#˖.˚ ☾ 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ˳ ࣪⭒

[lavendercitizen]

changed my tags up a little !

[aniesvision]

𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 | 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝟓

𐂂 𝚌𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚘 𝚡 𝚏! 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔, 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕, 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒐𝒇𝒕 𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆, 𝒂𝒍𝒔𝒐 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒛𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔, 𝒇𝒍𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒋𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒚 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒏𝒕, ��𝒖𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆, 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒐𝒖𝒕, 𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒐𝒃𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒍𝒚, 𝒊𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕'𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒍

𝚊/𝚗: 𝒉𝒆𝒚! 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒏𝒆'𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒊 𝒎𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒂 𝒃𝒐𝒏𝒖𝒔 𝒐𝒏𝒆, 𝒊 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒈𝒖𝒚𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒊𝒕, 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒕 ♡︎ 𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆, 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚 ☕︎

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆

I didn't miss the fact that he said he wouldn't have preferred to go on the date, but it wasn't my place to ask about it. He could talk to his brothers if he wanted to, I'm not going to insist on knowing about his dates with other girls.

We sat in silence for a few seconds, not exactly getting along, but not having anything to argue with each other about. It was still afternoon and from what Nick had said they wouldn't be arriving until night, so time wasn't in my favor.

I noticed that Chris's phone kept vibrating on the nightstand, and he finally picked it up to check the notifications. I didn't want to be nosy, but I could see out of the corner of my eye that they were texts from Nick and one of them said "you do NOT hate her".

I didn't know who or what they were talking about, but I didn't allow myself to read the rest.

I sigh tiredly, picking up my own phone and scanning through the notifications and social medias before being interrupted by Chris taking the phone out of my hand and locking it, leaving it with his on the nightstand.

I looked at him confused and a bit annoyed as he stared at me intently, as if he needed to say something serious, so I waited for him to say it.

-Do you hate me? -He asks and I almost laugh in his face.

He really was asking me that. Just now. What does he expects? What does he wants? Of course, hate is a strong word, but I couldn't say I like him either.

We've never got along, that much was clear, today was the first day we'd been forced to interact more, and since I woke up there had been nothing but implications, fights, and when we were okay with each other we were still making fun of ourselves.

-Not really. -I answer honestly.

After all, as I said, I don't hate him, we're just not friends.

My answer seemed to relieve him somehow, his body relaxed and he allowed himself to sit closer to me, not saying anything else for a few minutes.

-I don't hate you either. -He whispers, like he wasn't sure if he wanted me to hear it.

I smile when I hear him say it, still not understanding why, but knowing that it was genuine and not sarcastic. At least it sounded honest.

-I know, you've been obsessed with me ever since we met. Fighting with me isn't going to make me want you, Chris, I thought you already knew that. -I decided to lighten up the mood with another joke, which seemed to work as he chuckled, shaking him head a little bit.

-Really? And how can I make you want me? -He asks with an arched eyebrow and a smirk.

-You wouldn't be able to, but lucky for you, you've got lots of girls to ask out on dates, much hotter than me, don't you? -I remind him of our last talks.

Maybe I didn't like how that came out. Not when he looked at me with a look that I still didn't know how to read and still can't explain, but I should've been happy that I'd gotten to that point and really messed with him.

But it didn't feel right.

-I think you're wrong. As always. -He replied, his voice a little more serious this time.

-Wrong about what?

-I could make you want me if I wanted to.

Chris looks at me with his usual smirk. Why did he sound different? It wasn't a fight, it wasn't an argument, maybe he was just making fun of me, but if that's the case, he'll be dead by tomorrow.

That sentence made me so nervous that my body seemed paralyzed. I'd never been like this with him before, not unless he'd said something really hurtful in a fight.

We're not friends, but when we know we're crossing the line we always apologize to each other.

At first, the apology was forced by our friends, but then it came naturally. We didn't want to be "bad", we just weren't exactly people who would go out together to have fun.

There were always fights, and sometimes they got serious, but that's just how Chris and I treat each other.

-What? -I ask, not realizing that I sounded extremely dumb at the moment.

But he didn't drop the serious look either as he repeated the phrase.

-I could make you want me. I could even win you over if I wanted to. -He shrugs.

We're not even friends. As far as anyone can see and think, we hate each other. Not everyone, but the only ones who think otherwise are his brothers, who coincidentally happen to be my best friends, so it's not as if they know something I don't know.

Or that Chris doesn't know.

Or that we don't know.

-You can try if you insist. -I say, trying to sound nonchalant.

-Are you sure about that? -He asks.

Why am I so nervous? It's just a question and he's clearly making fun of me. I just smile, preferring not to answer anything.

I turn off the tv and leave the room, going to Matt's room and grabbing my backpack. I didn't really know what to do or what I'd picked up, I just needed to get away from him before I started thinking too much about things I shouldn't be thinking about.

I grabbed a black simple hoodie and put it on, considering that it was getting close to sunset and a cold wind was coming through the windows.

I walked back to the living room, intending to stay there rather than walk to Chris's room again, but it didn't make any difference as he appeared a few minutes later, sitting down so close to me that our legs were touching.

I put the same show I was watching earlier back on, looking at my phone quickly to realize it was 6pm. As long as I know, it's alright night, where the hell are Nick and Matt?

-Do you think we need to talk? -Chris breaks the silence between us, making me turn my face towards him with a confused expression.

He was close. Very close, the kind we've never been before, at least not without yelling at each other. His eyes exhaled a calmness that I didn't feel when I looked at him and he seemed a little nervous, considering that his leg was moving non-stop.

-About what? -I asked, still not getting the point of a conversation.

For once, he didn't seem out of patience or about to shout at me.

-I don't think I want you to keep hating me. -He begins to speak, placing one hand on the back of his neck, his cheeks starting to turn pink.

-I don't hate you, Chris. -I answer, tilting my head slightly in confusion, one eyebrow arched.

Why was he talking about that? And why did he look so nervous? Was that some kind of prank?

-You don't get it. -He sighs, removing his hand from the back of his neck.

For some weird reason, he turned sideways to face me, grabbing my hands in his. I wasn't sure how to react, considering this never happened before, so I just let it happen, wondering where this was going to end.

-I think I want to win you over. -His words were barely above a whisper, and he looked like a tomato by now.

I feel my heart racing. What? Win me over? Did Chris Sturniolo just said that he doesn't want ME to hate him because he wants to win ME over? The person he fights with every day?

-Okay, Chris, I don't know what you're doing, if you're just making fun of me one more time, but that's not cool. I'm not one of the poor girls you talk to.

I decided to go straight to the point, seeing no reason to lie, giving him the perfect opportunity to confess if he was pranking me. But he didn't, instead he squeezed my hand in his and looked at me with the most serious look I've ever seen.

-I'm not, and believe me, I wish I was. But Nick was right, I think the reason I've always treated you badly is because I knew I'd never be able to have you. And Matt was right too, seeing you with him wasn't the best thing in the world, even though you guys weren't together. When I thought you were dating Matt it pissed me off...

He lets the words come out naturally, his hands shaking against mine and his eyes diverting to the floor.

I didn't expect this, obviously not, but it means that he has already spoken about me to Nick and Matt in a way that wasn't mean or bad. It means that maybe he wasn't as ridiculous as I thought and maybe he could even be decent.

I knew he could be nice, but not to me, he never was. Not until now. And then I remembered the text I'd seen from Nick on his phone earlier. "you do NOT hate her". They were talking about me. Chris was probably trying to understand how he felt at that moment, even though I was on his side and even though we'd had a fight just a few minutes before.

Was Nick really right after all? Chris and I liked each other and we just needed a little push? It doesn't feel right, but it doesn't feel so wrong either.

I don't know how to feel, all I know is that I'd been nervous and not in a bad way for the first time about Chris. And my heart had raced for him, that's a new feeling and I never thought I would feel it, not for him.

And then I realized one more detail. Chris came into Matt's room when I was there looking for me to ask me if Matt and I were together. Not Matt.

-So you were jealous. -I said, drawing the boy's attention back to me, confused by my words.

-You got jealous when you thought I was dating Matt. -I explain, giving him a confident, almost victorious smile, as I see his cheeks turn extremely red.

-I wasn't jealous, I just didn't want you to date him. He's my brother. -He tries to explain but ends up blushing even more.

-Well, it doesn't matter, Matt and I have nothing but friendship. -I say, feeling him involuntarily squeezing my hands and dropping it instantly when he realizes.

-Good, so I have a chance with you. -He says, running one of his hands through his hair and then placing it on the top of the backrest of the couch, behind me, messing with my hair.

What is he doing? Is he flirting with me?

-What makes you think I'd give you a chance? -I asked, amused but still not giving up and softening to his words.

Unfortunately his small smile after my reply and his hand playing with my hair really distracted me from the pose I was supposed to hold and that wasn't a good sign.

To make things worse, I see him leaning closer to me and I feel like my heart could burst out of my chest from how nervous I was at the sudden closeness.

-I know you will. -He says confidently.

The hand that had been playing with my hair found my face, his thumb gently rubbing my cheek.

Chris drops his gaze to my lips and smirks, leaving us just a few inches apart.

-You shouldn't be so cocky. -I smile back, raising an eyebrow without pulling away.

I'm not sure why I didn't move, but I was so curious about this, so intrigued, and some part of me didn't really want to reject him for some reason. So I didn't.

-You should shut up for once and let me kiss you.

His voice was low and hoarse, pupils dilated and his expression different than the ones I've seen before. It looked like he was eating me with his eyes, anxious to close the gap between us.

Without me saying another word, not making a rejection clear, Chris took that as a good sign and pressed his lips against mine.

My hand took hold of his face, pulling him even closer, tilting my head to let him deepen the kiss when his tongue slides in.

We only stopped to breathe, not leaving much distance between us. His smirk comes back, but he doesn't waist any time before going for another kiss, this time a little more intense.

Chris pulls me to sit on his lap and moves his hands to my ass, squeezing lightly, making me involuntarily grind on him.

A part of me hated myself for giving in so easily and letting things get to this point, but on the other hand it seemed almost impossible to reject him. And that's strange.

As soon as we pulled apart again, Chris smiled at me and I smiled back, one of the first times I'd ever seen a genuine smile on his face. And probably the first time we smiled at each other.

-Please tell me I really have a chance of winning you over. -He closes his eyes, placing both hands on my hips.

-You do. -I reply, giggling.

I scanned every detail of Chris's face, taking advantage of the fact that he was close enough. He seemed to be doing the same, as we sat in silence just enjoying each other's company. No fighting, no picking on each other, no making fun of each other's faces, not even angry or with any bad feelings.

-Can I kiss you again? -He asks, making my heart race.

I nodded and he immediately kissed me again.

Our lips moved so perfectly together and we were so focused on the moment that we didn't even heard the front door unlocking and Nick and Matt coming up the stairs.

-OH MY GOD! -Nick shouts from the top of the stairs, looking at us with his mouth open in shock.

We quickly separated and I sat down on the couch, looking away in embarrassment. I could feel my face burning.

-So you guys finally found out that I was right. I'm never wrong, I knew it, you're just two idiots. -Nick continues talking, pointing at us.

Matt just laughs and looks at Chris, looking like a proud mom. I glanced at Chris and he looked as embarrassed as I was. Great.

-Ok, let's leave them alone, Nick. -Matt says, pushing Nick to his room.

I look at Chris in silence and after a few seconds we just laugh, finding the whole situation completely weird.

-Well, now that we can go out, do you want to go on a date with me? -Chris asks, looking at me anxiously.

Although it was all moving too fast, it didn't felt like it was rushed. We know each other for such a long time, not getting along doesn't mean we were complete strangers, but we still have a lot to learn about each other.

-I thought you were going to call the other girl to make up for not going to the date. -I say, laughing at his face and feeling him nudging me lightly, rolling his eyes.

-Of course I want to.

He stood up and took my hand in his, interlocking our fingers and guiding me to the stairs.

-WE'RE LEAVING. -Chris shouts for his brothers to hear.

-Oh my God, Matt, they love each other. -We hear Nick whispering.

-Shut up, Nick. -Matt whispers back.

-OK. -Matt shouts soon after.

-HAVE FUN! -Nick yells in a singing voice.

Chris quickly drags me out of the house, his cheeks a bit red as I laugh at his brother's reactions.

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔 ✍︎

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[flamingofethers]

𝙲𝚁𝙾𝙲𝙾𝙳𝙸𝙻𝙴 𝚡 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁(𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝)

𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚋𝚢@hk-4ever

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

“Wearing my coat and and in the arms of another man? I’ve been to nice to you my dear..let me show you what happens to brats”

༼𓆊.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.𓆊༽

𝚆𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚘 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚓𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚝. 𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚗 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚕𝚎. 𝚆𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚗. 𝚂𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚞𝚙 𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚙 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚞𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚍 𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 . 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔. "𝙷𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐" 𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚜 "𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝙸 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 . 𝚆𝚑𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐" 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚠𝚛𝚊𝚙 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖 . 𝙾𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜. "𝙸'𝚖 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞" 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊 𝚠𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚛 "𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚢". "𝙾𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚢".{𝚎𝚗𝚍}

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

𝑴𝒐𝒕𝒉-𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒐 𝑰 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚𝒆𝒅 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒇 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒎𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒊𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒕 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝑰'𝒎 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒓𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕�� 𝒇𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈,,❦

[dreamyinception-world]

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.☾‧͙⁺˚･༓‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘭𝘰𝘸.

