: Fluff, fighting, slight knife kink, spitting, spit kink (I couldn’t help myself, guys), voice kink (?), enemies to lovers, the use of Google Translate for the Russian dialog.
Word Count: 1,568
A/N: I had this thot knocking around in my head for a long time, and it came to fruition in the many horny ramblings I have with my bestie @tumblin-theworldaway (hey, babes!). I might be doing a part 2 to this, but we shall see! Let me know if you guys want a part 2! Ok! I love you all!
That’s all you needed.
Your mission was to get in, get the information, get out. It was like the countless other missions you’d completed, except one thing— The Winter Soldier.
You’d heard stories of the mysterious, strong, and deadly Hydra assassin and when you were new to S.H.I.E.L.D. you thought that that’s all they were— stories. But the 6’6” hulk of a man with a metal arm that currently had a blade pressed to your throat said otherwise. This wasn’t the first time you’d encountered the Winter Soldier; there had been a few run-ins over the years. So, when he found you in a Hydra base near the border of Moldova, you couldn’t fight the strange feeling of familiarity washing over you.
The icy cold metal of the knife to your neck brought you back to your senses. Pinned to the floor by his ungodly strong limbs, your weighed your options. Your eyes remained locked on his striking blue ones, watching how he stared down at you with an unwavering intensity. The bottom half of his face was hidden behind the muzzle he wore, but you could see the muscles in his jaw tighten as he stared. You knew you had to get the upper hand, it was just a matter of how. Licking your lips quickly, you noticed how his eyes dipped down to watch the swipe of your tongue along your bottom lip.
Using his distraction, your managed to swing your leg around his waist, using the momentum of your kick to sling your body into his, knocking him over. Before he knew it, you had the military grade magnet attached to his arm and secured to the concrete floor. It wasn’t going to hold him forever, but it would restrain him long enough for you to ask your questions and get out of there. He gave the gadget a few mighty tugs, thundering growls of anger rumbled from behind his mask, but his arm stayed flush against the floor
Your own blade pressed into his neck gently as you sat on his torso to hold him down. You smiled triumphantly to yourself, you really couldn’t help it— you just temporarily immobilized the Winter Soldier.
“Are you ok?” You ask, your mission was to get information, not hurt him. His head snapped to look at you; the confusion in his eyes taking center stage. He remembered you, he had found you stealing files from another base in Ukraine a little over 7 months ago, and before that you had fought against him and his handlers a year ago in France. The long dark brown hair that normally framed his face splayed out around his head as you held him to the concrete floor.
“Are you ok?” You repeat, your voice lowered but calm, it oddly comforted him, knowing that you cared to some degree about him. There was a subtle wave of arousal that crashed over him as you spoke. The low hum of your voice, the smile you wore not but a few seconds ago had his heart fluttering ever so slightly. He gave you a curt nod, hesitation overpowering his feelings as you hold him down.
“Good. I’m not gonna hurt you, Soldat, I’m just gonna ask you a few questions then let you go. Understand?” You quirk an eyebrow but receive no nod for an answer. “Ты понял меня, Солдат?” The sound of your voice speaking perfect Russian had another wave of arousal course through him, but he ignored it. You repeat it once more but are met with nothing but an icy glare. After a moment, he mumbles something, his voice is deep and rich. “Xм?”
He mumbles to you again, but the mask obscures his words. With a sigh, you find the latches of his muzzle and quickly undo them. You pull the black mask off, revealing his full face to you. What you find underneath is nothing what you expected; a cleft chin, baby pink lips, straight nose, and a squared sharp jawline that made you fight off a gasp. You managed to keep a straight face, though you’re sure your eyes gave you away. He was gorgeous.
The feeling of hot spit coating your left cheek tore you out of the trance he had you under. Blistering rage filled your gut as you brought your hand to wipe off the glob of saliva from your skin. His defiant and proud eyes make you even angrier. Your face sets harshly as your free hand grips his jaw, his lips parting as you hover over him.
“You spit on me, I spit on you. Sound fair?” You say, your voice still holding its calmness as you pry his mouth open even more. You run your tongue along your teeth as you let your mouth water. Soldat watches as you slowly drip a string of your own saliva from your mouth to his. He feels it land on his tongue, the feelings of it sliding down his throat makes his cock twitch underneath his black tactical suit. A deep purr vibrates in his chest on instinct as he swallows your spit, the intoxicating heat of your body pressed against his and the coldness of your knife to his neck has blood rushing to his dick. The noise he makes surprises you, the way his eyes glaze over for a split second as he swallows makes you smirk proudly.
The smirk you wear triggers a snarl. With one violent thrash, he manages to pull his arm free, shattering the gadget in the process. The world spins around you as he flips you both over, reclaiming his rightful position on top of you. Laying beneath him, you’re able to see his face clearer, he’s much more expressive without his muzzle on. You like it.
“You’re quite a handsome one, aren’t you, Soldat?” You comment softly with a smile and boop his nose with your free hand, you really couldn’t help yourself. The look of shock took over his features again, it made you laugh despite the serious situation you were in. The mission was a dud, you might as well have a little fun at work.
He recoils at the action, shock written all over his handsome face. His eyes take in your smile, how it lights up your whole face— he always had a soft spot for you, it’s why he hasn’t killed you yet. And then your laugh, oh, your laugh. That was something he was sure he’d remember even if he had his memories cleared again.
His lips slammed into yours on instinct, the gravitational pull you had on him was too much to fight any longer. The small squeak of surprise you gave him bled into a soft moan, your lips finally moving together with his own. Neither of you lowered your knives, the sharp edges still pressed to each other’s jugular. The kiss grew in intensity, Soldat’s tongue now messily playing with yours, loving how each bold move he made was met with your own, meeting him stroke for stroke.
The sound of Hydra agents stomping down the hall tore your attention away from each other, the kiss being broken much too soon for both of your likings. An annoyed growl bubbled from his kiss swollen lips as he glared at the door, he didn’t take lightly to being interrupted. He turned his attention back to you, his eyes flicking down to your lips again. With one last breath-stealing kiss, he finally spoke.
“Go,” he orders, his lips lingering on yours for a moment longer before he pulls away from you. You stare at him as he begins to barricade the door, agents now firing at the metal in an effort to blow it open. “Now!”
That’s all you need to quickly jump up, gathering the hard drives you needed, and heading for the window you entered in. You turn back to look at him one more time, his eyes were already on you. You gave him a soft, thankful smile. Then you were gone.
To say that your superiors were disappointed would be a lie. The files you had copied proved to be just as helpful as the information they needed from the Winter Soldier. As a reward they had given you the next few weeks off to recuperate, and you were grateful.
You’d returned from the mission days ago, but at night, your thoughts were consumed by the blue eyed man in the mask. You wondered if he was ok, where he was… if he thought of you. With a sigh, you unlocked your apartment, the grocery bags were unnecessarily heavy. The lights in your home were off, just how you left them. You hummed your favorite song as you put your groceries away for the night. You were beat and all you needed was a nice hot shower and to catch up on some much needed sleep.
