#β© ππ΄πΏπΎππ : πππΈπ»π΄π πππΈπ»πΈπ½ππΊπΈοΌοΏ½οΏ½οΏ½
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@mieczlw β€οΈοΈ
βYou were so lovely, you blended in with the flowers. I did not notice you at first, until you moved and the entire garden came alive.β
β wwhatliesinfireflies
#π°π½π°π»πππΈπ : πππππππππ ππππππππππ#β© οΏ½οΏ½οΏ½π΄πΏπΎππ : πππΈπ»π΄π πππΈπ»πΈπ½ππΊπΈοΌβ#β© πΉ. π±. π±π°ππ½π΄π#πππππ£ππ
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ππππππ β ππππππ πππππππ πππππππ πππ and for a moment he was lost inside of it . The familiar scent of paints and a soft kind of soap kept sweeping across the old soldier β s senses . Something so quintessentially Stiles - he held him tight , but not overly so , a caution to himself to always monitor how strong he was when stacked against others .
Starvation of touch is an insidious sort of thing , how it beds down in the subconscious of our skin and it ' s often nary a thought until there ' s a whole human , warm and purposeful , resting against one ' s chest , entwined with linked arms . Not minding how Stiles ' arms gently tightened around him , they didn ' t herald some buried remnant of the Winter Soldier , the gesture simply just felt as it should - as though it was always meant to be . When he pulled back from Bucky , a rush of cool air replaced the warmth the other man left resting against his chest . The impulse to pull him back bubbled to the surface , followed with indecent haste by the impulse to suffocate that desire , but in a moment of uncharacteristic optimism , Bucky chased that aforementioned impulse .
Most of the words Stiles spoke fell on entirely deaf ears , susurruses in the background din of his heart ' s loud and resounding thumping in his ears; a house beat to accompany this terrifying leap into the unknown . Bucky grabs Stiles ' wrist , not abruptly or with force , but with purposed intention and sincerity drawn across his face pulling him back toward himself , the cool metal of his left arm wrapped down his lower back and the warm skin of his right came wrapping around Stiles ' shoulder and Bucky ' s hand came to rest at the back of his head . A twist in his gut was the highest signal to the wrestle between his own fear of the consequences of what he ' d just done , but also the thrill of having done it at all . The still latent high he was in that Stiles was alive at all , that he hadn ' t been gunned down in the fire and bullets of the Maggia and Yakuza blood feud .
Without thinking , and just falling into the impulses of his emotions , Bucky ' s face found itself buried into the soft skin in the crook of Stiles ' neck . He held him tighter still; but careful to not hold him too tight lest he slowly squeeze the air from him .
β πππ¦ππ πΌ π€ππ π β π‘ πππππ¦ πππ ππ‘ π‘π ππ ππ£ππ οΌ β the words were gently spoken , albeit muffled and dimmed , as they were directly spoken into Stiles ' βskin , as Bucky had not been ready to move from the place where his face had buried itself .
ππππππππ ππ : π π π π
@mieczlw
β inΒ light Β of Β whatΒ youΒ did Β for Β me , Β youΒ can Β hugΒ meΒ for Β four Β to Β five Β seconds. βΒ
πππππ ππππππππ πππ πππ ππ π
ππππ ππ
πππ for a moment, a shuffle of his muscles moved down his body like an awkward wave told it canβt sit with anyone at lunch . Clearing his throat he forced his eyes to look up and rest heavy with Stilesβ , remaining entirely uncertain of how to say heβd have saved his life regardless of what the resulting end looked like , but never having mastered a verbal articulation of feelings he felt , especially the very large and complicated ones that bloomed in his rib age for Stiles , the soldier turned his hands palms out and said in a voice , low and gravelly ,
β πΌ π‘βπππ πΌ π€ππ’ππ ππππ π‘βππ‘ π£πππ¦ ππ’πβ οΌ β
#π π β π π π π π π π π π π π π π#πππππ£ππ #ππ΄πΏπΎππ : πππΈπ»π΄π πππΈπ»πΈπ½ππΊπΈ
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