𝘞𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘰𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘦?

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.☾‧͙⁺˚･༓‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

𝑾𝒆𝒍𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕! 𝑩𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒖𝒔 𝒇𝒂𝒓! 𝑨𝒔 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆𝒅, 𝑰 𝒂𝒅𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒉𝒆𝒓���! 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈!

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.☾‧͙⁺˚･༓‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

𝘈𝘴 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳. 𝘈𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘪𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺.

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.☾‧͙⁺˚･༓‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.☾‧͙⁺˚･༓‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

𝔹𝕖𝕔𝕒𝕦𝕤𝕖 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝔻𝕖𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕧𝕖 𝕀𝕥 - 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋��� | 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝗌𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗐𝖺, 𝗒𝖾𝗈𝗌𝖺𝗇𝗀 + 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗃𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗀 | 𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍

𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝖧𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗃𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖸𝖾𝗈𝗌𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗎𝗉, 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖽𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄. 𝖧𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋, 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗒, 𝖸𝖾𝗈𝗌𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾..𝖿𝗎𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝖽𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝖥𝖺𝖼𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅.

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.☾‧͙⁺˚･༓‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.☾‧͙⁺˚･༓‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

𝔽𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕎𝕚𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕥 ℍ𝕠𝕞𝕖 - 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 | 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘴𝘢𝘯 + 𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘈𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘬𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘯, 𝘢 𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯’𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘢.

𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘰 ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦

𝔹𝕖𝕔𝕒𝕦𝕤𝕖 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝔻𝕖𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕧𝕖 𝕀𝕥 - 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 | 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝗌𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗐𝖺, 𝗒𝖾𝗈𝗌𝖺𝗇𝗀 + 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗃𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗀 | 𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍

𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝖧𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗃𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖸𝖾𝗈𝗌𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗎𝗉, 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖽𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄. 𝖧𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋, 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗒, 𝖸𝖾𝗈𝗌𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾..𝖿𝗎𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝖽𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝖥𝖺𝖼𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅.

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.☾‧͙⁺˚･༓‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

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𝘔𝘺 𝘌𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘚𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘦 - 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 & 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵 | 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 + 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘋𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘠𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪’𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴. 𝘉𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵��𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱, 𝘠𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘨𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘴, 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳.

𝕄𝕪 𝕊𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕥 𝕋𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥 - 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 | 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝗒𝗎𝗇𝗁𝗈 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘖𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘥𝘢𝘺, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘬𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘯– 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 1 𓈀⋅ 🍵𓄹𓂃 𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 2 𓈀⋅ 🍵𓄹𓂃

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.☾‧͙⁺˚･༓‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.☾‧͙⁺˚･༓‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

𝔹𝕖𝕔𝕒𝕦𝕤𝕖 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝔻𝕖𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕧𝕖 𝕀𝕥 - 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 | 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝗌𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗐𝖺, 𝗒𝖾𝗈𝗌𝖺𝗇𝗀 + 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗃𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗀 | 𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍

𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝖧𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗃𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖸𝖾𝗈𝗌𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗎𝗉, 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖽𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄. 𝖧𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋, 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗒, 𝖸𝖾𝗈𝗌𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾..𝖿𝗎𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝖽𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝖥𝖺𝖼𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅.

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.☾‧͙⁺˚･༓‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

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𝔽𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕎𝕚𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕥 ℍ𝕠𝕞𝕖 - 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 | 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘴𝘢𝘯 + 𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘈𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘬𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘯, 𝘢 𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯’𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘢.

𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘰 ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.☾‧͙⁺˚･༓‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

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𝘔𝘺 𝘌𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘚𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘦 - 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 & 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵 | 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 + 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘋𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘠𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪’𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴. 𝘉𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱, 𝘠𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘨𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘴, 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳.

𝔅𝔲𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔇𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔯𝔢 - 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 + 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍 | 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗂 + 𝗃𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈

𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝖮𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖺 𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗄, 𝖬𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗂 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖢𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗅 𝖢𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝖥𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝖲𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗀𝗂𝖿𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝖾𝖿 𝗈𝖿𝖿𝗂𝖼𝖾𝗋, 𝖩𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈, 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖺 𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾. 𝖧𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋, 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽, 𝖩𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝗌𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍’𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝗈𝗒’𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗍𝗎𝖽𝖾.

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.☾‧͙⁺˚･༓‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

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𝒜 𝒮𝒾𝓂𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉 - 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 + 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍 | 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝗐𝗈𝗈𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗀 + 𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝖮𝗇 𝖺 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗏𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗀𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗎𝗇 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌, 𝖺 𝗆𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗁𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗒.

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𝔅𝔲𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔇𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔯𝔢 - 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 + 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍 | 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗂 + 𝗃𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈

𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝖮𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖺 𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗄, 𝖬𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗂 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖢𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗅 𝖢𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝖥𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝖲𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗀𝗂𝖿𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝖾𝖿 𝗈𝖿𝖿𝗂𝖼𝖾𝗋, 𝖩𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈, 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖺 𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾. 𝖧𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋, 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽, 𝖩𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝗌𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍’𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝗈𝗒’𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗍𝗎𝖽𝖾.

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𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 - 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝖤𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗌, 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗆𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖿𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍. 𝖥𝗈𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗀𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝖲𝖺𝗇, 𝖶𝗈𝗈𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖸𝖾𝗈𝗌𝖺𝗇𝗀, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝗅𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋'𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗌 𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗌. 𝖠𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗌: 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝖿𝖺𝗋 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍?

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘶𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘮𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 -𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢-

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𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴: 𝘰𝘯𝘦 | 𝘵𝘸𝘰 | 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 | 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳 | 𝘧𝘪𝘷𝘦 | 𝘴𝘪𝘹 | 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 | 𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 | 𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘦

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͎u͎͎n͎͎i͎͎d͎͎e͎͎n͎͎t͎͎i͎͎f͎͎i͎͎e͎͎d͎ ͎e͎͎n͎͎t͎͎r͎͎y͎

..••°°°°••..°°••….••°° 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯 ..••°°°°••..°°••….••°°

©𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏-𝒘𝒐𝒓��𝒅/𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒂 2023 || 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏. 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 ♡

𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘊𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘈𝘵𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯-𝘕𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭-𝘕𝘰𝘋𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 4.0 𝘐𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘓𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦

[loneliestluvr]

✧˖° “ 𝒊 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒐 𝒊 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒈𝒐 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕 𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅. ” ₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒚𝒏. 𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏. 𝒕𝒂𝒖𝒓𝒖𝒔. 𝒃𝒊. 𝒔𝒘𝒊𝒇𝒕𝒊𝒆. 𝒔𝒉𝒆/𝒉𝒆𝒓

𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒓/𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓. 𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒋𝒎 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆.

𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒏! 𖤓. masterlist. rules.

House of Eternal Flame — coming soon

𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒍𝒚 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈: nothing ✧.*

[lavendercitizen]

I finally was able to sit down and reread this and 1. how dare you 2. MIRRRRR😭

You. did. that. Lumby is so sweet and blushy I'm crying

[...]The sharp daggers embedded into his heart still left their sting, echoes of her words, 'You’re a fucking hermit. No one wants a man who can’t function in public. It’s embarrassing, really. I don’t want to live in the woods, let alone with you.'

I am ready to fight. In tears. But I'll still fight her😭. I cannot believe anyone would ever dare to say that to lumby, he's the man of my dreams.

Stupid ex aside !! This fic was like fresh sheets, and soft rain and daydreams combined, the way you conveyed their love and Bucky's touch, and everything in between, with such gentle and poetic language— it's endearing, like the warmest of hugs, and above everything I am, as always, blown away by your writing skills, my beautiful mir, this is divinity and worship all over :'). Their love is so pure and it's everything to me.

“Me? You love me?” he laughs, in between his vicious attack against your cheeks. “I love you so much,” his lips trail down your jaw, “I love you,” to your collarbone, “so much. So so much.”

These two are actual perfection. ❤️

enraptured

beefy lumberjack!bucky x f!reader (lumby and bunny au)

w.c: fucking long i’m so sorry i have no control (8k)

warnings: SMUT, angst/mention of Bucky’s past, oral (f rec), p in v, dom+needy!bucky (this is lumby we are talking ab), fluff, he’s so in love that it’s actually rude and you might die

summary: Bucky’s never been so scared of a feeling in his life. there are too many what if's– too many fears bubbling deep within the parts of him left broken and hollow, untouched for far too long. but he never envisioned finding you– and he’s entirely too impatient; entirely too certain no one’s ever been more infatuated with something than how he feels for you.

a/n: the long overdo lumby and bunny’s first time. i’m so nervous to share this with you and i rewrote this about 3 times lmao. not proofread, all mistakes are my own. i hope you enjoy and please feel free to let me know what you think. tumblr did not want me posting this apparently, please read it lol xo

𝐢 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤. 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢

Keep reading

[lavendercitizen]

This is actually heaven, smooshed between my two favorite alphas❤️

I just love how delicate they are with their omega, and how much control she maintains due to their extensive love and care. How could you not feel safe with them honestly :') I missed these two so much and this was, as always, beautifully written <3

A Proper Welcome - Part 2

Pairing: Mechanic Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader x Carpenter Alpha!Hal Carter Summary: Bucky and Hal help you through the beginning of your heat. Word Count: Over 3.3k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), threesome, spitroasting, a/b/o dynamics, conflicting feelings (everything is consensual), talk of safe word, stubborn reader (is that a warning?), Alpha!Bucky and Alpha!Hal (they are warnings, okay?). A/N: Only took me 9 months to get to the next part of A Proper Welcome done for you lovelies! Excited once again to share more this particular reader and relationship as it unfolds. Beta read by the amazing @christywantspizza​ , but any and all mistakes are my own. Thank you, lovely! Moodboard created by yours truly and banners by the lovely @maysdigitalarts .

Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog​ for new fics and updates. Reblogs, comments or asks are welcome as feedback is appreciated!

You weren't sure what you expected to happen after you ordered your alphas to own you, but they didn't move after they both removed their shoes. True to their word, they waited for you to open the door. Your hand shook as you reached for the handle, your defenses still fighting your instincts. Bucky placed his hand over yours when you made no move to open it. You were shocked you were still upright. 

“Are you having second thoughts? Are you scared?”

You almost shrank back, not because you didn’t want his hands on you. No, you craved him and Hal. That was the problem. “A bit scared,” you admitted, quickly shaking your head. “Doesn’t matter. Just need you to fuck me.”

“It matters if you’re scared of us,” Hal said, placing his hand on the back of your neck. He didn’t squeeze or apply any pressure, but it soothed you more than you expected. “You need to tell us. Please.” 

Your body responded instantly to the combined touch, warmth spreading from your chest down between your legs. “Not scared of you. I’m scared of what happens after,” you felt a tear fall before you could stop yourself. Because Hal was right, everything would change once they had you. 

“Didn’t you say we’ll talk after this is over?” he reminded you. “We’ll figure this out.”

“But why would you want me without your marks?” you asked. At least, you thought you asked. Your words felt heavy on your tongue as you tried to turn the handle. It wasn't easy to fight biology.

I don’t want my alphas to reject me. Why do they have that power over me? Why am I giving them that?

“Open the door, baby, and we’ll show you how much we want you. Marked or not,” Hal said against the shell of your ear. 

“We’ve got you,” Bucky added, pressing a kiss just above your collar. "You hear me?”

Another tear rolled down your hot cheek. It was exactly what you needed to hear and it wasn’t a lie. Good alphas. My alphas. The knowledge that they would be yours without the bond yet finally made you push the door open. 

I’m allowed to be vulnerable. I’m still strong. I’m safe.

"Good girl. We know that wasn't easy. This is your space and it means everything that you're letting us in," Hal praised.

"Your rules, okay? We'll follow them," Bucky added.

"Red," you said quickly. "If I need to stop," you added so they understood what you meant. 

You weren't sure how many omegas had safe words or if you could even remember once you slipped past the point of no return.

"Green for good and yellow for warning?" Hal asked, nodding when you did.

"Good girl," Bucky said, shutting the door once the three of you were inside. "Thank you for telling us." 

The view of your nest feet away called to you, a fresh wave of slick coming on at the realization that they were going to ruin you there. The only men you would ever allow into your bedroom and the most sacred parts of you were going to get you through this. The tingles of arousal continued to pool from your gut as you stumbled forward, whining when a pair of arms kept you from falling. 

“Easy, kitten,” Hal said affectionately. “Let’s get you out of these clothes first. Then we’ll give your body what it needs, okay?”

Bucky stood before you as you nodded and wordlessly lifted your arms when he grasped the hem of your top. "We'll get you through this," he whispered, lifting the fabric away and dropping it to the floor. 

Hal kept an arm around your waist as he unhooked your bra, Bucky's hands coming up to remove that as well. Your breasts spilling free relieved some of the tension you carried, but it wasn't what you needed. The ache between your thighs increased when you caught the darkening gaze from the large alpha in front of you.

"Beautiful, omega. Fuck, can I touch you?"