Your bedroom was pleasantly dark, you sighed comfortably once more before the lamp on your nightstand clicks on. You kick yourself for not noticing the open window on the other side of the room. His tactical suit looks exactly the same as the last time you saw it, his mask lays unclipped on your nightstand. He cocks his head to the side ever so slightly.
“I wasn’t finished with you.”
Tags: @runawayolives @slothspaghettiwrites @smokememories
JASON JUST HIM JUST FLUFF WITH MY BIG MAN
No one has any clue how excited I was about this!! My first ask, someone actually requested my writing!! I’m so sorry this took so long, but I have to resubmit uni work and so I’ve had no free time. Anyway, I love Jason so much and thought this was cute, enjoy! :)
Jason Voorhees: Surprise
“Shhh!” Your voice is quiet, but Jason hears it clearly as he approaches your shared bedroom, the door slightly ajar. “You need to be quiet, he can’t hear you!”
He cocks his head to the side, wondering what you could possibly be doing. No one could be in the cabin with you, he’s certain of that much. Earlier on in your relationship, when he was still frightened to take his mask off around you, he often worried that you would leave him for another person, someone beautiful and funny and better. That fear had lessened more and more, however, with every kiss you placed on his unmasked face, every whispered declaration on your feelings and every night spent curled up against him. So what on Earth are you up to?
He pushes the door open gently, and huffs out a small chuckle when you jump in surprise. “Jason!” You smile is bright as you stare up at your lover, fighting not to appear suspicious to the incredibly deceptive man before you. “I thought that would take longer!”
That part, at least, is true. He’d left a few hours ago when one of his traps had activated, indicating unwelcome guests in the area. Of course, you weren’t unaware of his job (could you call it that?) but it was much less of an issue for you than either of you had been anticipating. Perhaps you were just mad, but Jason’s flaws seemed much easier to accept than most people you had known. Although, you often mused with a smile, it was easier to forgive his actions when he gave you those adorable puppy eyes when he came back to the cabin. He only ever left for a few hours at most… though that was more than enough time for you to cause all sorts of trouble.
He simply tilts his head at you before signing. What are you up to?
“Nothing, Jay.” You smile innocently up at him and his heart thuds at your wide eyes. “Pinky promise.” His eyes narrow behind his mask as a small movement catches his eye.
He brushes his hand across your cheek before he signs again. What’s behind the pillow, flower?
“So, I have a surprise for you… Well, for us actually.” You move the pillow, and it takes Jason a second to comprehend what he’s looking at. At first he thinks you’re showing him a pair of those fluffy socks you wear during the winter, but he’s fairly certain that socks don’t have ears and… no, socks definitely don’t meow. “I found him in the woods. What do you think?”
He nods enthusiastically and you laugh in delight at his excitement. He approaches the two of you slowly as you scoop up your new friend. What’s his name? He signs, breathing quietly to make sure he doesn’t startle the tiny creature. It’s skinnier than it should be, but he’s got no doubt that you’ll fix that very soon. Big yellow eyes, almost as striking as yours, stare up at him sleepily, before a big yawn overtakes the kitten. He grins at the display, reaching a hand out towards the two of you as he sits down on the bed. You plant another kiss on the kitten’s nose before climbing onto Jason’s lap eagerly, still cradling your new friend.
“I haven’t decided yet, I thought we could pick together.” “I was thinking maybe Tommy? Or Freddy?”
You continue to coo at the little cat, oblivious to the large smile stretching across Jason’s face. His heart feels too big for his chest, like that strange Christmas film you had made him watch last December. He hadn’t paid much attention to it at the time, too enamoured with how your eyes sparkled with delight as you watched the movie on the little television you had gotten for the cabin.
“We’ve got a little family now,” you murmur against his chest, the kitten yawning in agreement. He squeezes you both tighter in his arms, eyes soft beneath his mask as he scratches his new pet’s ear. Loud purring fills the air and Jason hums happily in response. “Aww, I knew you two would get along.” The kitten licks his hand, almost to prove you right, and Jason swears he melts right there and then.
Neither of you are sure how long you stay like that, him cradling both you and your furry addition to the family, but it’s long enough for both you and the kitten to dose off. Two sets of light snores fill the comfortable silence as Jason watches over you both. His smile is peaceful, his soul more at ease than he ever remembers.
Bliss had come late in life for Jason, but by God you were worth the wait.
I have no clue what happened with the paragraph spacing, I know it’s awful for some reason but it’s 5am, I’m halfway through a psychology paper and I truly don’t care anymore. This was so much fun to write!! Hope you guys liked it, and apologies if you don’t like cats. Also there’s some very random references in this that I will never apologise for :)
Longing for you
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Summary: Natalia of Royal lineage, finds herself conflicted to follow the rules of her traditions or her heart that longs for one love. (“You came, and I went mad about you. You cooled my mind burning with longing.” - Sappho, If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho + a bunch of others too)
Warning: 18+(General), mention of forced marriage, heart break with happy ending
Word count: 3145
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He stood as near to her as you were—a pace of unrequited love snaking around your ankles and slithers down your throat, where grumble of cries gnawed at your chest and bleeds through your heart.
Natalia; a phantom of visuals beneath your eyelids of supposed darkness, a vital organ for your survival, roots of life to your body, and Nat the epiphany in which you breathe.
“We can’t,” she whispered, voice almost carried away by the wind. A chill erupts in your chest, bumps arise on your skin and hers; an icy cold as she shivers. “He mustn’t know,” she forced an agreement down your hallow throat.
You mark a cross near your toes. Cold sand buried your bare feet and hers. Foaming sea water crashing against the shore and you wondered for days, if the creatures beneath undiscovered sea, presumed you a carcass of which a beauty once speaks so fondly of.
“Nat, do you love him?” you abruptly asked as fingers travel across her own, a gentle grasp of hands and a warmth overfills your chest. “Would you love him like me?” and your words were of whispers that lingers by the late nights spend under the moonlight of timeless glow.
But the sound louder when you meet her eyes. Branches of green that shadows the ground, embrace in her eyes and you see the shadowing doubt in her orbs. The subtle drop of her shoulder and trembles of her lips, not caused from time spend together. But of something harsher.
You worry for your poor soul.
“Yes, I do love him,” she declared, head lifting lightly, and she nodded, repeating the same words again. Seemingly trying to grow comfortable to the taste of him on her tongue.
And not me.
Your heart thrashes in your chest by the sheer foolishness of allowing yourself to immerse your life into another. To live by the beating of her heart, to live till dawn and wake in the same bed of empty. Few seconds of pain that strikes your chest at your nude body—alone, and the marks of a feast spread across your body. Her promises of love for only you, and yet, leaving you without another word after.
Nat, Natalia, the droplets of honey that grazes your tongue then glides down your throat and swirls around the pipes you breathe. Completely cutting your air as sweetness leaves you dazed, confused and carelessly falling into her. Natalia of sweet smiles under blanket of grey sky and sparkling eyes by the shore of sea unknown. Natalia, an addiction that seeps poison to your chest and coats your heart, decaying the veins as you struggle to breathe.