"Yeah. Touch me," you whined, wondering if you looked desirable when you pushed your chest towards his palms. The weight of your breasts in Bucky’s hands occupied you while Hal pulled down your skirt and underwear. He avoided touching your wet, pulsing cunt. Why? "Kiss me."

Bucky brushed his lips against yours, his thumbs brushing along your hardened nipples. Purring from the featherlight touch, heat continued to spread through your body as you moved insistently against him. The kiss ended far too soon, but you had no time to complain when Hal turned your head toward him. 

If Bucky's kiss was tender and gentle, Hal's was consuming. His tongue swept inside your eager mouth, taking his time to explore. A slow smolder. A fast burn. They gave you both. Like the last, it ended before you wanted it to. 

"She won't break, Buck," he assured his friend. 

"What?" you mumbled.

The vibration of a growl had you opening your mouth, registering that Bucky kissed you again. The tenderness simmered still beneath the fervor, their hands strong and sturdy against your trembling body. It no longer felt like your heat dictated your wants. It was them. These men were going to devour you. 

Let them swallow me whole.

"You with us?" Hal asked when Bucky's lips trailed along your jaw. 

"Yeah. Green," you gritted, your abdomen tightening in pain. "Fuck."

"Okay, let's get you to bed," Bucky slipped an arm around your waist to help Hal guide you over. The action distracted you from the momentary pain, comfort flooding you as they placed you on the mattress. "There you go."

"Clothes. Off." you gasped, gazing between them as you stretched out on your back. 

You struggled to sit up as they began to undress, unsure of which one of them to concentrate on. Bucky's broad chest rose and fell with each breath, the metal arm fitting for his hard body. Hal's sun-kissed abs tempted you to touch them. The leaner of the two, he looked no less intimidating. Whimpering when they both began to push off their jeans, you couldn't stop the slick that began to stain your sheets.

"Still need us?" Bucky questioned, his thick cock springing free. "Need us to take care of you?"

"Use your words, omega," Hal smirked, his cock hard and ready, too.

Care for me. Keep me. Don't let me go, please.

"Fuck me," you begged, your fingers twisting in the sheets. The sheer size of them made you wonder if they'd split you in two, but you welcomed the challenge. Your body would accept theirs and make a home for them. "Now."

"On your knees," Bucky ordered.

"Bossy," you muttered as you turned over and moved to the middle of the mattress.

"You like it," Hal noted, settling in front of you on his knees. Instead of shoving his dick in your watering mouth like you half expected, he cupped your cheeks instead. "Don't you?"

Biting your lip, you nodded slightly. "Don't tell him that."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear you," Bucky said, the bed dipping behind you as Hal chuckled. "Fuck, look at you. So pretty. So wet."

"Smells so good. Can't wait to taste you."

You never thought praise for your pussy would make you preen, but your alphas continued to surprise you. The smaller alpha kissed your forehead as hands moved up the back of your thighs, getting closer to your most intimate parts. You could smell their arousal, which fueled your own. The reminders that they were there for you was enough to make you faint.

"Fuck me," you whispered because that was easier to say. It was all your brain could process as your basic nature took over. "Alphas, I need you."

"Bucky needs to stretch you out a bit. We don't wanna hurt you."

"You won't." 

You gasped when the first finger breached you. It was embarrassing how wet you were, but you didn't dwell on it as the thick digit pumped slowly in and out of you. 

"You're tight, doll. I know you'll open up for us, but he's right. We don't wanna hurt you."

The small hiss you let out had more bark than bite. You'd be sore and exhausted by the time your heat finished. The good alphas that they were, they knew the prep was necessary. You'd be covered in their scents soon enough. 

"Bucky, hurry up," you whined as another long, thick finger pushed inside, spreading and stretching you with such care. 

"And you call me bossy," you heard the smirk in his voice. "Need me inside you so badly you can't wait a few more seconds? Need Hal that badly, too?"

I'll smack him with his own metal hand when this is over. I swear. No, no, no. Good alpha. He's a good alpha. 

"Yes! Please! Why won't you fuck me?!"

Going into heat was an experience you never expected to get used to, no matter how many times you went through it. The need to be taken, bred and claimed wasn’t something you asked for. But being surrounded by the scents of the two powerful alphas boxing you in, you wondered why you resisted your nature so much. Maybe because you had never met anyone like Bucky Barnes and Hal Carter. 

But I’m not ready to be claimed. Not yet. What if it does matter to them? What if they want a better omega? Someone who isn’t as stubborn as I am?

A whine bubbled from your chest at the thought of them rejecting you after letting them in, a call to them to protect you. The air that crackled between you and the men shifted to something deeper, more intimate. The rumbles from their chest soothed you, willing your body to relax as your mind shut down more.

"Look at me," Hal urged, dipping his head so he was in your line of sight. You wished you could always see that tenderness in his eyes. "Breathe, baby, please."

Bucky kissed the base of your spine as you took slow, deep breaths. "Good girl. We're still here, doll. Not going anywhere."

"Sorry," you mumbled as Hal shook his head.

"Don't you dare say you're sorry. This is a lot and it's an honor that you're letting us help you."

"You're helping us, too," Bucky said, making you whimper as he pulled his fingers out. "Believe it or not, you are. Our kitten."

"Our beautiful kitten," Hal smiled.

Being called "kitten" just then almost felt like "omega", but it was different. Special. And you weren't sure if it was their words, scents or touch that kept your breathing nice and steady. Maybe it was all of it. 

Thank you. 

"Look at him," Hal urged, helping you turn your head to look over your shoulder. 

You held your breath as you watched Bucky lick your slick from his fingers, a deep growl reverberating in his chest. The sight of his blown pupils added to your crazed need as he brought his hand to his cock. Your thighs twitched as he pressed the tip to your aching hole. He was going to wreck you just for Hal to do the same. 

"Green, alphas. Please."

You were ready. 

"Fuck," Bucky groaned when he began to push in. 

"Breathe," Hal whispered before the air rushed back into your lungs. "Good girl."

By some miracle you didn't collapse as you took Bucky's cock in inch by inch, resisting the urge to push your hips back. As desperate as you were to be fucked deep and hard by each of them, this type of care was what you needed in your core. Hal's hand moved along the back of your neck and shoulders, easing away the remaining tension. As you predicted, your body stretched and welcomed your alpha home. It would for both of them. 

Home. I'm home. 

"Fuck, you're still tight," Bucky hissed, keeping his hips still as you adjusted to his size. "Pussy's gripping me like a vice."

You purred, clenching around him with purpose as he finally moved. You were already close. It should've mortified you to be on the edge of an orgasm from the first slide of the thick length inside you, but you didn't care. 

"Bucky. Hal," your thighs shook as you whined. 

"You need to come? It's okay, kitten. Do it," Hal encouraged you, brushing a thumb along your cheek as his other hand fisted his cock.

“Come,” Bucky grunted. 

Your eyes widened as your release shot through you, your own cry echoing in the room as your muscles spasmed. Your mind began to fracture as Bucky thrust through it, pleasure blinding you as you found Hal’s mouth. His tongue against yours added to the ecstasy that threatened to tear you apart. You allowed them to destroy you.

The orgasm took some of your edge off, but it wasn’t enough. It wouldn’t be enough until they gave you what biology demanded: to be knotted and bred. They wouldn’t actually breed you tonight, but your body wouldn’t know the difference. Not while you were stuffed full.

Need their knots. Need them.

“There you go, kitten. That’s better, isn’t it? Keep sucking my cock back in.”

Your walls ached as Bucky pistoned in and out of you, tears forming from the burning pleasure that began to quickly build again. The evidence of your climax seeped around his cock as you struggled to hold on, the unyielding and steady pace overwhelming your senses. Your head dropped, trying to lick at Hal, wanting to take care of both alphas. 

“Kitten, you don’t have to- Oh, fuck,” Hal moaned as your hands gripped his thighs for purchase, swallowing him down as much as you could. “We don’t deserve you.”

You whined in protest, savoring how he twitched against your tongue. It was the other way around. How were you worthy of them? Their strength and patience, the need to take care of you yet agreeing to your terms. You wished you could find a way to properly thank them. For now, your body would do.

“We don’t,” Bucky’s breath slid over your back as he stretched over you again, forcing you to take more of Hal in your throat. Both of them inside you had your senses in overdrive, taking what they gave you. “Beautiful, fierce, ours.”

“And yours. We’re yours,” Hal’s wrecked voice had your abdomen tightening as tears fell from your eyes, mewling as his hand moved underneath your collar. Damn hormones. “It’s okay. We’ve got you.”

You were thankful you couldn’t speak because the urge to rip your collar off and beg for their marks grew with each thrust. Bucky gripped your hips to hold you in place as you sucked harder and clenched tighter, anything to push the thought of being claimed away. Your heart ached from the struggle because it would feel so right to have them sink their teeth in.

Wouldn’t it?

“You’re brave, kitten. Strong. You’re you. The kind of partner we need,” Bucky reminded you, as if he sensed the internal conflict. 

Partner. Not omega, partner. An equal. 

“The partner we crave.”

Even as they fucked you, they could see right through you. These alphas who accepted you on your terms and gave you hope for a brighter tomorrow. It was everything you wanted to deny, but everything you needed to believe and accept. 

They’re my home.

“Stop,” Hal gasped, gently pulling himself out of your mouth. His cock bobbed in front of your face as he wiped the drool from your chin, trying in vain to take him back in. “We both know you don’t want me finishing in your mouth. Not yet.”

You whined because it was true. As tempting as it was for him to spill down your throat, you needed him in your soaked cunt. Wanted Bucky to pin your arms over your head as Hal put you on your back. God, he’d keep your legs spread open as he speared you over and over.

“Knot me, breed me!” you cried. 

“We will. We will,” Bucky promised, driving faster into you. 

“You’ll feel us for days. Weeks,” Hal swore and, fuck, you believed him.

“I’m close,” Bucky warned, though he didn’t need to. The swell of his forming knot pushing against your hole gave you the signal loud and clear. “Gonna take my knot like a good girl. Get your slick all over me while I fill you up and make you mine. And when I’m done, Hal’s gonna do the same. ‘Til you’re begging for us to stop.”

“No, don’t stop, don’t stop!” You arched your back as Hal’s hand glided over your bouncing breasts and aching nipples, desperate to be consumed by both of them. “Alpha, please. don’t stop. Oh, God!”

You exploded, moving helplessly between them as your walls twitched. Flames shot down your spine as you once again allowed the sensations to take over again. You barely registered that they spoke to you, coaxing you through another powerful orgasm. A noise spilled from your mouth, something between a scream and plea, tired of being empty. 

“Fuck, kitten, that’s it. That’s fucking it. Give it to us. Give us everything,” Bucky growled, thrusting once more.

A kaleidoscope of colors danced in front of your eyes as he seated himself fully inside you, having to hold onto Hal as he filled you like he promised. Hot and thick, your body greedily accepted every drop of him. Teeth sank into your shoulder, drawing another cry from you. It wasn’t a claiming mark, but it felt good.

Everything felt good.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl,” Hal praised, giving Bucky a small smirk and a smack to his shoulder. “Stop growling against her skin and get her on her side so she’s comfortable.”

Bucky grumbled something you couldn’t catch as he released his teeth, kissing tenderly over the bite. He didn’t move you right away, both of you trying to catch your breath. Your heart pounded fast, your walls gripping his knot like it would fade away too quickly if you stopped. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” the larger alpha whispered as he nudge the collar with his nose. “This is heaven. You’re heaven. Hal, fuck, you’re gonna lose your mind.”

“I already have,” Hal said, kissing your forehead. “I already have.”

Your heart raced, reaching up to touch your collar. They hadn’t tried to remove it. They listened to you. “Alphas?” you mumbled, wincing when you attempted to inch forward.

“Easy, easy,” Bucky whispered as he wrapped his arm around your waist, carefully shifting so you both laid on the bed. He huffed against your skin as he spooned you, smiling as Hal grabbed a water from the bedside. 

“Here.” He brought the bottle to your lips.

You took a few sips, whining when you saw how hard he still was. 

“Don’t worry, kitten,” his voice deepened as he set the bottle down and stretched out in front of you. “Once his knot goes down, you’ll have mine.”

“Thank you,” your eyes squeezed shut, hiccuping as your chest seized up. “Stay.”

Don’t cry again. Don’t fucking cry.

“Oh, kitten,” Bucky sighed, rubbing your hip when you hid your face in Hal’s chest. “You don’t need to thank us. We’re staying right here.” “We’re yours, remember? Your alphas,” Hal gave you an assuring smile. “Now be good and rest for a few minutes.”

“Bossy,” you muttered.

“And you love it.”

Their words in your mind lulled you back into a sense of comfort, floating as you stayed boxed between them. A sleepy smile formed, half aware that this was just the beginning and that your alphas weren’t going anywhere. You could be mortified by your needy behavior later. For now, you let yourself be an omega. Because your secondary gender isn't a weakness with them around. 