“I was nothing,” your words were soft like the gentleness of your thumb skimming across her knuckles. Warmth that once settles in your chest like home, slowly turn cold. “I will leave,” you promised and stared ahead of ocean wide. “And never see you again,” you added with a heavy heart and eyes pleasing for a scenery that didn’t drown you in misery.
Natalia shakes her head, wisp of auburn hair falling to her face, and you wish to brush those strands away. You see droplets of blurry translucent from her dull eyes and you worry for her—the same person who had swiftly taken you into her arms by the table of various cheese and bread, away from peering eyes and the same—swapping your grinning face with pleasurable moans reserved for her.
“No, please, you can’t…” and her last words fades into the air of the evening, by the shore that now holds the sorrow tale of love.
You forced a smile on your face. “I wish the best to you and him,” you affirmed the end of you and her, then your hand release from hers and briefly touch her back, “Thank you.”
The narrowing strength in your body buzzes a chill down your spine, picking you from the sand and you brush the speckles of sand clinging to your pale coloured clothes. A vast contrast from the vivid colours of hers. The royal blue that ridicules your life, and colours of which flashes memories—the first of unknown feelings erupting in your chest after a kiss, and more when your back fell against rough sand—but now, blooming colours seems to dim.
You carefully step away, your footing clumsy for a moment. Each step away leaves your heart vacant, emptier than before like the passing warmth before the return of a dry winter or the downpour of cold rain matching the trail of tears down your cheek.
Natalia, your lips part to whisper her name but it leaves as echoes in your head and blaze fire merrily in your chest to the point of melting. Natalia of sweetness that rots your teeth and even sweeter touch. Natalia, your saving grace to the grave.
A wondrous morning with a luminous sun, glaring down the heads of those immersed in conversation of life after the war and voices that echoes of a wedding in summer, beneath lilacs which blooms once every few years. An unpredictable timing for its flowers to bloom and grace their town, the people equip as they blew the smoke from their pipes towards a dying bush.
Natalia—fumbles with milky coloured frills, a cheery blossom dress adorning her brittle figure. Childish at first glance, but a heavenly dress none less for a future Queen to wed a living King. As they preached of perfection from the tip of her head to the ground she stood, nothing less and only more.
She sighed, eyes peering for a scenery that doesn’t celebrate the ritual of virgins bidding away to future of bearing children. Her mother used to preach of youth and wealth, but neither could exist without the promise of a wedding. But the finality differs from her expectation. It only plummets her chest and leaves her spine cold, as if broken from a great fall.
And she was trading her freedom for them.
Giggles of a young child crossing pass her sight, leaves a soft smile on her face. The reminder of youth—of a young child like her, yellow ribbon around messy tied hair and a giddy smile. It was you; a wreath of blooming flowers adoring her body when you first engulf your small arms around her; an innocent child discovering colours upon meeting you.
“You look so lovely,” said a low voice.
A curt nod of acknowledgment from her and her gaze easily falls to her hand clasping the other tightly. They had all wished for the same blessing, either for her or themselves then those who complimented on her changed self. Young girls like her should always stay the same, simple-minded with the boldest taste of dressing, and virgin like the seas that remains unknown.
Purity of youth differs for those of her lineage. A child at age seven or an adult at age twenty-two, purity reigns supreme abide by the royals. Except they would never know or understand how her tongue withe towards another. How colours of redden tomatoes were present on your cheeks when she pressed a tender kiss on your lips then a second, when your body glister of sweat alike hers.
Where your name lingers on her lips, a curse that set ablaze in her chest just chanting for you. She can’t fathom a life without your hands grasping hers like a moment apart would prove disastrous. You were right. A moment missed, and she was promised to another man.
Now, the period for woman like her to follow the linage of her ancestors as she stands before them. People in their high hats and dresses made of gold. Curtsy to their future Queen. Not a name of Nat or the loving whisper of Natalia that falls from your lips like petals, but to the Queen—Natalia Alianovna Romanova.
While spading the dirt, Natalia wondered of yellow tulips and grey, the flowers that grace your hands and the same flourishing colours left on her grave—by the window of her last home, before the carriage accompanies her to another stay.
“My daughter, the future Queen…”
Natalia spares a glance at her mother. Few inches taller than her by the layers of hair above her head. Dark eyes and an eager smile in anticipation for her daughter’s future. High expectations fell on her shoulder for what she wished; to confess of her first love, the dream of youth not robbed, the grounded days and night that leaves a longing in her heart for you—all left to silent ears.
“Must I…” her words caught between the crunch of yellow leaves in her hands and the warning look in her mother’s eyes. Nodding her head and staring ahead, she wished so badly to run away.
“Clean your hands and get dressed. A lady should never…”
Order and lessons fade into the air of birds singing with the wind blowing at her face, inviting her to flourish like the rest—beneath infinite sky of blushing blue and clouds of white, hues of pink and more that scatters across the sky during sunset and sunrise, the heavenly twinkles in the night sky—and a promising life, better than one planned for her.
A life which echoes of you.
She wished of you.
If she accepted the temptation to run away, sooner or later, she would be pursued by another. Either a suitor promising life beyond the stars or those wishing for her to stay behind brick walls. If she does stay, bribery of gift will lay by her feet and she would learn to love—even unwillingly.
Natalia paused, pondering a thought after another till she felt something wet dribble on her forehead. Soon, ripples of rain grace her space. It jolts her heart awake from its forced sleep to accept life’s decay. She lifted her head and watch the pouring rain from above the greying clouds. Her voice empty, but her soul screams for more and you, always you, the heavenly presence of life.
Your love for her made her cry and bleed her heart dry, but never bad as you paint her life in colours known of the world that she has yet to discover. To only know from the colours drawn by your words to the gentle touch of your hands.
How could she had forgotten the promise of hearts?
A laugh stumbled out from her mouth followed by more, and she’s falling on her knees like the shattered golden rimmed plates from her mother’s kitchen. Splatter of mud greets her white dress. The same woven cotton adoring her body when you last laid by her side. Slender fingers threads along soaked hair and tongue sliding across her lips, tasting salty rain and tears falling from her sorrowful eyes.
Her mind slips from consciousness. Forgotten was her home, her mother, and the man she vowed to marry. Life once painted of grey by eyes brewing with intentions from years of tradition. The wishes made for her—a pure virgin of life, purity seeping from her smile and eyes to had only watch the birth of flowers.
Familiar sounds from her memories of crashing waves against shore, carries her body away through trails of stones and grass, the rough edges that scraps her bare feet and soon—the softer of sand beneath her feet. And there, under the branches of green and yellow, shadows a bruised heart.
You were staring ahead into seas unknown. The silence deadly as she rather hear your supple steps by the rocks and the shine of moonlight on your face than dwell in silence. She never wants to watch you as passing memories while she prayed away those around her.