I’m safe. I’m cared for. 

I’m home.

*****

We'll see our neighbors again soon. Thanks for reading!

[lavendercitizen]

Jooooo I squealed when I saw soft!dark!bucky🥰 You did him so well, I would unfortunately go along with everything he says. Your writing is brilliant as always <3

You're not much used to dating apps--maybe you're old fashioned, but you'd always preferred meeting in person versus texting over a screen, but your therapist convinces you to give it a try. "Just swipe on a few people and chat. No committment, no problem, right?" Bucky is easy to talk to--he doesn't demand to meet up with you, assail you with unsolicited pictures of his genetalia. No, he seems happy just to chat and get to know you, which is perfect.

Exactly what you need.

😈

Private Eyes

Pairing: Soft!Dark!Bucky x reader

Word Count: 1,500 (Yes, exactly that because I'm insane)

Summary: You're finally going on a date with the hot guy you've been talking to for weeks. You're nervous but excited. He seems genuinely sweet and even a little shy. What could possibly go wrong?

Author's Note: I finally got this done! I'm sorry for how long it too but it's my first ever attempt at soft!dark! Not sure how dark it really went but I will keep working on these type of fics! This is for the lovely @boxofbonesfic Monkey's Paw Challenge and her amazing milestone celebration! Congratulations lovely, you rock! Thank you for hosting and for having me! Hugs and love!💕 Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by my sweet @firefly-graphics thank you lovely🥰 And I was listening to Hall and Oates 'Private Eyes' when I thought of this. I want to thank my love @sgt-seabass for helping me develop this and really get it where it needed to be, as always, I love and thank you for your brain! And thank you to my sweet Ali @maladaptivexxdaydreaming for supporting me the whole way! Love you both!💕

Warnings: fluffy sweetness to start, some tension, thoughts of kidnapping and stalkerish behavior, implied choking (if I missed anything please let me know :) 18+ ONLY PLEASE!!!

Gif NOT MINE: Credit goes to @unearthlydust thanks a bunch sweets🥰

“Ok, so I have the name of the restaurant and you said your phone is fully charged right?”

Your best friend, Rachel, eyes you from the bed, watching as you check your reflection in the mirror and smooth your hands over your hips.

“Yes and yes,” you answer.

“What if he asks you back to his place?” she inquires, raising a brow.

You turn her way, narrowing your eyes. “I haven’t decided yet. I mean we’ve been talking for weeks and we’ve done face time and talked on the phone, all that. I feel like we know each other pretty well. And remember…”

Before you can finish the sentence she chimes in with, “no dick pics!”

“Exactly,” you smile.

“Well, he better be as hot as he looks in the pictures you showed me,” Rachel huffs even as she dramatically fans herself.

“Yea well let’s hope not otherwise saying no to him is going to be hard,” you giggle.

“Are you wearing something sexy under there?” she asks, the corner of her mouth twitching with a grin.

“Maybe…now, I need to leave or I’ll be late,” you say, grabbing your bag.

“DON’T FORGET TO TEXT!” she yells. “I’ll lock up when I leave.”

“Thanks Rach!”

You stand outside the restaurant, happy you’re a few minutes early and have a chance to try and calm the butterflies in your stomach. You’re just reaching to get your phone from your bag when a smooth and familiar voice says, “hey doll.”

When you look up it’s into the same blue eyes you’ve been staring at on video chat and in pictures.

“Hi Bucky,” you say, hoping you don’t sound too breathless. He looks better in person, which you didn’t think was possible.

“You look gorgeous,” he whispers, clearly trying but failing to keep his eyes on yours, his own making a slow perusal from your head to your toes.

He clears his throat, running a nervous hand through his hair. It only makes it look better.

“I have to admit,” he says quietly, now rubbing the back of his head, “I was worried you might not show.”

His feet shift and when his hand drops to his jeans you notice he tries to discreetly wipe his palm along the material.

His nervousness is endearing and you place a reassuring hand on his arm.

“I’ve been looking forward to this,” you explain, “but I get it. I’m nervous too.”

He gives you a grateful smile and reaches for the door, holding it open for you to walk through, his eyes closing as he inhales deeply when you brush past him.

Once you’re seated and you have your drinks the conversation flows easily, any initial anxiety melting away the more time you spend in his company. He’s sweet and a little shy which only makes you like him more.

He keeps the focus on you, asking the right questions but never pushing too far and when you finally switch gears and ask about him, he’s open and honest.

You notice the leather glove covering his left hand and you gently lay your fingers over his.

“You don’t need to wear this for me,” you tell him, smiling sweetly.

He closes his hand around yours and gives it a squeeze.

“Thanks doll face. I appreciate that. I’m just so used to having it on when I’m out in public.”

You nod in understanding.

“Do you want to get dessert?” he asks. “Or…”

“Or?” you repeat, with a smirk.

“You already know how I enjoy cooking and baking,” he starts, continuing after you smile in acknowledgement. “Well, I don’t want to come off as presumptuous but I did bake something especially for you in case you agreed to come hang with me after dinner.”

His lopsided smile and the light tinge of pink dusting his cheeks is all you need to agree to it.

“That sounds really nice. I want to know what you made!” you laugh.

“Nah…surprises are more fun doll.”

He gives you a wink and it sets the butterflies that have finally settled in your stomach all aflutter again.

After paying for the check, he pulls out your chair and presses his hand to your lower back, leading you out of the restaurant and into the chill night air. You subconsciously rub your hands over your arms.

Before you can protest he starts to shrug off his light jacket. He stands in front of you, reaching up to brush his fingers across your shoulder and adjust the fallen strap of your dress before he lays the jacket over you.

You can’t stop the way your body trembles at his touch and when he lingers in your space, his eyes dropping to your lips you can barely get out your breathy “thank you.”

A loud group of people bustle by and effectively snap you both out of the moment, but not before he stares at you for another beat, his gaze heated as his tongue traces his lips.

Your eyes follow the motion and you swallow hard.

“Ready?” he asks as he lets out a breath.

Not trusting yourself to speak you simply nod and smile.

“We can grab a cab to my place. It’s not even a ten-minute ride.”

Helping you out of the cab, he pays the driver and takes your hand.

“I’m on the third floor,” he says as he presses the button for the elevator.

The ride up to his floor is quiet, the side of his body pressed to yours as the tension settling between you increases.

“Something to drink?” he asks, after he drops his keys by the door.

“More wine would be great,” you say as you take in his apartment.

“I have prosecco,” he smiles. “That’s what you like best right?”

You pause and study him. “Did I tell you that?” you ask, trying to recall when you would have mentioned it.

He shrugs with indifference. “I thought I remember you telling me after you had gone out with friends and you text me. You might have been a little tipsy.”

His smile is bright and playful.

The tension that unconsciously tightened your shoulders eases and you giggle. “That sounds about right!”

“Ready to try my special dessert?”

He holds up a plate of chocolate brownies, topped with a fudgy like frosting and sprinkles.

“Wow, those look so good! I love brownies!”

“I know,” he says, clearly proud of himself. “We talk enough about food and we definitely went over favorite desserts.”

In two short strides he’s pressing into your space, holding a brownie up to your lips.

“Wanna give it a try doll face?”

You part your lips and lean forward, biting into the gooey chocolate. Your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks and you let out a low moan.

“Wow Bucky,” you breathe. “So good.”

His thumb reaches up to wipe a crumb from the corner of your mouth and he spreads his fingers across your cheek, pulling you closer.

“I’m glad you’re happy with them,” he murmurs. “I can make them anytime you want.”

Your fingers close around his wrist and you lean into his touch.

“Can I have more?” you ask.

He feeds you another bite, watching your mouth as you savor the sweet treat. His eyes drop to your lips again and you feel yourself leaning forward but your phone dings with a message.

“Shit,” you mutter. “I should check that. Rachel might be worried.”

“It can wait,” he murmurs, brushing his lips along yours.

Your breath hitches and your eyes close, his hands settling at your waist to pull you closer. The kiss is soft at first but when the whimper slips past your lips he parts them with his tongue, the feel of him like a drug.

He walks you backward, his hands wandering over all your exposed skin. It isn’t until your back softly bumps the wall that you pull away, your head dizzy.

You realize you’re in his bedroom…but something is off. You look around, taking it the placement of the furniture and even the furniture itself, the bedspread, the color of the walls, and then your eyes land on something on the bed.

Your body stiffens and your eyes go wide.

“My wolf, my…my,” you gasp. “How did…?”

You try to back away but there’s no where for you to go. He grabs your arms and holds you against him.

“What’s that doll?” he whispers against your ear.

You let out a shuddering breath. “I don’t understand.”  

“You will…in time,” he says, his tone almost excited. “All the comforts of home.”

“Please,” you cry even as your breath hitches at the feel of his metal hand ghosting across your skin.

Your body betrays you and he knows it, the feel of him hard and straining making you clench around nothingness.

“As long as you behave and do as you’re told you’ll be happy and I’ll keep you safe,” he promises as his cold fingers tighten around your neck.

@book-dragon-13 @christywantspizza @dreamlessinparis @goldylions @hiddles-and-skittles @hiddles-rose @jhangelface0523 @loricamebackyetagain @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin @rebel-stardust @loki-laufeyson-1054 @lookiamtrying @weekendgothgirl @breakablebarnes @seitmai @justile @whippoorwillbarnes @peaches1958

[lavendercitizen]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Nika you are brilliance, you are everything. The worlds you create, the storylines, the words you finely use, all speak for your unimaginable creativity and virtuosity. Incredible, really, I always wonder if you pursue writing professionally or something.

For this one I wish I could leave you a long explicit comment about your illustrative language, especially the way you used the elements of nature, the seasons, the winter wind against Bucky's warmth, and relied on senses, smell and such as a nymph would, how she perceives humans, and how genuinely you conveyed it, and worst but best of all — because I am a glutton for angst — Bucky's recovery after losing his arm (I rarely see any fics that actually center around this), that argument with Steve killed me :')) and Bucky not wanting to make her look like a fool at the dance???, but, coming around to the beginning of this endless sentence, it's so much, this is so entirely perfect, that I genuinely would write you a comment the length of your fic while dissecting everything, and as much as I want to I'll have to keep it compact :')

Some of my favorite lines though

Your boy was only human, after all.

I love you, you thought, and maybe he did the same.

“Bucky,” you whispered against his lips, and a shudder went through him. “Bucky.”

(NIKA??? WHAT IS THIS?? LETS TALK ABOUT IT?? I AM IN ACTUAL FUCKING SHAMBLES RIGHT NOW, THIS WHOLE THING WAS SO BITTERSWEET AND THEN YOU ADD THAT LITERAL STORYBOOK, FAIRYTALE, DISNEY MOMENT IN THERE??) This is so so so perfect how do you always manage to leave me screaming crying shaking throwing up, it's impeccable, riveting, magical— I am going to kiss you on the forehead!! This is a threat<3

set me free

summary: Once upon a time, a soldier fell from a train. Thankfully, this time, he is found by gentle hands, and a beautiful voice keeps him safe from the cold.

pairing: bucky barnes x nymph!reader

word count: 6.4k

warnings: bucky dealing with the loss of his arm; a pinch of angst for flavour; reader is perceived as female by men in the forties, but what does that really tell us?

a/n: hi. i really like this one. it combines two of my favourite things, fairy tales and 40s!bucky 😌 title is from the song her voice from the little mermaid musical <3

masterlist | read on ao3

“There was a girl.”

It’s the first thing he says when he wakes up, head wrapped in bandages and his arm … shit, his arm.

He doesn’t react when they break it to him, as gently as you can when you’re tearing someone’s life apart. What could he say?

Steve’s face speaks loud enough for the both of them.

He waits until everyone else has left, until he can drop the act and look at Steve, desperately trying to make him understand that there’s a voice singing inside of him that’s not his, that he feels like he lost two very precious things in a single day. “There was a girl.”

And Steve’s eyes go soft when he tells him, “I know.”

***

There was a story up north, where the waters turned grey with city slick and got forced through ever tightening brick holes, of the nymph that wanted to appeal to reason and got trapped in a barrel where he shrank, shrank until there was nothing left of him but water and vengeance, and who no one ever heard from again after in his last moments, he drowned dozens of them.

Humans.

You hadn’t seen one up close in years, not since they built their stinking railroad and stopped taking the time to walk through the lands adjoining your river. Your life got quiet when theirs got fast. You weren’t used to them anymore, and the constant buzzing in the camp gave you a headache.

Coming here was the most treacherous thing you’d ever done.

You just wanted to make sure he was alright after you’d pulled him from your waters and dragged him to where his friends would find him, down the river where the remnants of the train still burned. You watched the flames from a distance, the fire throwing eerie shadows across the snow for hours, leaving nothing but vapour.

He’d finally stopped bleeding, then.