“You haven’t left…”
Others may claim it a fleet of longing, the kind that ends after a suffice meeting. But she daringly confesses, it’s a sign of love which surpassed the preserved beauty of materials and a field of the country’s best suitors. Merely grazing the love that led her to your path by the shore where your feet were buried in sand. Longing on your face for what she hopes was the pulsing in her chest.
Your body still. Almost cold by chilly wind and the voice that you swore upon life itself. Subtle, but loud when she steps closer and accompanies you. Reminder of countless memories; those of sweet kisses beneath sunrise and colours you named as love, nights spend counting stars and wishing of things you could only ever confess to her. Till the end where your heart was left whispering the last hope of love.
“Leaving at dawn,” you mumbled, hands grazing wet sand. The rain reached its end, but the reminder of its visit lingers for others to know. Just how you are reminded of Natalia.
She stares at you and you felt the way her eyes lingering on details of your face. Natalia witness the colours once so vivid in your eyes and face, almost feel empty of life. Her heart clenched by the bitter truth of her name. Reasons left by her dismiss, only to be wed to another while her heart remains beating for you.
“No,” she forced out a whispered.
Your head shakes lightly then daringly shifting your gaze to meet her eyes, “How is…your...” your words messy, eyes rounding the corner of her face as such a woman fill of despair. “What happened?”
Natalia—her lips curves absently, cheeks crimson and eyes lingers on you. She seems the same, yet, different from when you first met her. A child unknown to life, biding by the hunger of knowledge and you were simply drawn by the kindness in her voice. But fragility adorn her features like an expensive crystal, and you were warned of breakable nature.
“You…” Natalia sighed, “You came…and I went mad about you,” and her hand blindly search for yours which you easily joined with hers. The meeting of hands together and a spark that lifts to your chest.
“You are freezing,” your pointed out with a shiver as another hand clasps against hers. An attempt to warm her body as your eyes trails along the wet of her cheeks to the dirty white dress clinging to her body and evident of mud on her legs. A sight that will surely make her mother cry.
But Natalia doesn’t care. Her mind was too invested by the sheer sound of your voice and gentle touch of you. It takes a moment for her to notice your concern eyes and another for her to curse them. Be damn, if she was to love by her own then she will.
On impulse, Natalia’s body invades the space between you and her. Hands in your hold falls and replaced by her hands grasping your face as she pulls you into her—a soaring meeting of your lips and hers, of cold and warmth, a kiss that makes you forget of air by the urgency to taste her instead. Your back falls on rough sand with the flashing memories of the first, and her body flush against yours.
Her lips leave yours with a panting breath, “You came, and I went mad about you…” she repeats those words then kiss you again. From the soft of your lips to the line of your jaw, “You cooled my mind burning with longing.”
Bolder than the sparrow was she, Nat—Natalia as she fills your chest of familiarity. A heavenly feeling of her love. The touch of her hands passing boundaries to had never been discovered by others. You try your best to push her away. The rush of emotions clouding your judgment and yet—
“Stop, stop, you are married, Natalia! Stop!” you pushed her chest at every word, halting her movement as she falls limp on your body. “You are a married woman…” you whispered with finality, hands caressing her back as your own cries joins her.
“No,” she begged for you to know and understand the words that left her mouth as hungry kisses under the sky. “Please,” her words leaving empty spaces in between. “I can’t…”
And your hands stopped.
“I am nothing.”
Natalia’s breath hitched, “No…no, you are…”
But you pushed her body away, trying your best to allow air to pass between and promise you enough space to keep away from her. The longing in your chest disagrees as another wave of tears washes by your face. Chest heaving while you struggling to remove her from you and she—
“I’m leaving with you!” she shouted, “I would not marry another, not if it’s not you. I can’t lie anymore, please, I can’t…”
It takes time for your mind to settle with the sound of her pleads. You admit the truth of your heart craving for her and only living by the knowing of her existence by your side. And those words, the meaning of life itself that you wish to confess to her.
“But you are married?” you asked, hands on her waist as her hands carefully rest on your shoulder. “You are married.”
Natalia lets out a laugh then smiles wordlessly at the confusion swirling in your eyes. “I was supposed to…but I decided that I rather be known a traitor than allow my love to leave,” she confessed and leans her forehead against yours.
“You love me?”
And you watch her eyes darts from your lips to your eyes, the same smile playing on her lips.
“I longed for you before I knew of love,” she press a gentle kiss on your lips and continues, “My mind burns, but when I’m with you,” she takes your hand to place on her chest and you feel her heart beating through your touch. “You cooled me of longing, because you are there…here with me and it feels right. I know it’s right.”
Your throat stuck of something heavy, slipping to your chest as you buried your head in the crook of her neck. The flutter of your heart and the childlike giggles of hers—a fulfilling sound. Feathery kisses grace your head, as her fingers threads with your hair and pulls your closer.
Nat, a sweetness of life that leaves a lingering taste on your tongue. For colours that you speak so fondly of—are the colours you see when you meet her eyes, and when you look into her eyes at that moment—Natalia smiles, the kind you know as Nat, carefree and happy, willingly to fight the world for true love.
And that’s enough.
Tonight, you shall sleep peaceful by her side and wake to bright voiced nightingales. Babbles through paths known and unknown, through icy water and warm summer, leaving the shadow of you and her at every stop—but together, a profound love that others would fail to understand.
“The truest loves of our lives are not always romantic. The winter makes us honest. It helps us remember.”
“February is the loneliest month of the year.”
“I am tired of trying to escape loneliness. Let it find me. Let it follow me into bed or on my walk. In Finnish, February is called the month of the pearl for how the snow melts then freezes again on tree branches. The forests coated in the heart of winter. In Old English, February was called Solmanath. Mud month. Today too is the start of a lunar new year, the spring festival and the year of the water tiger.
The thaw is proof. Here is enough warmth to become something new.”
— Sanna Wani, from “booklight 04: The Heart of Winter”
↬ THE LANGUAGE OF THORNS, midnight tales and dangerous magic. ( 2017 ) by leigh bardugo.
sentences taken from or inspired by the collection’s dialogue & narration.
+ feel free to change pronouns !
i. AYAMA AND THE THORN WOOD.
‘ love speaks in flowers. truth requires thorns. ’
‘ we all know the story of how the queen becomes a queen. ’
‘ we should leave this place. ’
‘ no doubt it will come and devour us all. ’
‘ the beast will laugh you right out of the wild lands. ’
‘ you know how the stories go. interesting things happen only to pretty girls. ’
‘ is the wood much worse than a garden overgrown with pricklers ? ’
‘ stupid girl ! do you wish to become a monster ? ’
‘ strike me. cleave me in two. ’
‘ you’re as thorny as the wood. ’
‘ there is but one rule in my wood. speak truth. ’
‘ perhaps you might show mercy freely. ’
‘ just eat a bit of the sun to fill the sky, and you will feel empty no longer. ’
‘ what nonsense ! of course that’s not how the story ends. ’
‘ some people are born with a piece of night inside, and that hollow place can never be filled. ’
‘ what do i care for winter ? no season touches this wood. ’
‘ you know the only bargain i will make. ’
‘ sometimes the unseen is not to be feared and those that are meant to love us most are not always the ones that do. ’
‘ bad fates do not always follow those that deserve them. ’
‘ no prince is worth your life. ’
‘ are you so eager to be eaten ? ’
‘ they have told me to return with your heart. ’
‘ you think to love a monster ? ’
‘ a man like you is owed no words. ’
ii. THE TOO CLEVER FOX.