You weren’t supposed to leave your river for any long period of time, but you couldn’t resist. The thought of the strange soldier with the beautiful face and hair the colour of muddy riverbanks occupied your every waking thought. As if he were calling to you.

You’re treading dangerous waters, your mother would have warned you, and you probably should’ve listened. But you’d never felt this way before.

So you left your voice behind to keep your legs for longer and went in search of your soldier.

The camp was dirty, haphazard, stank of human. None of them even seemed to notice. You almost wished for one of their primitive noses that couldn’t pick a trout from a pickerel.

You found the blond man first. Eyes like the darkest part of a waterfall and built like the rocks that kept the earth standing. His cries had sounded garbled from where you’d hid just below the surface, but now his voice was calmer, like rain.

“Are you lost?” he asked. It sounded peculiar to you, then, English, but you got used to it quickly.

You shook your head, already starting to move past him when he stepped into your path.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he said with a frown.

Yes, you were.

“How did you even find us?”

It wasn’t hard. Nature was screaming their presence. If anyone wasn’t supposed to be here, it was them. But that wasn’t why you’d come.

“What’s your name?”

You were starting to wonder if humans ever got anything done or if they were spending all of their precious few days just standing around asking meaningless questions. Thankfully, one of the others started shouting at that moment, not even bothering to come closer. You cringed at the loud noise.

“Steve! It’s happening again!”

The blond man cursed under his breath, giving you another appraising look. “Stay here,” he ordered sternly, and then he took off.

You followed more slowly, moving past soldiers and nurses who were all in such a hurry to disguise how utterly useless they felt. None of them stopped you, even though you attracted some curious glances; you looked like them, now, but you didn’t move like them.

The ice cracked underneath your bare feet, but your steps were silent. The winter air did not chill you, even though your breath came up in small clouds of mist, just like it did for the rest of them, and you watched it evaporate into the grey sky.

A strange thing, they must have thought you. Similar enough, but not the same, somehow.

You found him easily, even though you couldn’t see him; it was like he pulled you in with invisible strings. His tug had already started to feel deceivingly familiar.

Another man stood in front of the entrance, holding a flask in his hand. He saw you approach, and he tipped his hat back to stare at you openly. He murmured something in a tongue clearly different from the first, and then he tapped his head and torso in several places, an instinctive, protective gesture.

You smiled at him.

“C’était vous?” he asked, and you nodded.

He looked over his shoulder quickly, and then he held the flaps of the tent open to let you in.

The air inside was heavy with the damp smell of sweat and blood. The blond man’s back almost kept him from your view, but you knew immediately that the convulsing body on the cot belonged to your soldier. They were holding him down, trying to keep him still as he was struggling.

He hadn’t woken yet.

You took another step closer, and then you saw him again. There he lay, still partially covered by your cloak, and the sight of it made you shiver. The obscenity of it all.

It’d seemed such a natural thing to do at the time, to shield him from certain death, but now, surrounded by all these other … humans? You could barely keep yourself from gagging.

You’d sung it into existence to keep him warm, and then you’d kept singing until the bleeding finally slowed.

You were almost done when you heard the others approach, calling out for him, and your head whipped around in shock. So much had you been preoccupied with your work, you hadn’t even noticed them until it was almost too late.

Careful, your mother’s voice warned softly in your head. A moment of weakness is how they catch you, pearl.

Your song hadn’t been completed, and when you melted back into your waters in haste, keen to get out of their view, you could feel something tear inside you as it got left behind.

It made you feel raw.

You were safe beneath your waters, but you’d left part of yourself with the handsome stranger with the mud-coloured hair, and as they picked him up and carried him back through the woods, the missing thing settled like a pebble in his pocket.

And now …

He was lying right in front of you, so close you might have just reached out and touched his damp forehead, but you didn’t quite dare, not with everyone else starting to notice your presence.

“You can't be in here!”

Oh, but you had to be.

You didn’t know what they must have seen in your eyes, but something changed on the blond man’s face, and he did not move when you did. Gently, you leaned over the man on the cot, noticing every shiver and flinch and moan, brushing a strand of hair from his brow. You pulled at the corner of your cloak and wrapped it around his shoulder again, careful not to touch the spattered bandages.

Your soldier sighed, and then his sleep grew dreamless.

The man called Steve let you stay.

***

It took several days before he woke up, and they’d moved him a few dozen metres uphill, where the trees formed more of a clearing and the air was crisp. You’d kept to the fringes of the camp, making yourself useful enough so they wouldn’t dismiss you, carrying hot water and sweeping snow off tarpaulin.

The sun was setting when you felt the pull again, but different this time, more tentative. You dropped your empty bucket and gathered your skirt, hurrying to see what had happened, what had changed.

“There was a girl.”

You came to a halt right outside the entrance to the med tent, hands pressed to your chest because suddenly, you felt ill, as if your heart was trying to burst out of your chest. You couldn’t make sense of the sudden wetness on your cheeks. Had it started to rain without your notice?

“There was a girl.”

You’re not a girl, but it was fine. Humans are so limited, your mother always used to say.

And he remembered your song.

***

The first time your soldier met you, met you properly, they’d wrapped him in blankets and carried him outside to sit in the sun. Like a wildcat, you thought, but his eyes were glazed over, not really taking in his surroundings.

It was a pity, you thought as you watched him, because the woods were beautiful that time of year, when the sun made the white mountain tops glitter like diamonds.

You only dared to move closer once the others gave up on trying to get him to talk. One slow step closer, than another. Finally, you sat down in the grass next to him, your feet crossing easily underneath you because you’d done it several times before at that point. The air was damp with morning dew.

Several minutes passed before he seemed to acknowledge your presence.

“Come to stare?” he croaked quietly. His voice was rough in places it wasn’t supposed to be.

You tilted your head to look at him, shielding your eyes against the sun. He looked magnificent in the light, even though the frown never left his face. You didn’t understand his question.

You didn’t know, then, that humans couldn’t just regrow their limbs like fish could their fins.

But you had no way of asking his meaning, so you just kept sitting next to him in silence, watching life move on in the camp downhill. He didn’t tell you to leave.

His name, you learned, was Bucky, and you wished you could try out the sound on your tongue to see how it tasted. He had eyes the colour of the ocean, but you didn’t know that until later. You’d never seen it before.

He stayed propped up in the med tent most of the time. For observation, Steve explained, worry in his voice, but he didn’t let you disturb Bucky in there. After all, you were just a stranger who didn’t talk or wear shoes, and whose seam was always inexplicably wet, and while you heard the whispers and knew he was smart enough to pick out the kernels of truth, he never told you to leave.

“I saw you that day,” he told you one afternoon, his waterfall eyes keen and focused. “You saved his life.”

A moment of weakness, you thought. You couldn’t help but wish for a lifetime of it.

You snuck in at night, when the nurse had gone to bed, tracing your cool fingertips against Bucky’s burning skin until he sighed in his sleep. In the pale moonlight, he seemed not much older than a boy. Sometimes, he woke up, but he was so delirious he must have mistaken you for an apparition by his bedside.

You silently tucked your cloak closer around him and hoped it was enough.

During the day, you kept close, staying busy by helping the others with the upkeep of the camp or looking for a quiet place to rest for a while. It took a lot out of you, trying to soothe Bucky’s pain, but it was worth it to you.

To him, you were an enigma.

You came out of nowhere into his life, and even though everything he had planned for the rest of it seemed to go up in flames around him and disappear forever, you were determined to stay by his side.

It took a lot of persuasion. You could hear Steve shout at the commanding officers for days, and the wind told you that Bucky heard, too. It spelled out his confusion, and his gratitude. Some part of him sensed your connection to him, even though he couldn’t understand it like you did.

Your boy was only human, after all.

In the beginning, in those early days before you even learned his name, you’d wondered if maybe the simple act of pulling Bucky out of your river had been what had somehow entranced you. If, as time went on, this fondness for him would disappear like the shimmer of light on the surface when the sun was rising; beautiful, but temporary.

It kept you seeking him out whenever you could, silently sitting down next to his chair with a bunch of fabrics to darn as the days kept getting warmer. It smelled of spring. Some colour had returned to his cheeks.

“Steve tells me you’re my guardian angel.” He said it like a reproach.

You merely shrugged and kept sewing. Your fingers were clumsy, not used to the tool, but you’d never been one to give up. When you stole a wayward glance at Bucky, he was watching you. He stirred underneath your gaze, and it made you want to jump up and run, run until you reached your river and could sink back beneath the familiar surface, to stop this racing in your chest, your head.

You tucked your legs underneath you.

It was strange, having legs again. You hadn’t worn them since … When was it, again, that they’d invented those terrible steaming machines that sent angry flares of smoke into the air and made it stink of fire and destruction for miles and miles?

You liked the feeling, though. They stood solid.

You were particularly fond of your toes, curiously burying them in the half-frozen ground until they changed colour, and then rubbing them between your stubby humanlike fingers so that the dirt fell off and they were warm once more.

Still, your soldier barely spoke to you.

You could feel his eyes set on you, though, whenever you walked by or sat at his feet. The cloak around his shoulders was drawing him to you, even if he didn’t know it. There was nothing else to it but ancient spells and unintentional offers.

You tried not to worry about it too much. The spell would fall off him as soon as he was healed enough, anyway, you knew as much.

But you couldn’t help yourself.

You heard his call to you at night, desperate, lonely, searching for some great unknown that he was missing. You felt the tug.

The ache became almost too much for you to bear.

The breeze whispered his name for you, a gentle kiss on his temple, as you lay rolled up in the cot they’d given you, waiting for dawn to bring an end to his nightmares and your untetheredness.

In the daylight, things were difficult in a different way. Oh, you wanted to talk to him, tell him all the stories you’d picked up over the decades. They all seemed so unreal when you were sitting next to him, as if they’d happened to someone else entirely.

The wind lashed out at you in moments like this, clashing fallen leaves into your face and pulling at your hair like a petulant child. Nature wasn’t angry with you, exactly, but she was mourning. She knew long before you did, and did everything in her power to soften the blow.

“How come you’re never cold?” Bucky asked when you rubbed your naked feet across the stone.

You laughed, silently, looking at him with raised eyebrows.

“Right. Yes or no only, correct?”

You smiled and nodded. A light blush spread on his cheeks.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna work out.” Your heart dropped, but he looked at you assessingly, his head slightly tilted to the side. “You don’t happen to know how to write, do you?”

You shook your head slowly. You were able to read human alphabets as well as understand the words, but it’d never seemed useful to you to put something in writing yourself. Whoever would you have addressed it to?

“I can teach you. Still got my working arm left, don’t I?”

He didn’t tell you that he needed this, that he needed to feel like he was still useful in some way, not just a nervous, hollow wreck of a man; he didn’t need to. You could read it in his eyes, and the resignation that was starting to fester at the bottom of his ocean eyes terrified you so much, you barely felt the needle slip before it pricked your finger. You flinched.

One, two, three drops of blood fell onto the fabric, staining the gleaming white. You stared at them, but the swirling thoughts in your head came to stop when he moved next to you and touched your hand.

“Are you alright?” Bucky asked, his fingers curling around your wrist. They were so warm. “You gotta be more careful, angel.”

It was the second time he called you an angel, and though you knew this couldn’t be further from the truth, you felt a strange heat rush through you, to your cheeks and every inch of skin he touched. The blankets around his shoulders had slipped down, and you could make out the silvery-blue edge of your cloak underneath. You bit your lip, and dropped your head.

Bucky let go of you, and the wind couldn’t quite soothe the loss of his warmth.

“I mean it,” he said after a while. “I’d like to teach you, if you want.”

So you went through your chores quickly the next day, and then headed for his tent with a spring in your step. You only stopped in front of the entrance when you heard voices inside.

“The notion came with the mail today,” Steve said. “They’ve made you a captain, Buck. To honour everything you’ve done in the line of duty.”

“Well, look at us, Stevie.” Bucky laughed hollowly. “We’ve both got empty titles to match now.”

You could hear Steve sigh. “Anger doesn’t suit you, pal.”

“It was always good enough for you.”

“I was a kid.”

“And I lost my arm!”

You couldn’t be sure if the cup fell by accident or if it was thrown by design, but it shattered with a spectacular crash, and then there was silence.

It was Steve who left, hands still buried in his hair. He took a moment to notice you, rubbing a palm across his face quickly. “Sorry about that,” he said. “You’re here for your lesson, right?”

You nodded.

“Right.” He coughed uncomfortably. “Well, he’s probably happier to see you than me, so …” He nodded, as if he was hearing an answer you didn’t give, and then he turned, stopping himself again to reach into his coat pocket. “You might need this,” he said, pressing something into your hand before he left.

It was a little red notebook, not much larger than your hand. You stood there, unsure whether you should enter or leave Bucky alone with the churning wave of his grief. In the end, he made the decision for you.

“Are you gonna come in?”