‘ you are doomed to a miserable life. ’
‘ better to be hungry now than to be sorry later. ’
‘ what will everyone say when they see such a face ? ’
‘ we have not gone so soft as that. ’
‘ you think that we will let you live on foolish promises ? ’
‘ you have bested me. that much is clear. ’
‘ will you not free me ? ’
‘ you will have a fine time of it, i can tell you. ’
‘ i can bear ugliness. i find the one thing i cannot live with is death. ’
‘ if you will only cease your talking, i will gladly go. ’
‘ where he went, he bled the woods dry. ’
‘ what’s a bit more blood ? ’
‘ you should leave this place. you are not safe here. ’
‘ with such big eyes, i think you see too much. ’
‘ will you not tell me what troubles you ? ’
‘ why do you stay with him ? you’re pretty enough to catch a husband. ’
‘ just because you escape one trap, doesn’t mean you will escape the next. ’
‘ first i must find my courage. ’
‘ few can resist the sight of a pretty girl crying. ’
‘ the trap is loneliness, and no one escapes it. not even me. ’
‘ in the wood, even songbirds must be survivors. ’
iii. THE WITCH OF DUVA.
‘ there was a time when the wood ate girls. ’
‘ be back before dark. the trees are hungry tonight. ’
‘ who can say what shapes an appetite ? ’
‘ this is my home, you can’t just send me away. ’
‘ don’t be foolish. there’s plenty of light. ’
‘ well then, come help me stir the pot. ’
‘ i will warn you just this once. go. ’
‘ you cannot come and go from this place like you’re fetching water from a well. ’
‘ hope made me stubborn. ’
‘ stay there and keep quiet. i don’t need rumors that i’ve been taking girls. ’
‘ i will not have you bring a monster to my door. ’
‘ you know that you are welcome to remain here with me. ’
‘ i will follow her. i will peck out her eyes. ’
‘ believe me. say you believe me. ’
‘ dark things have a way of slipping through narrow spaces. ’
iv. LITTLE KNIFE.
‘ it is dangerous to travel the northern road with a troubled heart. ’
‘ if you are lost in your own thoughts, you may find yourself stepping off the path and into the dark woods. ’
‘ she was beautiful from the moment of her birth. ’
‘ why must i be the one to hide ? ’
‘ do you think i am so foolish or so cruel ? ’
‘ water only wants direction. it wants to be told what to do. ’
‘ always you have done my bidding, but what good are you to me now ? ’
‘ soon i will be very rich, but will i have a good man ? ’
‘ that is a question for the river. ’
‘ your tongue is not fit for my true name. ’
‘ will you come with me, and be bride to nothing but the shore ? ’
‘ she was terrifying in her beauty, bright like a devouring star. ’
‘ remember that to use a thing is not to own it. ’
‘ should you ever take a bride, listen closely to her questions. ’
v. THE SOLDIER PRINCE.
‘ this is the problem with even lesser demons. they come to your door in velvet coats and polished shoes. ’
‘ you will find great love and more gold than you could wish for. ’
‘ he’s a charming fellow, but most unusual, and peculiarities seem to follow him. ’
’ it seemed harmless at the time. ’
‘ he needed a girl, still malleable, one that he could make admire him. ’
‘ this is pleasant. this is enough. ’
‘ are you my soldier ? are you my prince ? ’
‘ i have not come to fight, only to talk. ’
‘ wanting is why people get up in the morning. it gives them something to dream of at night. ’
‘ i am perfectly real. ’
‘ she loves you, though, and that will make it harder. ’
‘ best not to ask. i think the answer would please no one. ’
‘ we can stay forever in the land of dreams. ’
‘ kiss me. take me from this place. ’
‘ i sent you to die a hundred times. ’
‘ i eat the wonder in their eyes. ’
‘ you were an idea in my head. you were nothing, and to nothing you will return when i think of you no more. ’
‘ you wanted only that i might live. you would sacrifice your own life to make it so. ’
‘ are you my darling ? are you mine ? ’
vi. WHEN WATER SANG FIRE.
‘ you wish to strike a bargain. ’
‘ make me someone new. ’
‘ this is the problem with making a thing forbidden. it does nothing but build an ache in the heart. ’
‘ easy magic is pretty. great magic requires that you trouble the waters. ’
‘ no one expects me to accomplish anything. ’
‘ i can smell your ambition like blood in the water.’
‘ i know that you should keep it like a secret, not shout it like a curse. ’
‘ yes. i can imagine it all. ’
‘ you are worth more than that. you should not have to earn him. ’
‘ hope rises like water trapped beneath a dam, higher and higher, in increments that mean nothing until you face the flood. ’
‘ there is no pain like the pain of transformation. ’
‘ take your pleasures as you will. ’
‘ come, and i’ll tell you all you wish to know. ’
‘ he made me dream of things i cannot have. ’
‘ i do not care for dancing. ’
‘ look into the mirror, and try to deny it. ’
‘ you have never been like the others, and you never will be. ’
‘ we were not made to please princes. ’
‘ i am not quite mortal either, and i have many lives to live. ’
‘ i wouldn’t care if you were part human or part frog. ’
‘ my voice is not enough. ’
‘ you know i was never strong. ’
From: @twistedreblog to you!
Hello 🙌! I really enjoy your blog a lot 😳! If I may make a request (it’s 7 characters I believe?), can I get either a scenario or headcanons (whatever’s easier) of the TWST first years + Ruggie & Azul’s ‘Oh. Ohhhhh.’ moment? Like, when they realize that they feel something different from normal (romantically I mean 😉) and how they react (both internally and externally), do they immediately panic or are they just like ‘yeah okay lol’? Thank you 😊😘!!
AHHHH! This is so cute! I love those "Oh... OH." moments in writing, they're always so much fun!!!
GN! Reader, Fluff
His moment isn't anything really special from an outsider's perspective, but boy does it hit him like a ton of bricks when he realizes. He's eating lunch with you one day and waited for the perfect moment to strike, managing to make you burst out laughing the moment you'd taken a large gulp of your drink.
You spit-take immediately, bursting into giggles even as your drink of choice is dripping down your face and all over the table in front of you. You can't even stop your laughter as you're scolding him, grabbing for fistfuls of napkins and complaining about it running out your nose and "Ace, you absolute jackass!" Even as you yell at him there's no real malice behind it.