He didn’t sound angry anymore, only tired. You put the tiny notebook into your pocket.

When you pulled the tent open, he was sitting on his cot, and the blurry light falling in from the tiny window cast his face in deep shadows. He blinked against the sun in your back, and some weight seemed to fall off him. You took it for yourself.

It hurt, not being able to tell him everything you wanted to.

You set up outside, using some empty crates as a makeshift table as Bucky pulled out a pen and stared at the blank sheet of paper in front of him. Its edges were flapping in the wind.

He put the tip of the pen down and made a line, almost ripping a hole into the page. His jaw clenched even more. The paper bunched up underneath his hand, and even you could tell he was gripping the pen too tightly.

Carefully, you reached out and held the edge of the paper down for him.

Bucky closed his eyes for a long second and took a breath. Then, he started again.

***

It took another couple of weeks, but as spring grew into an early summer, Bucky began moving around on his own again. He was still weak from his prolonged bed rest, and his walk was off-balance, but more often than not, he picked you up for a round through the camp before settling down for your writing lesson.

You’d assumed that once you’d made your way through the entire alphabet, he’d teach you simple sentences, the ones children started with. Your letters didn’t look much better than theirs, anyway; they lacked the confidence of years of practice.

Soon, however, he was telling you stories.

Stories of places you’d never heard of, of machinery and grand ideas you could scarcely even imagine. Some of them he surely must have made up; they seemed too fantastical to be real. You were supposed to take notes, but found yourself too enthralled by his words time and time again. Trying to focus on your spelling was like swimming upstream; his tide worked against you.

“It’s fine,” he laughed when he’d deciphered your scribblings while you grimaced. “‘Sergeant’ is a hard one. You did great, angel.”

He might have made a wonderful teacher, you thought as you watched him write it down correctly. In a different life, or maybe even in this one.

“Have you ever been able to speak?” Bucky asked one day, in a way that told you he’d been thinking about wording this for so long it finally just fell out as bluntly as this.

Your hesitation, to him, seemed answer enough, because he cleared his throat.

“What happened? If you don’t mind my askin’.”

This was a new habit of his, one that had developed quickly once your spelling got legible. He kept asking you personal questions, and you never quite knew how to answer.

It’s complicated, you wrote slowly.

“Did it hurt?”

You met his gaze, again unsure of your response. You underlined your words. Then, you put up a hand before he could say anything else. The tip of your pen was shaking slightly.

I like this. With you.

He blushed so beautifully, like a sunset lowering its head between the treetops, and he stayed silent for a very long while before he spoke again.

“Could you tell me your name?”

You thought about it. You’d never seen it written down, of course, not in human letters anyway. You weren’t even sure it was proper to tell him.

But his eyes, his rainwater eyes focused on you with that gentle spark of curiosity burning brightly, and you put your pen down again.

You tried several ways of how you supposed it might be spelled before you settled on one that you liked.

Bucky read your name, and you huffed a breath of air. You weren’t one to still believe in gods, but it sounded almost like a prayer on his lips.

The smile that followed it sealed your fate.

You knew, then, that you’d go anywhere with him, if ever he asked. You’d stay by his side as long as he allowed you to, no matter how stormy the waters.

You’d saved his life, but he pulled you to shore.

No nymph was meant to appear a mortal for as long as you had, but you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t bring yourself to leave his side, not once you’d heard his laugh and read his thoughts and felt his heartbeat underneath your fingertips. You no longer wondered what your name would sound like on his tongue; you wanted to taste it.

What a strange feeling, desire.

How very human of your transformed body to wish for things your nature would never allow, how flawed a concept. But then, why did your heart feel so … heavy?

You noticed details in Bucky you never thought a human capable of, like the way his eyes would grow soft when he watched his friends, or how determination did not just make him harden but also tremble with sheltered trepidation.

Trains did not go by often during your stay in the camp, but when they did, he was the first to notice. You couldn’t take those terrors from him, no matter how much you wished for it.

You tried, anyway.

***

Falling in love with Bucky was easy, but falling in love with the human world happened all on its own, and you only caught up when they took you upstream. It was strange to realise; their way of living was so fast, so dirty and hurried and grand. It terrified you, and fascinated you all the same. The city was large, and the people seemed so small against its high buildings and neverending cobbled streets. Tiny, countless pebbles in a river.

You kept tight hold of Bucky’s hand as you made your way through the crowd, your nose twitching. There was an air of excitement amongst soldiers and city people alike, and it only got more jubilant once you’d reached your destination.

You swallowed down your beating heart as you tried to take everything in.

The colours, the smells, so strong you thought you might taste them, the feel of dresses brushing against your skin and the sound of laughter and clinking glasses. And the music. You’d never heard anything like it, loud and happy and right in front of you.

You were nudged onto a stool in the corner, watching wide-eyed as the musicians’ fingers moved so fast you could barely keep track, their beat leaving goosebumps all over your skin. All the while, people were dancing in mad circles around them.

You didn’t know whether you’d sat there for minutes or hours by the time Steve emerged from the cluster of people that had formed around the bar. “There you are!” he called over, and even without looking at him, you could feel Bucky smile next to you.

“You’re saying that like it wasn’t you who got side-tracked,” he said, taking another sip of his drink.

“You should be celebrating, Buck, that’s the whole point.”

“I like this,” Bucky said, looking at you, but Steve ignored him.

“What are you doing at the side of the dance floor, anyway?” he said as if he were settling an old score. He turned to you with a conspiratorial look. “Your man is the best dancer around, and don’t let him pretend otherwise.”

Even though he wasn’t drunk, the alcohol had left mischief in Steve’s eyes. With his dishevelled hair and reddened cheeks, he looked rather boyish, and it suited him, you thought. You wondered what Bucky would look like with that much ease running through his veins.

“She doesn’t wanna dance with me, knucklehead,” Bucky groaned. “Now piss off and bother someone else.”

Steve winked at you, but did leave you to it. You watched Bucky watch him walk away. His face puzzled you; it looked almost pained.

“What?” he said quietly when he caught your stare. You gestured for his hand.

I do, you traced into his palm. His fingers twitched. You didn’t let go.

“You do what?” he asked, carefully.

Your eyes flitted to the dance floor, then back to him. The band still played at a fast pace, something that sent feet stamping and skirts twirling. It looked fun.

Bucky lingered in the same realisation for a moment before he grimaced. “I don’t wanna make you look a fool, angel, I don’t.”

You pulled him to his feet.

Standing on the dance floor, you quickly realised that watching the other dancers had made the steps and turns look a lot easier than they actually turned out to be in practice. Your limbs didn’t want to seem to move in that same weightless, flowing fashion; at least not at that speed.

A tiny smirk formed on Bucky’s lips as he tried guiding your feet with his own, his hand loosely holding your waist. The ever-shifting directions confused you; every time you felt like you’d figured it out, it seemed like the movements changed mid-stream and suddenly went the opposite way. You threw your head back in frustration as you stepped on his foot for the tenth time.

Bucky just chuckled. “Hold on,” he told you quietly.

Before you could give him a questioning look, he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you off the ground. With a silent gasp, your hands tightened around his neck, your body pressed closer to his than you’d ever been as he spun you around to the rhythm of the music, your hearts beating in time.

You’d been floating your entire life, but you’d never felt as weightless and carefree as you did right then, his laugh such a beautiful melody you forgot about the rest of the world around you.

Only when he put you back down did you realise that the song must have changed; indeed, the crowd had dispersed, only a few other couples were still dancing to the slow tune the band was playing now. You brushed a strand of hair out of Bucky’s face and smiled, trying to convey every bit of the happiness you felt on your face.

He closed his eyes and touched his forehead to yours, gently swaying you from side to side. You felt your chest expand with it.

It all seemed so impossible.

For you to be here now, with human legs, in the embrace of this man, this brave, handsome, courteous soldier that you adored more than anyone or anything else; how many drops had to have fallen in the right place at the right time to set your path in stone the way it was supposed to be.

“I like you, you know, I really do,” Bucky said quietly. “If things’d been different, I’da asked you to be my girl.”

You stopped breathing.

“I mean it,” he said, tugging your chin up. “You’re beautiful, and kind, and smart, and you saved my life back in that river.”

You shook with his confession, your thoughts swirling. The temptation to give in was almost unbearable when he looked at you like that, like he wanted to explore every last corner of your soul. But he had no idea how deep you ran.

“What is it, angel?”

You wanted to tell him that this was everything you wanted, and that that was the problem. You didn’t know whether this was him asking, or whether your magic had sunk so deep it confused the very core of him.

On the other hand, if you refused him now and ripped it out all at once, wouldn’t that be even worse? What if it took all the good you’d been trying to do away with it as well? No, you couldn’t risk that. You had to stay with him until he didn’t need you anymore; and whether that took forever or just three more days, you’d have to be fine with it.

Bucky sighed and dragged his hand through his hair, taking half a step back. “I’m being selfish, I know. I just can’t help but feel like there’s something …”

He trailed off, and you put a hand over his heart to urge him on. You could feel it racing underneath his layers. He swallowed heavily.

“I’m being shipped back to the States next week.”

Again, you held your breath, even though this time, his confession was like a bucket of ice water down your spine. You didn’t even hear the next couple of sentences, only listening again when he said your name.

“—I can’t ask you to come with me, it’d be—I’m not even—”

You frowned in question. Why not?

He sighed again. “Don’t look at me like that.”

Like what?

“Like I’m worth your pity.”

Your fingers held tightly to the material of his jacket. Bucky didn’t meet your eye. You both must have stopped moving at some point, but suddenly, you felt dizzy.

Slowly, you reached for his hand. You weren’t sure which one of you was shaking more.

Ask me, you traced into his palm. Bucky shook his head. Ask me, you wrote again, more quickly this time.

“I can’t,” he said, wanting. “I shouldn’t.”

Let me, you wrote onto his skin, and you could see the moment his doubts, for now, washed away.

“Come home with me.”

***

The evening before you were set to leave, you returned to the river one last time to say goodbye. Your legs melted together as soon as you emerged yourself in the water, its familiar touch caressing your cheeks.

“I’m here to tell you I’m leaving,” you called out to the fish, but they already knew. You were all part of these waters, and there were no secrets kept.

No matter how much you would miss it, you were sure about your decision. You’d follow him  across the sea, over any mountain, to the ends of the world, if need be, where the waters were raining into the sky; if only he’d permit it.

You settled down at the bottom of the river for a final time, letting its slick brush over you and stick to your hair, committing every stone and plant to memory. It was then you realised you’d been searching for the sea your entire life only to find it in a human’s eyes.

You were ready to see what else you would find out there.

When you emerged from the water, it was raining, warm and heavy on your skin after the coolness of the river that was no longer yours. You put your head in your neck, your eyes closed as your lungs readjusted to breathing the sweet spring air.

Bucky was waiting for you underneath the shield of your favourite willow tree, his eyes heavy as he watched you. Your neatly folded cloak was hanging over his shoulder.

“I’ve heard stories, you know,” he said, his hand slowly following the seam of it, pulling it closer to his frame. You bit the inside of your cheek. “They’re not just made up, are they?”

You shook your head slowly.

“Why did you save me?”

The question surprised you in its desperation. Still, you didn’t reach out to him. Even if you had dared, you couldn’t; you seemed frozen to the spot. Instead, your hand found its way to your throat.

Waters or not, you were still incomplete.

But your soldier was as smart as he was brave.

He nodded for you to take the last few steps ashore towards him, and then wrapped you in your cloak as best as he could with his single arm. You shivered as it sank into your skin once more. At the scent of him melting into yours. You could almost taste it.

You looked at him, expecting to see the terror they would always warn you about. The hatred. Betrayal. Fury. What you found in his eyes instead mirrored what you could feel leaking from your own: awe.

He gave you your gift back.

You weren’t well-versed in the traditions that your kind had upheld for centuries, but this even you knew, even after all these years on your own. After all, you’d dreamed it up so many times, never daring to hope it would become reality.

This meant a proposal.

But he couldn’t mean that. No matter what kind of tales he’d heard, he couldn’t know. And you weren’t about to bind yourself to him without his knowledge.

So you slowly, reluctantly shook your head no.

“Did I get something wrong?” Bucky asked, his voice cracking with concern.

He wasn’t supposed to make it this hard. He wasn’t supposed to figure out who, what you were, not like this, not for a good time yet. You had meant to take care of him, but how were you going to, now?

A droplet of river water fell off your lashes and he caught it with his thumb before he could seem to stop himself. You pulled his hand away gently.

You don’t mean it, you traced onto his arm.

He didn’t. It was just the spell, and it would release him any second now.

You couldn’t help but wish for your notebook, then, the one filled with his stories and laughter and all the things you could never say. Maybe its familiar pages would help dull this pain.

Your lungs had dried up and your skin grew warm beneath his touch, but his ache was woven into him by outside forces. Yours though … yours was winning.