He realizes then, through his own chuckles as he hands his napkins over to you, that he wants to make you laugh like that every day for the rest of his life. It's a bit terrifying, honestly, how strongly he feels for you. He doesn't say anything in the moment, but if you pay attention you'd notice that his expression for the rest of lunch was just the slightest bit softer than usual.
"I spy with my little eye... Something that begins with the letter 'D'." You and Deuce had begun an idle time-passing game of I Spy while waiting for Ace to meet up with you, taking turns gazing around your surroundings and making the other figure out what you had in mind. "By the pond... The ducks?" Deuce guessed. "Nope! Not quite."
"The door! The big one, at the main entrance." "Nope! I'll give you a hint though, it's one of my favorite things." Deuce furrowed his brow, head pivoting wildly as he took in everything within your vicinity. "Are you sure it isn't the ducks!?" You barked out a laugh, swatting him on the arm. "No! It's you, dummy. Deuce!"
You could only watch in barely restrained delight as Deuce's face hit a shade of red to rival Riddle's. "Y-You can't pick me! That doesn't count!" "Sure it does! I can see you, can't I?" As the two of you playfully bickered, Deuce refused to let go of what you'd said. he tucked it carefully in the back of his mind, only to be pulled out and acknowledged when he was okay feeling particularly vulnerable. One of your favorite things, was him.
The two of you are enjoying a pleasantly sunny afternoon out on the campus grounds, you sat beneath a tree with Ruggie's head sprawled in your lap so you can fiddle with his little, cubby ears while he relaxes. You mumble something he doesn't quite understand, so he forces himself to crack an eye open. "Whuzzat?"
"I hope you wear a hat in the winter." You respond simply, attention not yet drawn away from his ears. "You lose a lot of heat through your ears, so be sure to wear a hat when it gets really cold out, okay?" He blinks up at you, framed by the sunlight, face serene as you stroke his fur. Even now, in the summerlike heat, you're worrying about his well being?
His heart gives an eager, stuttered thump, and he's most certainly blushing. But he plays it off well, letting his eyes slide back closed and melting back into your touch. "Don't worry 'bout me, I'll be just fine." And he will, as long as you're there with him, at least.
"Jack! You've got a cut on your hand!" "It's just a scratch, Prefect. Nothing to get worked up over." He tries to stop you, but you're already taking him by the wrist and dragging him over to your seat, forcing him to plop down as you scamper off somewhere to get a first aid kit. You return with it quickly, rummaging through the contents until you find an antiseptic wipe and a bandage within.
"You say that now, but you don't want to get anything in it in Alchemy class. Here, let me." Your hands are painfully gentle with him as you wipe over the small open wound, like you're worried you'll somehow hurt him further. Pausing for a moment, you lean in slightly and blow carefully over the cut, as if to try and soothe it, before gently sticking the bandage in place.
Your expression, brow furrowed, lips slightly pursed as you blow over his tiny wound, it's enough to get Jack's heart thundering like a runaway wildebeest. He stammers out an incredibly sharp "Thanks." Before standing up so fast the chair goes tumbling out from behind him. The entire time he's retreating from the room you can see his tail wagging into a fluffy, white blur.
"Azuuuuuul. Take a break. I'm bored." "I'll be done shortly." "We can play cards!" "When I'm finished." "...Go Fish?" Azul sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. As much as he'd come to regret giving you unlimited access to his office at the Mostro Lounge, allowing you to come and go as you saw fit during his working hours, he did have to admit he'd been seated in one place for far too long. His back was starting to get stiff.
"What are you working on anyway? Blackmail?" And suddenly you were behind him, chin tucked on the crown of his head as your arms draped over his shoulders, flopping over his body like a large ragdoll as you peered over his work. He flustered immediately, turning a remarkable shade of red as he began to swat at your intruding arms. "Do you really enjoy bothering me this much every day? Surely there's better entertainment!"
"But I like being around you!" And with one, earnest sentence, you finally chiseled open the doors on Azul's heart and successfully wormed your way inside. For once he couldn't muster up a retort, tucking his chin as his face began to burn. You really liked... Being around him? "J-Just one round of Go Fish then. I suppose. "Yeah! Thanks, Azul!"
(Minor spoilers for Epel's Dorm Uniform SSR!)
Epel had been showing you the blastcycle he'd gotten to help design for Vil's student film, and you couldn't help but smile at the unrestrained joy upon his face as he did. He pored over every detail as he explained all his design choices to you, fingertips dancing up and down the shiny, red surface.
"Ah! Sorry, this must be a bit borin' for ya, isn't it? Hearing me yappin' on like that." He tries to blow it off but you're quick to reassure him. "No way! It's really awesome that you got to design this yourself. I can tell you worked really hard on it, so you should be proud!" He flusters further, tugging at the collar of his shirt and scuffing the toe of his (INCREDIBLY EXPENSIVE) shoe against the pavement.
"Well, uh, I could take ya for a quick spin! If yer interested, I mean. We've got a lil bit of time, anyway." You have to hold tight to Epel's middle as you seat yourself snug behind him on the blastcycle, and it does nothing to quell his racing heartbeat, roaring like an engine in his chest as he revs up the bike.
You and Sebek were sharing a study session, though it seemed like you were doing most of the studying as he seemed to fly through his math assignment with ease. His pencil flicked back and forth across the paper, jotting down formulas and equations so fast it made your head spin. Eventually he must have felt the prickle of your eyes watching, as he turned his attention from the paper to quirk an eyebrow at you.
"Is there something you are not understanding, human?" He asks, you simply sigh in response, letting yourself melt into his shoulder as you whine. "Only everything. I wish I was a super genius about this stuff like you, Sebek. You must work really hard." He always seemed to tense up under any sort of physical contact from you, but in this moment he seemed even more stiff than usual.
That's because your barely conscious compliment of his skills was enough to fluster him into a stock still state. He'd always wanted to work so hard to get complimented by his superiors, by Lord Malleus, so why did a compliment from a mere human feel so... good? Why did it make his heart race so? He would have to look into this, perhaps you were more magically adept than you had thought.
Pairing: Winter Soldier x reader
Word Count: 785 (including lyrics)
Summary: Soldat rescues you or maybe it’s the other way around.
Author’s Note: So I heard Closer by Nine Inch Nails on the radio this morning and well...here ya go. Couldn’t get it out of my head and I LOVE his song. Music strikes once again haha! Listen HERE. Thank you all so much for reading. Much love to you always! ❤️❤️❤️ Divider by my love @firefly-graphics
PS: Russian translations in parentheses (google translate) and italics. Lyrics are NOT MINE (also in italics), thank you to NIN for blessing us with this song (and all their songs haha)
Warnings: cursing, light knife play and choking, smut (18 + ONLY PLEASE!!!)
Gif NOT MINE: Credit to @sebastianruinedme thank you bunches! 🥰
The thunderous beat of your heart is the only other sound you hear over the bodies hitting the floor. Not even his movements can be heard as he soundlessly cuts his way through the guards. When the last body thuds lifelessly at his feet there is utter silence. Blood rushes through your ears and you flatten yourself against the far wall.