“I’ve said a lot of things in my life that I didn’t mean, angel, but this ain’t one of them.”

You looked up at him and found his eyes the same. It should be impossible, that beautiful, terrible, hopeful shade of blue. It had been haunting your dreams for as long as you could remember, and it had nothing to do with the spell you wove upon him on that snowy riverbank.

I love you, you thought, and maybe he did the same.

When he kissed you, it tasted of saltwater, the kind of oceanic sadness you’d so often seen in his eyes. It took your breath away, reduced you to a fish on dry land and made you human again. Something settled, then, with his hand on your back and yours cupping his face. It had the taste of finality to it, this transformation.

He didn’t seem to want to stop kissing you, as if you were still the only thing breathing life into his lungs. Or maybe he was returning the favour.

“Bucky,” you whispered against his lips, and a shudder went through him. “Bucky.”

Your voice sounded different to your own ears, but you couldn’t tell if it was the air or something else entirely.

He said your name with such reverence your knees almost buckled, mouth seeking out yours again before the echo of your last kiss had left it. His hand trailed up slowly, to your side, your elbow, your cheek, his thumb caressing the soft skin on your temple carefully, adoringly.

There was a gust of wind as the last bit of magic worked its course, but you barely noticed it. Only at the very back of your mind did you come to realise that your toes had gone numb with the cold.

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[lavendercitizen]

Mir. mir mirmir. I knew I wasn't gonna be prepared for this, i mean the angst hit me like a fucking truck😭. These stories just evoke so much love in me and Lumby is so wonderful, and I'm once again rendered incapable of formulating one coherent thought.

Sometimes I feel like these words lose their value if I tell you them every time but I can't not tell you how fantastically brilliant you are, and I mean it with all my heart, and I probably said that more than once already too but it's true. From start to finish — losing myself in soft, white snow, and the wonder of the first spring in Bunny's forever home, to feeling Bucky's undeniable reverence in each paragraph — I was hanging onto every line.

[...] “Bunny, my precious girl– it’s gonna be okay. I’m sorry… m’so sorry bun…”. [...]

“Oh my sweet girl, please,” he sobs, a whimper lost against the base of your neck.

I will need you to hand over the magnificence, the virtuosity, the BRAIN to be capable of writing down these lines. They pierced my heart directly, with no mercy. All of it did. God, I can literally imagine Bucky's face falling as the call cuts off. Her stuttering and the howling wind. CRYING over how devoted he is when he finally finds her — The way you paint their love so vividly is just everything to me, this AU is pure warmth. Sorry not sorry for the dramatics. I'm in love<3

Okay Mir I know this is mean but like what would happen if Bunny got lost in the woods during a snowstorm while Lumby was at work.....

lost in the woods

beefy!lumberjack bucky x f!reader (lumby x bunny au)

wc: 4.8k

warnings: angst, gross fluff and body worship, a very very very needy scared and hopelessly in love lumby

a/n: yes like the most amazing Disney ballad to ever exist. thanks for always ruining me so sweetly, col. not edited or proofread, all mistakes are my own. happy spring babes xx

𝐢 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤. 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢

“Last storm of the season is always the worst, bun. Make sure you stay inside, can’t have my bunny gettin’ lost on me– or frostbite. Alright, pretty girl? Can’t love you the way I need to if you’re not safe and sound.”

God, you should’ve listened. 

But the snow just looked so joyous as it fell, surrounding the trees sprouting with their new buds and blossoming flowers. The passing of winter to spring was always the most exciting time to be living in the middle of such a grand wood– but it was your first time; your first time living in Bucky’s cabin.

Sure, you’d caught glimpses of the beauty of it in the beginnings of your relationship– on those mornings you’d slept over, awaking happily to the vision of a sweetly snoring Bucky and the comfort of the forest’s morning hymnal. The sight of flowers dangling on the very edges of tree branches, slowly opening and embracing the rustle and song of the rest of the forest life; the painting you’d find yourself inside of after a few weeks, the trek from your car to his front door littered in petals of vibrant pinks and whites, of dying cones and senseless berries– some still dancing towards the forest floor– drowning all paths in the proclamation of spring’s arrival. But now, you were experiencing the end of winter and the start of spring firsthand; there was no chance you’d ever grow tired of it.

Maybe your Bucky was wrong– there was no way this last snow could be deemed anything short of magical and whimsical, let alone “the worst”. 

But he was never wrong. Especially not when it came to his bunny. 

The itch to tug on your winter gear one last time at the sight of soft flakes was too great– a thick pair of Bucky’s socks and an oversized thermal loosely clinging to you under your parka and sweats before you could reason against it. 

Staring at the falling snow, secure and safe underneath the warmth of a blanket cuddled in your favorite chair perched at the window was nothing compared to feeling it– having it sing and whistle past your ears; to have it fall and tease against your lashes; against the frigid apples of your cheeks; along the flush of your numbing lips. 

It was easy to lose track of time while dancing in the middle of such wonder. 

It’s how you found yourself, unaware of how long you’d been aimlessly walking, now struggling to find a way back home, fighting to hold your footing and to keep your eyes open at the incessant prickling of the metastasizing crystalline snow pellets hitting roughly against you. Each pierce of the rough snow hitting the skin of your face, bouncing around your heavy outerwear and sending unpleasant tremors and tingles along every inch of your body confirmed a terrible truth– you could hear your mistake loudly and with a bold punch.

 The darkening of the sky was fading eerie, sealing your fate further and further into the fervor and strength of the last winter storm Bucky warned you about. 

Well shit. What now?

Your phone. 

Your hands shakily move to free your cell from the confines of your sweats. Struggling to hold the phone with numb hands, to see the screen in the middle of such a blizzard growing angrier and harsher by the second, you manage to unlock the device and click on Bucky’s name. 

Service was terrible in the middle of the woods, but it seems luck felt it in her heart to hand you a little bit of reprieve from the trouble you'd managed to get yourself into; 4 bars of reception and a working dial tone that would save you from this mess. 

But it seemed luck was also in a business of mockery– your own negligence besting you, phone battery lingering on 3%.

Come on Bucky, please pick up the phone. Pick up pick up pick up– 

“Hey bunny,” his soothing voice greets you in a delighted sigh, “you have no idea the day I’m having. I’ll be home soon and I just need to feel my swe–”

Concern that you’ll freeze to death prompts you, cutting off Bucky’s silky voice viciously with the chattering of teeth and stuttering words, “B-bucky, please, I need you! D-don’t know where I am ‘nd I need you. P-please Bucky, I’m in the–”

And then the comforting sound of his breathing stopped. 

Silence– only the unrelenting whir of the snow gusting around you and the melody it rang out within your jaw.

Of course, your phone would die.

You’re fucked. Alone, lost, shaking, and freezing from the inside out in the middle of the forest that brought you a life filled with warmth and Bucky. How ironic. 

Maybe if you tried to find your way to the lumberyard… it was only a few miles from his cabin. If he could do it, so could you.

But Bucky had lived here most of his life.

The chance of you finding that path was as slim as the chance of you finding the road back to the house.

A crippling realization hit you when that sharp left turn at the large evergreen you could’ve sworn was a sign of the path leading to Bucky’s cabin just happened to be a tree that looked familiar. 

Turning, you were met with the same fate– harsh wind and unforgiving snow, row after row of high and brooding evergreen trunks, of thickets and a now white forest floor, mocking you in their pious stature. 

Every inch of this damn forest looked exactly the same.

A few more turns, a few more furious swipes at the snow fogging your sight, a few more hazy visions of ginormous bark that were perfect carbon copies of the one next to it.

Moving in frantic circles, your brain tries to keep up with the ominous thudding of the adrenaline coursing through your veins. But even your brain couldn’t seem to form coherent or quick enough thoughts, your eyes and limbs fighting to keep your body moving in any direction.

You’re growing tired– exhausted.

Keep your eyes open. Keep moving. Follow your footprints.

That’s what Bucky would say.

It could’ve been seconds, minutes, hours– time was as lost to you as you were. Scrambling to find sight of something you knew, pushing yourself to the brink of a psychotic break trying to find some semblance of something you recognized.

Your hopes of following your own trail were cleanly wiped by the unrelenting fall of the harsh snow, sight of your presence in the woods something out of an old ghost tale– with every next step, snow would fill the one preceding it. 

Tears of fright welled in every avenue of your body that was ridden with nerves and a pulse, unable to breach the surface in any motion of exhale against the harsh cold biting at every last ounce of your warmth and moisture. 

The sky began to grow still, your once hazy vision clouding over entirely and closing your eyes entirely to the storm encompassing you. The turmoil– inner and out once raging vivaciously, now a distant nagging of a far-off memory.

Maybe the forest floor would be a good place to lie down for a bit.

It’d feel soft, comforting– to feel the soft kiss of winter bidding you her sweet farewell. Bucky’s two favorite sights– the falling snow and you. His precious bunny, blanketed and sheltered in a rage of a frozen squall.

And then you hear it.

A faint howl, sharper and straining the more it seemed to breathe. A heady affliction of burning desperation– of a blood-curdling yell. Growing louder and louder, surrounding you in bursts of wind and harsh pellets hitting against your numb skin.

Your name– screamed, frightfully over and over, breaking and cracking in boiling anguish each time its bellow pierced the dark sky.

“Oh fuck, come on bun! Please, I gotta find you! Please… bunny, where are you?” a harsh cry wails, a sound so chilling you never would’ve thought your Bucky could make it.

“B-bucky?” it takes all of your remaining strength not spent on keeping you right side up to whimper out, screaming in the lowest part of your throat. 

His large frame hurtles towards you, shaking hands hastily ripping his big jacket off of him as his bloodshot eyes devour your trembling form. 

“My sweet girl, oh fuck– Bunny you’re– shit. You’re okay, I gotcha. I’m here bun, can you keep your eyes on me, hmm? I’m gonna get you home, but you gotta keep your eyes on me. Come on, need you...” he pleads.

Y-your jacket Buck, youcan’t give– 

But your shaking was too great, your words strewn together and clinging to your dry tongue as your body finally goes limp.

Y’can’t, you'llbe cold baby…

The words never had the strength to leave your mouth.

His coat was already wrapped around you, your body secure and suffocated in his strong but wobbling hold before you could even bat an eye in recognition. Your eyes struggle to stay parted, vision of snow and dark greens whizzing past you, all around you in a hazy blur as Bucky runs.

Immobile, unfeeling, and unable to do anything but lie quaking and crushed in Bucky’s tormented embrace.

Your frozen nose rests harshly pressed on the spot just below his ear. The frigid temperature of the air and of that leaving your body in brutal waves hardly touches him. 

It simply doesn’t matter– holding you close to him as he jets back to the safety of the cabin is all he can let his body and mind dwell on.

He nears the clearing leading to the cabin, somehow managing to pick up an even greater speed. Your body clings to him from the great force alone, your limbs asleep and thankful for the assistance. 

“Gotta get you warm, gonna take care of you… gotta make it all better. You have to let me, please bunny...” his faint voice whimpers against your temple, more for the sake of his own sanity than yours.

“Please bun, I need you…” a broken whisper. 

“M’kay Buck,” your voice pushes through chattering teeth as the warmth of the cabin immediately greets you. Shutting the cabin door with his leg, he swiftly runs towards your bedroom, “m’fine baby…”.

If your voice actually spoke, he ignores it– his hands move in a fury of lightning to strip you of your soaked layers. His pained nerves ignited with tremors of the thunderous hiccups of his breathing hardly delay him from the task at hand. Before you can open your eyes again, he has you cradled against his unclothed chest, pressing a warm towel up and down your wet skin.

When did he get undressed? 

A mumbling mantra of concern breathlessly leaves his lips and soft cries continue to rack his body, still overwhelmed with grief even though he has you, alive and only a bit shook up in his arms. 

He entangles his legs with your thighs, pulling himself around you, cocooning the thick duvet adorning your bed around your shaking form.

His tears brush against your face, his lashes and the stubble of his beard dripping them down your skin in unrhythmic plops. “Bunny, my precious girl– it’s gonna be okay. I’m sorry… m’so sorry bun…”. He rubs his hands up and down your body, trembling but trying to get a normal pulse of warmth back in your body.

His lips quiver along your temple, soft pecks of his concern meant to soothe you– but acting in penance of his own torture. 

The only thing that could turn Bucky’s world upside was currently playing out in real-time. He could’ve lost the love of his life inside a world she only knew because of him. He almost did.

“Oh my sweet girl, please,” he sobs, a whimper lost against the base of your neck.

Your fingers finally have a bit of feeling back in them, slowly crawling their way out from under your stomach and up to his chest. They shake slightly, unable to press any harder than with the most feather-like reverence, ghosting softly over his warm muscles. “Baby, I’m ‘kay, m’right here,” your lips lazily make out, tickling faintly against his collarbone.

He pulls you tighter, his hands moving to warm the length of your spine. His head shakes against you, a disheartened sob leaving his mouth. “I love you more than anything, bun. I’m so sorry…”

You tap your fingers against his chest gently, attempting to leave a soft kiss against his neck. A pained whisper of I love you Lumby, teases up the column of his throat and sends goosebumps along his neck and past his ear.

His eyes close, breathing in the feel of you alive in his arms, allowing him the time he needs to process everything as warmth finally begins to thaw you.

He clings to you a few minutes longer, feeling every inch of skin he can rub his hands along to prompt more heat to flow through you. His tears never cease, but they quiet– the true torment of the situation, succumb to plaguing his mind with guilt.

Bucky allows himself a few more moments of this quiet shame, breathing softly against your neck and the curves of your face.

When you’re finally able to move in his arms he shifts, removing himself from the bed and wrapping the blanket around you. He presses a shaky kiss to your forehead, a tear dropping against your chin.

“Bucky?” you watch as he moves to the bathroom across the hall, hearing the knob to the bath faucet turning on. He fiddles around with a few of the drawers, a few of the cabinets, setting up the bath and room to his liking while ruminating in the painful stew his mind has him soaking in. 

He returns to your shared room, a tub of body butter and a soft towel in hand. Placing them gently next to you on the nightstand, he removes the duvet and towel from your body, remaining silent and keeping his eyes downcast the whole way. 

You reach for him as best as you can, the chill of the air causing you to desperately miss the warmth only his body seems to bring. But he always seems to know what you want, gathering you tightly in his arms and carrying you into the bathroom. 

The room is dimly lit with a few of your favorite candles and incense, perched unceremoniously on the corner of the tub. The faint scent of your body wash fills your nostrils, floating in the air as it bubbles contently in the swell of the water. You pull his face towards yours, begging to meet his stare.

Tears rest as radiant as ever in the breath of his eyes, wells of love and sadness pooling deep. He bends at the hip slightly with you still cradled in his arms, eyes still not meeting yours as his hand tests the temperature of the water before placing you in it. The heat of the water immediately quells your remaining shakes, replacing them with a shudder of relief and a sigh of welcomed air.

Kneeling, Bucky grabs your shampoo and scoops some into his palm, working it gently against your scalp, massaging any tension away he could manage. He knew nothing of how to care for your hair– not the way you did– but he needed to do this. 

For himself, for you, for the terrible thought of never having taken the time to try and almost having the opportunity ripped from him.

He pays close attention to your body; to the way the bubbles cling to you in delight as you melt under his fingertips; the way the water encases you in such still protection. He can’t meet your eyes, he won’t. He needs this. He presses a sigh to your temple as you curl close into his bicep, letting him rub your scalp.

His hands scoop up water and work their best to rid your hair of shampoo, anxiously wanting to wash all traces of the remnants of the frozen hell you got trapped in. “Feels s’nice, Lumby,” you whisper. His eyes flutter to meet yours, his face unchanging of its somber expression.

Bucky stands up, placing one foot into the tub before the other, staring down at you for a moment before taking you in his arms, positioning you between his legs. He brings your back to his chest and your hand to his lips, painting your skin in kisses from the palm of your left hand all the way up to your right shoulder. You sink into his touch, letting him feel you in whatever way he needs.

“Wanna talk about it?” you mouth against his forearm, your hand gently scratching up and down the muscles of his hard thigh.

He clears his throat, shakily sighing before his scratchy and hoarse whisper breaks the air, “Have you ever felt like you lost the ground you were standing on? I never– I’ve never felt my heart stop beating the way I– I swear. I… do you know what that was like? Hearing you? So afraid; so hollowed by a sound I have nightmares of? The wind. I know that noise. That’s how I knew bun– what was going on. I was already on my way to find you before you could… I just knew. And when the line cut out, I ran. Straight from the yard, I dropped everything. Only a mile or two, but I had to. I’d never… never be able to live– I can’t even…” a pained breath cuts himself off, prompting him to squeeze his arms tighter around your stomach and inhale through a deep sob, his calloused hands unmoving but trembling firmly on your hips.

Grounding himself– the close proximity of your body against his in the heat of the soothing water, not enough. He breathes in the smell of your neck, of the spot behind your ear as his lips quake against your skin. The need to confirm you were there– the need to feel you there, alive and breathing under his watch is all that could help him breathe right now.

“You don’t understand just how my world turns for you; how my heart beats for you. I felt it– true pain, bunny. Never felt anything like that in my life. I still feel it.”

“I’m right here Bucky. I’m so sorry I ever went out there… you told me not to and I di–” the force of his shaking head cuts you off, a troubled whine vibrating roughly into the skin of your neck.

“Don’t do that. I’d never blame this on you, ever. I should have that part of the woods marked off, I should’ve been home sooner. I almost didn’t even go in today, I shouldn’t have. I should–” you turn yourself in his hold to cradle his face between your hands. His eyes tightly shut as tears roll down his cheeks, the water sloshing and spilling around you both.

“There’s no way I’m allowing you to ruin yourself by thinking of how you could’ve prevented this. I shouldn’t have gone out in a storm, Buck. But I’m here, and you found me. Right? You saved me, baby. I love you– and you have me.”

He shakes his head as best he can while held between your palms, not wanting to miss your gentle touch for a second. His hands smooth up your sides and shoulders, shifting his position in the tub to envelop you wholly, needing to ease the ache of his chest. 

After a few minutes of conditioning your hair and peppering gentle kisses along your shoulders, against the crook of your neck; thankful sighs against the shell of your ear; after wandering hands massage body wash into your skin, he brings your lips to his for a lingering kiss.

“Come on bun,” a whisper pressed to the side of your mouth, “lemme love you. Gotta take care of you.”

He stands out of the tub first, drying himself off quickly with a towel before picking you up, wrapping you in a fluffy blue one. He sits on the toilet lid holding you in his lap, letting the material wrapped tightly around you soak up all the water it can without having to let you leave his embrace.

He presses a kiss to the back of your head and you pepper his hand cradled around your stomach with sweet pecks. He squeezes you tight, sighing into the towel covering your back.

He places you on your feet in front of him, dragging the towel over the remaining dampness of your skin. Bucky looks up at you, grabbing your chin and pulling gently at your bottom lip with his thumb. His eyes drink in your face; the plump curves of your cheek and the soft lines of your nose. The dip in your upper lip and the crease of your eyes.

A sad smile taints his face, moving forward to press a kiss against your stomach. He stands, hooking his arms around your waist and carrying you to your room. His hand taps at your thigh gently when turning into your doorway, prompting you to wrap them around his waist. 

“Grab that towel for me, bun,” he whispers. You lean down gently from his hip and grab it. Taking it from you he lays it against your bed, kissing your hand that gave it to him, placing you down on it. 

You lay watching him as he grabs the body butter from the nightstand, gathering some and quickly warming it up in his palms. 

He starts down at your feet, rubbing soft circles into your skin, moving up to your ankles and making sure not even a centimeter goes untouched. His lips meet your shin, following the movements of his hands. 

“You don’t know what you mean to me, I love you so much, it hurts. I need you,” he breathes against your knee. 

“Can’t ever scare me like that again, please bun, can’t handle it,” he grabs your hand, massaging at the tension of your wrist and palm, tracing all the lines and tips of each of your fingers. 

“These fingers,” he kisses them gently, moving to your other hand to do the same. Grabbing more lotion and repeating his actions, rubbing over your knuckles with a firm thumb and a soft ghosting of his lips.

“This stomach,” he kneads reverently. Causing you to squirm as he kisses every fold, bump, curve, and mark that makes up his favorite mural he longs to study again and again. His hands massage the skin of your ribs, lips pressing open-mouthed kisses. He moans softly, trailing his hands down over your hips. “These hips– make me fucking crazy.”

Bucky’s lips slow their motions, nose nudging against the divots and swell of your skin, teasing himself more than you. His hands travel down, encircling each thigh firmly.

“Fuck– these thighs. Need these thighs, so fucking perfect,” he whimpers. His lips worshipping with feather-soft precision and hushed sighs of his love. He can't help but get overwhelmed, working his mouth a bit harder, hands firmly grasping your thighs and pulling you closer to his pleading lips.

“Your shoulders... this spine that keeps my sweet girl whole,” he wraps his arms under you, kneading from your tailbone to your upper back. “Need you, need all of you,” he pulls you close by your hips, angling you upwards and kissing the pudge of your stomach.

Tears trail your skin, his words affecting you more than he’d ever know. “Need you too, Buck. I love you so much.”

“So fucking soft. So good for me,” his low whisper praises against your belly.

“Bucky. I…thank you. I’m so in love with you. More than anything, more than you’ll ever know,” he gathers you in his arms, sitting up in the bed and moving you to his lap. Your arms circle themselves around his neck, his lips caressing the skin of your right arm with tender kisses.

“I know, bunny. I need to love you forever. There’s no way I won’t– but I just really need you to know that, bun,” his hands wander up your spine, pressing you tightly against him. His lips embrace the skin of your sternum. “The way I need to love you is necessary. You’ve ruined me, given me such life. I’d do anything for you.”

“Lumby?” your fingers trace up the curve of his chest.

“Yes, sweet girl?” 

“I could use a kiss–” his lips meet yours before you can blink. A squeak escapes you, a giggle of surprise teasing up your throat and urging you to thread your fingers through his damp locks, drawing him closer. 

His lips move against yours, tender and desperate, cradling you in his hands and stealing all the breath from your lungs. A low moan sounds from the back of your throat, his tongue caressing your mouth as your fingers scratch at his scalp. He whimpers against you, lost in the feel of you.

“How’s that?” he breathes against your lips. His lips press earnestly along the length of your mouth.  “Need a few more? I think you do, bunny,” his hands wrap around your jaw and neck, tilting your head and holding you where he needs you.

“Perfect,” he mumbles, your eyes flutter open to take in his appearance. His eyes are tightly shut, cheeks pink and wet with a few stray tears. You thumb them away, grabbing his face protectively between your palms.

“Never stop, Bucky,” you kiss along his reddened cheeks.

“If today means you’ll finally let me keep you wrapped around me all the time now, I might have a heart attack.”

You throw your head back in a loud laugh, crinkles forming at the squint of your eyes and flutter of your lashes. You burrow your face in his neck, an open-mouthed kiss snug at the base. “What do you mean, now? As if any other time is any different,” your sweet giggle teases at his ears. “Anything you want, baby. Just don’t ever like seeing you so upset… I’ll do anything to make sure you’re never like that again.”

He lets out a deep groan, his hands tracing along the expanse of your thighs. “Shouldn’t have said that bun. Now you’re never leaving this bed ever again,” he swiftly grabs you, gently pushing you until your back is against the mattress. His hands stroke and squeeze at your flesh as they work up and down your thighs, claiming your hips and up the swell of your stomach. 

His lips meet your skin, softly scattering kisses along the journey his hands have taken the last hour until his lips meet yours. 

He hovers over you, his arms caging you under him as his fingers trace the curves of your face, “Now that I think about it, I need a kiss for every second of this awful day I had. Need you to fix it,” he dramatically pouts, “so I can love you better... yeah. I need as many kisses as I can give ya. You’re not leaving this bed until I’m feeling 100% better, which definitely will be a really, really, long time.”

He mimics crying, a loud and stupid noise meant to make you laugh, blaring loudly from his chest and into the space of your bedroom. He continues, a few of his own giggles and boyish laughter seeping through his theatrics. "I'm never leaving you alone again," he sighs.

Adoring hands trail down your body as his plump lips follow suit. “Gosh bun, can’t even fathom the thought that this perfect body had to bear the cold today…these thighs. Are you sure you’re okay?” he smirks, a teasing glimmer filling his reverent ceruleans. “Are you sure you’re feeling warm enough? These thighs look a bit cold to me… we can’t have that.”

“Bucky…” you giggle.

“Bunny…” his hands spider along the stretch marks mapped out along the skin of your belly and hips. “Come on, they’re freezing bun!” he traces soft circles into the crease of your thighs, tiny tingles and a teasing tickle erupting in shivers. “Look, they’re shaking…” he grins triumphantly, knowing just how to perfectly play your body against you. “They’re begging for my attention. Come on bunny, I need to feel ya, please,” he whines. “Ya’know I can’t say no to ‘em. Uhnn,” he groans, “you’re always just laying there looking so pretty, s’not fair,” he kisses his way down your stomach, painting gentle strokes of love along every inch of you. 

His lips turn into a smirk the closer he gets to the swell of your thigh. His teeth trace down your lower stomach, nipping and mouthing at the sensitive skin at the top of your legs. Bucky sighs happily for the first time all day, laying against the cushion of your thigh, turning his head to look up at you. The look in his eyes nearly sends you back outside, deep and lost in the middle of the forest– only now, numb from head to toe with nothing but his heated adoration for you.

“Need a few kisses with these thighs, bun. I’ll get my sweet girl warm in no time...”