You let me violate you
You let me desecrate you
You let me penetrate you
You let me complicate you
There is no light in the room other than the pale glow of the moon through the thin bars of the window. The sound of metal-on-metal pierces the silence and a small whisper of light dances off the blade of the knife that now sticks through the door.
You can faintly make out the red tinge of blood that coats the tip, but the door flies off the hinges before you have more time to think on it.
“Soldat?” you whisper.
Help me; I broke apart my insides
Help me; I’ve got no soul to sell
Help me; the only thing that works for me
Help me get away from myself
His footsteps are deliberate and you don’t realize how quickly he reaches you until he’s close enough that his chest brushes yours with his deep inhale. His mask falls to the ground. His eyes, darkened even though the moonlight illuminates them, soften and wander over your face.
“Printsessa,” he whispers, lifting his metal hand to cradle your cheek. “Ya chuvstvuyu tvoy zapakh.” (I can smell you)
You sigh, your eyelashes fluttering closed at his touch. He drops his hand and presses you into the wall, the buckles of his leather vest digging into your skin.
I wanna fuck you like an animal
I wanna feel you from the inside
I wanna fuck you like an animal
My whole existence is flawed
The knife, now clean of blood, spins between his fingers before slicing across the material at your chest. It falls open, exposing your skin and he trails the blunt edge between your breasts. His movements are skillfully executed and it only takes seconds for you to be bare before him.
He wastes no time, sliding his flesh hand down your stomach and teasing his fingers between your legs, the lace there stretched tight and soaked with your arousal. He tears the material from your hips with a growl and coats his fingers before lifting them to his lips and licking them clean.
“Ya khochu chuvstvovat’ tebya iznutri.” (I want to feel you from the inside)
His tactical pants fall around his ankles and he grabs your thigh, lifting your leg and spreading you open. The tip of his cock nudges at your entrance, slipping through the wetness.
You get me closer to God
You can have my isolation; you can have the hate that it brings
You can have my absence of faith; you can have my everything
He stills but only long enough to ghost his metal fingers across your collarbone and close them around your neck. Your body aches for him and you clench around nothing, desperate for him to fill you.
You whine his name and he silences you with a kiss, nipping at sucking at your bottom lip as he pushes himself into you slowly. You smooth your hands down his chest and grab his ass, pulling him closer.
“You can have my everything.”
At your words he surrenders all of his control, filling you completely in one hard push. The stretch edges on the sweetest pain and your back rubs along the concrete wall with every hard thrust of his hips.
Help me tear down my reason
Help me; it’s your sex I can smell
Help me; you make me perfect
Help me become somebody else
His pace is relentless and he lifts your other leg, wrapping them both around his waist to sink deeper. His grip on your throat tightens and your walls squeeze around his cock. He throbs inside of you, grunting when you grab his hair and tug his lips back to yours.
It’s not enough. Not close enough. You arch your back and he goes deeper, his chest vibrating with a rumble of need.
I wanna fuck you like an animal
I wanna feel you from the inside
I wanna fuck you like an animal
My whole existence is flawed
“Ty prichina po kotoroy ya ostayus’ v zhivykh,” he whispers into your skin. (You are the reason I stay alive)
You get me closer to God
Through every forest, above the trees
Within my stomach, scraped off my knees
I drink the honey inside you hive
You are the reason I stay alive
I felt this needed a part 2
Part 1 can be found here
Pick a song that makes you feel like you're in a place the said song is echoing in your ears or pick a song you want playing in a car during a long drive or on a summer night. Make this special for you!
To book a personal reading with me DM or email me at [email protected]
with your name and query 🌙
1. You make me so nervous
At the same time I want to risk everything.
Should I just write to you already?
If ink could manage to express how I feel I would be equal parts amused and equal parts relived.
I fear I'd just stutter anyway.
But I'll find my ways to let you know.
My eyes are on you anyway.
The surroundings seem to immediately dull down in colors when I look at you.
You have it all and you'll have more. Self made, radiant... Here I am, actively waiting. God please, no more waiting games. I'd rather give you my everything. Let me spoil you my darling. As shy as I may seem, there's a fire in my heart too some for my dreams and the rest for you.
2. Life has fallen apart quite a few times for me and I've built myself back up again. I know you've done that too. But a lot better than me.
You amaze me.
Simply because you hit me like a lightning strike cracking straight across my heart and I've been praying ever since that our ways cross.
May I take your hand? Do you deem me worthy?
Perhaps we'll meet when we let go.
I just know, wherever you are in this world. I'll find an excuse just to find you. I can promise you, you'll never be alone. Even in the cruelest winter, I'll keep you warm.
3. I've mourned love. I've mourned life. And then I've mourned my soul.
I don't want to be this way and I've decided that I wont. It takes time, I know.
I only ask for what I can give. Patience, kindness and sincerity.
My heart is like a brick in my chest and you melt all the hard edges away. I fear how vulnerable you make me but I find my safety there too.
Be my friend and I'll be by your side forever till we can hold each other like lovers.
I'd rather talk to you. I'd rather know you. Just you. As you are. It don't matter if we don't make any sense at all.
I'd rather... You
4. Look at me
Let me get lost in you,
This is the first time I've found myself.
I won't hesitate to fall and keep falling if the chances include falling into your arms.
Take my hand?
Are you real.
I think I dreamt you into reality.
I'm tounge tied it seems. Yeah, I know I'm younger than you and I can be naive and a little ridiculous.
But then you do this thing where you bring out this side in me I never knew.
So you turned my world around and all I can think of is trying to wrap my feelings in words or is it my endless thoughts in feelings?
I don't know.
Look at me, hey. Let me write you into poetry. Paint you into my skin. Frame you in my world.
Yeah, I'm a fool. Risking this heart once again. That after all, may have always belonged to you.
whatever i’ve done, i did it for love
summary: living the life of a harbinger oftens twists ones’ view, especially when you involve their loved ones.
pairings (separate): childe, capitano, arlecchino, pantalone, and dottore x reader
reader info: uses gender neutral pronouns (they/them), is in an established relation with characters mentioned, and is not the traveler
word count: 1,605 words (400~ words each) (8 mins~ total) (1 min 40 sec~ each)
warnings: technically OOC harbingers (excluding childe), harbingers doing things in “the name of love,” light gore (brief mentions of blood and killing), torture of background characters, and brief mentions of electric shocks
a/n: this song is heavily inspired by One More Hour by Tame Impala. it was randomly stuck in my head, despite never listening to it fully, and i now present you with this💖 i hope you all enjoy💖
ajax, childe, tartgalia, or whatever he goes by, has always loved you.
he looks at you like you are the sole thing keeping him warm during the bitter winters of snezhnaya. as if your smile alone could warm ajax to his core, leaving him almost weak in the knees every time you smiled so brightly. and the kisses you peppered across his cheeks? the burning blush that follows after could only compare to the burning sensation at the risk of frost bite.
and ajax would gladly lean into you as your lips touch each faint freckle, because he seeks your company and love like a moth to a flame.
which is why he would gladly do anything for you in the name of “pure” love.
i am only protecting you, ajax reasons as he cuts down his targets in one broad strike. they all fall to the floor with in sickening synchronization. the blood that pools by their bodies barely makes him stiffen when he remembers it’s all for you.
ajax casually steps over their cold bodies as he makes his way out the back door, the sound of incoming guards approaching. but ajax isn’t scared.
no, he only sends some arrows their way. soon the shouting stops and he only hears their bodies hit the floor. ajax barely spares them a look as his mind whirls to life, his usually lifeless eyes sparkling at the thought of you.
and once he returns from the mission and receives his praise and payment from the tsaritsa, ajax finds his way to you. he barges into your shared home and searches for your form briefly, before he sees you running up to meet him. and ajax scoops you up, despite your protests, and kisses you deeply.
whatever i’ve done, ajax thinks as he stares into your eyes, i did it for love.
fighting for the tsarita is no small feat. and commanding an army full of loyal soldiers isn’t either.
and yet, capitano almost feels guilty as he sends his soldiers out to battle. he shouldn’t though. as soon as he had joined the rest of the harbingers, capitano had privately sworn to himself to never feel guiltiness or regret. each move he makes must be calculated to be in the tsarita’s favour. or else.
but he still feels regretful when the death toll rises, when more heavily injured soldiers join their comrades above. then capitano finds shame consuming him as he tries to plan positions more carefully. he can’t help but think of the families behind each soldier, all waiting for them back home.
and he is familiar with the feeling he sees across each soldier’s face: homesickness. some days, he feels that same feeling creep up onto him. during those days, capitano wants to give in to his selfish desires to flee the battlefield and return home to you.
he wants to be welcomed into your embrace as he sobs into your shoulder, missing every single inch of you. capitano never wants to face the horrors of war again, he just wants to be with you and you alone. his heart aches for the day he can just coexist with you. he wants to live without any worry of who dies and who lives, only worrying and fretting over you.
but the fear of disappointing the tsarita is greater than his need to be in your presence again. so, capitano places his helmet over his head as he relays the next battle plans to his nearby soldiers.
whatever i do, capitano thinks as he leads them out of the camp, i will do it for love.
not a day goes by where arlecchino isn’t in love with you.
when arlecchino looks at you, for once in her life she wants to let go of every worry and fear. she wants to trust you with every fiber of her being and not look back. because she looks at you and she sees a future together, full of love and support. and, because arlecchino loves you so, so, so much that she would do absolutely anything to protect you.
including punishing some pea-brained subordinates when they bad mouthed you in front of her. for some reason, those low lives decided to run their mouths without even checking if the cost was clear. idiots, she thinks to herself as they fall to their knees, pleading for mercy. she tossed them across the hall without a second thought as she continued her day. idiots like them don’t deserve another moment of your time, arlecchino imagined you would say.
when the tsaritsa heard of this dispute, she wasn’t so pleased with arlecchino. she never is when this happens.
this is now the third time in a row where arlecchino was called in for this behavior. at this point, it had become very clear to both arlecchino and the cryo archon that she was very loyal towards you. to the point where her loyalty to you outweighed her loyalty to the tsaritsa.
apparently, the two soldiers she pummeled just “didn’t know better.” arlecchino merely huffed and rolls her eyes at the tsaritsa, finding this meeting utterly pointless. disgruntled by her subordinate’s behavior, the tsaritsa then told her that she’s “too invested in this fling” to be acting like this.
“with all due respect, your majesty,” arlecchino said, not caring that she was challenging the tsaritsa, “they are mine, and i would do anything for them.”
the tsaritsa tilted her head. “and the reason behind this...?”
“because i would— and will— do it for love,” arlecchino clarified. “and i will do it for my love, your majesty.”
pantalone wonders how you haven’t fallen out of love with him.
of course, pantalone is grateful that you love him still. he appreciates each heartfelt look you give him, whether it be when you two are settled in bed or from opposite ends of the room. where ever you are, pantalone will always be able to see the love that practically pours from your eyes.
and he absolutely treasures each fleeting touch he receives from you. if not for his reputation and prying eyes, pantalone would lean into your side each time you hold his hand in public. each embrace between you two goes on for longer than you intend, pantalone’s hands almost digging into your hips to keep you in place. if he had it his way, pantalone would have you two conjoined at the hip.
pantalone just wished he didn’t have to go through such violent means to put pearls on your wrists and bread on the table.
the drunkard, someone who’s debt to the tsaritsa was unpaid for, swung widely at pantalone. agile as ever, he ducked as the drunk’s hand collided with the guard who hovered by pantalone. in one motion, he turned around and reared his fist back. clenching his teeth, pantalone’s fist made contact with the drunk’s face.
“look through his pockets,” he commanded his soldiers, idly popping his knuckles as he stepped out of the alleyway. “if he can afford a drink, then he can pay off his debt to the tsaritsa.”
while the guards obey his command, pantalone fishes out a silver necklace that was tucked under his shirt. he rubbed over the locket’s surface before pressing down on it, smiling with satisfaction when it popped open. inside was a photo of you and pantalone, his favorite photo of you two.
whatever i’ve done, he justifies as he stashes the locket away, i did it for love.
dottore’s methods of torture are sadistic. they always have been. but it seems whenever you were mentioned, his ways of torture were more humiliating and cruel.
and someone just had to give their opinion on your relationship just as dottore had rounded the corner. which soured his mood completely, by the way, and almost ruined his day.
and in all honesty, he didn’t want to torture this new recruit. but who was going to stop dottore from teaching the new recruits how things work around here? exactly, no one.
just like how no one could hear the pleas and screams coming from dottore’s lab. and if they did, they just pretended otherwise. he didn’t really care that much. the tsaritsa could have heard it all and he’d shrug it off, as he found teaching the new recruits much more entertaining.
“and what was it you said about my darling?” he prompts, fingers hovering just above the button on his remote.
“he said they were just some experiment for you,” a different soldier spoke up, “that you were only toying around with their feelings!”
dottore nodded. “interesting. thank you for your honesty, soldier. the tsaritsa doesn’t take too kindly to liars,” he pressed down on his remote and smiled wickedly when the strapped down soldier jolted. “and neither do i.”
later, the tsaritsa had called for him. she never liked whenever he did these meetings. she found his methods to bring more pleasure for dottore than teaching experience. so, dottore gave her a simple— no, an expected excuse for his behaviour.
“what i did,” he reports to the tsartisa, “i did it for fun.”
that’s a lie though. because dottore loves you, even though he might not always show it. he loves you so much, and dottore feels so lucky to have you. he is thankful for your patience whenever he tries to use words, he knows it can be hard. and he appreciates your love every day, so he would do anything for you.
whatever i’ve done, he thinks to himself as leaves the meeting, i did it for love.
thank you for reading 💖 all forms of interaction to my posts are appreciated 💖